Post by Szandor Colden on May 7, 2012 22:45:02 GMT -5
Birth name: Atreus (Greek, meaning 'fearless')
Alias: Szandor Colden
Sex: Male
Age: 2682ish years old (Born in 666 BC)
Birthplace: Sparta, Greece
Occupation: Unknown
Race: Werewolf (Bitten in 639 BC)
Family relations: Parents of no particular importance; although his ancestry can be traced back to the original inhabitants of Sparta.
Weapons: Himself. Prefers to wield no weapon although he favors any sword, knife, or staff over a gun.
Appearance: 6 feet tall, muscular build. Hard face, dark brown hair and pale gray eyes.
History: Born in Sparta at the close of 666 BC as a member of the Spatiate class in Spartan society. Like every other male Spartan, at the age of seven he was sent to military and athletic school where he was taught toughness, discipline, endurance of pain, and survival skills. At age twenty, after thirteen years of training, he became a soldier of Sparta and was married (as was the custom) to a woman who would birth for him two sons and a daughter. In 640 BC, when Atreus was 26, the Messenians (a people previously conquered by Sparta) revolted against Sparta with the help of the city-state Argos. Atreus was fighting among those in response to the revolt and was abducted by who he thought at first to be an enemy Messenian. The captor was really a leader of the Lycans, known as the father of Werewolves, Mikael, who had also obtained other soldiers with the purpose of turning them to Lycanthropy. Atreus was reported among the dead to his wife; and became Szandor after getting bitten by the father of Werewolves and shape-shifting. The new soldier-bred Lycans were dispersed among the leaders of Lycanthropy, and Szandor found himself in the direct service of the mother of Werewolves, Alena Wulf, who seemed to take a particular liking to him. He stayed under her service for many centuries, and the two developed an interesting relationship. As the years went on and the Crusades began in 1095 AD, tension between the Werewolves and Vampires grew, and the Crusades were employed as a front for the raging war between the two Immortal races. During that time, the father of Lycans, along with a few other great leaders of Lycanthropy, were killed in one of the fights; which, for a time, ended the open battles as the Werewolves withdrew into hiding. Alena then sent Szandor to the north to confer with the strong Lycan group in the countries that are now Norway and Sweden; and then return secretly to the Vampire-infested countries to pick out Lycan-hopefuls who would help fight back. For centuries Szandor maintained good relations with the Lycans of the North and helped Alena accommodate in Sweden when Italy and Greece became overwhelmed with Vampire activity; he also traveled alone, turning every Human who would make a suitable Werewolf into one and sending them to Alena. When word reached him that the second leader of the Lycans, Perrin, had passed away, Szandor took a detour to Greece before returning to his Mistress. In Greece, Szandor ended up rescuing Adele Holst, the girl who had inherited Perrin’s gene and position. Adele and Szandor then returned to Alena in Sweden. Soon after the night of Szandor’s return, the Wolf Den in Sweden was raided by a group of Vampires. Szandor helped Alena fight back the Vampires and has stayed under her service since then.
Fears: Death (and yet he loves the idea of it), being unable to protect the ones he cares for, losing his honor.
Strengths: Good physical condition, discipline, experience.
Weaknesses: He has high standards of how people should be and is often cold toward everyone. He is obviously physically wounded by silver.
Likes: Contributing to the success of Lycanthropy, playing with his victims (something Alena taught him)
Dislikes: Ignorance and insolence, weakness in leaders, disrespect from inferior people toward their superiors.
Roleplay Example: After Alena had been informed of Perrin's decease, word of the loss reached Szandor within a week, and he had hastened to return to Sweden and to Alena's side.
But Szandor had looked over and helped Perrin since the Lycan Leader had taken his first steps, there was great history shared between the two men from Greece; so Szandor took a detour on his way back to pay his last respects to his old superior and friend.
Entering the familiar villa that Perrin had established, the rain fell steadily down. A foreboding silence loomed over the area, something Szandor had never considered as a characteristic of the property; and he walked purposefully down the walk toward the main house.
The street lights cast eerie shadows over the sidewalks and ancient buildings; everything seemed less inviting than it had a decade, even a century, ago. It was hard to tell whether the general emptiness in the air was because of Perrin's death, or if some other evil was a work. But not long after entering the streets of Perrin's abode, the faint, but certain, smell of blood trickled through to Szandor's awareness, accompanied by the unmistakable musk of the undead.
