Christof Isak Vassily
Winter Howl

Silver Fangs
Bard of the Quiet War
Adren of the Lodge of the Sun
Talesinger of the Sept of the Moon Lake
Gibbous Moon of the Unbreakable Hearth

Description


Homid: ~Something feels feral about Christof Isak Vassily. The young gentleman appears to be another young turk twenty something, but with something more regal and defined. Chris favors stylish attire, though sometimes goes more casual than the bold sports suits his average build usually fills out. His semi-shaved features give him an air of roguish appeal, combined with his charming smiles and sweeping features. Chris boasts fair and unblemished skin and carefully kept brown hair, stylishly mussed. His speech sounds smooth and coached, while his pleasant expressions come infrequently. The man normally radiates a cool, even cold, exterior. But his lips can turn into a grin or grimace readily. The man's chilly brown-eyed gaze can grow swiftly with blazing fury. Then the bestial passion beating in Christof's breast pounds to the cadence of war drums: the rhythm of sorrow, courage, rancor, elation...rage.~

OOC: Appearance 3; Pure Breed 3; Animal Magnetism; Glory 6, Honor 1, Wisdom 5

Glabro: ~Did Mr. Universe just walk up? Twice the build and bulk of his natural form, Christof bulges with muscle. His hair grows a bit longer and shaggier. The chestnut-brown coloration fades to a dirty white. His eyes also shift hues, brightening to the wild yellow of a caged animal. Though he maintains his usual frigid presence, Christof's breath comes sharper. The heave of his shoulders suggests restrained anger. He just appears to be a fierce blizzard trapped in a proto-man form.~

OOC: Appearance 2; Pure Breed 3; Animal Magnetism; Glory 6, Honor 1, Wisdom 5

Crinos: ~Shooting up to a towering nine feet, Christof abandons all visage of humanity as a terrifying war-wolf. Now his golden eyes seem bloodshot with desperation and madness. His fur bleaches to a snow-white streaked with rich grays. The werewolf's paws are tipped with razor-keen and bone-white claws. His muzzle parts to reveal a maw of similar teeth. The Silver Fang lifts his nose to the sky and looses an unsettling if primevally beautiful howl. The ulation reaches up to the highest point of the night, emphasizing the predatory doom Winter Howl and his kin bring to the Enemy.~

OOC: Appearance 0; Pure Breed 3; Delirium; Glory 6, Honor 1, Wisdom 5

Hispo: ~Stalking monster, the Hispo shape of Christof Isak Vassily sings songs only of blood and hunger. This raging beast appears to be a timber wolf the size of a small horse. Brutal and voracious, Christof answers only the irrational hunger of his insatiable belly. His huge paws track and race through the wastes to bring down even the largest prey with his terrible jaws. Cruel and angry, this Hispo is a deadly combination of mankind's hatred and the wolf's instincts.~

OOC: Appearance 0; Pure Breed 3; Glory 6, Honor 1, Wisdom 5

Lupus: ~This handsome and healthy timber wolf boasts a fine coat of white and gray fur. He seems fierce and proud yet primal and simple. His golden eyes seem unhurried, but filled with unreserved and unchained animal passion. When his fine muzzle opens to breathe in the evening air, it often lifts to howl to the moon. The songs of this lupus are not angry or bitter. Instead, they are filled with an unfathomable longing for life, for beauty and serenity so rarely found in today's mad, mad world.~

OOC: Appearance 3; Pure Breed 3; Animal Magnetism; Glory 6, Honor 1, Wisdom 5

"I'm thinking of just the right song to sing for us now. A ballad, anthem...dirge?"

History


Youth

For Christof Isak Vassily, no matter what happened in his life there was always the glory and honor of his family to rely on. Even when his best efforts failed him…or his pack. But his drive for perfection wasn't always complicated with werewolf tempers. Born in 1980 to Isaac and Natalie Vassily, his folks were proud members of the Silver Fang Tribe. They lived in Juneau, Alaska, but commanded Russian heritage and blue blood wealth. Much of it derived from savvy investments in mines over a century before during the Alaskan Gold Rush. Christof's high breeding reflected in his parents. His mother was a fine Kinfolk woman. His father was Trueborn Garou, the New Moon Seneschal of the Sept of Broken Mountains.

