It has been teasing my mind all this time and, though I could see parts of it, the full concept remained obscure this time. The World of Darkness games are not about supernatural creatures, they are about humanity. They all cover a question of morality and examine large issues often overlooked by society in general (and unfortunately by many role-players in particular.) 

Vampire is about the food chain. It addresses the issue of humans living off other humans, that 20% of the population uses 80% of the resources. Vampire exaggerates this, putting all of the resources into the hands of the vampiric minority, and making the human majority into nothing more than cattle. The political emphasis, especially with those who most value their humanity, cleverly points out that this is not a vampiric trait but a human one. We all live off the sweat and blood of other people every day of our lives. Vampire questions not the right to live off others, for as a society we are all of necessity symbiotic, but demands respect and thanks for those whose backs we clamber on. It demands that we relate to and identify with those we rely on for existance, that business is not divorced from production, that the blood of farmers, that feeds even vegetarians, is not consumed so lightly. Vampire, even at it's most inhumane, is darkly human and, as our introduction to the World of Darkness, states that all that is to come is about humanity as well. 

Werewolf is about religious fanaticism. It is werewolf that deserves the word Jyhad, not vampire. Werewolf forces us to examine exactly what we count as justifiable, exactly what lengths we are willing to go to for something we believe. It asks whether "The spirits told me to." is really adequate excuse for the ritualistic, bloody murder of a suburban family... Something which both sides of the story would do in werewolf. Werewolf emphasises rage and emotion, serving only to show that logic is missing, that when the balance is lost insanity erupts. Werewolf has no heroes. It has a side that supposes itself to be good and right, and yet does exactly the same acts of murder and terrorism that it's enemy does. However it began, whoever threw the first punch, both sides have become as black and twisted as each other. Werewolf begs us to examine our beliefs, it begs us to question why we believe what we believe, to moderate our actions by something other than blind acceptance of what we've been told, to use our own eyes, our own mind... For in the end the only difference between us and anyone else is what we make ourselves. 

Mage expands on issues hinted at in the others, the body of the argument after a lengthy introduction. Mage is about power, about responsibility and the need for balance. If we have the power to do something does that give us the right? Does having that power give us wisdom to carry our vision out? If we can change the very world itself does that give us the right to impose our own myopic short- sighted version of utopia, full of our own short-comings and prejudices, on everyone else, many of whom may well see more of the big picture than we do in the first place? In a world where it increasingly seems as if everyone has an opinion, as if everyone has an answer to every problem, does anyone have the right to judge anyone else? Are all opinions equally valid? Equally valid for what? If you are a social outcast and hate people because they first hated you you are going to have very different views than someone who has always been the darling of society, does that make you wrong? The answer has to be no. It is not wrong to want to kill everyone else is existance, it is only wrong because society outnumbers you, quantity overwhelms quality and might truly does make right. Right and wrong, just like everything else, come down to majority vote, the democratic dream and yet individuals are stifled precisely because everyone gets a say. Mage weighs us down with a morass of questions and leaves none of them answered. But that is fine, it is only the body of the argument, there is more to come. 

Wraith steers away from esoteric philosophising and back onto harder ground. It takes the body of the argument that Mage presents and starts to bring us back to ground. It asks us to question not our beliefs, a nice mental exercise, but our emotions and, in doing so, hits us closer to home than any of the others. Wraith looks at what we feel and asks if we have the right. Wraith is about letting go, about knowing when to walk away, knowing when to run. Wraith is about reconciliation, not with the other person, but with ourselves. We cannot touch other people, we cannot hold onto them or make them recognise us, we can't even get them to acknowledge our existance, we are no more to them than a slamming door, a roaring wind, an unhappy memory spoiling a sunny day. Wraith is about looking at the past, at what we felt and why, and coming to terms with it, dealing with it and moving on, confronting on the way the question of whether we had the right to feel how we did in the first place. Wraith strips away the hypothetical power that Mage held out, it tears us away from the face of god and forces us back into the cold light of day. We are powerless, regardless of anything that went before we are nothing. We might want to change the world, but we can't change anyone or anything except ourselves. In reality the only person we have a right to change, the only person we really ever can change is ourself. 

Changeling... Changeling was to be our summation, our conclusion. As the final game it was to be the capstone and complete the arch the others had begun. 

As a game about fairies and children it had the unique position to ask the fundamental question of morality, Why? Why do we persist in the illusion of right and wrong? Why do we need laws? Why can't we let everyone live in complete freedom and do whatever they want? Children ask these questions before they are taught not to, and the fae are the perfect examples of the answer. We could have had the Seelie, perfectly delineated, perfectly ordered, the essence of both right and wrong and the division between. We could have had the Unseelie, perfectly selfish, perfectly untethered, the essence of a world without law, of boundaries non-existance and egocentrism rampant. It would've shown why, why we need fences, why we need walls, why we need morality at all even if it is just something we construct for ourselves... 

We didn't get that. The only trace seen is the paragraph description of the courts in the main book, but it is not held up in the expansions. We didn't get an answer. We didn't get a final paragraph of the essay on morality they began... Or at least we may have, but it was probably written by a pooka in crayon before the redcap ate it... 

And perhaps that is an answer of sorts... 

I don't want to think about anything serious, so I'll lie about it, obscure it with meaningless scribble and devour all the evidence so no-one can see it... 

Perhaps it is an answer of sorts... 

But I'd come to expect more, and I am filled with a profound sense of emptiness. I am unfulfilled.