Henry Wescote
Type: Possessed
House: Slayer
Faction: Reconciler
Malpraxes: Wrath and Fire, Wrath and Vengeance, Gluttony and Flesh, Lust and Family
Possessed:: 1906
Apparent Age: 23
Virtue: Faith Our wills are our own, but everything else is in the hands of God.
Vice: Envy Henry tries to avoid it, but buried deep inside him is a kind of resentment for just how wretchedly his life has turned out.
Background: When Henry was growing up in the last days of the 19th century, the local farmers talked about the ‘Wescote Curse’, about how the Wescotes had sold the soul of one of their firstborn sons for continued power and wealth. Certainly there was something to this story, if judging by how the family seemed to spawn a black sheep every generation. Henry’s uncle had ended his days in a debtor’s prison, dragging the family name through the mud with his infamous debauchery. Henry’s grandfather had been discreet at home, but had served in suppression of the Sepoy Mutiny, and every so often stories of his brutality reached back to Wescote Manor. And of Henry’s great-grandfather, the least said the better, save that his fortunate death by arsenic saved the family from ruin. Yet none of these people had started bad. Henry’s uncle had been a respected barrister, his grandfather a war hero in the Crimean War… and Henry had been close to both of them.
Growing up, Henry had borne the brunt of suspicion and anxiety from his family. He was the firstborn son of Sir John Wescote, and more to the point, he was the only son, though the Wescotes had four older daughters, from Abigail, the eldest, on down to Emily, just a year older than Henry. Sir John angrily dismissed the Wescote Curse as silly superstition, but not all were so easily persuaded.
Other people, under the same weight of expectations, might have twisted or grown resentful, but this simply wasn’t Henry’s way. He was a sweet, good-natured young man, and if he was a little resentful, anything more was simply not in his character. Instead, he resolved to prove the curse wrong. At first he’d turned to religion for solace, a way to get some privacy in a house with four overprotective sisters everywhere. But then he began to realize that he actually simply liked his Church for what it was. It was a way to frame the larger questions of his life (who am I? what is my purpose?) at the same time as it allowed him to get out of the house, meet people, and do some good deeds. Perhaps he could even rehabilitate his family’s reputation.
Henry made plans to study at a local seminary after a period at the university, with an eye towards becoming a village vicar of some sort. Then, on his 23rd birthday, when Henry had returned home from his studies to help on the family estates, the Wescote Curse struck. And Henry learned that it was no silly superstition at all.
First he began to see things. Dark spots on the walls, with the faces of the dead emblazoned upon them. The marks of sulfur and ash upon the townsfolk, or a greasy patina upon the altar at church. Then he began to feel oddly, hungers and desires that were not his own, that he had never felt before, strange and unholy lusts. And then came the voice. Henry wished it merely screamed and ranted, though the Voice did this as well, hurling vile imprecations at all that Henry held dear. But this he could stand. Worse was when it spoke softly, suggesting to Henry the advantages it could offer, or ruminating upon the fatal flaws of those he loved. Look at his sister, Emily, did she not love him? Perhaps a little too much…? Did her eyes not linger on his body…?
Under the pressure, Henry began to crack. He never listened to the Voice, but he grew distant, quiet and dark. Hopelessness and despair grew in the young man’s life, and he withdrew into himself. He made the mistake of talking a little too freely about the Voice, however. And so about a year later, in 1907, his father had him committed to the local Moorgate Asylum, until his bout of ‘schizophrenia’ was over.
For years, Henry stayed there, neglected and abandoned in the darkness with only the Voice for company. It spoke to him constantly, and in a curious way it kept Henry sane. He knew he wasn’t so twisted as to suggest the things the Voice did, and therefore, he was not schizophrenic. That there were holes in this logic also occurred to him. But he learned more about the Voice, more about the strange spirit that had infested his family since the days of the Jacobite Rebellions, and he learned that what it wanted. Above all else, Henry, as the sole son, must propagate the line, and then conduct the strange, elaborate ritual that came to him in his dreams, the funeral mass for his own self, the sacrifice of blood, the devouring of the still-beating heart. Then, the Voice told him, he would be free.
