Appearance

Physical Description

Lithe build, slim and fit like a soldier.

Body Features

Much of his body is covered in tattoos, he favors green and serpents.

Facial Features

Nice eyebrows, a well groomed goatee and a long serpentine tongue.

Apparel & Accessories

Prefers to dress in western apparel. Favoring snakeskin boots and a cowboy hat. His exact at apparel varies from night to night and situation to situation.

Special abilities

He is a vampire of considerable age and power. While not an ancient his activity level has allowed him to advance in power considerably.

Mentality

Personal history

Prelude
 
My mortal life? Well there isn't much to tell. I was a farm boy, not very athletic, or academic. Not that I wasn't capable, I am too smart for my own good and I wasn't exactly out of shape, just small. I made a name for myself in highschool. Still tiny, but recognized for my smart mouth and ability to back it up despite my size, too dumb to know those guys could kill me.
 
When I was 14 I took one of those IQ tests and the teachers refused to let me see the results. My father was considered a very smart man, and I had always thought I was like him, but they told me I needed to take it again, I figured I messed it up the first time, but they wouldn't let me see the second one either. I was moved to honors classes the next week though. But they still couldn't make me do homework.
 
I got involved in a rifle team, the only time I can think of when Guns and School appeared in the same headline and didn't follow the words Massacre. I took it straight to the top, I was nationally ranked by my Junior year. I never thought much of this either until a long time after I stopped competing. It's hard to fathom being that good when your that young. Someone noticed though, I got a letter from the CIA inviting me to DC before I was 17.
 
Before I even graduated I was being recruited by the Marines, and the Army. I had grown in my last years of school, but not as much as my name. I was one of the best shooters in the country, and there was a war on. I picked the Army over the marines on the advice of my father, who was a former marine himself. I whizzed through basic, which is nothing compared to growing up on a farm.
 
Spent a few months at Ft. Bragg before I was selected for the Special Forces there. They waved some stuff at the upper levels to get me in. My name must have flagged something, because I was sent to sniper school as soon as I passed selection. A year later I was on my way to Vietnam, attached to Alpha Team 7. A long range infiltration team with 3rd Group.
 
I won't tell you about Vietnam, beyond this. It was ugly, and if it hadn't been for my buddies on the team I wouldn't be breathing, or as close to that as I get, now. Besides most of what we did over there is still classified, including who we did it for. Officially I worked for a motor engine parts company based out of Langley VA for most of the war, if you catch my drift.
 
The Army paid for two tours over there the boyz in VA paid for another, then my ticket was up. I love my country, but nothing was going to get me to stay on for another tour. I went home, and headed for college. The government graciously footing the bill. I was in my sophomore year, studying the arts, more because I couldn't pick a career then because I loved art. When Martinez called me about the reunion party.
 
It was at a party when it happened. A little get together with some old buddies from Nam, that got a little out of hand. Martinez had won the Lottery, just one more shot of good luck in a streak that had taken him right to the top after the war. All but two of the surviving members of Alpha Team 7 were there. Totaling 8 vets, no one wanted to think about the dozen that were buried already. 8 vets, a few friends and 20 strippers. Martinez had gone all out for his compadres. He was a good troop, he hadn’t forgotten how we pulled him out of Laos when he got hit.
 
The party was dragging on as the boys pushed the limits of their endurance once more. Littering the park, where it was held, with enough alcohol containers for a whole company of Rangers. No one noticed when a few of the strippers disappeared, or the arrival of what looked like a biker gang until Bryant went down.
 
The guy who hit him was big, too big. He was wearing biker leathers and a kind of a weird hat. Arabic I guess, judging by his skin tone. He and his “friends” had rolled into the party and Bryant didn’t like them helping themselves to the beer. We squared off with them, itching to teach these long hairs a lesson. Nothing like being spit on by the same people your friends died to protect, to build up the angst.
 
That’s when Bryant started laughing. Next to Morty, or Muerte as the big Puerto Rican liked to be called, Bryant was the biggest guy on the team. He laughed it off saying that if he could through a punch like that, he was welcome to all the beer he liked. Well what the hell, what kind of party would it be if we didn't meet some new people? Who were we to judge? It went on like that with us all getting blasted out of our minds for a few more hours.
 
