Name:
Serrig Mythiar

Age:
28

Supernatural Race:
Werewolf and Lycan Mixbreed

Ethnicity/Race:
Norse Gaelic, Russian

Appearance:
Serrig stands at a lean but sturdy 6'4", with no lack of toned muscle. His mostly bright blonde hair is kept buzzed along the sides and back and either spiked along the top or in a short pony tail. He has bright blue eyes with a bit of a darker ring along the outside. He'll often keep a short beard or goatee especially if he's Hunting.

Technically Serrig has 3 'forms'. His natural human form, his Lycan wolf form, and his bipedal Werewolf form. His Lycan form is a golden wolf, with blonde fur so light it can almost appear white. This form has bright blue eyes.

Though this form is that of a more normal wolf, it is much larger and bulkier. His legs and paws huge and muscled.

His secondary, or Werewolf form, depends on how he transforms. Usually he is unable to control this transformation as it is due to his werewolf heritage, and will always happen during a full moon. His uncontrolled form, though done against his full will is slightly less potent than his berserk Werewolf form.
His regular Werewolf form is a bipedal, lethe, hulking, 8foot mass of black fur, muscle, fangs and claws. Though his transformation is not through his control a part of his mind is still intact so his eyes, though practically glowing with inhuman power, remain blue.

His next form he has come to call Berserk form. This form has happened more times than he'd like to admit but it usually only happens if he is under extremely intense amounts of stress, pain or anger. It's only happened twice when not during a full moon, and only a sparse amount of times during. Though every time in his Werewolf form seems to be a fight with himself for control, His mind and control are seemingly non existent in Berserk form. Oftentimes His fur and bone will tear and grow in even more deformed manner and he grows to practically 9feet with even denser body mass. Seeming to be formed of anger, destruction and mindlessness, His eyes blare a bright white.

His final form is one he has been working on for years. Back before his mother was killed, she was working with him on meditation and control of his Werewolf form, so he could transform and use it's power and agility whenever he wanted. Also to train his mind to remain more himself. He isn't able to transform this way very often and it takes an incredible amount of time, energy and concentration. And it is actually easier to do so when already in his Lycan wolf form. But it is essentially the same size and shape of his Werewolf form except his fur remains a golden white and his mind is completely his own.


Serrig has many tattoos but they're all located on his upper body.
Starting with his supernatural tattoo, it is placed on his left shoulder blade.

Next is his right hand.

On his left forearm.

Right bicep.

Left bicep.

And last but not least his right shoulder blade.


Personality:
Serrig can tend to be immensely cocky and wild at heart. Though he can usually back up his comments, it has gotten him into trouble as well as fights more than a few times. Never one to turn down a fight or brawl, he lives for a good battle. How else is he supposed to learn and get better? At least that's what he always used too tell his mother. Just as stubborn as she was and as strong willed as his father. Back when the other clan boys would taunt him. Back when his only worries were keeping better control of his Werewolf form and where he could get his next meal. Not that he went hungry because his mom lacked the food. But he was always using tons of energy or so it seemed and that made him constantly starving.
Ever since the loss of his clan and his mother Serrig has changed. Though he still has trouble controlling himself when it comes to a challenge or his nights during the full moon, Serrig has learned to take a longer, closer look into planning and gaining wisdom before starting a battle. Especially after taking on the job of a Hunter.
So he can still often be found wide eyed and covered in blood, a pleasant grin on his face when fighting. But also a man of knowledge and strong will.


History:
Serrig was born in his mother's home village on The Isle of Man. Unknown to most travelers, this village had a long history and connection to many ancient gods and their ways. Centuries ago the village clan had done deeds and given sacrifices into many a Celtic deity. And in turn they had received gifts and favors. One of which was the ability to become intertwined with the soul of a wolf. So long as certain ceremonies were upheld, every child born of a member of this clan, would too be able to have this ability.
So it was when Serrig was born. Though his fate would be a tad different. For you see, Serrig's father was of Russian descent. And though That wasn't an issue for his mother or her clan, the fact that he was of pure blooded (not bitten) Werewolf descent was a different subject entirely. Though the Ancient Clan of the Werewolves were considered cousins to those of the Lycan, they were often considered more barbaric and blood thirsty, so viewed as more 'unclean' or ungodly. The Lycan Clans though varied among background and homestead, considered themselves more evolved than their bipedal cousins since they had long ago learned to completely control when they transformed And their minds remained entirely their own.
But love is love Senriel always used to tell her son. And once you find it don't you ever let go.
Serrig's father was a merchant sailor and was often gone on long travels to and from Europe. Being gone as often and as long as he was made many of the village elders happy, as it meant they would rarely have to deal with (or feed) his fathers Werewolf side. He and his mother were allowed to stay in the clan and the village, so long as no problems occurred. Though they remained, Ludvig, Serrig's father often stayed at their boat house near the coast whenever he would return from trips. So as to not upset the clan elders.
Ludvig often brought home gifts from his travels and for Serrig's 18th birthday he gave him a stainless steel necklace that his father said would now be known as their family symbol. Serrig has refused to remove it ever since he left home.

