Beyond the Veil: The Myriad
I've tasted your blood. You'll never escape me.
Auspice: Rahu | Lodge: None | Tribe: Hunters in Darkness
Virtue: Justice | Vice: Lust
Age: 46 | Apparent Age: 22
Health: 9 | Damage: None
Willpower: 6 | Points: 6
Size: 5 | Speed: 11
Defense: 3 | Armor: 1/0
Primal Urge: 4
Essence: 13 | Max: 13 | Per Turn: 2
- Derangements: None
- Purity: 5
- Glory: 0
- Honor: 0
- Wisdom: 0
- Cunning: 2
- Intelligence 2 | Wits 3 | Resolve 3
- Strength 3 | Dexterity 3 | Stamina 4
- Presence 3 | Manipulation 2 | Composure 3
- Mental: Crafts 3 | Medicine 1 | Occult 1
- Physical: Athletics 4 (Throwing) | Brawl 4 | Larceny 1 | Stealth 2 | Survival 3 (Tracking, Navigating)
- Social: Animal Ken 2 | Intimidation 4 (Nonverbal) | Subterfuge 1
- Quick Healer (4)
- Iron Stomach (2)
- Direction Sense (1)
- Attunement (1W, Dice Pool 7 – Resolve)
- Call Element (Dice Pool 12)
- Father Wolf’s Speed (1E)
- Manipulate Element (1E, Dice Pool 8)
- Partial Change (1E, Dice Pool 12)
- Primal Form (1E, Dice Pool 12)
- Savage Rending (1E)
Rites (Dice Pool = Harmony)
- Blessing of the Spirit Hunt
- Rite of Dedication
- Rite of Healing
- Sacred Hunt
- Brass Knucles: 1L, Strength + Brawl (Dice Pool 8)
- Altered Reinforced Clothing: Rating 2/1, Str. 1, Defense 0, Speed 0
- Bowie Knife (Dice Pool 4)
Attire / Equipment
Maxwell’s recent “personality change” has left him with a penchant for being “under dressed.” His normal “outfit” now is usually a set of camo pants with a belt, and that’s usually it. He has a large knife on his belt, and he keeps his brass knuckles in one of his pockets. If he needs to go out into town at all, he has a pair of wooden sandals and an old windbreaker that he wears.
As per weapons, He doesn’t carry a whole lot beyond a set of brass knucles. When you can turn into a 10-foot 400 lb tornado of teeth and claws, packing a weapon loses it’s necessity. He doesn’t much worry about armor either, though that’s more a matter of urgency than anything else. Armor slows him down, and the last thing the predator needs is to be slowed down.
He doesn’t really care for the Hishu form, but it’s a bit of a necessity when he’s not in his own territory. He much more prefers Dalu and Urhan, though they stand out a little in the city.
Before his First Change, Maxwell was a wiry little ginger kid that was usually in one of three places: behind the bus garage (fighting), in the principal’s office (for fighting), or in the nurse’s office (tending wounds received while fighting). Most would think that a person that spends most of his or her time losing fights would either learn to avoid fights or learn how to fight. Most would be wrong.
Maxwell was never a good fighter. He was a little tougher, a little more resilient than his peers, but that just meant the bigger kids had to hit him a few more times before he’d go down. But that changed (to a degree) a month before his 15th birthday. For two weeks things had been freaky. Max thought at one point that he was losing his mind. He’d space out while walking and “come to” standing in the middle of a field with no idea how he got there. He’d put turkey in the oven to cook, and pull out roast beef. He had nightmares about wolves and blood, a scorched plain during a storm of heat lightning. In some he was being chased. In others, he was doing the chasing. One night on his way home from work, a large dog knocked him off his bike and took a chunk out of his arm.
And then things went from bad to worse. On a night when the crescent moon was perched in the sky, in the middle of August, Maxwell was out with his friends. He started to feel hot and claustrophobic, and then he started seeing things. Another world superimposed onto his own. Spirits, ghosts, animistic manifestations of emotions, all swirled into his sight like a light switch had been flicked. He screamed and ran, and the worlds switched. He spent the rest of the night wandering the nightmarish other world, trying to find a way back, constantly shifting and transforming into various forms of monster.
Maxwell has become a regular member of the team now, though a strange encounter with a spirit-beast altered his own spiritual nature, and the once stoic, thoughtful young man is now much more feral. He has embraced his solitude, going so far as to eschewing normal comforts of a home to spend most of his time in the woods around Plattsburgh. He still comes when called by the team, but he is otherwise a very hard man to track down.