[center][img]https://image.ibb.co/fXE45v/adeimar2.png[/img] “Raven of Blackriver” [/center] [b]Name:[/b] Nicolaus Strøm [b]Apparent Age:[/b] Thirty-Eight [b]Actual Age:[/b] In the [i]upper[/i] three-hundreds if memory serves… [b]Species:[/b] Vampire of clan Ventrue | 7th Generation [i](reduced by one through diablerie of a Black Hand (Sabbat) Elder)[/i] [b]Disciplines:[/b] Dominate / Fortitude / Presence / Auspex / Obfuscate [hider=Misc Ref Info] [b]Clan Feeding Restriction:[/b] Romani of Eastern European descent. [i]Storytelling Note: Among many Ventrue, it was considered a bad omen to associate with the gypsy people, who they considered thieves and murderers. Regardless, Nicolaus keeps this hidden as best he can.[/i] [/hider] [b]Appearance:[/b] A man of above-average height, Nico stands at six-foot-one, lean muscle, short dark hair with streaks of graying along the sides, and light facial hair which is generally kept short. A series of articulate tattoos of animals, mythos, and symbolic eastern European imagery cover most of his upper body and arms, depicting exploits of centuries past. He carries himself with confidence, tall and proud, a friendly smile to friend and stranger, and a wardrobe designed to accentuate a no nonsense man of integrity and strength of character and will. [b]Personality:[/b] Pure alpha, dominant, even-tempered, mentally tough, and competitive, Nicolaus gleans with a genuine confidence that very few seem to have in this current age, especially among the younger Kindred. Whereas his demeanor may come off as arrogant, it couldn't be further from the truth. His rough exterior is balanced by a charismatic approach to others and generally friendly disposition. As a creature struggling with a dark past of unforgivable actions and consequences, he is quite determined to right many wrongs and while he strives for perfection in everything, he rarely achieves it according to his own standards and those imposed by the Ventrue. Yet still he persists. And a quirk, some would consider “bad form” for a Ventrue (let alone a vampire in general), is that Nicolaus holds onto certain humanistic qualities, such as having food set out during meal times but -as expected- not actually eating, smoking cigars, or simply leaving a pair of glasses in his shirt pocket. Many of his peers consider it a negative reflection on him, but it does little to dissuade the gestures. [hider=Biography] [b]Prague | Blackriver Citadel | circa 1785[/b] “You've been found guilty of treason against your Sabbat brethren, sharing secrets that jeopardize the interests and security of this Sect, and conspiring with the Camarilla!” The thin, pale, dark-haired Lasombra read from an unfurled scroll, eying the caged vampire across from him with much gile and suspicion. “In turn, you have been stripped of your title as ‘Inquisitor’ amongst the Black Hand and are hereby subject to summary judgement by way of a thousand blade cuts and incineration until [i]Final Death[/i] has destroyed your existence.” A wry grin formed across the creature’s dried lips. “And mark my words, your confederates will be found and destroyed and you will therefore be stricken from the manuscripts, never to be remembered again.” “Remembered for [i]what[/i] exactly?” The other scoffed, clearly unimpressed with the series of charges that, while true, were still overly exaggerated. The Lasombra tilted his head slightly as his face contorted into the epitome of anger and disgust. “You Ventrue lackeys are all the same, stubborn to the last, and yet you insult my intelligence by assuming I am not aware of the prestige, the [i]Dignitas[/i], that you’ve managed to acquire for the past one hundred years as a member of the Sabbat?” He stepped closer to the thick steel bars of the small cell holding the prisoner. “And if it wasn't for your Sire advocating on your behalf, the Black Hand would have had considerably less tolerance for your continued insolence. In fact, many of us within the Circle are convinced she is just as guilty as her half-wit childe.” “Kivaria has no part in this I assure you. Keep her out of your little ’witch hunts’.” “Perhaps.” He paused, steepling his hands. “Regardless, your betrayal has ended here, and will prove fruitless as countermeasures are in place to ensure our secrets are kept well hidden from the outside clans.” The Lasombra smirked, his yellowed teeth peeking through the small slit between his lips. “You know nothing Nicolaus, and you will die a most horrible death with nothing.” The prisoner stood for a moment as though he were contemplating the words of his accuser. “You may be right, but I am aware of one important fact...” The Lasombra arched a single eyebrow. “Humor me Ventrue.” “That [i]you[/i], and you alone, were responsible for the rape, sodomy, decapitation, and burning of the only woman I ever loved. And rather than owning up to such an [i]’accomplishment’[/i] against a defenseless mortal, you pinned it on my Sire, causing decades of tension and mistrust in the wave of your deceit.” The Lasombra cackled in a most horrific manner at the other's words. “So [i]this[/i] was the catalyst of your treason? A mortal woman? Oh Nicolaus...you are a weaker fool than I thought- ” “No!” He interrupted, leaning closer to the cage bars as he stared deeper into the darkened eyes of the Sabbat Inquisitor. “You, my friend, are a disgrace to your kind and an insult to all those who follow your skewed perceptions. You are a sack of sludge unworthy of the unlife Caine has granted.” The Inquisitor snorted as he