Name: Elwood
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Species: Gargoyle
Rank: Leader of Manhattan Clan

Personality: Elwood is a bit harden; he likes to pretend that people and things don't get to him anymore, regardless of how false that may be. He keeps a cool head most of the time, and puts his clan first. He has been known to have a temper when things don't go even remotely right; especially when he's work for it. He doesn't have a whole lot of patience for lack of intelligence. Stupid people irritate him more than anything else.

However, under his thick hide there is a tender heart. Elwood doesn't show this side often, too used to having to be the invulnerable leader. But to those he knows as friends, he isn't afraid to reveal his emotions to. He'll ask for advise, opinions, or maybe just a talk. Sometimes big scary gargoyles need to talk about their feelings.

Other: He has placed the clan on top of a large sky scraper as their resting ground. A smaller, abandoned apartment complex next door serves as a meeting place/nest.

He does not allow vampires or other human-hunting creatures in his territory.

Appearance: Elwood's looks command respect. His skin is emerald green and smooth like high quality suede. He stands at a towering 8'2", with a massive wingspan. His build is very muscular, with broad shoulders. He's clearly build for strength, not agility.

Weapons/Equipment: Nothing worth mentioning.

History: Elwood was hatched in a small castle in Ireland. He lived there with his clan until he was 23. During that time, he hardly ever saw a single human being. Sometimes they would come along the hiking trails, or ride horses by, but he never really interacted with them. He'd heard legends of how the gargoyle was made to protect the keepers of their castles. But their castle was abandoned.

Or at least, it was. One day a group of humans came to the castle and started poking around. The castle was decaying, and was set for demolition the following week, but they wanted to make sure that nothing valuable was left inside. Some of the gargoyles caught the eyes of the visitors, and they decided to come back the next day to pick them up and auction them off.

The gargoyles were sold online at very high prices, being in great condition considering their surroundings. Elwood and a few others were sold and shipped off to separate corners of the globe, while the rest were destroyed in the demolition. Elwood broke free of his sleep one night to find that he was inside a large box. Confused, he wreaked havoc, tearing through the wood to find more boxes. He was buried under tons of cargo crates on a ship.

Unable to escape, he was forced to sleep there again. The next night, he awoke on top of a stone column in front of a mansion on Staten Island. He took off into the night to find out where the hell he was, and was thrusted into a world of lights, crowds, and little greenery. For a while, he hid in Central Park. It was the only place he ever felt truly at ease.

When he found the Manhattan Clan, they were still a small group. He joined them so that they could teach him how to survive in this new world. Luckily for him, Elwood had always been versatile. He grew used to the loud, crowded streets, and soon he learned to thrive there. Over the years, he gained favor in the clan and eventually became it's leader.

He did eventually learn about his castle and old clan being destroyed, and it grieves him to this day. It's hard to not dwell on it, and hold it against the humans for their carelessness. But Elwood has more or less put it behind him, because now New York City is his castle, and he has to protect it from the things that come.

Names: Amid and Kadir Karzai
Ages: 25
Genders: Male
Species: Humans
Ranks: Hunters

Personalities: Amid and Kadir are twins. They have been together their whole lives, and, for the most part, they were all each other ever had. As such, their personalities are very similar; they both have similar interest and goals. They're both young and eager to do something that they think matters.

However, the brothers vary in their own little ways.

Amid take up the role of big brother. Possibly the smarter of the two, he takes pride in his ability to form strategies and plans. He has a certain foresight that his 'baby' brother lacks. Amid is less likely to take a risk, and more likely to sit back and think things through. He's often the cooler headed one of the two. He's a bit less emotional than his brother.

Kadir is the reckless one. Although not stupid reckless. He knows that, from watching his brother, strategy pays off. But while his brother plans, Kadir paces. He's a bit on the hyper active side, always wanting to move and do something. Sometimes, this comes as an advantage. Kadir can stay up all night and take watch on hunts while his brother sleeps, and then catnap throughout the day with no ill effects. He can sit down and focus on one task, such as cleaning their guns or mapping the city, and be done in half the time it would take his brother. Kadir is always on his toes; a fast thinker.

Other: The Karzai twins were born in Afghanistan. Both are multilingual due to their travels.

Equipment and weapons: Amid was adamant that they invest in at least some creature hunting gadgets, but for the most part, they live on a budget. Both brothers own rifles and proper ammo (lead and silver), and both have their knife collections, but that was the cheaper stuff.

They recently bought a magic version of a cutie pie device that detects the trace levels of "magic" that all inhumans admit. Areas that they frequent will have higher levels. The only problem with this is that, when near witches, the device goes haywire. The merchant forgot to mention that when the brothers bought it.

Kadir bought a stake gun specifically for killing vampires, which Amid thought was a dumb ass idea.

