Male • Human • Priest • Warlock • Bisexual
Quiet • Calculating • Stoic • Skilful • Determined • Deceitful • Withdrawn • Obsessive
A • D e c e n t • I n t o • M a d n e s s
A short twenty miles from the Romanian-Hungarian border lay a quaint little town nestled comfortably in the Pannonian Basin. The town was home to a Russian immigrant, who became infatuated with a local girl when he stopped in the town for a few months looking for work. Overcoming the scrutiny of the locals for being an outsider, the two were eventually given the blessing to marry and took up residence not far from the town’s church. Their first child came shortly after, a boy they named Grigori. Grigori was scrawny from the very start, easily bruised and easy to pick on by the local children. His face pushed into the mud more often than he’d ever admit to. It took an entire ten years before the family had their second and final child, just about when they’d given up hope of any others. Sofia. They were told she was a gift from god, a blessing onto the family, and Grigori believed it wholeheartedly. From the moment she came into the world, little more mattered than her, he was going to protect her no matter what. The bond between the two remained strong as they grew, with his firm belief that God had granted him his sister Grigori took particular interest in the church, eventually training to become a priest. Sofia was the light that proved to Grigori of god’s existence and benevolence, he wanted to preach that word to all the townsfolk, something good waited for them if they only believed.
For the most part, life was relatively normal in the small religious town. A few poor harvests were balanced out with a boon of crops the following years. While war raged south of the mountain range, the town remained untouched, though many men left their families to go fight. The town was left vulnerable, but even with the full force of their small guard house, nothing could stop the evil that descended from the mountains. It started with one or two, the occasional person picked off in the night, seemingly by wild animals. Grigori and his people prayed for salvation from the curse that had fallen upon their lands, but instead of a saviour, the murders only increased. Eventually they caught sight of the creature that plagued their town, no wild animal, at least not on the surface, instead it was what appeared to be a man. Very few lived to tell the tale of the savage drenched in blood hidden in the night, but word travels fast, panic spreads, many thought their homes a safe haven were quickly proven wrong. The creature had travelled from Romania, eating his way across the country. Worst of all, he seemed to enjoy his reckless killings, while those that tried to stop him soon found themselves being torn apart as if they were wet paper.
The survivors huddled in the church at night, seemingly the only safe haven the creature dared not approach. Little more than thirty people in total remained, no one was spared. For days the creature mocked the frightened townsfolk, though growing hungry with his lack of prey the creature seemed to finally move on, their prayers had worked, finally, their god had answered and saved them from such an unholy creature. Cautiously things returned to normal over the following week, the dead were buried, the remaining survivors tried to build their lives back up from the plague that had descended upon the town. The people had got their hopes up too soon. Grigori heard the scream at first, immediately rushing to a familiar voice he’d heard throughout his life. Surely not, he thought, not Sofia. Bloody red eyes met him as he flung the doors to the church open, seeing the creature they thought was gone sink his fangs into his poor sister’s throat. Her blood streaming down the creature’s chin, he wasn’t doing this to feed, he was doing it to send a message to the priest. Before Grigori could even reach the creature in an attempt to fight him, knowing it would be a losing battle regardless, he dropped the still writhing body of Sofia, his body bursting into a swarm of bats scattering into the night. Never to be seen again.
Grigori fell to his knees, clutching his sister, desperately trying to stem the bleeding from her throat, but it was too late, the monster had almost drained her, her breaths grew quicker and shallow and within minutes her body fell limp. The one source of light in his world had been taken from him, his beloved sister, his gift from god, snuffed out in a single night by a monster in the shape of a man. Hollow and empty, Grigori was sure to bury his sister near their parents, life seemed meaningless. His entire world was shattered, god didn’t love him, or any of the townsfolk, nothing was done despite their desperate prayers to free them of the creature tormenting them. The night plagued Grigori with frantic dreams, dark rituals and symbols he’d never seen before. A vision perhaps? Whispers of ways to bring back his sister, though it would not be through his former god. These dreams only grew more intense each night, the thoughts not giving him peace during the daylight. There must be another way. Grigori dove into his research, finding rituals of necromancy, for those without natural-born power, they could use blood. A small sacrifice, it seemed, to return his sister to him.
Preparations completed, in the dead of night Grigori headed to his sister’s grave, intending to dig it up and try to draw her soul back into her body. There was a problem, however, the grave lay freshly dug, an empty coffin sat at the base of the hole without a body in sight. The body had been stolen, the thieves long gone. In a rage, Grigori threw his ingredients to the ground and howled out in frustration and anguish. Every step forward brought two steps back. What god would punish such a devout follower so? After another night being plagued by dreams, Grigori dove back into research. A soul could be found, even brought back, but it would require much, much more power. So began his many lifelong attempts to gain such power, with each attempt another hurdle showed up, but never was the new warlock deterred. Becoming old and gray, Grigori was forced to drain the life of others to give himself more time, in his eyes, a small price to pay.
P r e s e n t • D a y
R e s i d e n c e
Grigori has grown more comfortable among the dead, they don't ask questions. Deep within the Catacombs of Paris, the warlock has set up a comfortable living space within the vast network of tunnels. Hidden from tourists and trespassers, close to more bodies than he could ever wish to experiment upon.
S p e l l s
All spells require blood to cast, whether that's Grigori's own blood or the blood of those around him, it matters not.
- Mist - A cloud of red mist forms, blocking the caster from sight.
- Ignite - A small flame forms on the palm of the caster's hand.
- Levitate - Can cause bodies or objects to float in air, will only last so long as the caster concentrates on the target
- Suffer - A wave of burning pain is inflicted upon a target. The stronger the pain, the more energy it will consume from the caster.
- Persuasion - The caster can convince even those with a strong mind to do whatever he asks, no matter how detrimental to the target's own wellbeing.
- Blade circle - The caster surrounds themselves with a circle of levitating blades which can be forced outward to impale nearby foes, or focused on a single target.
- Raise dead - Nearby deceased bodies reanimate, to have control over them, it will take considerably more of the caster's energy.
- Summon familiar - Draw a small to medium animal's spirit out into the mortal plane to serve the caster temporarily.
- Summon demon - A ritual, seldom used as demons are unpredictable and can often overtake the bodies of the casters that summon them.
- Life drain - The most deadly of spells, the caster draws the very life force from one victim and forces it into their own being.
L i t t l e • t h i n g s
- Grigori despises most vampires.
- Blood does not need to be flowing to be used as fuel for his magic, though it will cause it to burst out of the source, typically much more painfully than simply slicing a palm.
- Grigori doesn’t lack empathy entirely, but he is fairly numb to most situations.
- The rejuvenation ritual is now a yearly occurrence. It removes the scars from frequent blood-letting.
- While Grigori does have a soul, it belongs to the demon that has been haunting his dreams.
- A permanent scar remains on the centre of his chest - a sigil of ownership.
- The warlock can withstand a high amount of pain with a straight face.