Growing up with the mix of his fathers cocky, titanium will and his mothers stubborn, never give up attitude always made life a bit chaotic for Serrig. He honestly tried not to get into All the fights he did, but he could never claim he didn't enjoy the fight while they lasted.
Though the village was modern day they were far from modern when it came to the clan life style. Being a village of all Lycans can be that way, even in the modern day. They had many modern things like internet and phones, but their everyday life and living were less so. They had only a small market for groceries and other house like things. And a corner store for things like liquor and cigarettes. But being that almost every village citizen could hunt and was trained to cook for themselves, hunt for themselves and survive for themselves from a rather young age. The typical modern necessities were rarely a thing.
Even so, Serrig had a good full childhood, despite the fights and most of the elders looking at him somewhat lowly. His mother worked at the corner store most of his childhood and spent most of her free time attempting to help Serrig control his full moon transformations.
Then, during Serrig's 22nd year, disaster struck. Of course all of the younglings were told of the dangers of the real world. That even normal humans could be very dangerous if they found out about the clans lifestyle and abilities. They had been taught and learned about humans who searched for their kind, hunted them. But not even the elders thought they would be so thorough as to discover and hunt down an entire village.
The day started Like most any other. Serrig woke late and stumbled around the house for a bit until he managed to find food to shove in his face. As his mind awoke slowly he remembered tumbling through the woods to his fathers boat house after another argument with his mother. She wanted him to start working an actual job somewhere as she felt his days in the fighting ring were working against their attempts to better control his full moon transformations. She thought the fights were bringing out his more violent tendencies, and that it was making his Werewolf form more chaotic.
He grumbled heavily and opened one of the bottles of whiskey his dad had on the shelf. What did she really know? He loved fighting and he made Bank at it. So it made him less able to meditate, it wasn't like he had ever hurt anyone when the full moon came around. Not in many many years at least. The village had built an asylum for his full moon nights anyway. In truth it was more like a cage, but he honestly didn't care. He had all the time in the world to learn how to better meditate. He could do that once he was old and tired of getting locked in a silver cage every month. This way he got to fight, drink and have fun. What was so wrong with that?
Rolling onto the couch he pulled his phone off the charger, it was after midday so his mother would prolly have worried about how he was after so long. He stared blankly down at his phone screen for a few moment's. He knew he had left due to their bickering, but that wasn't anything new. Then why did he have 35 missed calls? Pulling the phone to his ear he set down the already half empty liquor bottle and listened to his voicemail.
Screams And howls filled his ear as his mothers voice came through, shaky and weak.
"I... I don't know how, but they found us. Honey they found us. You have to be strong now you hear me? You have to. You have to run. I won't let them find you. I love y.." A startling noise crashed through the phone and then deafening silence. Standing in shock he shook his head furiously to try and clear it. Run? And who are they? Who would hurt his mother? Or any of the clan?
He threw on his jacket and tore out the door. The village was about 10 miles from the boat house so he would me need to move quickly. He looked to the heaven's and sent a small prayer to Odin.
"Please don't let me be too late." He flung himself into his Lycan form and tore through the underbrush of the woods like an arrow searching for a mark. As he got within a mile or so of the village, the scent and sight of fire wafted across his senses. And the smell of charred flesh.
Pulling himself to a halt as he shifted back into human form he stopped at the edge of the woods behind his mothers house. Only the foundation and some walls stood, still smouldering in the sunlight.
His eyes darting around the rubble of his home, he slowly dragged his feet until he stood where the kitchen used to be. He could see down the street where the neighbors houses burned still, bodies and fur strewn across the ashes and leaves. It was almost Halloween and the town had decorations up. They too were burning, like some kind of sick halloween prank. He strode down the pavement into town, barely realizing he hasn't blinked since his eyes caught sight of everything.
Though deep inside he knew what he would find if he went to the corner store, he had to see for himself.
As he entered the whole in the brick wall where the door used to be, his breath caught in his throat. Struggling to choke back tears he fell to his knees next to a large mass of black fur, laying huddled overtop of his mothers still smoldering body. Apparently his father had returned late last night. He was early, he shouldn't have been back for weeks yet. Serrig pulled the lifeless bloody form of his father onto his lap. As he cried mournful howls of agony, he noticed a dagger still stuck into his fathers flesh. Stopping his howling he leaned over to pull it out, just in time for a crossbow bolt to fly by his head.
Rolling into a defensive position he held the dagger in front of him as he looked around for the bolts shooter. Two men stood in the road just down the street, with smiles spread across their faces.
"Well isn't that lucky. We get cleanup duty and there's actually some'in left to take care of. I thought the big boys got all of 'im. Guess they left us a treat." The other man smiled more boldly and pointed the bolt in his hand towards Serrig.
"Here Doggy Doggy, while the bosses are away, we get to play!"