Amid has a silver coated knife, and Kadir had one with a diamond edge. Both were incredibly expensive, leaving the brother's recent sphinx hunting money drained.

Appearance: Amid and Kadir are identical twins, but it's easy enough to tell them apart. Both are of Arab nationality, which tan skin, dark brown hair, and dark brown eyes. They're both around 5'10" and have lean muscular builds.

Amid has a small scar on his left cheek, and wears his hair shorter than his brother. His style is casual: button up shirts and slacks.

Kadir has longer hair. He dressed a bit more sloppy, preferring t-shirts and jeans, and sometime sweatpants.

History: The brothers were born in a small village in Afghanistan. As children, they played in the streets, never once feeling unsafe. This changed when a group of men came into town one day. The boys were about 13, and they didn't understand much about politics yet.

The men demanded food and supplies, but the villagers refused to help them. Their mother told the boys that these men were bad; they killed people for power and wanted to overthrow the government. Because the village refused to give in to their demands, the men demolished it. They shot people in the streets, burned houses, and raided and looted all they could.

The boys' mother gave them each a backpack with food and water and told them to run and hide in the desert until things had calmed down. They did just that, but when they returned, there was nothing left.

Amid and Kadir were left alone. Those who had managed to survive the attack were too busy with their griefs to bother with the boys. So the two set off into the desert to head to the nearest city. They hoped to find work there, and maybe pick up the shambles of their lives. It was during this journey that they first saw a mythical beast. It was part lion, part bird, and had the head of a woman. It terrified the two boys, who hid from it.

When they got to the city, they tried to tell people of the creatures lurking out in the desert. Their claims were brushed off by everyone except for one man, who took them aside and told them that what they saw was a sphinx. Part woman, part lion, and part bird, the sphinxes of the desert were vicious beasts. They would stop travelers and give them a riddle. If the traveler couldn't answer the riddle, they were eaten. The man explained that he and a few others hunted these beasts, and that there was good money in selling their parts on the black market.

So of course, the two young brothers wanted in. The man took them to his comrades, who agreed to help train the boys. It wasn't terribly unusual to see boys so young fighting in wars, so why not fight creatures? Amid and Kadir hunted sphinxes for years, traveling all around the middle east and eventually into Asia. This opened a new world of creatures to them. They hunted kappas and dragons, and all sorts of other critters.

Eventually, they found their way into Europe, where vampires were the ruling beast. They found that it was trickier to hunt sentient beings, but they were regarded as heroes for killing the monsters. The small towns plagued by the beasts would often reward the brother heavily for their efforts.

Eventually, they caught wind of the turmoil in New York. They caught a private flight overseas and began setting up shop. However, the diversity of the inhumans in New York wasn't what they expected. The brothers joined the hunting guild so that they could learn about the local creatures.

Name: Baghead
Age: Unknown (For both entities)
Gender: Male (The wearer that is, the Bag is only male in essence)
Species: Human (The wearer of the Bag, not so much the Bag itself)
Rank: Newcomer to the New York Huntsmen

Personality: Scores of men and women have donned the Bag throughout its time. Each one was their own person, but once they took up that old, ragged mantle, their thinkings and perceptions were superseded by that of the original Bagman. And he himself was, and still is, a cold and sinister man set on one simple goal - to kill monsters, any and all, who would do ill against mankind. He is often solemn, though he is liken to chat with those who share his profession, on just about any subject, even outside of hunting. He has been witness to centuries of human advancement, and is versed in many subjects, even if he may not seem it. Those he becomes friendly with may find him to be somewhat brash and humorous, though of the morbid kind.

Other: Those who wear the Bag and let it control their actions are still very susceptible to death, but the Bag is not so easily undone. The Holders are always close by, ready to reclaim the Bag when its wearer falls, and send in a replacement to keep the work going.

Appearance: Most every iteration of the Baghead has looked different from the last. Times change, vessels are swapped. The Bag itself, of course, never changes, but everything else does. This Baghead of today dons a simple white, long-sleeved, buttoned shirt, black dress pants with a leather belt, black dress shoes, black leather gloves, a beige leather trench coat reaching down to his knees, and atop the Bag rests a brown fedora with a black band.

Equipment/Weapons: Just as the Baghead's appearance changes, so to do the tools with which their work is carried out. Silver pellets and wooden stakes have been either traded out or upgraded into new, modernized versions of themselves. Today, he is equipped with the following weapons - a custom-crafted heavy pistol for louder confrontations, a compact crossbow for stealth and subtlety, and a silver hatchet for when things get messy. Alongside these offensive tools is an old little bauble, able to detect arcane energies and inhuman essences. There's also things more belonging to the man who wears the Bag than the Bag itself, such as a phone and a wallet, but those are largely unimportant in the business of hunting, save for contacting the Holders.