He walked to where the smell was the strongest and looked around. No one was in sight, but something had definitely happened here. Szandor knelt and looked closely at the drenched ground; puddles of blood sat scattered around, one considerably larger than the others, and nearby he found a couple bullet shells, they had produced silver ammo it seemed. He scanned the area from his crouched position, looking and listening for any signs that someone from the conflict was still around, then looked back down at the blood, dabbing two of his fingers in it and bringing them up as if inspecting it. There was no doubt that blood belonged to a Lycan, or had belonged to a Lycan.
Szandor looked over to the building closest to the scene, and caught a glimpse of someone staring at him from the doorway, most likely a servant of the villa, but he ducked away quickly upon being found.
"Hey!" Szandor shouted at the servant, and stood quickly, simultaneously wiping away the blood on his fingers with the falling rain. He caught up easily, and grabbed the boy firmly by the arm, turning him to look him in the eyes, "What the hell happened here?"
The young servant flinched and tried vainly to escape, but gave up immediately, not keeping eye contact.
Someone else entered the room and approached, pausing at first, "Szandor? What are you doing here?"
He let go of the boy, who stepped eagerly away, and turned to the familiar servant, demanding, "What happened out there?"
The second servant looked down, but composed himself easily, "Vampires. Three of them. They left no more than half an hour ago." He stopped, but seemed as if there was something else he was not including.
"And what did you do about them?" Szandor snarled, "There's blood out there that didn't come from a Vampire, and I'm pretty sure it isn't his." He said, referring to the boy.
The servant hesitated, "We couldn't stop them. They took Miss Adele with them, you have to get her back; it's of utmost importance."
"Adele...?"
"They took her that way," the servant went to the window and pointed in the direction the Vampires had left, "There may be more, but retrieving Miss Adele is top priority, she's injured. Szandor, you must find her; one last task for Perrin, he would wish it. I will stay and gather help within the villa in case the Vampires should return. Please, go now and bring her back quickly."
Szandor had never known this man to ask favors or insist anything, so if he was pushing that this Adele, whoever she was, be returned, for Perrin, he would see what he could do. And so turning back onto the rainy streets, he left in the direction he'd been pointed to, and followed the scent of the Vampires to get to Adele.
Alias: Szandor Colden
Sex: Male
Age: 2682ish years old (Born in 666 BC)
Birthplace: Sparta, Greece
Occupation: Unknown
Race: Werewolf (Bitten in 639 BC)
Family relations: Parents of no particular importance; although his ancestry can be traced back to the original inhabitants of Sparta.
Weapons: Himself. Prefers to wield no weapon although he favors any sword, knife, or staff over a gun.
Appearance: 6 feet tall, muscular build. Hard face, dark brown hair and pale gray eyes.
History: Born in Sparta at the close of 666 BC as a member of the Spatiate class in Spartan society. Like every other male Spartan, at the age of seven he was sent to military and athletic school where he was taught toughness, discipline, endurance of pain, and survival skills. At age twenty, after thirteen years of training, he became a soldier of Sparta and was married (as was the custom) to a woman who would birth for him two sons and a daughter. In 640 BC, when Atreus was 26, the Messenians (a people previously conquered by Sparta) revolted against Sparta with the help of the city-state Argos. Atreus was fighting among those in response to the revolt and was abducted by who he thought at first to be an enemy Messenian. The captor was really a leader of the Lycans, known as the father of Werewolves, Mikael, who had also obtained other soldiers with the purpose of turning them to Lycanthropy. Atreus was reported among the dead to his wife; and became Szandor after getting bitten by the father of Werewolves and shape-shifting. The new soldier-bred Lycans were dispersed among the leaders of Lycanthropy, and Szandor found himself in the direct service of the mother of Werewolves, Alena Wulf, who seemed to take a particular liking to him. He stayed under her service for many centuries, and the two developed an interesting relationship. As the years went on and the Crusades began in 1095 AD, tension between the Werewolves and Vampires grew, and the Crusades were employed as a front for the raging war between the two Immortal races. During that time, the father of Lycans, along with a few other great leaders of Lycanthropy, were killed in one of the fights; which, for a time, ended the open battles as the Werewolves withdrew into hiding. Alena then sent Szandor to the north to confer with the strong Lycan group in the countries that are now Norway and Sweden; and then return secretly to the Vampire-infested countries to pick out Lycan-hopefuls who would help fight back. For centuries Szandor maintained good relations with the Lycans of the North and helped Alena accommodate in Sweden when Italy and Greece became overwhelmed with Vampire activity; he also traveled alone, turning every Human who would make a suitable Werewolf into one and sending them to Alena. When word reached him that the second leader of the Lycans, Perrin, had passed away, Szandor took a detour to Greece before returning to his Mistress. In Greece, Szandor ended up rescuing Adele Holst, the girl who had inherited Perrin’s gene and position. Adele and Szandor then returned to Alena in Sweden. Soon after the night of Szandor’s return, the Wolf Den in Sweden was raided by a group of Vampires. Szandor helped Alena fight back the Vampires and has stayed under her service since then.