Serrig never got the chance to ask who their bosses were. As soon as the man had begun to speak, Serrig began to black out. He could feel his body transitioning, and it wasn't of his own accord. The last thing he remembers is tearing into the most bloody howl he's ever managed and feeling a surge of power like never before. All he knows is he woke up the next morning covered in blood and ashes on the entire opposite side of the island.

After these events Serrig spent years training, meditating and learning everything possible he could about the ones who attacked his family and his home. He took over his fathers merchant boat and uses it to travel as well as his fathers good name in the business to get things and to places he needs in order to hunt every last Hunter down. He has become a Hunter, and those who would call themselves Hunters are his prey. He won't stop until every last one of them is dust, just like they made his life.
He's come to Gravette on rumours of many different Hunters gathering here.

Strengths:
He is a skilled hunter/tracker when in human form and he knows how to handle himself in hand to hand combat. He's also fairly good at sailing.
In his Lycan form his strength is about 10x stronger as well as his speed and agility. He also has heightened sense of smell, sight and sound, much like a wolf.
In his Werewolf form he's more like 50x as strong as well as having even stronger senses and the ability to use his hands more easily. His jaw and fangs are also more heightened in their abilities to tear and crush.
In his Berserk form his skills and strength are almost 80x his normal abilities and even wounds from fire or silver don't seem to affect him or slow him down much. But he will keep the wound once he returns to normal. Going into Berserk form isn't easy and has never been at his beck and call. So using it for massive overload in strength or skill is not easily done.

Weaknesses:
The usual silver as well as fire. Though he is more so prone to silver when in his Werewolf forms, his Lycan form is weak to it as well.
He has a weakness to being offered a challenge, especially if its for a fight.
There was an Ancient chant or ceremony if you will, that his mother used to perform when he was in his Werewolf form. A ceremony with Ancient Magics and words of the gods, it made his fur glow with Runes and was able to calm and sedate him. She used it most often when he was confined to the clans holding cage for him. He never learned it for himself but if there were others who knew it or could preform it, unless in his Berserk form, it could be used to subdue or even kill him.


Stance:
Active. Though he mostly hunts Wolf hunters, he's never against killing other hunters when the chance arises.

Special Power/Skill:
He has the unique ability, even among other similar supernaturals, to transform into a Lycan(large wolf), and different Werewolf(bipedal wolf) forms. That along with his Berserk form and skills as a hunter/tracker/sailor, make for a very hard to kill beast.

Other:
His clan, mother and father were all followers of the old gods. Both Gaelic and Nordic. And although he doesn't commune regularly, he will often say prayers and keep small traditions to the Old Gods.
Though he rarely speaks it at all, let alone regularly, he does know how to speak Gaelic and some small amounts of Russian.

Name: Kav Vilhjálmsson



Age: 29, though he appears to be in his early twenties.

Supernatural Race: Fae

Ethnicity/Race: Romani/Bosinian



Appearance: Standing at 5’10” Kav has a slender build. Kav carries himself like royalty with an air of pretentiousness; he acts like he owns everything and everyone in any room he happens to walk into. He exudes an aurora of unearned pride and pomposity, even if the situation does not warrant such a display. Even his body posture during daily conversations betrays his arrogance; his arms are usually crossed, and he only makes eye contact sparingly and usually only to display dominance. He is fond of overexaggerated displays of impatience such as rolling his eyes or audibly sighing. His visage is usually plastered with a look of smug assurance or haughty boredom; the type of looks that are highly irritating to most people. Prolonged exposure to extreme annoyance causes him involuntary facial tics. Despite his love of theatrics and the spotlight sometimes Kav needs to exert power in an interaction subtly; he does so by speaking slowly and deliberately, slowing down the pace of the interaction by making others wait for him to respond thereby giving his words more perceived importance. Kav has an androgynous appearance but leans towards the feminine side of the spectrum adorning his visage with luxurious makeup and clothing his body in lavish outfits. For Kav possessing an impressive wardrobe is one of the important functions of life. He loves making an entrance and luxurious attire are a part of that. His personal assortment of clothing only includes pieces from the World’s foremost fashion designers. The only thing he hates more than wearing the same item twice in a row is wearing the same thing as somebody else, he is known to pay designers heftily for one-a-kind outfits. His fashion sense to average person would come off as exorbitantly priced and needlessly flamboyant. He has an unnatural beauty that draws people to him like proverbial moths to the flame and similar to fire there is a high probability that one is going to get burned if one dare to get too close.

