Rage Across Baltimore
Scully Mac Brón "Seven-Songs"
Metis Galliard Fianna, Rank 3 (Adren)
Name: Scully Mac Brón aka Seachtamhráin
Concept: Mule of Constant Sorrow
Mental: Intelligence 3 Wits 3 Resolve 3
Physical: Strength 3 Dexterity 3 Stamina 4
Social: Presence 3 Manipulation 4 Composure 3
Talents: Alertness 2, Athletics 2, Brawl 3 (Boxing), Dodge 2, Empathy 2, Expression 4 (Song), Intimidation 2, Primal-Urge 3, Streetwise 0, Subterfuge 1
Skills: Animal Ken 0, Crafts 4 (Primitive), Drive 1, Etiquette 0, Firearms 0, Leadership 0, Melee 1, Performance 4, Stealth 3, Survival 3
Knowledges: Computer 0, Enigmas 2, Investigation 0, Law 0, Linguistics 2 (Old Irish, Irish Gaelic), Medicine 2, Occult 3, Politics 2, Rituals 3
(secondary) Archery 4
Backgrounds: Allies 1, Ancestors 4, Contacts 1, Fetish 4, Kinfolk 2, Resources 1, Rites 4, Totem 4
Gifts: (1) Breath of the Wyld, Create Element, Call of the Wyld, Faerie Light, Memory Circle, Mindspeak, Resist Toxin, Sense Wyrm
(2) Brew, Burrow, Call of the Wyrm, Ceridwen’s Blood, Curse of Hatred, Dreamspeak
(3) Shell, Song of Heroes
Rites: (minor) Breath of Gaia, Prayer for the Prey
(1) Cleansing, Contrition, Talisman Dedication
(2) Accomplishment, Binding, Gathering for the Departed, Moot Rite
Renown: Glory 7 (temp 1), Honor 4 (temp 0), Wisdom 5 (temp 3)
Rage 7, Gnosis 5, Willpower 6
Health: 9 (+2 in Glabro/ +4 in Crinos / +3 in Hispo)
Size: 5 (in homid)
Speed: 11 (in homid)
Initiative: 6 (in homid)
Defense: 3 (in homid)
Perception: 6 (in homid)
Equipment: guitar (maybe a fiddle or a banjo, harmonica too?), guitar picks, finger- and thumb-picks. Dedicated martial arts gloves/cesti (gloves with open fingertips/palms, studded by hand with silver spikes for punching). Bow & arrows for shooting. Pack of clothes. Typically carries a brace of handmade Bane Arrows, (talens, Gnosis 4) and a growler of Mist o’ the Glen if it can be spared. Leech’s Tongue (fetish, level 3, Gnosis 8) hidden in a small velvet pouch, stowed safely away for rare usage.
Battle Scars: Superficial Scars, Deep Scars (bullet wounds, claw marks on chest, arms accentuated by tattoos), permanent electrical/scorch mark on chest
Metis Deformity: Brittle Claws
Scully looks to be about 30, easily the eldest of the pack (by age, if not by rank). Since most metis experience their First Change around the age of 8-10, their equivalent of puberty, and a homid Changes around 14-18, Scully’s had around 20 or so years as a functional ‘adult’ metis, compared to maybe 5 years for Willow.
Otherwise, Scully is an image from a bygone era: rugged, unshaven good looks that just might be authentic and not manufactured, well-loved (worn) blue jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and of course the hat. It’s enough to mostly conceal the tribal tattoos and the battle scars.
Irish but more swarthy than red, Scully’s dark hair becomes almost black fur in his more wolfie shapes. Although he has talons (some metis are cursed with knobby, claw-less fingers), he’s more than reluctant to use the fragile things. Given a moment’s warning, he’ll slip on a pair of padded martial-arts gloves studded with silver spikes, a handmade, custom piece of work — almost certainly not his own work, since the metis have no breed form that’s safe for handling silver. And while the Fianna’s howl can be poignant and lovely, he may charge into battle with a harrowing rebel yell.
Hailing from eastern Kentucky and the deep woods of Appalachia, Scully was born of the sort of tragedy that’s written many a Fiann Galliard’s song about illicit unions and the tainted fruit they bear. Cursed with brittle, splintering claws that broke off inside his mother and led to her death in childbirth, he barely survived his infancy. Scully’s coming of age was no better, with the typical abuse heaped upon the metis by his tribe amplified by having no surviving parent to protect him.
Scully’s home sept was the Blue Head Rock Protectorate, a wilderness caern in the mountains running along the easternmost part of Kentucky. The country Garou have their hands full battling against the clear-cut logging and coal mining that rape and defile the land, and yet the Fianna were there, along with their Kin that had wandered far from the old country. Trapped in a life of shame and sorrow, he latched onto the current of pain and hope he found in the country and bluegrass music of his people and the land he called home. Although his more vintage style didn’t make him rich or famous, the sept came to grudgingly recognize his talent, and in time he earned a place in a young pack. With the sept’s Totem, Herne the Hunter prodding them, the caern staged Wild Hunts against the commercial interests fouling the land.
It was on one of these hunts that Scully’s pack, the White Lightning, met its end in glorious battle. Although their battles and deaths were celebrated, the sept saw in Scully’s survival the persistent taint of the metis, like the pack’s own Jonah. And so, when Moira Leaps-into-Shadow called out from Baltimore to what few septs would even listen to her, the Garou of Blue Head Rock took the opportunity and sent Scully their way. Not by moon bridge just yet, but in a beat-up, rusty old relic of a pickup truck that’s even older than Scully…or perhaps Vaughan, for that matter.