Appearance: Fenros stands at six foot, and weights 250 hundred pounds of muscle. He is solid as a rock from the years of training. He has amber eyes that eerily look like a wolfs. He shaves his head often, He has the makings of a beard but it never grows as he shaves it every other day as well to avoid having hair for witches to take and use against him.
His body and face has multiple scars on it from years of fighting, which causes multiple breaks in his thin beard as well. His face is hard, and almost as if he is in constant pain. He rarely smiles and always seems to have slight scowl upon his face.
The only Armor he wears covers his shoulders and arms, as well as his shins. A thicker leather coat/vest under that. He has multiple pouches where he keeps his supplies. He also always has a necklace with is wife’s ring attached to it around his neck.
Age: 28
Short History:
Fenros was born to Selena and Hector Digard, a hunter couple, and like many who group up with hunter parents, he also grew to be a hunter. The Digards were known to hunters throughout the world, for their skill, strength and feats. Hector was a recent legend, being the man who finally killed the last Von’strouss. An ancient witch family that bound powerful demons to do their bidding.
Despite the fame, and the money from the hunts, Fenros grew up practicly outside camping and learned survival skills. Like his father and his fathers before him, they were strong. Inhumanly strong due to the blood of a werewolf from his great,great,great,great grandfather.
While they can still be hurt by normal weapons, they do heal a lot faster than normal people. Nasty gashes would be healed in a week or so. Silver does burn them, and obviously being stabbed with silver can be deadly depending on the wound. This made them ideal for hunting Witches. But it is also a curse, as they have a dark stain in their blood they have to keep check on their mental stability, While they will never fully turn into a werewolf, they might more easily fall prey to the dark temptations from witches.
Fenros also has the ability to talk with Wolves, a trick that has been very useful in tracking witches and not being caught with his pants down. Fenros was a born natural when it came to hunting witches, with the help of his father who was a legend of a hunter himself. Fenros rose to be one of the most feared hunters by witches by the age of twenty five, hence the nickname The Terror of Witches.
This drive that lead him to this title was not because he wanted to become the best hunter. It was purely out of revenge and hate. Fenros had a childhood friend who at an early age, figured out his family’s curse. Instead of being terrified, she was fascinated. This only helped them grow closer to becoming best friends, then into a romantic relationship. Fenros and Tanya were married at the young age of seventeen. They were happy and were in bliss for five years, They tried to have a child, but it would seem that Tanya was barren. But by some miracle she became pregnant, and all was going beautifully once again. Till one night.
Fenros came home after a short trip to hunt a werewolf, to find his wife gutted and left on the floor of their home. Their baby killed as well with the same wound. Wracked with grief he held his wifes cold body in his arms for hours. He noticed some markings on the ground only after this, instantly he realized that his wife and unborn child were sacrificed...to extend the life of a witch. He tried to look for more clues, Attila sniffed one out already but didn’t disturb her master as he grieved. When he was ready she revealed there was a tuft of hair that was by Tanya that wasn’t hers. Black and grey while hers was strawberry blonde.
It would have seemed she managed to yank a chunk of the witches hair out before she was murdered...as she knew Fenros and Attila would find it. Fenros buried his wife and unborn child, and as soon as he was able to pull himself away, he began his hunt for the witch.
A day or so later he came upon a castle. Clearly taken over by a powerful witch and her coven, as the undead roamed, guarding it. His rage was building up to this point it boiled over as he charged through the gate, his massive sword drawn and his war cry loud. He didn't care if he was at a disadvantage by doing so. He wanted them to know their death was coming.
He fought, with the rage in each swing, killing each foul thing that stood in his way. His blood boiling as his curse granted him strength. The only thing keeping him sane was the thought of avenging Tanya. Several witches stood in his way, The few spells that actually hit Fenros did very little to stop him. His brain seemingly shut down his nerves. He slaughtered. Every. Single. One. Each brutally beaten, hacked. Some ripped apart by Attila, while others by his own hands.
After what seemed like hours, he finally made it to the room which the witch was hiding, crushing the heavy door open with a kick.The witch, Ruvina, attacked. But he was strong, Tired from the battles before, he quickly went on the defensive, being driven back by the witch, tossing him around like a Ragdoll. For a few minutes it looked like Fenros would meet his end by the same witch who killed Tanya. She taunted him, explaining what she did to his wife, that she picked her because he killed her sister. She quickly disarmed him, and continued to toy with him. She grew over confident and got too close Fenros, laughing in his face...calling him weak, and how his wife squealed like a pig.
His eyes filled with pure fury and hatred. With his arms pinned, he did the only thing he could. He lunged forward with enough force to dislocate his own shoulders and sank his teeth into her throat. Ripping it out. The witch Ruvina’s laugh cut short by the sound of a nasty gargle. Her spell broke, freeing him. Ramming his body into her as she stumbled, knocking her over. As she looked up at him, Terror in her eyes as she saw her throat in his jaws. His fangs now bare, She could see the werewolf in him now. She only thought it a rumor.
Fenros spat the witches flesh out onto her. His arms useless at the moment, he re raised his foot and with all his might, stomped on the hags mouth. That same mouth that dared defile his wife's memory. That mocked the both of them. A sickening crunch was all that was heard, as the witches body became still.
After standing there, breathing heavily as the fatigue suddenly crashed upon him. He stumbled back and fell against the wall he was once pinned to. After a few minutes he forced himself up yelling in pain, anguish, hatred. He went to the door jam, and after a moment, slammed his shoulders into it one at a time. A loud pop could be heard as he put both of his shoulders back into place.
He wiped the blood off his face in disgust. Then he reached into his pack and pulled out a small leather pouch of salt, tossing a lot of it over the corpse. He then smashed the chairs and tables, tossing the wood onto the witch, and tossed a lit oil lamp on top of that. He waited, making sure the body started to burn before pulling a torch off the wall and picking up his sword. As he exited he lit every piece of fabric he could. Smashing any other lamps he found until he walked into the courtyard. Tossing the torch to the side and sheathing his blade onto his back, walking into the night as the castle quickly caught fire.
He continued after that, killing as many witches he could find, as well as continuing to hunt werewolves and any other creature he could get his hands on. The wealth of knowledge he gained from his father is immense, and he knows the weakness of just about every fell creature out there. No time for a personal life anymore, he spends all his time hunting.
Type of Woman: Elegant, kind, Shy and mysterious.
Weapon of Choice (only one): Claymore - Witches Bane
The blade stands up to his chest, and is made of silver and Iron carbon composite. Which gives it strength, and makes it extremely effective against werewolf's, witches and dispersing ghosts. The blade is blessed, and has a special device that releases holy oil onto the blade. Created by Bobby, a close family friend.
Pets/Familiars:
Large Wolf named Attila, who he raised from a pup 6 years ago. Standing she is almost four feet tall, weighing roughly 100 lbs. She never leaves his side for long. Usually only to go hunting for food or if tells her to stay. She doesn’t like that one bit.
Fetzen
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