This state of affairs continued until 1915, when Henry’s time in the asylum was over. It was Emily who rescued him, sweet, protective, older Emily, who grew older no more, but with sanguine strength wrenched the bars from his windows and drew Henry out. They fled to London, away from family and Curse alike, the three of them. Emily, Henry, and the Voice.
When Henry learned just what Emily had done to save him, how she had found the aged monster that had Embraced her into the night, Henry was engulfed with guilt. And yet, in some way, the guilt freed him from his depression. He gained determination, to defy this creature that had forced Emily’s sacrifice, and fell to it with a will.
Over the following decades, Henry has slowly, often painfully, learned the extent of the curse upon him. He learned, first, with a stolen razor blade and a moment of utmost despair, that he could not die. Until he gave in to the Voice’s will, until he sired a son and carried out that black ritual that it requested of him, it was powerful enough to deny even Death. He learned, in a frightening moment with a far too beautiful girl, that the Voice could control him if it so wished, though that with will and faith he could resist it. He learned, in a single moment of soul-screaming agony, that he couldn't set foot on consecrated ground. He learned, through a thousand nights of soft whispers, that the Wescote Curse offered him powers, the strength to rend and tear and kill, and that he could tap into a portion of that diabolic strength if he chose. And he learned that Henry had what his ancestors didn’t – a powerful enough will to deny the Voice what it wanted. Henry embraced religion yet more firmly, even as his orthodoxy drifted further from anything that could be considered ‘proper’.
As Emily was drawn more heavily into the bloody witchcraft that she practiced, Henry slowly entered into Kindred society as well. Though hardly a vampire, he was an immortal and he was most certainly one of the Damned. The Lancea et Sanctum was as suitable a place as any for him, and he serves there to this day, as a Confessor. The fact that Henry is apparently possessed by some demonic entity has caused trouble, but after the first three or four attempts to murder him proved unsuccessful, the Sanctified let him into their covenant. They could take a Divine hint as well anyone else.
Presently, Henry lives with his undead sister in a comfortable house out in Ealing. The curse has left him isolated and ascetic, which has slowed his adaptation to the modern world. He still holds a sense of wonder at all the sights and sounds of the city, but also holds a deep seated bashfulness, due to lack of dealing with people. Due to a minor speech impediment, a stammer he never quite got over, he always seems a little nervous. This and his youthful face tends to make him look vulnerable, which in turn tends to attract people trying to help him out. Henry does his best to be grateful, but he finds it a bit embarrassing. He is aware of this, and makes a definite effort to be a friendly and easygoing person, happy to talk or to listen. He can, however, become very withdrawn when dealing with others, often due to unfortunate whisperings in his mind.
He is very interested in learning new things; his grandfather and some of the returning missionaries he met gave him a taste for exploring the world, leaving him rather open to exciting new ideas he encounters. He is a true aficionado or learning, on any culture, religion, or subject, but his real passion tends towards Christian (or Longinian) scripture. A compassionate soul, Henry believes strongly in the Christian doctrine of aiding others, even those lost souls and sinners who have fallen into evil. The Calvinist belief in predestination has also become more important to him after his curse has hit him full force. Although he believes your choices are your own, he believes the results are in the hands of the divine, and is very fatalistic. Though he is not a judgmental or extreme kind of person, there is a touch of fanaticism in him that can cause discomfort. Henry still tends to mention religion or God in daily conversation, having not quite adapted to the times. The fact that God is all that gives him hope strengthens this.
His curse does not weigh lightly on him. The whispering is light in his mind, but it never stops. The Voice is always in his mind, always suggesting ill-motives and sickening secrets about those around him. In Kindred society, it has often proven sickeningly right. The Voice constantly tries to wrest control, pressing Henry to lash out in a bloody rampage, or engage in carnal acts to sire a son. For this reason, Henry becomes nervous around women - unfortunately, they tend to find him boyishly attractive. Vampires offer him some measure of relief: even if he caves in to their advances (and many of them refuse to hear "no"), the dead do not have children. And if he snaps and kills one... well, it hasn't happened yet. The ennui and jadedness of the Kindred takes its own toll, however. Henry has fantasized more than once about running away from everything, but the sheer guilt he feels over Emily’s Embrace ensures that he never will.