Personality: Kav lives a lavish lifestyle and isn’t afraid to flaunt it; humility and humbleness are virtues unknown to him. He certainly likes to believe he is the center of the universe. People (supernatural and human alike) in general are disposable to Kav, even those he is initially attracted to. There exists plenty of spurned lovers and friends whom he rid himself of when the initial thrill of the relationship subsided. Being as narcissistic and self-centered as he is, he is intrinsically afraid of failure and cannot accept even the slightest piece of constructive criticism.; he exclusively surrounds himself with flatterers and bootlickers in order to never be challenged. If he happens to not get his way, is upstaged, or loses he is prone to throw a tantrum. He has a reputation in the circles he travels in of being a selfish braggart, only concerned about himself. Being half-human and half-fae Kav never truly felt a true sense of belonging contributing to his self-centered and delinquent behavior.

History: Kav was born in 1991 around nine months after his mother Rakel Vilhjálmsson and her extended family fled the instability of Yugoslavia for the United States. The family eventual settled in a in a trailer park in Hinton a small town in West Virginia, where they attempted to integrate with the local culture. Though his mother spoke of him often enough, Kav never actually met his absentee father and is unsure if the man managed to weather the chaos that engulfed the Balkans at the time. He has never felt compelled to search for the individual purported to his father, deep down could not handle seeing this Vanja Janković character surrounded by a loving family, giving them the life that should have been reserved for him. For the three long years Kav’s mother held the naïve hope Vanja would arrive out of the blue and reunite the shattered household, but his father never waltzed in the door and lifted them out of the abject poverty they found themselves in as refugees living in a post-communist world. The real world was filled with storybook endings. At seventeen his mother had a carefree and untamed spirt that was not suited for the struggles of motherhood juxtaposed with those responsibilities that came with gainful employment. Much to the chagrin of her parents she refused to repress the wanderlust that is common amongst the Fae and conform to societal norms. Kav was four years old when his mother entered a rusted Volkswagen Microbus with some long-haired friends of Christ and departed Hinton bound for parts unknown; she would sporadically reenter his life throughout the years, though only for a few weeks at most before she would be off chasing some new obsession or passion. Last he heard she was living in some progressive commune located in the Missouri Ozarks.

After his mother absconded with the Jesus freaks, Kav was left to be raised by his assortment of relatives that made the journey to America. The lot of them were as glum as they were proud, in private away from prying human ears the family was in grieving over their loss of status throughout the centuries. His family once occupied a relatively lofty station in the Elvish Principality of Aedirus, which was a quasi-state that governed over all supernatural entities that inhabited Scandinavia from the end of the Wild Hunt to its eventual dissolution during the German invasion of Denmark and the subsequent invasion of Norway in 1940. The regime was recognized by the majority of those non-humans that inhabited the region and it passed laws governing the conduct of its denizens. Some supernatural states do exist in the modern age, but they act in a much-diminished capacity than in their heyday and many are nothing more than fraternal orders or guilds at this point; the reason for the decline in these entities stems from the fact that decentralization is advantageous to those wishing to remain hidden. Internal friction between factions in the Royal Court contributed to the collapse of Principality of Aedirus as did indecisiveness over whether it was advantageous to maintain a policy neutral regarding the warring human factions. The Royal Court narrowly adopted a wait and see policy, which ended in disastrous results. During the Soviet Invasion of Finland in 1939 the Court instructed those paranormals in the area to wait out the fighting and simply recognize the authority of whichever human faction seemed to be in control of the areas they lived in. This apolitical collaborationist approach indirectly cost the lives of hundreds if not thousands. When the German army invaded Demark and then Norway, which were considered the hub of the Principality the Court’s attempts to garner support against the Nazi invaders fell on the deaf ears of those in the provinces that felt betrayed by the earlier inaction of the regime. When the public loses faith in an institution it collapses and thus was the fate of Principality of Aedirus as even after the fighting ceased there were no real efforts from the scattered remnants to reestablish the dynasty.

