Adrian Montrose

Name: Adrian Montrose
Gender: Male
Orientation: Straight
Real Age: Born in 1480
Physical Age: 28
Species: Vampire
Sire: She was known by many names, superstition prevented me from knowing her true name. She believed that knowledge of her true name would allow anyone to magically control over her. But I can tell you this, she was the most beautiful being that I have ever laid eyes upon and the most ruthless.
Religious Affiliation: Agnostic; It is hard to deny the presence of GOD, when you are immortal.

Specialties Skills:

1. Master Baroque Painter
2. the Occult
3. Vampiric Abilities

Pheromone Control

Defy Gravity

Super Healing

Super Speed

Telepathy

Super Strength

Weakness:

Sunlight

Fire

Gold: I am extremely susceptible to gold. It's touch burns like rays of the sun against my skin.

Impalement:

Amputation: complete removal of my heart would result in final death.

Decapitation: being beheaded would result in final death.

Hair: Dark Amber
Eyes: Light green
Height: 5'9
Race: Caucasian
Nationality: French
Skin Tone: Pale Alabaster
Body Type: Athletic
Appearance: I consider myself to be attractive. Although I am not terrible tall, however thanks to Immortality I still appear to be in my mid 20’s. I love to wear leather coats, jean's as well as leather boots. I shy away from mainstream fashion and I tend to dress more in a darker style. I have no piercings or tattoos. But, tend to keep my amber hair a bit longer than regular guys.
Family Members: Deceased
Prey: Mainly women
Personal Memoir:
I was born in France, in the year 1480, the only child of a Roman Catholic family. My father, was deeply religious, and a extremely abusive man, who supported his family as the local smith of our small village.

I spent my childhood, trying to live up to the enormously high standards set by my father, and was beaten every time I disappointed him. Because of this, I became very close to my mother, who desperately tried to protect me from his wrath, but only succeeded in sharing in the abuse.

She was an innocent, child of nature and the only literate member of the family; She secretly practiced the arcane arts and hid her activities from her overly-religious husband. She would teach me what she knew with the hopes of protecting me from the physical and preternatural dangers of the land.

One accursed day, my father came calling and discovered my mothers dark secret. Outraged, he took her and with a calloused fist filled with golden locks of hair, violently drug her through the town and towards the cathedral. Before everyone proclaimed her a witch. His testimony was enough to lock her away with in the town keep until church authorities could arrive and deal with this blasphemer personally.

From what I remember, it was abnormally wet. Grain lay rotting in the fields due to the nearly constant rains. With the harvest so adversely affected it seemed certain that there would be food shortages. But with the news of her crimes, these signs of famine would be conveniently blamed on her.

Before long, a crowd had gathered in the town square. At my fathers side, I stood held tightly as I watch my mother be bound to an upright stake atop a mound of shorn timber. “NO!” I roared. "Silence, child! You are too young to understand. I am saving her soul. I am doing this because I love her." My father said, tightening his vice like hold. I looked up at him with cold indignation. Tears swelling in my eyes.

An Inquisitor stood atop a pedestal in the vestments of a high standing member of clergy, and in a gesture of feigned benevolence; he made the sign of the cross, then spoke aloud. “You are charge with heresy, for the practice of black magic and it is through the infinite compassion of our Lord God, that you shall burn in purifying flames, cleansing your soul and freeing this curse upon our land.” Outrage rippled through the crowd. “Burn her” they all chanted.

“May god have mercy upon your soul.” the executioner whispered as he placed a leather pouch of black powder around her neck. Then stepped down from the pyre. He then reached for a lit torch and touched it to the kindling. Flame slowly rippled upward, distorted her body and licked her face. She looked out through the rippling wall of flame, as she desperately looked for her son. She cried out my name. "Remember that I love you." she said and it was as if GOD said she had suffered enough, the powder bag exploded, snuffing her life in an instant. At that moment my faith in religion died with her.

I longed for retribution. It was then that I began to devote myself to the way of the sword. Strengthening both my body and mind. The nightmares of that night, kept me committed to my goal. I eventually became an esteemed member of the town guard. I hid my contempt well and masqueraded as a loyal subject of the Pope. All the while, I was just biding my time and plotted my revenge.

The people of my village requested my help with a pack of wolves that were terrorizing the livestock. I naively agreed, then rode into the forest of Fontainebleau, confident in my success. I couldn't wait too head back, I knew that my bravery would win me the adoration of the young village women. I was so focused on which one girl I would choose first, that I lost track of where I was and missed the signs of ambush.