Young Christof grew up on his family's spacious estate, which was actually located out of town. It bordered the bawn of the werewolves' protectorate. His birth was heralded by excellent auspice and timing, and it was known and marked that Christof would follow his father's paw prints as Garou. However, born under the gibbous moon, Christof was a bard. His natural talent towards music was encouraged, and he proved to be a marvelous singer. His voice would deepen in maturity to a rich tenor.

And his father also made sure Christof received a superb education. He never attended public school but instead had a private tutor. When human academics were done, his real studies began. His parents passed on the laws, culture, and history of the Garou Nation and the Silver Fang Tribe especially. Even though Christof was destined to change, he was not permitted to observe sacred werewolf rituals. All the same, his parents instilled a deep and abiding reverence for Gaia, Luna, and Falcon. He knew these spirits breathed their gifts onto the Garou on a daily basis and he was inspired to praise them with hymns and ballads.

Besides his knowledge and talent, Christof was taught how to fight. He was shown how to defend himself as a human and left to imagine how to go at it as a werewolf. His Ragabash father taught him a number of crafty and practical techniques. Even young, he demonstrated a competitive edge that made him a skilled combatant. This unbound passion also made him attractive to the fairer sex. So Christof was never at loss for a girlfriend among other Garou Kin with whom he fraternized the most.

As he grew older, his dreams became more profound. By adolescence, Christof had almost nightly visions of long-running through the snowy woods and hunting some prey, typically deer. When, in his dreams, he tasted the blood of his victim, he felt a shard of fear. He just killed! But it also felt natural…right…and he never dwelled on it for long. Unfortunately, as Christof grew closer to his likely First Change, the youth grew more prone to fits of rage. These were especially sparked anytime his shortcomings cost him anything less than complete success: whether that was a written test or a sparring match. Christof would stomp off in frustration and try to contain his urges to wig out or howl at the moon.

First Change

But Christof couldn't contain the Beast Within forever. It wasn't fury that sparked the boy's First Change, only curiosity. In the winter of 1994, the youth sneaked out after his father to the caern. There he beheld all the gathered Garou in their fearsome Crinos war-forms. Most carried spears and daggers and looked ready to make war. From his hiding place, Christof watched, avoiding notice perhaps because his scent was more werewolf than he knew…and his scent blended right in.

As the ceremony came to a climax, every Garou present lifted his muzzle up and issued a frightful, blood-curdling howl up high. They were rallying themselves for war, indeed! The roars didn't frighten Christof away but instead inspired him deep in his heart. He wanted to join that furious howl. Next thing he knew, he was howling! The uninvited voice grabbed the other werewolves' attention. A shocked Christof in a spindly young Crinos form was dragged from his hiding place before the elders. Despite his initial terror at their reaction, he was glad to see that his father was overjoyed rather than angry. He Changed at last!

Since Christof already knew most of the basics of Garou life, all that really remained was his Rite of Passage. With the elders' permission, his father was allowed to drag Christof along for this battle. Christof would have to fight and prove his mettle. If he did, he would be given the Rank of Cliath and acknowledged as True Garou. The Sept was threatened by a force of corruption and monsters: Black Spiral Dancers and their allies were amassing in the hilly vale among a company of lumberers who were defying a court order to stop their deforestation. To protect their home and the earth itself, the Garou would slaughter the monsters and frighten away the humans for good.

Of course, the fourteen year old felt uneasy and afraid. Fight other werewolves and demons of unimaginable horror? Was he really up to this task? But his father reassured Christof by telling the boy to stay close. And as the score of werewolf warriors swept down the mountainside into their enemies' encampment, their ferocity inspired Christof's morale all the more. In the vicious battle that ensued, Christof had a harrowing time, fighting more like a cornered rat than a true hero. But he witnessed and helped his share of defeating the Black Spiral Dancers and their fomori allies. Christof also aided in driving away the humans through the horror of the Delirium. After that battle was accounted and the Garou retired to the caern, Christof's father took his son aside. He was praised for his valor, and the details of his Change were covered. He learned how to transform from one aspect of the werewolf's shape to another. And he learned how to step sideways into the spirit world and to appreciate the pristine beauty of the Umbra.

