The Horde's history is a long one, beginning as a small clan of rodere in the late 1920s. At the time they were led by a King named (the Reverend Father) Malcolm Sinclair, a Catholic priest who had traveled to southern Florida in hopes of spreading the Word of God. Sinclair was visiting the considerably sinful Palm Beach when he was caught in a skirmish between a local clan of rodere and a vampire. The only surviving bystander of this preternatural mayhem, the rats were kind enough to ensure Sinclair's well-being after they made sure the vampire had been eradicated. The memory of this never left Sinclair and affected his world-view as well as his lifestyle. When it was discovered that Sinclair was now rodere himself, it wasn't long before the Reverend Father put himself in charge of this wayward "flock" of lycanthropes and declared himself their King, on God's own mission.

Unfortunately, it was that same year that the Okeechobee Hurricane tore through Puerto Rico, the Bahamas and southern Florida. With over 2,500 people dead or missing and severe property damage having occurred, the Holy Crown Clan found its home in a shambles. Their King took them on the road, not only using this as an opportunity to find a home for his people, but also to traverse the newly-termed Bible Belt. While traveling, the clan did pick up the occasional person -- oftentimes a social outcast in whichever town they were visiting -- who was interested in conversion. As going over to God with this particular group also meant serving a higher power through literal transformation, it wasn't long before the clan started to expand. By the time Sinclair had brought his people to Louisiana's Cajun Country, their numbers were well over two hundred, closer to three. And after several months in Acadiana, the Reverend Father had decided his clan was large enough to move on to their one true home: New Orleans.

At the time, New Orleans was a city owned as much by vampirism as by the local human population. The master of the city, Annabelle, was a Victorian dream, flighty and prone as much to fits of whimsy as those of cruelty. When Malcolm's Holy Crown Clan came to town, the fight was vicious and brutal. It was also mercifully brief, leaving New Orleans' human residents none the wiser concerning the change in regime. Over the following years, vampires would continually attempt to take New Orleans back as their own. They failed more often than not, but the undead being the undead, it was not unheard of for vampires to periodically retake the city (such as during a month-long period in 1932).

By 1935, Malcolm's reign came to an end thanks to a Noble named Elijah Dupris. The priest-king lost his crown and his life to Dupris, who renamed his clan The Horde. It was a name which was slightly self-mocking -- Elijah was big on self-deprecation, and all the better to have you underestimate us, my dear -- but also something of a warning to their potential enemies. Their numbers had increased astronomically during The Depression. The Horde could offer you a place to sleep as well as food to eat in trade for deep-set loyalty, and that wasn't something which many people would turn down. It got to a point by 1937 where local police were actually attempting to investigate the rodere, terrified of the "cult-like" presence. Connections within the lycanthrope community were the only thing which prevented the local government from moving it up the chain and potentially triggering a wholesale slaughter of the rodere. Once the police stopped asking questions, Dupris's rats quit actively recruiting. Drawing attention was just too big of a risk.

Dupris was assassinated by a vampire-controlled wereleopard in 1940, and while he was replaced by a new King, by 1941 New Orleans had been wrested from the rodere's control by two master vampires working as a team. Any alliances between lycanthropes falls to pieces during the vampires' time in charge, and from 1941 to 1945 Luc and Alyssa glut on what the city has to offer. The Horde's numbers are lessened by nearly a third, leaving the clan devastated. It is during this time that The Horde develops what will be almost a clan-wide hatred for wereleopards, as they are Luc's animal to control and are sent out to kill the rats. The rats do eventually turn the tide after a wholesale slaughter that kills many Horde but also establishes that New Orleans will never again see as many leopards as it does during the 1940s. Alyssa is murdered, and Luc is presumed dead. A body is never found, but rumors (later legends) come in about that he was eaten by rats.

From the late 1940s to the late 1970s, New Orleans is a lycanthrope's safe haven. Vampires will not have the presence that they enjoyed in the '40s ever again, as it is a time of frequent alliances between shapeshifters. The Horde essentially leads by example, their numbers having recovered (particularly during the Vietnam War, when a healthy number of draft-dodgers who preferred to not move to Canada joined and were protected by the rodere). Starting in 1978 and going on for nearly ten years, the lack of a unified "enemy" throws the lycanthropes against one another, and the rodere are caught up in a small shapeshifters' war. Come '85, The Horde's King, Jacob Levy, coerces his fellow leaders into meeting and entreats them to make amends, to create a truce. It is Jacob's skills of diplomacy that bring the whole thing off. Jacob manages to guide his counterparts into agreement, and while there is still suspicion amongst the rats, wolves, hyenas, leopards and the like, this is a new time for them. Jacob, considered by The Horde to be their best King, manages to use argument, charm, flattery and on occasion outright manipulation to keep the peace. It is during the late '80s when bonds of trust begin reforming in their shared community.

Jacob Levy was to The Horde what Pope John Paul II was to Catholics. He was, quite frankly, the rodere's JFK, and joined the clan during the same year of Kennedy's assassination. He took over as King at an obscenely young age -- at all of 22 during 1963 -- and ruled until shortly before his 62nd birthday in 2003. His reign saw the longest period of peace New Orleans' rats had ever known, and while he also ruled during the lycanthropes' eight-year skirmish, he saw to it that the number of deaths were almost inconsequential. It's not unheard of for Horde members to keep remembrances of their last King, and Jacob has more than a few shrines in choice spots through the city.

He was worshipped by his Jester, Mahmoud Rashid. Jacob's conviction that lycanthropes shared a bond which transcended all other differences was proven thanks to the deep friendship (almost a father-son relationship, truly) between the borderline-Orthodox Jew and his trying-not-to-be-a-lapsed Muslim Jester. Many of The Horde do believe that Jacob had quietly and unobtrusively trained Mahmoud to be his successor, without informing a single member of his clan. It seems to have been true, as Mahmoud took over as King in 2003. What his people do not know -- possibly the largest secret he has ever kept from them -- is that Jacob was falling victim to Alzheimer's. A 60-something lycanthrope is a rarity indeed, but The Horde's adoration for Jacob would not have lasted as his mind was lost to him. Once Mahmoud realized the truth -- his love for The Horde was possibly the only thing more important to him than Jacob -- he made an elaborate show to the clan of his succession. Mahmoud killed Jacob during a formal challenge at a Horde banquet. Whether this was intentionally arranged between the two rats is entirely unknown, but the younger man triumphed after a purposefully lengthy fight.

Although highly respected by his fellow rodere, Mahmoud was initially resented for killing the former King. The new ruler shrugged this aggression off, and fought off constant challenges for two years amidst his 1,200+ rats while he ruled quietly, with a firm hand and a low voice. It was only during the onset of Hurricane Katrina that the clan suddenly realized what they had available to them. Mahmoud got The Horde through Katrina with neither deaths nor lasting property damage. He protected every single lycanthrope in the city, and sent out numerous people to assist those normal humans caught in the storm. Once the damages were finally tallied up, Mahmoud's worth seemed to finally be realized. He has been running the city without incident since then. The Horde is currently doing quite well. They prosper, and if anything has been proven over the past eighty-plus years, it is that when the rodere do well, New Orleans does well.