The bikers didn’t drink much, but they got us a bonfire going, and brought some cute girls with them so I didn’t mind a bit. One girl in particular caught my eye. She was a young little thing, dark skinned, dark hair, strange violet eyes. She was sitting all by herself by the bikes, but I caught her staring at me, so I went over to introduce myself. I don’t drink, never have, so I was getting bored.
 
Well to make this long story short, and you wouldn’t believe the long version anymore than this one. She took me into the woods, took off my shirt and tore open my...throat. Not exactly what I was hoping for.
 
She was a vampire, her whole crew were Vampires. When I came to I was in a box, with dirt pouring through the cracks, covered in blood. Funny thing is I didn’t panic. Call it whatever you like, but I just wasn’t scared. I worked calmly despite the fact I knew I didn’t have any air. Just slowly worked the lid off the box with my arms and legs then clawed my way up through the dirt. My head came into view just before dawn.
 
As I was pulled from the grave and chained to my buddies, Bryant and Vlad. I realized we were the only ones left. Team 7 had been wiped out, none of them made it. Even Martinez' luck had run out. The three of us were introduced to the Sabbat. It was rough at first, but within a year we had learned enough to live, if that’s what you call this, comfortably. Our military training made us invaluable to War Parties and we all saw more than our share of Crusades.
 

First Chronicle: Shadow Puppets

 
The girl, Cleo, took a shining to me after a while. She liked the way I carried myself, too bad the pack leader, Tolliver, didn’t. He was one of those shadow vamps, a Lasombra. He hated us, not at first mind you, but once it became clear we weren’t going to be good puppets and do everything he said without question, he started “volunteering” us for missions into the Camarilla territory.
 
That backfired on him. We knew how to infiltrate enemy lines all too well. In the next few years we all managed to diablerize some or another vampire in some or another town. I got 2 myself. I was in Chicago on a scouting assignment when I first tasted kindred blood. Sure I'd tasted blood before, participated in the Vaulderie dozens of times, but it never felt anything like this. My first was an anarch lick, young and stupid. He never really new what hit him, I dropped him from over four blocks out, so he really never had a chance. He'd barely healed himself enough to see again when I got there. One good kick and he was out again, then I drained him. All it took was once and I was hooked.
 
The next was an accident, and has definitely changed my life in more ways than you'd think. You see I was still in Chicago scouting around for a way to get at the Prince and his cronies when I spotted her watching me. At first I thought I'd been discovered, but something kept me from running. I stayed in town and didn't even change my haven. Call it sixth sense, whatever. I think it's just the look she gave me, it was so peaceful and serene. And it had this strange glint I can't really describe, no woman has ever looked at me quite the way Gabrielle did.
 
Yes I know her name, you see she watched me for a long time. Never approaching me or saying a word. She'd just watch me from afar with those aquamarine eyes. She was really quite beautiful, she had a kind of purity to her that was almost tangible. I never approached her either, or tried to hide from her, I just let her watch me. It went on like that for six months, without words or even a glance to her. Then one night as I awoke I heard a knock at my door. When I opened it there she was, she had on this little white dress she always wore, and the candlelight seemed to make her glow.
 
To this day I think that moment was the most awe inspiring of my life. She defied description, I have no words for the image my golden eyes took in. She said nothing, simply stepped in quietly and waited for me to close the door. Then she took my hand and lead me into my bedroom. My pack likes to believe I seduced her, well if that's true I have no idea how I did it. We never spoke, I never even thought of her that way until she came to my haven that night. If I did something I know not what it was, all I know is she came to me and gave herself to me...and by dawn she was gone, her body lay in my bed. In a peaceful sleep that will last her eternity. She did not struggle or even cry out, she just surrendered.
 
I can only tell you her name because of the blood. I have developed a great affinity for the blood I drink, perhaps because I must always take it warm, fresh with the life I steal, I don't know. But I know her name now, and that is all. Why she came to me, what she wanted I can only guess. I am not the most evil person I know, but definitely not the saint one would expect a Salubri to fall for. If that's what truelly happened.
 