Conspiring Fates

After that fantastic battle and display of Garou ferocity, the region was troubled far less than ever before. Sure, they knew that their enemies were simply rebuilding their strength to attack again in the future. But for now, they had an interlude of peace. Christof saw little action except for an occasional drunken fight with rival bards of the Fianna Tribe at the Sept.

But the Wyrm was pleased to send small troubles to the Sept of Broken Mountains. In fact, Christof suffered the brunt of one such trouble in 1998. A diabolic Bane slipped past the Sept's Umbral guardians and possessed Kinfolk briefly. It would commandeer these poor folk and turn them briefly into sadistic murdering bastards. Several children died by their own parents' hands. The clever demon managed to elude the outraged Garou by possessing and quickly dumping his victims in search of more. But the Bane's greed made its destruction inevitable.

Unfortunately, it was over lunch at home with his mother that Christof was given the chance to defeat the Bane. Her mind stolen from her by the demon, his mother attacked the young Silver Fang with a cooking knife. Refusing to fight his own mother, Christof backpedaled away, taking cuts all over. But he had to face reality. He could not confront the demon so long as it remained like a cancer in his mother's spirit. Christof fled to the bathroom to step sideways through the mirror and escape by the Umbra. Then he could summon help to possibly restrain his mother and drive the demon out. But just as he reached the mirror, his mother caught up and plunged the knife right through his back. Christof lost control and spun on her. And a claw, not a hand, swatted the woman across the face. The blow from the wolfman sent her to the floor. Instinct guided Christof's hand next and he slaughtered his own mother, razor-sharp claws ending her life instantly.

The possessing demon, its host of flesh destroyed, was banished as well. Christof was heralded as a hero. They knew now the breadth of his dedication to the war against the Wyrm. No one knew better than Christof that what he had done was horrifying. But it was called for. It was necessary. That was what he was told. Even if he had escaped and gotten help, someone else would have just had to deliver that killing blow. The demon would not have fled. Even his father, though stricken, agreed to this reality -- and it was better that it was Christof than some stranger.

Sinking into depression, Christof managed to avoid the deadly sorrow of Harano by channeling his feelings through his music. He composed new ballads and dirges in his mother's honor, singing of her compassion, wisdom, and guidance. His song praised her for the wonder she was and how she would be missed, no matter what. Christof called it "Mother Lost to Mother". His dirge was so heartfelt and hit such a chord among all Garou that it was memorialized in the Silver Record. The process to get such an honor approved, of course, took over a year. In the mean time, Christof fought his sorrow and strove to echo his parents' expectations and become the best of the best in all things. He was accorded the deed name of "Winter Howl" in honor of his masterful dirge.

Rise to Honor

The glory of having one of his compositions remembered forever by all Garou all over the world was livening, to say the least. More importantly, when the honor was approved in late 1999, it made Christof more than eligible to challenge for the next Rank in Garou society. Naturally, he turned to his father, an Adren Ragabash by that year. Christof's mother's death had hurt his father more than he realized. The man was sinking deeper into Harano. Coupled with aging concerns and some unpleasant battle scars, Isaac Vassily was no longer the werewolf trickster-warrior that he once was.

To Christof's shock, his own father requested a fight to the death as his Rank challenge. It wouldn't be an easy battle, but it was inevitable Christof would win. Isaac's ailments made him incapable of victory. But…it was his father! No, he wouldn't do this again! Christof turned away from his father and sought another Garou to challenge, but by honor he had to accept his father's challenge or persuade him to offer another. Christof tried to argue that there had to be another challenge. Isaac only told him the story and history of the Rite of the Winter Wolf.