The relationship of the two siblings is… complicated. Emily considers it her duty in life to protect Henry and to keep him safe and sane, which Henry appreciates but wishes she’d stop. Henry find the whole thing both stifling and embarrassing, but he can hardly refuse after what she gave up for him. As such, he tends to loosen up when he's not around his sister, and the presence of his sister tends to make him more withdrawn. The two of them also fight regularly over their respective humanity or inhumanity, with Henry wishing that Emily would feed off him so as not to risk hurting others, and Emily resisting out of finding feeding off her brother to be simply creepy. At the same time, the two love each other dearly, and woe betide the one who threatens either of them.
Henry’s relationship with the Voice is more straightforward: he resists it at every opportunity. Even after so many years, the Voice keeps tapping away at the glass of Henry’s will, throwing it’s full infernal weight onto it at key moments. So long as Henry remains moral and true, he can resist the Voice with ease. Should he ever stop…
Tall and sinewy, Henry is clearly no stranger to work. He's tall at five feet and eleven inches, his height is tempered by a willowy frame, aristocratic cheekbones and long, elegant fingers. Henry isn't terribly muscular, but his demonically-empowered body is much more powerful than looks may indicate. He seems almost painfully aware of his strength, moving with a distinct caution to avoid breaking or bumping into anything. Henry is fresh-faced and sometimes a bit wide-eyed, and tends to have a hint of sheepishness that colors his actions. A good country boy, he acts with the best aristocratic manners as he can manage, which sometimes makes him look a bit stiff and uncomfortable. Henry favors pragmatic English wool clothing. He wears a long-sleeved collared shirts, usually preferring white or light, neutral colors, and dark pants, usually favoring brown or grey.
In his demonic form, Henry looks like something out of H. R. Giger’s nightmares, a huge, maned, ten-foot-tall gargoylean beast, dripping with a toxic black ichor and simmering with infernal heat.
Type: Possessed
House: Slayer
Faction: Reconciler
Malpraxes: Wrath and Fire, Wrath and Vengeance, Gluttony and Flesh, Lust and Family
Possessed:: 1906
Apparent Age: 23
Virtue: Faith Our wills are our own, but everything else is in the hands of God.
Vice: Envy Henry tries to avoid it, but buried deep inside him is a kind of resentment for just how wretchedly his life has turned out.
Background: When Henry was growing up in the last days of the 19th century, the local farmers talked about the ‘Wescote Curse’, about how the Wescotes had sold the soul of one of their firstborn sons for continued power and wealth. Certainly there was something to this story, if judging by how the family seemed to spawn a black sheep every generation. Henry’s uncle had ended his days in a debtor’s prison, dragging the family name through the mud with his infamous debauchery. Henry’s grandfather had been discreet at home, but had served in suppression of the Sepoy Mutiny, and every so often stories of his brutality reached back to Wescote Manor. And of Henry’s great-grandfather, the least said the better, save that his fortunate death by arsenic saved the family from ruin. Yet none of these people had started bad. Henry’s uncle had been a respected barrister, his grandfather a war hero in the Crimean War… and Henry had been close to both of them.
Growing up, Henry had borne the brunt of suspicion and anxiety from his family. He was the firstborn son of Sir John Wescote, and more to the point, he was the only son, though the Wescotes had four older daughters, from Abigail, the eldest, on down to Emily, just a year older than Henry. Sir John angrily dismissed the Wescote Curse as silly superstition, but not all were so easily persuaded.
Other people, under the same weight of expectations, might have twisted or grown resentful, but this simply wasn’t Henry’s way. He was a sweet, good-natured young man, and if he was a little resentful, anything more was simply not in his character. Instead, he resolved to prove the curse wrong. At first he’d turned to religion for solace, a way to get some privacy in a house with four overprotective sisters everywhere. But then he began to realize that he actually simply liked his Church for what it was. It was a way to frame the larger questions of his life (who am I? what is my purpose?) at the same time as it allowed him to get out of the house, meet people, and do some good deeds. Perhaps he could even rehabilitate his family’s reputation.
Henry made plans to study at a local seminary after a period at the university, with an eye towards becoming a village vicar of some sort. Then, on his 23rd birthday, when Henry had returned home from his studies to help on the family estates, the Wescote Curse struck. And Henry learned that it was no silly superstition at all.
