Dire grew up in the extreme northern Canadian wilderness. Well away from any city, town or even hamlet, he was born in the Sept of Bouncing Blood. Named such for the extreme cold temps in the challenge circle. When cut ones blood froze between wound and the ground and would bounce across the ice in solid form during fights. Sired of a rather prodigious but sinning mother and father Young Dire was allowed to live as a link to the past. No clear disfigurement more than alarmed the sept elders but they decided to wait and see what developed. From an early age the Theurges of the sept came to know that Dire indeed held much of the ancestral memory of the land there and his forbearers. In doing so his training, was geared towards a verity of things.

Beign get he learned combat first and foremost. As a Skald he learned how to draw runes and tell tales, how to play music and sing. As a Garou he was taught mystic rites to help him in his life. All this came at a price. He had to do most of it himself by watching the training of Homid and Lupine pups in the sept. As the pup grew it became aware that he suffered from delusions. His mind was fractured where his body was not. This made him less desirable as a student because the student is a reflection of the master. Still, Dire strove on.

Rite of passage had been delayed for young Dire when he was posted out on over watch of the high mountain pass that was only 15 miles distant from the Caern. He stayed his watch. Thick ashen gray fur saving him from the bitter winds even as his Garou physiology kept him alive by constantly regenerating the damage the cold would cause. It was on this watch that the pup learned his name. Hearing a strange sound he lept down the rocks to investigate. It seemed to be coming from the ice itself. Leaning down he heard a foul chittering and raising his battle hammer high he brought it down. The Ice below him shattered dropping him into a tunnel with BSDs. Two were there and before they could recover from the sudden entrance of the young Get, the warrior had slain them. Sniffing the air in the tunnel he could  tell that many Spirals had already passed that way on a b-line to his home.

Leaping from the tunnel the young get ran to the edge of the mountain. Before him was an almost vertical drop of many hundred feet. He could jump but the time and pain at the bottom of his body reknitting itself would slow him down. So the young Skald wracked his mind. If he sent off a soft howl to the other guardians of wyrm in the ice they would think him speaking of the goblins. He wasnt he saw them, these were different. Ripping a slab of stone from the wall he threw back his head and unleashed the most powerful howl of his life. An avalanche ensued and the young warrior rode the slab of rock down into the valley. Barley keeping ahead of the crashing wall of snow and at great risk to his own life he bellowed out the Anthem of War, and the sharp stacco barks of the Warning of Wyrms Approach.

Needless to say an avalanche with gray Garou at its crest calling of imminate attack on the sept roused its defenders and even as he skidded to a stop just outside the inner perimeter the spirals burst up from their tunnels below. The young Skalds warning and howls had given the sept that much needed heads up and time to ready themselves for the attack. Spirals, having counted on surprise and the fact of many Get would sleep during the day, while keeping watch at night found instead a full sept of angry Fenris waiting for them. It was a total Route.

After the attack the sept awarded him his deed name. Dire Warning was born anew as Garou.