My horse reared up, it was clear she could sense something that I could not. Her reaction snapped me back into reality and began to immediately search the area. I was clearly the prey and could feel eyes upon me. All was quite, save for the intermittent whines of protests from my horse. Before I knew it, a large wolf leaped from the brush and knocked me from my horse. I hit the ground with so much force that I was instantly winded.

I tried to stand, and unsheathe my blade, only to be hit again from another wolf. With the adrenaline flooding in my veins, I did not even notice the razor sharp claws that tore in to my flesh. With blade in hand, I brandished my sword with panache, my actions big and theatrical, very reminiscent of Errol Flynn. From the corner of my eye I could see another wolf charging me, I swung. The yelp let me know that I hit it, but its momentum carried forward and knocking me a bit off balance. The wolf was followed with the rest of its pack mates and landed three fast, hard blows, sending me reeling. “Son-of-a-bitch!” I exclaimed, staggering in pain, one hand on one of many wound. At some point in the conflict, my horse fed in fear, leaving me with no hope of escape.

Looking upon it in retrospect, I failed to see that they were merely toying with me and at any time they could have killed me. But, in defiance I fought on. It was clear, these beasts were not normal wolves.

But after they had their fill, I was left there in the heart of the forest to die. I could only surmise out of pure speculation that these beast had no appetite for human flesh and it was the sent of my blood that attracted a far more dangerous predator.

Laying helpless upon the blood-soaked earth, she approached me like an a goddess trapped in human form. Her beauty was unmatched by any woman that I had seen, then and even now. She knelt next to me. "So brave..." She said, her voice was as warm as the sun and smooth as silk. "Your dying Adrian. Do you wish to live?" she asked. I had yet to achieve retribution and it took everything that I had left, just to utter the word "Yes."

She took me in her arms, kissed my neck and I felt a slight pinch as her teeth sank in to my flesh. The fear and confusion faded, replaced by pleasure, as my blood ebbed from my body. But, pleasure would give way to Hunger as I tasted her blood.

My mind began to clear and the lessons childhood prepared me for this moment. I knew now that I was in the presence of a vampire. But, it took a while to grasp the thought of what I had become.

I soon acclimated to the change and accept what I was. I quenched my thirst as a neophyte vampire by consuming the blood of animals. Which amused my sire greatly, she thought it best that I try a new cuisine and while simultaneously achieving retribution.

I was too eager to comply my sire's request. Under her tutelage, she showed me the art of the Hunt and taught me how to use the shadows and the terrain to my advantage. I caught on quickly and not even the town watch was aware of my Presence.

She told me to adhere to the cardinal rule of immortality at all times, which was to always hide my true nature form my prey and that breaking this rule would result in death. Either by humanity or by my fellow brethren.

I entered in my fathers domicile and found him sleeping next to his new bride. "You must not wake him." she said to me. "We cannot risk the chance of them screaming and drawing unnecessary attention." I nodded in acknowledgment, then followed her guidance to the letter and with a firm hand around his mouth, I bit hard into his neck. Making sure to make the experience as agonizing as possible for the old man. He struggled, but my new strength was no match for the man. I looked up and noticed my sire feasting on the old mans wife. Revenge tasted so good.

With the old man dead, we then brought slow agonizing death upon the executioner and then moved to finalize my revenge by going after the Inquisitioner who damned my mothers soul.

It was then as he held a gold crucifix up defensively, I discovered my intolerance for gold as I knocked the religious objects from his hand that I felt a sharp pain, as if my I placed my hand on a fiery skillet. The broiled flesh ached, but this only threw me into rage and hit the priest across the room. A loud crack let me know I broke something important.

He tried to claw his way to the door. "The power of Christ compels you." He cried out. I laughed in reply. "For a man who spent years condemning innocent people to death. I doubt your Christ would help you now." I told him. He tried to scream, only to feel my boot connect sharply against his jaw. Teeth and blood sprayed across the room. With his jaw clearly broken, he could barely utter a gargled moan. As he lay helpless on the wooden floor, I proceeded to vent my rage by striking the man, from a mounted position. Each vivid memory of that day evoked another hit, each punch eased my suffering.

Before long, with raw knuckles and his skull unrecognizable. My sire placed a hand upon my shoulder. "It is finished my love." She said calmingly. I stood, free of the pain of loss. I felt now that I could move on and so I did.

I remained at my sires side, until the day that she taught me everything that she could. In that time, I came to learn not only how to master my vampiric abilities, but I gained a genuine education. I could walk the courts of Royalty and be perceived as member of the aristocracy.

I spent my time dodging witch hunts and with the rise Revolution. I left my homeland, and traveled New Orleans. There I hoped that I would be free from Revolution and War. I owned a small plantation and due to my lust for knowledge, increased my education in the occult by offering freedom in to those willing to teach me the ways of Dahomean Vodoo.