With that tradition invoke, Christof was somewhat disarmed. His father reiterated that since he would have to die soon anyway, it would be his honor if Christof delivered the coup de grace. The two men fought under the watchful eyes of the elders. The battle was vicious but sad. Christof sustained many wounds from his clever old man. But his youth and agility, and his ferocity that grew with each fleeting injury his father inflicted, made him unstoppable. Down his father went, Christof's muzzle painted red with lifeblood.

Once more, Christof proved his zeal. And once more, the young Galliard felt heartbroken. He was given the laurels of the next Rank, Fostern. Still miserable, he once more managed to channel his sorrow through music. He wrote a ballad of honor for his father. This composition was memorialized in the Sept of Broken Mountains, though it didn't receive the same honor of the Silver Record, as the dirge for his mother did. His success also earned him the privilege and right to join a pack of Sept Guardians, the Edge of the Crown.

Edge of the Crown

Christof joined just in time to help his pack deal with a new problem. Other Garou were threatening the Sept of the Broken Mountains! A trio of three packs of Red Talons and Get of Fenris, all Lupus-bred werewolves, castigated the Sept of the Broken Mountains. They claimed that the Silver Fang-led Sept was unfit. The caern was well protected and safe, true, but that meant the Sept should do more for the region at whole. Many sources of corruption endangered the region that Christof's isolated Sept ignored. Impoverishing corporations, industrial pollutants, and cultural dissolution all threatened the land. But the Sept Elders ignored the Lupus packs, calling them upstart vagabonds seeking to create dissent in order to seize the caern for themselves.

And chances are, Christof wagered, that both sides' claims about each other were true. The Sept wasn't behaving responsibly enough and the Lupus packs just wanted the caern for themselves. A number of skirmishes began around the start of the new millennium. The Edge of the Crown clashed with one of the Red Talon packs and Christof earned his licks…and inflicted his own. But it grew obvious to the Sept Warder that the Lupus were only trying to test the caern's defenses with those probing skirmishes. Proving himself in these skirmishes earned him the title of Squire of the Sun. He was the leader of the Sept's defensive forces in the Gaia Realm, who would be called upon to resist further incursions by these Lupus packs (as well as any other foes).

By this time, Christof was ready for another promotion to the third Rank of Adren. The elders appointed his challenge personally. As Squire of the Sun, he would be given the authority to rally and lead the three Guardian packs (including his own) and a horde of spirit-warriors into battle. But the object was to dissuade the Red Talons and Fenrir, not slaughter them as if they were Black Spiral Dancers.

So Christof led his fellow Garou on a great, wild hunt through the Alaskan woods. They swept down through the mountainsides, flushing out their enemies. But the Lupus packs weren't weak by far. They turned on their rivals and fought viciously. Though strategically, Christof's plan of attack should have routed and driven the Lupus away, the blitz outraged the Lupus packs…and their fury made them stubborn enough to try and fight to the death. The battle that ensued was brutal and terrible. Many good warriors fell on both sides. In the end, the battered Lupus packs retreated from the protectorate altogether, tails between their legs. The tattered Guardian packs returned home, victorious. Christof was furious, however, that his plan did not work as he planned. Near frenzy, only the elders' acceptance of the victory as a token of his personal achievement kept from frenzy. He was given the Rank of Adren and told to rebuild the Sept defenses.

Return of the Wyrm

Unfortunately, older enemies were rebuilding their forces, too. And their preparations were complete long before Christof had the Sept of Broken Mountains ready. Out of nowhere, in 2004 the Black Spiral Dancers returned in greater numbers than ever. Hordes of fomori and voracious Banes fell upon the caern with little warning. Christof could barely ever remember how the battle went. But the caern was overrun and almost every inhabitant, defender or bystander, slain. As the defenders regrouped at the caern's mountain edge, Christof fought those hellish foes with all his heart.

As his brethren fell to their wicked claws and spells, he was knocked off the cliff. He fell hundreds of feet and only his werewolf constitution protected him from death. But he was gravely wounded. Fortunately, the Wyrmlings assumed him dead. He was able to drag his broken body away from the bawn and escape the lost caern. The Sept of Broken Mountains was dead.