The dual matriarchs of Vilhjálmsson the clan were Kav’s Aunts Annelise and Hulda; once Kav’s mother left for parts unknown they were left in charge of raising him. They attempted to install in the youth their unique views on the world and how it was improper for alleged royalty to mingle with those brutish humans for more time than was absolutely necessary; humans were disposable tools in the hands of the Fae afterall. They fostered the youth’s sense of superiority by rewarding his snooty, arrogant, cruel, vengeful, and vindictive behavior towards others. Though his Aunts were quick to remind him of his own inferiorities as he was in fact part human himself. While, Annelise and Hulda thrived in the small town atmosphere and enjoyed playing off the trashy local gossip, Kav always longed for the glitz and glamour that his aunts ensured him once existed outside the confines of the trailer park for those of Fae heritage even for halfbreeds such as him self.

After graduating high school, he boarded a Greyhound bound for Los Angeles where he was determined to re-brand himself and enjoy all the accouterments this life had to offer. Nowadays he’s more or less an almost Warholian figure of a public repute, what the youth call an influencer. He ruthlessly fought for his position for at the top and crushed a good many people under his bedazzled heels, while he indeed enjoys his life of privilege he is always on the lookout for potential competition to snuff out before the become a threat. He is the self-appointed Duke of the Upper-Krust a collection of obnoxious internet personalities that thrive on showing off their opulence to the masses. He is always on the verge of being cancelled but seems to manage to mysteriously weasel his way out of any real consequences. He spends most of his days in an expensive penthouse in Gravette with the other members of the Upper-Krust and other toadies who cater to his every whim. It is a fitting start to an entirety of pleasure, what could possibly go wrong?

Strengths:

Wealth – Large monetary holdings have always been an unspoken superpower in capitalist society since its inception. Despite his outward persona of recklessness, Kav is covertly preparing for an entirety of living so he has the best numbers people that he can charm crafting a suitable safety net for himself.

Celebrity – To be famous even internet famous is a gateway to numerous perks within society, most people are willing give the famous more leeway than your average joe. You ever whim is catered to by an ever-revolving door of sycophants and flatterers. Everyone wants you and everyone wants to be you. Granted you live your life under a microscope of scrutiny controlled by the whims of the fickle masses, but as a star you are admired even if it is only fleeting.

Trilingual – He can speak English, Romani, and a Fae Dialect that was indigenous to the Principality of Aedirus
Strong-Willed – This is something Kav apparently inherited from his deadbeat father as the man apparently had a reputation of being stubborn. Kav has yet to come across the man, so this factoid is unverified for the moment. If Kav really desires something he can usually grit his teeth and put his massive ego aside in order to achieve it.

Weaknesses: When it comes down to it he is a half-human and he is vulnerable to most physical weakness that plague humankind in general; a well-placed volley of bullets will outright kill him. As a half-Fae his natural regeneration of wounds and scars occurs at a much slower rate, though he does retain the benefit remaining eternally young. Kav is not physically imposing even by human standards, if forced into a fair confrontation with an opponent he would more than likely lose; his reliance on subterfuge, cheating, and counting on others doing the brunt of the heavy lifting are all variables open for exploitation. Like all narcissists Kav is intrinsically a coward when it comes down to it, if the odds are too stacked against him he will not think twice about cutting his losses and retreating. Like most Fae he has a true name and possessing this information would give you leverage over Kav.

Stance: Inactive. He cares little about the supernatural community and their problems as a secret society is not charity single material after all. Where were they all his life? Hmm? He made it, he is untouchable at the moment and that is all that matters. Privilege has isolated him from the suffering of others, and he is more than content not to change that. Outside of occasionally having to interact with those Fae directly related to him, he actively avoids seeking out those of non-human origins. He is more than happy to masquerade as a clueless human if it directly benefits him.

Special Power/Skill: Like the majority of Fae, Kav also heavily relies on Glamours. His particular brand of Glamours have to do with illusions especially illusions concerning his appearance. With enough effort Kav can alter his appearance to look like any humanoid creature that he has personally seen with his own eyes. As with any performance the more he studied the target he is impersonating the more convincing he can make the illusion; with time he can mimic vocal patterns and the gait of a particular person. Like most glamours, they are not intended to hold up to intense scrutiny; certain factors can strengthen or weaken the glamor like whether Kav knows the true name of those people he intends to fool for example. When “acting” has to be careful about exposing contradictions between his performance and what information his mark already has about the person he portraying; if the mark knowns that the person he is depicting is meek, acting confident would only serve to weaken the Glamour. Kav despises having to portray others and would only do so to produce sufficient black mail material on someone. He mainly uses his Glamours to bolster his already immaculate appearance.

Other : He suffers from acrophobia (fear of heights).