Fears: Death (and yet he loves the idea of it), being unable to protect the ones he cares for, losing his honor.
Strengths: Good physical condition, discipline, experience.
Weaknesses: He has high standards of how people should be and is often cold toward everyone. He is obviously physically wounded by silver.
Likes: Contributing to the success of Lycanthropy, playing with his victims (something Alena taught him)
Dislikes: Ignorance and insolence, weakness in leaders, disrespect from inferior people toward their superiors.
Roleplay Example: After Alena had been informed of Perrin's decease, word of the loss reached Szandor within a week, and he had hastened to return to Sweden and to Alena's side.
But Szandor had looked over and helped Perrin since the Lycan Leader had taken his first steps, there was great history shared between the two men from Greece; so Szandor took a detour on his way back to pay his last respects to his old superior and friend.
Entering the familiar villa that Perrin had established, the rain fell steadily down. A foreboding silence loomed over the area, something Szandor had never considered as a characteristic of the property; and he walked purposefully down the walk toward the main house.
The street lights cast eerie shadows over the sidewalks and ancient buildings; everything seemed less inviting than it had a decade, even a century, ago. It was hard to tell whether the general emptiness in the air was because of Perrin's death, or if some other evil was a work. But not long after entering the streets of Perrin's abode, the faint, but certain, smell of blood trickled through to Szandor's awareness, accompanied by the unmistakable musk of the undead.
He walked to where the smell was the strongest and looked around. No one was in sight, but something had definitely happened here. Szandor knelt and looked closely at the drenched ground; puddles of blood sat scattered around, one considerably larger than the others, and nearby he found a couple bullet shells, they had produced silver ammo it seemed. He scanned the area from his crouched position, looking and listening for any signs that someone from the conflict was still around, then looked back down at the blood, dabbing two of his fingers in it and bringing them up as if inspecting it. There was no doubt that blood belonged to a Lycan, or had belonged to a Lycan.
Szandor looked over to the building closest to the scene, and caught a glimpse of someone staring at him from the doorway, most likely a servant of the villa, but he ducked away quickly upon being found.
"Hey!" Szandor shouted at the servant, and stood quickly, simultaneously wiping away the blood on his fingers with the falling rain. He caught up easily, and grabbed the boy firmly by the arm, turning him to look him in the eyes, "What the hell happened here?"
The young servant flinched and tried vainly to escape, but gave up immediately, not keeping eye contact.
Someone else entered the room and approached, pausing at first, "Szandor? What are you doing here?"
He let go of the boy, who stepped eagerly away, and turned to the familiar servant, demanding, "What happened out there?"
The second servant looked down, but composed himself easily, "Vampires. Three of them. They left no more than half an hour ago." He stopped, but seemed as if there was something else he was not including.
"And what did you do about them?" Szandor snarled, "There's blood out there that didn't come from a Vampire, and I'm pretty sure it isn't his." He said, referring to the boy.
The servant hesitated, "We couldn't stop them. They took Miss Adele with them, you have to get her back; it's of utmost importance."
"Adele...?"
"They took her that way," the servant went to the window and pointed in the direction the Vampires had left, "There may be more, but retrieving Miss Adele is top priority, she's injured. Szandor, you must find her; one last task for Perrin, he would wish it. I will stay and gather help within the villa in case the Vampires should return. Please, go now and bring her back quickly."
Szandor had never known this man to ask favors or insist anything, so if he was pushing that this Adele, whoever she was, be returned, for Perrin, he would see what he could do. And so turning back onto the rainy streets, he left in the direction he'd been pointed to, and followed the scent of the Vampires to get to Adele.