As for why I drained this mysterious girl? I can only quote an old fable I learned as a child. One about a scorpion and a tortoise. The scorpion asks the tortoise for a ride across a stream and the tortoise replies that he will give it to him, but if the scorpion stings him they will both drown. The scorpion agrees and they begin to cross, halfway across the scorpion stings the tortoise and they begin to sink. The tortoise looks up to the scorpion as he starts to die and says "Why did you do that? Now we're both going to die." The scorpion replies "Because it's my nature." That is the only reason I have, it's my nature.
 
Over the next few years we grew in power faster than Tolliver could control. Before he knew it we could openly challenge him, the pack started to split. With Tolliver and Abdulla on one side and me and the boys on the other. Abdulla was Tolliver's biggest supporter. A fat old Arab with a bad temper and more skill with a knife than was healthy. The old Assamite was always quick to meat out punishment on the pack if we did not obey Tolliver and he had a special place in his blackened heart for Bryant, his childe. Bryant endured the worst beatings, but he also harbored the most hatred for the fat man. But it was not Bryant who spelled doom for him as you would have expected.
 
We'd just finished our first Dog hunt, werewolves to you kidz, when all three of us were approached. By the Hand kid damn who else approaches you in the Sabbat? No the Black Hand is a seperate group within the Sword of Caine, they are elite, the best murderers in the entire sect. Yes murderers, any idiot with a pitchfork can kill someone, you have to actually use a little style to be something more. Some would say assassin, but I call it murder, got a thing for self-honesty. You can lie to everyone but yourself, fool anyone but yourself, the minute you do you are screwed. Know yourself chump, or someone else will.
 
Anyway Vlad, Bryant and I were all offered a place in the Hand. We'd volunteered once before in our lives, and none of us were too keen on doing it again. But, this seemed to be the break we were looking for. It would elevate us in the pack, and give us an excuse to get away from Tolliver's watchful eyes... best of all, the hand operates independent of the sect, so there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Or so I thought.
 
One night I woke up to find Izabeta at my door, she was badly beaten and could barely speak. All I could make out was something about her childe, Vlad, and trouble. At first I was confused, Izabeta and Vlad were a strange pair in the pack. They were inseparable and Vlad almost seemed the older. Perhaps because she was so small and frail? I didn't know what was happening but it seemed very strange that Vlad, even in a fit of frenzy, could have harmed her like this. So I gave her some blood, wrapped her in a blanket, put her on my bike and sped over to the pack haven.
 
I arrived in time to see Vlad squaring off with a grinning Abdulla, with Tolliver overseeing the whole thing. The look on his face told me that he was looking forward to watching Abdulla gut my closest friend and ally, no doubt thinking this would shift the power permanently in his favor and bring the rest of the pack in line. As soon as I saw the scene I knew what had happened. Abdulla had beaten Izabeta, as he often beat his own childer and the pack ghouls, probably at the behest of Tolliver in order to get Vlad.
 
Vlad had lost it, he was just standing there glaring at the fat old bastard. As Abdulla blurted taunts and jeers at him. Vlad didn't have a chance, he had always been good with knives, but he was still too young. Abdulla was over 300 years old and was an assassin in life. He had powers Vlad couldn't dream of. I was about to lose a dear friend.
 
It was over in an eyeblink. Abdulla's heart lay at the feet of Tolliver. Vlad had carved it out in one quick stab of his knife. The startled Abdulla actually watched it get tossed to his master before the life faded from his eyes. Vlad said nothing, he just took Izabeta under his arm and lead her out of the haven. Tolliver was right about one thing, the balance of power had shifted...permanently.
 
It was in South Bend, the summer of 84, that I finally made my move. We had been involved in a crusade there that wasn’t going well. Tolliver ordered the whole pack to hold up in an old warehouse, one I told him would leave us open when the Archons finally caught up to us. He screamed at me “Shut your mouth whelp! If you think you can lead, then take the pack from me.” So I did. He was old and powerful, but he was stupid. Now he’s just dust in the wind. I got the boys outta there, we eventually took South Bend, and for that the big wigs made me Bishop.
 
Seduction of Lorraine.
 