History: The strange tale of the Bagheads reaches ever so far back to the faded roots of known history. It is a story that some will tell their children either to scare them, or to give them hope. And the story itself is relatively simple. It involves a man, monsters, and a leather bag.

Once there was a man, now obscured and unfamiliar to all others, who hunted monsters. He hunted them with such fervor and bombast that, he himself almost seemed one of them. His people praised him, and his enemies feared him. It always went unknown who this man truly was, for he wore a simple leather bag over his head, concealing his true identity, and taking up the name of "the Bagman". It was sometimes believed that it was, in fact, no man at all, but the Bag itself that hunted in the night, lacking meat and bone and flesh beneath its woven strings. But despite the rumors that might have spread, he truly was just a man in the end. He was slain one nightly hunt, in his prime no less. His body was torn apart, and his mask was cast into the dirt.

The Bagman was dead, but he was not gone. Anger, and vengeance, and purpose coursed through the fabric of the leather mantle. A young man, follower of the masked hunter, came and claimed it one night as its slayer was away. He vowed to carry on his hero's work, and bid the Bag his former bearer's strength. And his strength, that young man did obtain, and much more indeed. The two combined became the very first of the Bagheads. Two minds, one vessel.

For years, this successor to the Bagman carried out much the same work he did, until such a day came that he began to grow old, and feeble. But the Bag refused to stop there. Together, they formed a cadre of servants to this one task - pass down the Bag to those who would see inhuman kind be undone, so that men could rest easy in the night. These servants became known as the Holders, and they pledged themselves to the Bag, and hunter after hunter who carried on its work.

Many years have passed. Hunters have come, and hunters have gone. But the Bag itself has ceased to rest, and neither have the Holders. Baghead after Baghead, more and more monsters see their end at the sight of the old, ragged leather. The Holders assist the Bagheads however they can, telling them where the inhuman congregate, and supplying them with tools with which to work. The Baghead of today has come to New York City, as word of the underlying presence of monstrous beings has caught his ear. He intends to carry out the same service he has in so many other places and times.

And he just may do so with the help of the local Huntsmen.

Name:Charles Galloway
Age:21
Gender:Male
Species:Witch
Rank:Charles serves as a diplomat/spymaster of sorts. He deals with the leaders of the other ruling factions, and makes sure that they don't do anything rash or stupid. Since talk of war has broken out, he's had his hands full trying to prevent it.

Personality: Charlie is charismatic and funny, a true jokester. But past the charisma, he's an extremely intelligent and very manipulative young man, someone that you wouldn't want to cross. He stays true to his friends, and his enemies are never forgotten. He believes that the ends justify the means, and is willing to do just about anything to get what he wants. He can be rather self serving, although he's always willing to help a friend in need, just so long as it doesn't interfere with his own needs.

Appearance:


Equipment/weapons: Charlie uses a revolver as his weapon, and always has some ammo for it on hand.

History: Charlie's parents were the definition of soul mates. They met as teenagers and fell in love. Once they graduated college, his father, George, asked his mother, Lillian, to marry him. She said yes, and a year later, Charlie was born. His parents then opened up a small shop that sold trinkets to passerby. While most people believed them to be just trinkets, his mother liked to enchant them with small charms that would help people out in small ways, like keeping them healthy.

Charlie's childhood was a happy one, and his parents trained him in the ways of magic. He always was rather skilled with it, and is respected around the supernatural community for his skill. When he became an adult and full fledged member of the coven, he was elected to the position of Head Diplomat, a rather prestigious position for someone so young, but one that he earned.

Since then, he's made many friends across the city, and works tirelessly keeping the other factions from getting too pushy with the Coven, while also trying to gain more power for the witches. He was also able to gather a group of witches who were out of work. They act as a sort of gang for him, and carry out anything that he can't see to personally.

Name: Alexander Thompson
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Witch
Rank: Leader of the Brooklyn Witches

Personality: Alex is a warm soul. He is always wearing a smile and greets with warmth. He has impressive analytical abilities that stretch to his well-developed people skills and robust social relationships; and though he is the judging type, he is often receptive to change and new ideas. He is often meticulous to the point of perfectionism, and though he procrastinates, Alex can always be relied on to get the job done on time. Alexander takes his responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond, doing everything he can to exceed expectations and delight others, at work and at home.

He has a tendency to underplay his accomplishments, and while his kindness is often respected, more cynical and selfish people are likely to take advantage of Alex's dedication and humbleness by pushing work onto him and then taking the credit.

Naturally social, Alex utilizes excellent memories not to retain data and trivia, but to remember people, and details about their lives. He will never forget who his friends are and who helped him along the way. Alex has a tendency to be underestimated because of this kindness he fosters, but in actually he is quiet strong will and can be bull headed sometimes.