took a half-step closer to the cage, whispering to the condemned only inches from him. “You [i]will[/i] die in the most painful way imaginable, Nicolaus Strøm. Your body will be divided and sent to the four corners of the world as a warning to all who would even consider betraying the Sabbat. You will-” The Lasombra’s vile speech was suddenly cut short by a long silent dagger jabbed under his chin, and forced up through his skull, penetrating the gray matter within and causing a low guttural sound of blood and bile as it forced its way through his severed vocals. His expression, once full of smugness, had transformed into petrified fear, as streams of thick blood ran down the assailant's weapon hand and his target’s ceremonial black cloak. “I will live...” Nicolaus hissed through clenched teeth as he twisted the steel dagger, causing the low squishing and popping sounds of cartilage and brain tissue. “And I will see that the Sabbat pay in blood, even it takes me until my last nights.” He pulled the dagger quickly from the vampire’s bloodied head, and immediately pierced his heart, which caused the Lasombra to instantly go rigid as the very source of the creature’s unlife was struck the final debilitating blow. And with the blade embedded firmly in place, Nicolaus grabbed the keys to free himself from the cell, allowing the stiff body to fall hard against the stone floor, before kneeling down next to the dying Sabbat Elder. “And by the way.” He said, pushing the vampire’s head to one side and exposing his long, veiny neck. “Kivaria gives her regards...” And with that, the Ventrue sank his fangs deep, draining every last bit of the creature’s vitae, his essence, his soul, and with it a renewal of strength surged through Nicolaus as the stroke of [i]Final Death[/i] took the withered and rotting corpse of the Sabbat. ------------------------------------------------------ Countless decades ticked away on the great clock of immortality, as time was trivial to one who lived forever. Nicolaus was on the run, embedding himself into the Underground realms of Europe, Asia, and eventually, the Americas, building up what he had lost when he severed his ties to the Black Hand of the Sabbat, and much of the Kindred world for that matter. For over two centuries he kept hidden among the mortals, gaining vital contacts, amassing wealth from various business deals, investments, and black market transactions. If living amongst the Ventrue had done anything, it increased a sense of resourcefulness and survival, and his various professional backgrounds and a solid business acumen allowed access into the upper echelons of society where he could keep tabs on both kindred and kine from a safe distance. However, as with any influential individual with a network spanning multiple continents, the shadow that once covered him was slowly fading away as the light of truth and Kindred interests crept back into his life. Among the handful of Camarilla clans, Garou within the Glasswalker tribe, and mortal business partners who had dealings with him, his Ventrue brethren had the most interest (and gain) from his influence, and as trust developed over many decades, his acceptance into their Sect had become a natural occurrence. The Elder Ventrue of Los Angeles invited him to join their ranks and enter into a pact with the Camarilla, hoping his vast network would allow their clan to continue greatness and stability in an otherwise Anarch-driven society. Even as much, Nicolaus not only had to prove himself to the Inner Circle -and those leaders within control of the Free State-but to his own clan, gaining sought after [i]Dignitas[/i] that was lost to the ages, which would again place him amongst the elite of his kind. Eventually he was appointed the “Servire” position, assisting the Archons of that time with intel and just about any other duties required. Near the tail-end of the Twentieth Century, as Lucinde was selected as Justicar representing clan Ventrue, one of her first tasks was to hunt and capture the notorious Samedi diablerist, Genina, which she did, increasing her prestige amongst much of the kindred population. For Nicolaus and his part in assisting Lucinde and her coterie, he was appointed position of Archon, allowing virtually unhindered freedoms in order to bring those kindred who are in severe violation of the Traditions to justice, whether by trial or fire. Nicolaus knew, however, that the exploits of his life leading up to present would come full circle, and that two events were inevitable: His sire would resurface and come for him as either friend or otherwise, and the Sabbat would track him down to exact their own twisted brand of judgement… [/hider] [hider=Notable NPC retainers & contacts (WIP)] Aside from several [i]Servire[/i] at his disposal, below are key NPCs utilized to better solidify the information gathering network: [b]Jack:[/b] (Nosferatu) contact and friend. Works as a jazz pianist. Was quite a handsome man before being embraced by the singer, who'd use Obfuscate to mask her true image. Nico saved his life during a Sabbat attack on his lair. Jack keeps tabs on the comings and goings of those kindred and kine who may frequent establishments he plays at and also uses what pull he has to lend any Underground intel. He also acts as a guide to Nico if the need arises to traverse vast networks of sewers and tunnels. [b]Detective Marcus Elliot:[/b] (Mortal retainer) Works out of LA precinct [b]Samuel Hunt:[/b] (Mortal retainer) High-powered Corporate Lawyer working out of LA [/hider]