Second Chronicle: Rags to Riches

 
We renamed the Pack to the Choir Boyz and settled down in South Bend to become a coven. We’d spent almost 20 years on the road, we where ready to start living the good life. Kinda sounds funny, but in a way the pack settled down and started a family. We all took childer in South Bend.
 
Disappearance of first childe.
 
Trip to Hong Kong: Wang
 
Seduction of Priscilla
 
Build Temporal Power: Carlito
 
Now I may be a Serpent, and I may even be evil, but I still can't stand the Baali. There is nothing you can offer me that will get me to go down on a demon to get it, and these sick fucks do that kind of shit for fun.
 
So when Vlad caught this little Baali Ghoul trying to kidnap kids from our town, we were suitably upset. How did we know the Baali were behind it? Well you haven't met Vlad, but he's a Tzimisce, and he liked knives before he became a fiend, you figure out how he made someone would rat out the Devil.
 
We packed up the boyz and ripped out towards the site of this Coven, the ghoul kept jibbering and sobbing about. Sure enough there it was, an old rundown school house with some odd sounds coming from the basement. No we didn't go down there, what do you think I am stupid? No telling what type of crazines was taking place in there.
 
No I sent Bryant out to acquire us a Gas Tanker while the rest of us stood guard with assault rifles. It didn't take him all that long, but it was long enough to know why I was gonna fry these things. Just hearing a five year old scream for "more cock" is enough, I listened to that little girl wail, and beg for over an hour before they killed her.
 
So when Bryant pulled up in Texaco's little contribution to making the world safe for decent blood suckers, I was the first one to grab a hose and kick in a window. Bryant hit the pumps and we dumped a couple of thousand gallons of diesel into the school house.
 
The chanting seemed to get louder and louder as we pumped, like time was running out. And it was, I tossed in my trusty Zippo and changed those chants to screams. That fire is still hot in my memory, it was awesome, gave me a warm fuzzy all over.
 
What? Oh no the kids burned too, not like there was anyway to get them out without going down there was there? Poor little juicebags. Well no sooner than we had gotten stripped down for what was shaping up to be the Fire Dance of the Century, then this freaky looking dude in a red robe wobbled out with his pecker swinging in the wind. Why is it that nutjobs never remember to wear pants?
 
Anyway, he's babbling on about the Master is coming, and how we're all fucked yada yada. So I put a round in Mr. Wrinkles, so much for him fucking anyone. He screamed and charged. The pack answered back with laughter and the jingle of about 100lbs of brass casings falling on the asphalt. Needless to say, he shut up real quick.
 
In a moment of temporary stupidity, and that is what it must have been I swear, I diablerized the old coot. And got a mouthful of pure evil. Boyz and girlz, never, and I mean never eat something until you know where it's been. Now I pop up on all the infernal radars. Sometimes that's useful, or so the inquisitor who finally decided not to burn me at the stake said. Still waiting to find out when that will be. Did I mention I HATE the Baali? Oh, well now you know why.
 
Establish Team 7.
 
Inquisition.
 
One night I woke up with this pain in my chest. At first I thought I was dreaming. Then I realized I wasn't that lucky. Cleo, my sire, was hovering over me, her little body straddling mine on my bed. I tried to grab her, it had been a long time since she'd chosen to visit my haven alone. I was hoping she was here on a "social" call. She's Cathari, like me, and I get my sweet tasting blood from her. That's when I realized my hands were tied.
 
She leaned down and whispered something in my ear, she's from Africa, and I couldn't understand a word, then kissed me. When I opened my eyes she was holding a knife above her head. I didn't have time to do anything, not that I could have...I was terrified. She plunged it into my chest and just looked at me, her big violet eyes cold. Then she closed my eyes with her little hand and I loose it there.
 
I woke up still bound to the bed, covered in my blood, with her's on my lips. Whatever she did she healed me afterwards. I didn't know what to think at first. So when I got loose I called her, the phone was disconnected.
 
So I got a hold of Vlad and he told me she was gone. After I described what happened, he was able to tell me about an old Setite ritual in which they remove someone's heart. Vlad was a much better student of the occult, until that night, now I study like a med student.
 