Other: He got BA's in botany and biology and owns a flower shop off of Ocean and Parkside Ave. The entire building also doubles as a coven house that he lives in ans some other who need it.

Appearance:


Equipment/weapons: Nothing at the moment.

History: Alex was raised in New York all his life. He grew up with two magically gifted parents and had deep roots at the Brooklyn Coven. His parents had always preached to him about not misusing his abilities and being a upright citizen at all cost. It became so strict that he could not take it anymore, and left after high school. Alex went to college on the other side of the country and stayed as a guest in another coven. He wanted to see the world and meet other witches from all around and be exposed to something beside his "safety net".

Every year while in college he would study abroad unaware to the things going on back home not answering his parents calls while in Paris. Not responding to their emails when he backpacked through Italy. Not writing back to them while he received their letters in London. Alex had completely neglected his responsibilities to his coven and his parents and it was not until he was 25 that he came back to his home in New York.

When he came home he found that his parents had died when some Huntsman had raided their herbal shop. He went through half a year of grieving, feeling the true sting of guilt. His guilt came from ignoring their pleas and not coming home more often. He was grieving for not being here and being able to do something for his parents in their time of need. After he stopped crying he decided to make it up to them by devoting himself to the coven and sharing what he had learned on his ravels. for two years he taught his people in Brooklyn what he had learned from different parts of the world, from the spells to the potions to the enchantments to the curses.

After sharing most of his knowledge and showing his devotion, it was a collective decision that he be made Coven leader because of his strength, knowledge and oath he made to them. He just recently accepted the offer from the elders, and now he is filling in his new position. Trying his best to keep his people safe and rebuild what they once had.

He leads with a heavy weight on his heart due to his parents death and now he uses that to help him make decisions to help his people as a whole. But with the deaths and the imminent threat of war on the horizon, Alexander wants no part of it, it will only cause more death and pain for everyone. But now all he can do is prepare and wait for someone else to cast the first blow and hope for the best.

Name: Kinjabal
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Species: Troll
Rank: Second-in-Command

Personality: Despite being what some would consider an adult troll, there was always one particular trait that Kinjabal never let go from his younger years. That trait would be a desire to experience the excitement of life, which is often visualized as thrilling adventures and epic battles. The trait has dulled, as he no longer thinks that the world can provide either adventure or epic battles, but it still resonates within him with enough influence to have him seek some sort of conflict.

Aside from that, he's usually very competent in his personal decisions, and rarely goes against Tribe Leader's proposals and plans. That being said, he is still very arrogant and cocky, boasting about his skill and strength whenever not discussing anything that would affect the tribe as a whole. He's also driven in whatever goal he or his tribe has decided on, and is almost too stubborn to be convinced that certain decisions that have been made are bad.

Other: He tries to hide it, but when a woman tries to flirt with him, he gets really flustered.

Appearance: Despite the picture, it really only shows off his physique, rather than the normal clothes he wears. Casually, he wears large jeans and and a tank top, covered in large coats with large hoods, and inner pockets that hide smaller weapons like his pistol and tomahawk. He also wears boots and fingerless gloves. When hiding among the humans, he's usually avoiding large crowds or anyone that may get close enough to see past the shadows of his coat's hood. To hide his hair, he slicks it back with water before pulling the hood over his head.



Equipment/weapons:

• Barreta 90
• Iron Tomahawk
• Earbuds that are synched to a radio frequency that only the Trolls of Staten Island have access to.
• Knife

History: Kinjabal was born and raised in Manhattan...well, raised the way trolls are raised anyway. His life on its own was always filled with a sense of longing. Like other trolls, he wanted to live out in the world as an equal, but he was raised to believe that humans would treat him and the rest of his kind either as barbarians or even monsters. As a child, he thought that it was foolish of humans to think that way, when most had probably never have seen one for themselves at this day and age. As an adult, he carries a bit of that thought process, only with a better understanding behind the reasoning behind it.

Unlike what most would believe, Kinjabal didn't train all his life to become a warrior. In truth, he's was more a mischief maker. Instead of lifting rocks and boulders and bags of produce and all matter of other idiotic sounding strength "exercises" to become strong, he focused more on annoying and enraging others. He started off by tossing pebbles, then moved on to a slingshot as he got older. By the time he was considered a teenager, he was one of the most skilled marksman in the tribe, and proud to boot.

He joined the ranks on a whim, as mischief had become boring to him back then. Other trolls managed to train and discipline the young Kinjabal, and influence his views on the state of things. He became aware of the general wellbeing of the tribe, and found a responsibility to fulfill their shared dream of living out of the hiding. Though he still have a bit of his mischievous self, his first and foremost thoughts belong to his loyalty to his people.

Removed.