Name: Rowan O' Brien
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Species: Werewolf
Rank: Regular member

Personality: Séamus has a very short temper. He will easily launch himself at someone if they make him angry, and he usually has no remorse. He also doesn't show much emotion. He doesn't like werewolves from other packs, but can get along with them after enough time, and with enough cooperation. He doesn't get on too kindly to other male wolves from his own pack, commonly starting fights. Thankfully, he's one of the strongest of the pack, meaning that he usually wins, or the other people give up. He doesn't like letting others give up though, as he'll be done whenever he's finished punishing them for whatever they've done.

Other: Speaks with an Irish accent.

Appearance:

Rowan is six foot five, and very muscular. He has brown/blond hair that he keeps short. He also has body hair on his front, arms, and legs.

Equipment/weapons:
Rowan is very strong, and doesn't need any weapons.

History: Rowan was born to a werewolf pack in Ireland. He grew up with five brothers and three sisters, all with whom he fought with. Rowan was the third oldest boy, and the fifth oldest altogether, and was a farmer on his family's land, and grew the strength to do this, and combined with fighting with his siblings, became strong. Tired of not being the top dog, Rowan decided to move to New York when he was 19 in order to try and gain more respect.

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: Unknown; most common alias is "The Red Man," or variations thereof.

Age: Again, unknown. Estimated to be roughly nine-hundred years old. To the casual observer, he appears no older than his late forties or early fifties.

Gender: Male

Species: Demon-blooded Human

Rank: Member/Outsider

Personality: To many, the Red Man is a solemn and somber individual. Grim and nearly humorless at first impressions, his dedication to hunting the monsters of the dark seems to have overtaken his entire life. This is only mostly true; while he is utterly dedicated to his "profession," which he performs with grave seriousness, a personable and down-to-earth man lies deep beneath his stony exterior. Simple in taste, and unassuming in manner, the Red Man displays a humility that borders on the servile in private company. Surprisingly intelligent, he displays discernment and tolerance uncommon in his profession. Even deeper down, he is fascinated (some would say obsessed) with the concept of redemption; both in the eyes of God and his fellow men.

Other: As a "Child of the Seventh Generation," the Red Man has inherited a number of supernatural advantages from his demonic ancestor. His slowly-aging body among the most obvious of his strengths, others include the ability to mark sinners and inhuman monsters for all to see, conjuring ever-burning hellfire, summoning and binding lesser creatures of Hell, speaking the lost tongue of Babel, or calling upon the Beast within his blood to take form within his flesh.

Appearance: A massive, imposing figure, the Red Man stands head-and-shoulders taller than a common bystander. His body is thickly-built and muscular from years of training and hard labor, with little slack despite his age. Blue eyes stand out on his roughly-featured face, accompanied by a mane of auburn hair and a thick beard to match. Though his body is still strong, he wears his years haggardly on his face, and silver has begun to creep into the proud red of his hair. Scars and tattoos of varying ages and era cover his body, though he usually keeps them hidden under his clothes. His favored garments, a wide-brimmed hat and an oilskin duster, give his towering frame an even more intimidating silhouette. His clothes otherwise are quite strictly utilitarian; simple fatigues in either grey or black, leather work boots, riding gloves, and an old, ragged muffler.

Equipment/weapons: An expert in improvisation, the Red Man carries little in the way of weapons typical to hunters such as himself. A silver rosary, a somewhat antiquated flip-phone and a windproof lighter make up his most conventional equipment. For armaments, he prefers large-caliber revolvers, which suit his strength and frame and can accommodate special ammunition, such as incendiary rounds or silver slugs. The Red Man typically carries four of these at any given time, hung in holsters under his coat, as well as a variety of ammunition. A well-worn machete is usually kept strapped to his hip in easy reach, and he keeps a carton of cheap, unfiltered cigarettes stuffed away in one of his coat pockets.

History: The history of the Red Man is a long one, and not even the man himself remembers most of it. He assumes that he was born some time not long before the Third Crusade, probably in France. His memories of his earliest centuries are a small collection of sights and sounds, places and battles fought there. Pillaging at the foot of the Balkans, taking fire and steel to the holy land, sacking Jerusalem, and returning home embittered. Memories of the Catholic inquisitions arise somewhere after those, mostly spent breaking the legs of unrepentant Jews and Muslims. It was at this time he remembers, roughly, that he realized that he was not like other men. Methuselah cast into the shape of a mighty Norman. He sought the church for answers, but he was answered only by brands and lashes. When his will would not break and his faith could not be shaken, he was offered redemption, just as he had been offered as a Crusader and as an Inquisitor.

The Red Man took the fury of God into the crevices which normal men dared not tread. He battled against the monstrosities and abominations of the Old World, and emerged victorious. However, as he battled his first demon, the scent of his blood was familiar to the infernal creature, and he told the Red Man of his true heritage. The Seventh Generation after the coupling of a mortal woman and a Prince of Hell always gave rise to a mortal of infernal power, and the Red Man was such a creature. However, the Red Man had long come to terms with what he was over his already long years; his mortal insecurities had grown, blossomed and fallen away. He fought on to redeem himself for the sin that was his very existence. He fought ever harder, believing that through his triumphs he could redeem both himself and his demonic ancestor.

Centuries passed in a blur for some time after. He remembered his bitterness following the plague, and the endless war between the mighty kingdoms of his mother Europa. He left for the New World, and yet war still followed him. He served as a privateer among the tropical island colonies for some time, his allegiance varying wildly between nations as the years rolled by. He did not land in "America" until the colony of Nouvelle-Orléans had been established, yet still spent most of the following century as little better than a common pirate. In these years he lost sight of his holy quest, giving into the debauchery that seemed to thrive in his infernal blood.

However, after his home port of choice had been host to a terrible naval battle, the Red Man once again felt the ground shrinking under his feet. He turned his gaze westward, not riding straight to the coast with the thrill of adventure, but gradually working his way there along the steady pace of farmers and settlers. Hard life on the frontier turned the Red Man back to God, and he committed himself once more to holy service by ridding the West of any evils he encountered, human or otherwise. The two centuries after that were a relative whirlwind for the ancient Crusader, as war and great technological advances ripped through both the United States and the world at large. He kept his head down for the most part, choosing to stay out of the conflicts that continued to tear through the Old World.

While he finds the technological advances of the last century bewildering, the Red Man has done his best to adjust to a world that he finds growing stranger with each passing day. He has generally stayed on the East Coast of the United States since the end of the Second World War, working a gradual circuit from Boston, to New Orleans, and back. Hunting communities often find his presence distasteful, and he is a bane to monsters and maniacs alike, so he stays constantly on the move to avoid undue attention. However, this conflict brewing in New York troubles him greatly; if all-out war spills onto the streets, there will be little left to keep the monsters in the shadows and out of sight of the world at large. The Red Man is unsure of what could happen in such an event, but his experience with holy war tells him that it would not be pleasant.