After a little leg work to set it up I was able to get some X-rays. He was right, she stole my heart. Sounds sweet, but I don't like the look that was in her eyes when she did it, and I certainly would like it back. It took several months, but we managed to track her down. Kinda, she was spotted in a city called Celenta, by one of our scouts. I don't know if she has the heart with her, I don't care. We need to talk.
 

Third Chronicle: Choir Practice

 
After the ruckus with the Baali and the things in Chicago cooled down I got a call from the Seraph. Their was a city he wanted me and the Boyz to check out. It had long been a Camarilla Power base and the Sabbat was making it's play. But things weren't going so good. The packs fought among one another. The Code of Milan had fallen, it was chaos. So the Seraph sent me to take a look and see what should be done.
 
My arrival within the vampire court was not well timed. I had almost no intelligence on the situation and my ignorance to the status quo immediately caused ripples. I found myself in a Monomacy duel with an Archbishop almost immediately, a VERY old VERY powerful one who lorded over the other Sabbat like some kind of Prince. My loyalist attitude and big mouth did not amuse this Lord DREAD, so he challenged me, I would not have taken such a foolish challenge had he not called me a traitor. As soon as those words were spoken our destiny was set.
 
The battle was short, he hurled powers unimaginable against me. Destroying everything nearby, but my own combat experience ensured that I was safely behind cover before his attacks struck. As I weathered his assaults in my makeshift shelter, I began to worm my way into his mind. With his attentions focused on my destruction he failed to notice his will being sapped away from him, by the time he realized what I was doing it was too late. One word from me and he would have destroyed himself eagerly.
 
But the devil takes care of it's own it seems. For a whole entourage of Sabbat, disobeyed the Code of Milan and came to his aid. By the time myself, and Lady White Tiger, the only Sabbat who supported me in the duel, had fought them off and sorted it out, he had gone. Saying only that we would continue this at a later date. That date never came, in the following weeks I was approached by many bureaucrats on his behalf.
 
They questioned me over the Code of Milan over and over, and finally declared the duel illegal and null. Since we had not waited the required 3 days and participated in Vaulderie prior to it's start. I have seen this before, I was a soldier in Vietnam. No matter how good the warrior the politician can always find a way to tie his hands, and the Keepers are the greatest of all the politicians. I no longer grow angry over what happened, I have no wish to take up the Archbishop's title, nor his new one of Cardinal, but to be held under by red tape infuriates me to no end.
 
They say if you can't beat them join them. Well I was a Bishop then, and I haven't joined them just yet. I am still looking for a way to beat them, and I am much closer than they would ever want to believe.
 
The only good thing that came from the whole fiasco with Blackthorin DREAD is this. It made me famous, he had quite a reputation as a combatant. And I was the first to stand up to him and live. I became a rallying point for the loyalists, and began the formation of a new pack. My first recruit, and one of my most trusted comrades, was Yorska Banjara a quiet old Tzimisce. He has never seen the need to speak much and over the last few years I have come to agree he has little need of words to be effective.
 
Now I'm a somewhat unofficial spokesman for the Loyalists here, they follow my lead for the most part, and back me up when I need it. I take a lot of heat, but it's easy enough to do when most are afraid to challenge you. Talk is cheap and with my tongue I can afford a whole lot of it.
 
After Yorska came Diego, then Fear, then others to my banner. We were the youngest of the packs in the area, most of the others had grown so old and set in their ways they appeared as Camarilla Coterie more than mighty Sabbat covens. My own history as a Pilgrim, living the hard life of a nomad, would not allow my own pack to stagnate so and we went hard to work at changing the status quo. DREAD's reign fastly deteriorated in that first year as we set the new standard for discipline among the Sabbat. Gone were the vices, and debauchery, the young rallied to our song and the Choir sang it with pride.
 
I met this little girl, the prettiest thing you have ever seen, in a club one night. She was going toe to toe with this big guy, all 90lbs of her. She was doing alright, until this damned Camarilla vamp got involved. Guess he was thinking she would be as sweet tasting as I did, but that’s his tough luck I saw her first. I dropped one of my guns, kicked it through the crowd to her.
 
She wasted no time making use of it and managed to get away, from them after raising quite a ruckus in that place. Don’t know if the police ever let them reopen it. In the meantime I grabbed that cammi vamp and gave him a good beating for his trouble, left him bleeding and blind in the alley.
 