First he began to see things. Dark spots on the walls, with the faces of the dead emblazoned upon them. The marks of sulfur and ash upon the townsfolk, or a greasy patina upon the altar at church. Then he began to feel oddly, hungers and desires that were not his own, that he had never felt before, strange and unholy lusts. And then came the voice. Henry wished it merely screamed and ranted, though the Voice did this as well, hurling vile imprecations at all that Henry held dear. But this he could stand. Worse was when it spoke softly, suggesting to Henry the advantages it could offer, or ruminating upon the fatal flaws of those he loved. Look at his sister, Emily, did she not love him? Perhaps a little too much…? Did her eyes not linger on his body…?
Under the pressure, Henry began to crack. He never listened to the Voice, but he grew distant, quiet and dark. Hopelessness and despair grew in the young man’s life, and he withdrew into himself. He made the mistake of talking a little too freely about the Voice, however. And so about a year later, in 1907, his father had him committed to the local Moorgate Asylum, until his bout of ‘schizophrenia’ was over.
For years, Henry stayed there, neglected and abandoned in the darkness with only the Voice for company. It spoke to him constantly, and in a curious way it kept Henry sane. He knew he wasn’t so twisted as to suggest the things the Voice did, and therefore, he was not schizophrenic. That there were holes in this logic also occurred to him. But he learned more about the Voice, more about the strange spirit that had infested his family since the days of the Jacobite Rebellions, and he learned that what it wanted. Above all else, Henry, as the sole son, must propagate the line, and then conduct the strange, elaborate ritual that came to him in his dreams, the funeral mass for his own self, the sacrifice of blood, the devouring of the still-beating heart. Then, the Voice told him, he would be free.
This state of affairs continued until 1915, when Henry’s time in the asylum was over. It was Emily who rescued him, sweet, protective, older Emily, who grew older no more, but with sanguine strength wrenched the bars from his windows and drew Henry out. They fled to London, away from family and Curse alike, the three of them. Emily, Henry, and the Voice.
When Henry learned just what Emily had done to save him, how she had found the aged monster that had Embraced her into the night, Henry was engulfed with guilt. And yet, in some way, the guilt freed him from his depression. He gained determination, to defy this creature that had forced Emily’s sacrifice, and fell to it with a will.
Over the following decades, Henry has slowly, often painfully, learned the extent of the curse upon him. He learned, first, with a stolen razor blade and a moment of utmost despair, that he could not die. Until he gave in to the Voice’s will, until he sired a son and carried out that black ritual that it requested of him, it was powerful enough to deny even Death. He learned, in a frightening moment with a far too beautiful girl, that the Voice could control him if it so wished, though that with will and faith he could resist it. He learned, in a single moment of soul-screaming agony, that he couldn't set foot on consecrated ground. He learned, through a thousand nights of soft whispers, that the Wescote Curse offered him powers, the strength to rend and tear and kill, and that he could tap into a portion of that diabolic strength if he chose. And he learned that Henry had what his ancestors didn’t – a powerful enough will to deny the Voice what it wanted. Henry embraced religion yet more firmly, even as his orthodoxy drifted further from anything that could be considered ‘proper’.
As Emily was drawn more heavily into the bloody witchcraft that she practiced, Henry slowly entered into Kindred society as well. Though hardly a vampire, he was an immortal and he was most certainly one of the Damned. The Lancea et Sanctum was as suitable a place as any for him, and he serves there to this day, as a Confessor. The fact that Henry is apparently possessed by some demonic entity has caused trouble, but after the first three or four attempts to murder him proved unsuccessful, the Sanctified let him into their covenant. They could take a Divine hint as well anyone else.
Presently, Henry lives with his undead sister in a comfortable house out in Ealing. The curse has left him isolated and ascetic, which has slowed his adaptation to the modern world. He still holds a sense of wonder at all the sights and sounds of the city, but also holds a deep seated bashfulness, due to lack of dealing with people. Due to a minor speech impediment, a stammer he never quite got over, he always seems a little nervous. This and his youthful face tends to make him look vulnerable, which in turn tends to attract people trying to help him out. Henry does his best to be grateful, but he finds it a bit embarrassing. He is aware of this, and makes a definite effort to be a friendly and easygoing person, happy to talk or to listen. He can, however, become very withdrawn when dealing with others, often due to unfortunate whisperings in his mind.