Christof was eventually well enough to flee many miles north into British Columbia, to the Sept of the Unbound River. Though largely dominated by native Wendigo Garou, there was a strong presence of Children of Gaia that kept the Sept well balanced in attitude. Here Christof was healed completely and his tale heard. Despite his bardic auspice, Christof could not bring himself to dramatize the horror of the story. He was on the borderline of Harano once more, and even quietly singing the ballads and dirges of his parents and people could not stave it off entirely.

Fall from Grace

After hearing the tale of the failed defense of the Sept of Broken Mountains, most of the elders of the Sept of the Unbound River were dismayed. They felt that he lacked "real honor" by surviving the onslaught. True, he fell. But he should have picked himself back up and died valiantly, defending the caern and his fallen brethren. That was the true way of the warrior, the way of the Garou! Despite the Children of Gaia's disdain with that viewpoint, Christof could not help but agree. Filled with self-disgust, he was close to Harano-borne suicide.

But Christof would not bring his hand to do it. He would not throw himself away after the sacrifices his parents and people made to raise him. The Children of Gaia were proud but the Wendigo were not satisfied. He had to be punished somehow. He suffered the Stone of Scorn by the cold riverside for which the Sept was named. Christof was stripped of the Rank of Adren, reduced back to Fostern. Many cruel things were said of the miserable young Bard. But one of the most lasting jibes he heard was "Fall off another mountain?". Simple as it was, it stuck and spread throughout North American Septs in due time.

The Silver Fang languished in the Sept of the Unbound River for months more. He battled his bitter anguish. Christof pondered wandering awhile, virtually becoming a Ronin. Without warning, the Silver Fang left the Sept and traveled south. He passed through many lands, but encountered few of his own kind. They were only growing rarer, after all. When he entered the continental United States, he made the mistake of poaching sheep from a werewolf-run ranch.

Fortunately, the rancher was an old Child of Gaia. He subdued Christof and took him in for a while. Christof relayed his story to the old man, who felt heartsick for the tragedy-stricken Silver Fang. He directed him to go south to Kansas City. There, the rancher instructed, he would find opportunity to set for himself a new role in the Garou Nation. The Sept of the Moon Lake was a mongrel grouping of many different Tribes, and Christof would not have the pretensions of a Sept run by any one Tribe. By late 2005, Christof arrived to this prairie-established caern. Though the scenery was drastically different than what he knew, Christof found it inspiring all the same. Perhaps the passion of the Beast would soon be reborn into new glory. For Christof echoed the tale of a great hero: he fell, then rose, then fell again, and would one day rise to even higher exaltation.

Battle Scars


Class: Superficial
Description: Semi-Circle of Indentations
Location: Upper Left Arm
Origin: Bite from a Red Talon Rival
Effects: none

Class: Superficial
Description: Four Claw Gashes
Location: Across the Right Ribcage
Origin: Battle with Black Spiral Dancers
Effects: none

Significant Other


Christof met Kisa Rurik near the Moon Lake Caern in the summer of 2005. He asserted his acquaintance with the shy Kin but promptly made an ass of himself with too many vodka doubles. The compassionate (if naïve) young woman nursed him through a mild hangover. From there, Chris was hooked, and wooed the beautiful maiden to romance. Still fresh and blossoming in their passion, their future has not been pondered much yet. But Chris wouldn't mind taking things to the next step.

Kisa

Weakness
Lingering Sorrow


Christof has been on the edge of Harano for years now. The miserable Bard is too much of a perfectionist for starters. But he's also been confronted with a number of horrible choices and experiences. They shape his perspective and bring him closer to that depressive doom.

Likelihood of Corruption


Average.

Despite his dance near the precipice of sadness, Christof is too strong-willed to be easily pushed over by circumstance or purpose. After all, he's lasted this long, and in the world of the Garou one doesn't survive for this long by luck alone.

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