Anyway she came around looking for me, how she found me is still a mystery, but hey she’s a street kid, they do alright. Got a strange name though, Kalisiris Suborn. From what I’ve learned her birth parents were wackos, into some crazy stuff no kid should ever have to see. She was full of spitfire too, tried to lie about having my gun. Then refused to give it back. So I showed her why they call us the damned.
 
She was mine from then on, the blood holding her too me at first, and mine’s like a narcotic, they can’t get enough of it. Then later because she wanted me to teach her. She learned quickly to, picked up stuff I didn’t even know a ghoul could do.
 
That’s when I told Yorska, the old Tzimisce who acts as my pack priest, I was going to embrace her. She’d become more than a toy, she had ambitions nearly matching mine, and they wouldn’t be held at bay by any bond. To my delight she passed her rites with ease, never doubted her, she’s mine after all.
 
It was during one of these rites, ones so rarely performed by the other packs, that the world once again showed me it's humor. The Choir Boyz were having a fire dance, and we had invited all the other packs to come and test their mettle against our own. Only one pack showed, the Bloody Angels, led by Lady Foxx. But that became only a minor concern in honor of our other guests.
 
A mysterious stranger was seen at the edge of our fires, speaking with members of the Bloody Angels. I consulted Yorska on his identity, but he hadn't seen this one before either. He responded to all the tells as a Sabbat, so the possibility of spy was ruled out. For all but myself.
 
Our attention was shifted then to the presence of one more in the woods that night. Yorska I believe was the first to not the presence of the Anarch. Ahh but you'd be calling him your excellency. Yes, you see in those days Cypress Dreadslay was an Anarch. Surprised, that your Archbishop is not a shovelhead as yourself? Don't be, some of the best of us aren't.
 
I was the first to approach him, he was being cautious, but also a bit too curious. You see the Archbishop idolizes the soldier ideal, and most of all it's courage. He saw my packmates dancing and laughing in the flames and was awestruck. Make a note of that kid, you want to impress his excellency you'd best learn to grab em when you walk.
 
I spoke with the Anarch briefly, and instead of tearing him limb from limb as you shovelheads would think appropriate for one so dangerous as myself. I invited him to join us in the dance, no threats, no bravado just one soldier to another. You see why of course? No by that dull look on your face I can see you don't. Oh well I'm sure a siege will come soon enough and make you useful.
 
Cypress danced for a few moments. Doing very well as I remember, considering it was his first attempt at such lunacy. Then Lady Foxx took him away into the woods. What charms she worked on him I don't care to know. I had seen his eyes, he was already hooked.
 
With no other entertainment making itself available I turned my attentions back to the Stranger Yorska had been studying. He had a bad feeling about him or something. I myself got little, but thought it smelled of Keeper tactics. Sizing us up as we were the primary rivals to their domination of the sect in that region.
 
It wasn't until after I began to dance my silver-tongued dance with him that I realized the truth of the honor we had been paid. You see I had survived so many Assassination attempts over the previous months that Blackthorin himself had come to my firedance, disguised as a lowly Pander, and hoping to... what? You're a Pander? Yes, well keep your lowly mouth shut while I speak then.
 
Much better, now as I was saying Blackthorin DREAD was hoping to find a way of eliminating me once and for all. His foolishness on this course was clear however, unlike himself I am not the beginning and end of my pack. They can function quite well without my hand guiding their every trip to the restroom.
 
So even after he had managed to blind me, after I had cornered him by the fire. The Choir Boyz were able to drive him off. Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large numbers. Or in this case, just one with a large ego.
 
This second defeat bolstered my pack's morale and we went on to press most of the old status quo types out of the area. This may have been a miscalculation on my part, as when my own pack moved on, as Nomadic packs always do. The area was reclaimed by the Camarilla.
 
Lesson learned, this time I'm back to stay.

Personality

Social

Birthplace

Kansas, USA

Contacts & Relations

Presently only has two meaningful relationships in his life. One with his childer and lover Jae Sakamoto, the second with his henchman Benny.

Honorary & Occupational Titles

Formerly a Bishop of the Sabbat