He is very interested in learning new things; his grandfather and some of the returning missionaries he met gave him a taste for exploring the world, leaving him rather open to exciting new ideas he encounters. He is a true aficionado or learning, on any culture, religion, or subject, but his real passion tends towards Christian (or Longinian) scripture. A compassionate soul, Henry believes strongly in the Christian doctrine of aiding others, even those lost souls and sinners who have fallen into evil. The Calvinist belief in predestination has also become more important to him after his curse has hit him full force. Although he believes your choices are your own, he believes the results are in the hands of the divine, and is very fatalistic. Though he is not a judgmental or extreme kind of person, there is a touch of fanaticism in him that can cause discomfort. Henry still tends to mention religion or God in daily conversation, having not quite adapted to the times. The fact that God is all that gives him hope strengthens this.
His curse does not weigh lightly on him. The whispering is light in his mind, but it never stops. The Voice is always in his mind, always suggesting ill-motives and sickening secrets about those around him. In Kindred society, it has often proven sickeningly right. The Voice constantly tries to wrest control, pressing Henry to lash out in a bloody rampage, or engage in carnal acts to sire a son. For this reason, Henry becomes nervous around women - unfortunately, they tend to find him boyishly attractive. Vampires offer him some measure of relief: even if he caves in to their advances (and many of them refuse to hear "no"), the dead do not have children. And if he snaps and kills one... well, it hasn't happened yet. The ennui and jadedness of the Kindred takes its own toll, however. Henry has fantasized more than once about running away from everything, but the sheer guilt he feels over Emily’s Embrace ensures that he never will.
The relationship of the two siblings is… complicated. Emily considers it her duty in life to protect Henry and to keep him safe and sane, which Henry appreciates but wishes she’d stop. Henry find the whole thing both stifling and embarrassing, but he can hardly refuse after what she gave up for him. As such, he tends to loosen up when he's not around his sister, and the presence of his sister tends to make him more withdrawn. The two of them also fight regularly over their respective humanity or inhumanity, with Henry wishing that Emily would feed off him so as not to risk hurting others, and Emily resisting out of finding feeding off her brother to be simply creepy. At the same time, the two love each other dearly, and woe betide the one who threatens either of them.
Henry’s relationship with the Voice is more straightforward: he resists it at every opportunity. Even after so many years, the Voice keeps tapping away at the glass of Henry’s will, throwing it’s full infernal weight onto it at key moments. So long as Henry remains moral and true, he can resist the Voice with ease. Should he ever stop…
Tall and sinewy, Henry is clearly no stranger to work. He's tall at five feet and eleven inches, his height is tempered by a willowy frame, aristocratic cheekbones and long, elegant fingers. Henry isn't terribly muscular, but his demonically-empowered body is much more powerful than looks may indicate. He seems almost painfully aware of his strength, moving with a distinct caution to avoid breaking or bumping into anything. Henry is fresh-faced and sometimes a bit wide-eyed, and tends to have a hint of sheepishness that colors his actions. A good country boy, he acts with the best aristocratic manners as he can manage, which sometimes makes him look a bit stiff and uncomfortable. Henry favors pragmatic English wool clothing. He wears a long-sleeved collared shirts, usually preferring white or light, neutral colors, and dark pants, usually favoring brown or grey.
In his demonic form, Henry looks like something out of H. R. Giger’s nightmares, a huge, maned, ten-foot-tall gargoylean beast, dripping with a toxic black ichor and simmering with infernal heat.
