Name: Walter Cromwell 

Age: 190 (Turned at 42)

Species: Vampire

Gender: Male

Human Appearance: 
[Hider=Walter Cromwell][IMG]http://cache.reelz.com/assets/content/blogimages/first-look-at-liam-neeson-in-taken-2.jpg[/IMG]
Born in raised in Europe, Walter is fair skinned and has thick, dark brown hair to boot. Relatively short and parted down the middle, his hair reaches to the nape of his neck and is neatly trimmed around his ears. A few strands fall over his creased brow, hanging loosely above his cool blue eyes. His face is relatively taught for a man of his age, only a few wrinkles showing in most places, with a hard jawline and thin mouth that's almost always contorted into a frown. He stands at a healthy six feet two inches, and his musculature shows he is in fairly good healthy, or he had once been. It's common to see him in a black coat with a gray wool tunic beneath, dark colored trousers and boots.[/hider]

Beast Appearance: Very similar to an Underworld vampire. His skin becomes gray and tough as leather, wings sprout from his back, his features become elongated and his canines grow larger as well. 

Personality:
Like any vampire, Walter is exceptionally good at deceiving and luring his prey. He's rather keen on picking up nuances about those he stalks, often using their desires or even fears against them. While crafty he doesn't enjoy holding advantages over others heads, having a sense of honor and fairness that perpetuated since his life as a human. He uses his tools when he must feed, but refuses to do so otherwise. 

As a former military man he is prompt, direct and carries himself with a sense of pride. He has no issue with taking orders from superiors, and at the same time no issue with dealing them out as well. To a certain degree he is relatively indifferent towards the death of someone, rarely caring even. Should it be someone in his own coven however he becomes a fair bit enraged, and pity be on the person responsible for the fallen member's demise, as more often than not he'll fly into an insatiable rage. 

In normal circumstances, when not feeding or in action, he is often quiet and brooding. His replies in conversations are short, as often times he has little to say or offer, being a bit lackluster in regular conversation. It may even be safe to say he often seems bored with what's going on around him, and to a degree one would be correct. He's relatively young for a vampire, but has seen a fair bit of the world. There is very little that interests him, hence why the peak of his expression is during busy events. 

Brief History: Walter is a native to Scotland, Edinburgh to be precise. Born in 1640 during the reign of King Charles I he experienced quite a bit growing up. The Wars of the Three Kingdoms, a battle fought over the unification of Scotland, Ireland and England by one ruler. Taking up the bulk of his early childhood it was not uncommon to be caught in the middle of the fighting. Despite the constant conflict around them his life was fairly stable, with perhaps the exception of his father being away often. His father was blacksmith, and as such was often busy away at work, toiling to supply their local forces. The first ten years of his life then were dominated by going between helping at home and apprenticing with his father, trying to make both his home life and his family's business work.

After the war ended in 1660 Walter, at 20 years old, decided to enlist in the military, the royal navy to be precise. Having never been outside of Edinburgh let alone on a ship it was quite the culture shock for him. Given a year however he adapted, being assigned to a gunboat amongst a few dozen other men. In the span of the next few years there was relatively little action, the bulk of their time at sea being patrolling trade routes with the occasional pirate attack here and there. Nonetheless Walter enjoyed the freedom of being on the open sea, and opted to remain in the military as long as he could, not being terribly fond of his father's line of work as a blacksmith anyways. Even with other conflicts arising, such as the Glorious Revolution of 1668, he never saw any real warfare. That did not mean that his service went without danger.

In the year 1672, at 32 years of age Walter was finally shown the horrors of combat for the first time. Prior to this he and his crew, many of which had been regular faces over the years, had been lucky. With some of the best equipment in the world and exceptional training far and few between could dare challenge their might at sea. As fate would have it they made a mistake one day, taking a Spanish merchant ship and its escort, a schooner, as pirate vessels. In truth the flags had been lowered for repair, and that fact had been overlooked by the crew. Thinking the ships to be trespassing they opened fire, almost instantly sinking the merchant vessel with ease. The schooner however had avoided fire, and subsequently returned it with more cannons and speed at its disposal. Whether by a show of mercy or by running out of ammunition the assault stopped, and after scuttling the remnants of the merchant ship the schooner left. Walter and his crew had suffered greatly under the assault, losses nearing seventy five percent. The ship somehow remained afloat, though a mast lay in the sea and the deck littered with corpses and shredded material. Knowing they had to return to England and being concerned about having corpses aboard Walter and the survivors had to meticulously dump each body overboard to prevent their rotting. A few men had been unfortunate enough to not die immediately, having to be put to death by Walter as well to spare them the agony of a slow demise. A shadow of their former glory the ship limped home, its crews heads hung low in shame.

From that day on there was an unshakable, almost consuming fear of death that gripped Walter. Yet his long time of service in the crown's name refused to let him shirk his duties, and with a recent promotion to captain of his own vessel he certainly could not turn away now. Now forty years of age and a seasoned maritime traveler he returned to his duties on-board a newly furnished brig. Despite his experience, the wealth of equipment and trained crew and his superior vessel Walter was still haunting by an ever-impending demise. He was getting older, a fact that had not eluded him at all, and as the days wore on his tension only served to grow. To his men he was a strong, determined and just captain, but on the inside he was as timid as a young boy in the dark. He had to find a way to cheat death, whatever the cost.

As fate would have it he'd have his saving grace in just a few short years. With no real cause for concern amongst the seas Walter and his crew spent a fair amount of time docked in various cities around Europe. During their stay in France the crew is gathered at a local tavern, enjoying drink and song during their time off. In their merriment a woman approaches the beleaguered captain, offering him a 'good time' with a seductive smile. Never married and usually stuck with naught but other men Walter agrees, leaving the tavern with the cheers and shouts of his mates. He wasn't quite sure what to expect of this night, but what came to follow certainly wasn't in his expectations. The night in question remains hazy to this day, though the pain that beset him is as clear as day. He awoke the following day, lucid and weak from whatever had gone on the night before. He didn't feel right, he felt sick and like he was dying. Forlorn he laid in the alley he had awoken, unable to move much at all. When night fell he finally crept out, finding himself a stall with food to try and get some nourishment. It was fruit, probably spoiled, but he scarcely cared. As he ate the owner appeared, furious that his goods were being eaten by an "urchin". When Walter saw the man something overtook him, a primal and vicious desire. In a flash he was upon the owner, feeding furiously off of his blood until he was nearly a prune. It was at this moment he realized with horror what he was, that he'd become a monster. With no idea where to go he stole off into the night, refusing to accept his new reality.