Grant,
Gangrel Primogen
Image: Grant appears singularly feral, even before he became a vampire. He’s actually much shorter than people expect, standing at only 5’8”. Those that would judge him by his stature are in for a rude shock however, as Grant is more than capable of taking care of himself. A result of his frenzies has manifested with a tendency to snarl while speaking, elongated canines even when retracted, and a decidedly beast-like appearance to his facial hair and body. He tends to dress in jeans and loose-fitting shirts even in the coldest of temperatures and is never seen without his trademark brown leather duster, a tribute to his old-west days.
Background: When the call went out to the Camarilla for warriors to come help liberate Vistalki from the Sabbat, Grant was one of the first that answered. Embraced in the late 19th century in what was commonly known as “The Old West” Grant was originally a bounty hunter of no small repute. One night in 1878, Grant was tracking down rumors of an Indian that had single-handedly wiped out an entire brigade of Federal troops, just south of Albuquerque, New Mexico. After six days and nights of continuous tracking, Grant found the Indian responsible only to discover that it was in fact, an ancient Gangrel who had slaughtered the troops because they had been trespassing on his territory. Grant offered the Gangrel a chance to surrender and even when the creature revealed its true nature to the bounty hunter, he refused to back down. Impressed, the creature embraced and abandoned him in the middle of the New Mexico desert with dawn only a scant few hours away. Grant managed to survive when he happened upon, of all things, a random pool of quicksand. As he sank into the ground with the sun rising, Grant closed his eyes and fell into dreamless sleep.
Upon awakening he travelled south before coming across an Indian settlement just south of the border. The medicine man there knew of the Cainite’s nature and informed him of his new condition. Grant became incensed, believing that the medicine man was tormenting him and in a fit of rage, struck the older man, slaying him. The horror of what he’d done sent him into frenzy and when Grant came to his senses, the entire village lay decimated. Howling in rage, he fled into the night and deeper into Mexico.
For the next few years he drank the blood of whoever crossed his path, stray dogs, rats, homeless people squatting, huddled in their hovels. Until one night, he encountered another of his kind, a Gangrel antitribu named Jackal Tooth. Jackal introduced him to the rest of his pack and taught him about Cainite nature. Grant and Jackal became akin to brothers, though often times the laizze-faire attitude he and his other compatriots had towards taking human life troubled Grant. Jackal laughed claiming that since vampires were no longer mortal, they shouldn’t be held to a human’s code of ethics.
This continued on for several decades until one fateful night. The pack had just gotten done with a long and drawn out battle between themselves and another pack and were hungry and wounded. The descended upon a village of Mexican-Indians and proceeded to slaughter and drink their fill. The sight of Jackal feasting from the corpse of a nine-year old girl was too much for Grant to bear and he attacked his pack-brother, eventually impaling him with a human femur through the skull. The other members of the pack howled and converged on Grant, brutally beating and slashing him until bloodied and maimed, Grant fell down the town well and was swept away underground.
There in the dark, he slept and healed and dreamed, wondering if to be a Cainite was truly to be damned. Upon awakening he learned that nearly two decades had passed. Vowing to make amends for his ways, he emerged from the Mexican soil and proceeded to hunt down each and every one of his former packmates. It took over three years but finally the last of his pack, a Ravnos, died by his claws outside Tijuana. Exhausted and emotionally drained by the destruction one-by-one of the bonds of Vinculi, Grant slipped into torpor.
He awakened in the 1920’s to a changed world. Dazed and bewildered, Grant wandered north into Texas. The Texas oil boom was in full swing and there he discovered the Camarilla. At first he was disdainful of their tendency towards scheming and politics, but between that and the carnage of the Sabbat, it was the lesser of two evils in his mind. He rose through the ranks as a tracker and hunter, eventually becoming the Prince’s scourge (after deeming the position of Sheriff “too political.”) It was during his tenure as scourge that he learned he had a knack for leadership amongst the Gangrel. His stories about his time in Mexico (omitting the death of the Indian village by his hand after his embrace) earned him much prestige amongst his clan. Because of the close proximity of the Sabbat of Mexico to Texas, Grant was not wanting for opportunities to add to his reputation. By the end of the 1950’s Grant had personally killed more than two dozen Sabbat Kindred, his most stunning coup being single-handedly behind the destruction of a pack of Nosferatu antitribu who had been pulling “hit and fade” raids all along the Mexican border for the past two hundred years.
After Dallas had been relatively secure for a few years, Grant decided to pull up roots and move on. He passed on his title to another and headed north, through the Great Plains and into Canada where he made a modest living as a trapper and hunter. How he managed to avoid the Lupines that run rampant is anyone’s guess; Grant attributes it to “keeping a low profile.” Eventually making his way east, he swung south of Montreal and smack dab into the 1999 Battle of New York where the Camarilla, led by the archon Theo Bell, led an assault that resulted in the capture of New York City from the Sabbat. Grant’s knowledge of pack movements and Sabbat tactics, along with his experience in actually hunting the Sabbat in the most adverse of conditions resulted in his bestowing of the title of field marshal and earned him great prestige amongst his Camarilla peers, at one point even fighting beside the legendary Bell.
It was directly after this that news spread of the Camarilla’s efforts with Vistalki. Having never been out of North America, Grant took the opportunity to jump ship and sailed to Eastern Europe. There he encountered a whole new brand of evil: misshapen Szlatcha, Koldunic sorcery. This was the other face of the Sabbat and one that Grant had never seen before. Nevertheless he persevered and aided in hunting down various Sabbat Cainites in Vistalki and the surrounding wilds.
It was with the arrival of Nicholae that Grant was thrust into the spotlight. Grant had been decidedly neutral regarding the succession of the Gangrel from the Camarilla as a whole and was receptive to Nicholae’s overtures that the Gangrel be admitted in the Camarilla power structure of Vistalki. After some negotiations of territory, Grant agreed to become the Gangrel primogen. A handful of Gangrel, organized by another Gangrel, Holabane, agreed to stay on. The rest disbanded and headed to other parts. Grant nominated Holabane to become the scourge of Vistalki and Nicholae approved, thus cementing the Gangrel as a true part of the city power structure.
Unfortunately, Grant now finds himself immersed in the politics he so vehemently despises. The Brujah, led by Jacen seem Hell-bent on antagonizing the Gangrel and the Tremere primogen Clarion treats Grant with extreme prejudices (antipathy between the Tremere and the Gangrel runs deep.) Grant doesn’t deign to enter the political battle arena, an act that might cost him later on. Fortunately, the Nosferatu Primogen, Sckekto has taken a liking to him, sensing another kindred spirit and does what he can to aid Grant and his clan.
Roleplaying Hints: You are a hunter and a survivor, remember that. And though you are beast-like you must never forget that you are primarily a man and must hold yourself to those standards. To be as a beast is to surrender to it and to surrender to the Beast results in more decimated villages and slaughtered innocents. Stoic ness is a way of life and while you are forced to deal with matters on a political front, never forget that you are a warrior and thus must hold yourself to higher standards then the others who squabble and scheme, flatter and deceive.
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