Type: Possessed
House: Slayer
Faction: Reconciler
PMental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 2, Resolve 5
TPhysical Attributes: Strength 4 (5/6), Dexterity 3, Stamina 4
SSocial Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 2, Composure 4
SMental Skills: Academics (Theology) 4, Crafts 1, Investigation 2, Medicine 2, Occult (Demonology) 3, Science 2
PPhysical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl (Claws) 4, Stealth 3, Survival (Earthquake) 4
TSocial Skills: Animal Ken 1, Empathy (Offer Comfort) 4, Expression 2, Intimidation 1, Persuasion 3, Socialize 3, Subterfuge 1
Merits: Eminence 5, Fast Reflexes 1, Languages (Latin; Native is English) 1, Luxury 2, Meditative Mind 1, Status (Lancea et Sanctum; Honorary Damned) 3, Well-Traveled 1
Lair: Wescote House; Size 4, Security 3, Library (Botany, Witchcraft, Theology, Demonology) 4, Ritual Area (Crúac) 3, Workshop (Gardening) 1
Willpower: 9
Torment: 2
Initiative: 8
Defense: 2
Size: 5 (6/7)
Health: 9
Speed: 12
Paragon: 4
Awarenesses: Death
Apocalyptic Form (Regular):Purgatory's Failure,
In Hell, it’s said that the genuinely lustful will be made to walk through a tunnel of fire with flames that scour the sin clean from the vile fool’s soul. The demon has little interest, however, in ridding the character of sin, and so it offers this Vestment: the character is immune to damage from fire. Fire can still be distracting (it is awfully hot), and the character suffers a penalty equal to the intensity of the flame if she’s immersed in the fire. But she takes no damage at all. Combustible items still catch fire, including hair. Night Sight,
See in any darkness as if it were daylight. Relentless,
+5 dice when resisting fatigue, illness, poison, drugs, drowning or going unconscious. Howls of the Damned
Eerie sounds emanate around the Slayer. 2 automatic successes on Intimidation rolls (this does not include Evocations).
Apocalyptic Form (Torment):Juggernaught (Vestment),
Spend 1 WP, lasts for 4 turns
Stoked with hatred and fueled by cruelty, Wrath takes on a life of its own, becoming implacable. Rage begins to feed upon itself, creating an unstoppable force that sneers at injury, slowed only by death. While this Vestment is active, the skin of the Possessed is covered in scales the gray-white color of smoldering ashes. Upon activating the Vestment, the Possessed chooses one type of damage (bashing, lethal or aggravated) and becomes immune to that type of damage for the scene. Additionally, the host never suffers from wound penalties. Holy or blessed weapons ignore the damage restriction and inflict wounds normally. Rollover damage is exempt as well; if a character is immune to lethal damage but takes enough bashing damage that lethal damage begins to roll over, he would take that lethal damage normally. Being immune to blades doesn’t prevent one from being beaten to death.Burning Wrath (Vestment),
Spend 1 WP, lasts for 4 turns
Rage burns hot. It manifests as a glint of anger in the eyes, a rough edge to the voice and the drumbeat of blood pounding in the ears. Given fuel to burn, rage can overflow the body in acts of violence or sharp words spoken that can never be rescinded. Wrathful Possessed revel in their rage and in the rage of the beast dwelling in their souls. The demonic rage of a host spills over into the tools they use to communicate their anger, heating them with a hellish glow. While this Vestment is active, any weapon (or the knuckles of the host, if unarmed) wielded by the Possessed turns red-hot and smoking. In the case of firearms, bullets erupt into flame as they leave the barrel, leaving trails of smoldering sparks in their wake. Successful attacks deal an automatic 2 points of lethal damage in addition to roll results. The clothing and equipment of opponents that take more than 5 points of damage in any turn begin to smolder and burn. Characters can beat out the blossoming flames with a successful Wits + Dexterity roll. If the roll is failed, the flames are considered torch-sized for purposes of damage (see the World of Darkness Rulebook, p. 180).Increased Size,
Each time the Form is manifested, choose either:
Size +1 & Strength +1 (Not italicized)
Size +2 & Strength +2 & Defense -1. (Italicized)Claws and Fangs
Vicious looking claws & fangs. Biting first requires grappling the target. Strength + Brawl + 2. Lethal.
Lores: Death ●●●●●, Flame ●●●●●, Humanity ●
Faith: 13/4
Attacks...........................Damage...........Dice Pool...............Special
Talons……............................2(L)+2..............11/13+2.............Two Automatic Fire damage.
Decay..................................5(L)...................11.....................Requi res Touch Attack, vs. Stamina+Supernatural Tolerance
Extinguish Life......................5(A)...................12/14................Requires Touch Attack, vs. Stamina+Supernatural Tolerance
