Cristobal/Stereotypes

Fera: It is inevitable. The Gods have spoken.

Changelings: Not nearly so brittle as riddles and lore would have you believe. Spider-webs are ephemeral, too.

Garou: I have read it in the stars. The time is coming when we shall return and you shall have to acknowledge our rightful place -- and yours. You are not kings and you never were.

Mages: Do you mind if I borrow this?

Vampires: So sure of your own profundity. As for the Setites, well... we're not in Egypt anymore, Dorothy.

Wraiths: You and I have many, many things to talk about.

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Bagheera: Kipling certainly understood how sexy you are.

Balam: You eat of both of your hearts, and they're both bitter.

Celican: They say you've all fallen to the Wyrm. Of course, they also said you were all dead. I shall accept it as "mostly true." What do you call yourselves, now? Black Spiral Purrers?

Khan: There's a reason you cast aside your crowns, and I'd like to know what it is.

Qualmi: You know only being able to speak in riddles speaks less of enigmatic knowledge than it does brain damage.

Pumonca: I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.

Simba: Lions, commonly perceived as noble hunters, are in actuality opportunistic predators. Fact.

Swara: You run and run and run but I don't know what you're chasing.

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Black Furies: The Furies are one of the tribes of dogs that the Bubasti have trucked with, historically speaking. We have traded knowledge and they have looked favorably on our veneration of Bast as a mother and moon-goddess. But they're domineering and condescending, and in their pursuit of equality so many of them have forgotten that there is a very real power and a divine rightness in being feminine.

Black Spiral Dancers: Above and beyond the murder, the madness, the slime and slobber and the sadism, you're con-artists. You bend over backward to convince people that what you have to say has meaning. You made the big mistake, though. You sampled your own product. You bought into your own lies. You're a joke, and the punchline's not funny.

Bone Gnawers: Those who abhor cleanliness spread disease.

Children of Gaia: The Children of Gaia would like to be our allies, but our grislier practices make them balk. They always have. They came to Egypt with the Ptolemys, and were one of the few tribes of dogs that were welcome in Bubastis. We have not forgotten.

Get of Fenris: I can't believe they really believe they're vikings.

Glass Walkers: A dog in a three-piece suit still has fleas.

Fianna: Never mind.

Red Talons: You've got to be kidding me. Wolves. Don't. Behave. That. Way.

Shadow Lords: For dogs, they've got their heads on straight.

Silver Fangs: Kings of what, exactly?

Silent Striders: It is said in our lore that Set's curse is rooted in trapping Anubis, first and greatest of their tribe, behind the gates to Du'at. But he is pounding on the gates, and after five thousand years they have begun to crack. Either the Striders will find the key, or Anubis will shatter the gates to the Kingdom of Osiris and return to Earth with an army of the dead, to take his revenge on the Followers of Set. I cannot say what prospect thrills me more. I cannot say what prospect frightens me more.

Uktena: Maybe we can work out a deal.

Wendigo: Like the Balam, but with more snow.