New York Vampire Coven[AUGUST 06 - RESUBMIT!]

[Staeus Von Wolfenhart]

Name: David Zorab.

Age: Last time he checked, somewhere over 1500 years old [1540 years old. Turned at 28, so appears that age.]. Then he got bored counting the years.

Type: Death-dealer.

Weapons:
Ranged:[All rounds filled with Silver-Nitrate]
Twin Beretta M9A1's:


A backup USP Diplomat [Suppressed and lasersight]:


and an MP5A2 Tactical:


Close-combat:
Cold-Steel Tactical Knife [Silver plated]:


Fists!

Appearance:
Eyes: Dark Orange-Brown.
Hair: White with Black Roots.
Skin: Pale but still somewhat life-like. Tattood on his right shoulder are the numerals "CDLXVI" which stands for the date he was born; 466 CE. On his left shoulder, a tattoo bearing the words "Nex Paciscor" to symbolize his pact as a Deathdealer.
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 164 lbs.
Build: Toned.
Clothing:
Casual: White dress jacket, black pinstripe vest, white shirt, black tie, white dress pants and white dress shoes.
Combat: Ankle-length black heavy trenchcoat, steel-toed boots, combat leggings, tight black t-shirt.
Accessories:
Casual: Silver watch, wallet and four white gold rings.
Combat: Four extra clips for the Berettas, two extra clips for the Diplomat, and four extra clips for the MP5A2. Holsters on hips for Berettas, holster on upper leg for Diplomat and arm-strap for the MP5A2.

Background story:
[I'll be re-writing this into the generations. If I can, I'll make the history seperated into posts in a thread elsewhere, then link it.]

[Thread is up, but I'm still re-writing the history. I'll post the link anyways:]
History Thread

[I'm trying to keep it short, sorry! xD]
Born in the Gallia Belgica province of the Western Roman Empire, David was raised by a moderately wealthy family, in a smaller town in the province, roughly where the Netherlands currently are. The rest of his past before the upcoming point, he cannot remember.
He was no older than 28, born during the fall of the Roman Empire, when he was turned.
The night he remembers well.

Clouded and dark, even though the moon shone brightly. An eery fog filled the land, not too heavy, but not easy to see past.
David was returning home to his wife and child-on-the-way from his post at the city border gates. His job had been an easy one lately. Quite odd for the current time, considering barbarian attacks were running far more rampant than before, and the fall of the Roman Empire left many cities and colonies ransacked and robbed.

The night was an odd one. His replacement guard was nowhere to be seen and this fog was bringing about a weird feeling.

As David walked, covering his armour and clothing in a heavy wool cloak, he felt his neck hairs tickle upwards. A sensation that did not add to the situation. He did not stop his venture down the path, he merely ignored the thought and brushed off the feeling.

It seemed as if an hour or so had passed, and he would be arriving into town soon, when the odd sensation returned. This was no coincidence anymore. For this time, he saw a dark figure masked by the night and fog nearby. Thinking quickly, he drew back his cloak and pulled his Gladius from its scabbard, and held it firmly in his hand. Never removing his eyes from the oncoming figure.
The feeling only intensified as the figure closed in.

As the clouds parted and let the moon shine, he saw the man. The horrible fangs it bore, the claws and the pointed ears. All struck a cord of fear in his heart. Without much thought as to what it was, he ran closer and stuck the gladius out in a jabbing thrust, aiming for its torso.
As if all strength vanished, he dropped the sword, and fell limp to the hard path below. The sharp pain in his flesh felt like waves of energy were being sucked from his shoulder and neck. The creature was biting him. It was draining him.
David knew that this was the rampant beast that was rumoured to have been running about in the night, killing people in groups lesser than three.
This was the Lamia. The Vampire.

He knew his fate. Death. He would have struggled, but felt too weak to react. His pain was slowly fading, as was his consciousness.
For reasons beyond his understanding, the vampire did not kill him. Instead, Malleus, the creature of the night whom he referred to as the beast, the vampire, turned him. Perhaps out of pity, or a will for survival of his species. Or because he felt like it.

After countless days of half-conciousness and semi-awareness, David finally was reborn into the night. He did not know where he was, or how he'd gotten there. He remembered the fireplace as a dominant figure in the room, and Malleus sitting ni the corner of the room, staring out the window at the night sky, full of moonlight and starlight.
David never saw his family again. They were distant memories of a past life.

For the next hundred or so years, Malleus tought the "uncivilized" David the ways of the new world. The world of the dark night.
Over time, he and Malleus watched the world develop and die off in the endless cycle. David came to view Malleus not only as a teacher, but as a brother.
Thus is why his death was a tragedy in David's eyes. To see an odd and disgusting beast thrash and tear apart his most closest friend, this untamed, wild animal. The werewolf. David was never taught about the Lycanthrope, nor any other kind of Anthromorph. So this new and unheard of animal was a shock to him.

It was the early 18th century when he watched helplessly as this beast tore his master apart, raging at every bite and every slash. David was far too frightened to think, let alone fight.
He had his Rapier, and even a dagger coated in poison. Yet he could only remain frozen with fear as the monstrosity continued to feast upon Malleus.
Without so much as a sound or notion of presence, a group of men swarmed the beast, relentlessly attacking it with swords, spears and knives, all flashing brightly in the moonlight. With the creature dead, and the band of saviours fleeing the scene, David only paused to look at the mess before also fleeing due to calls for guards. He never forgot Malleus, and he enver will. Nor will he ever forget the troupe that cae to his rescue.

The date is now in the 21st century, and David has kept up-to-date with a majority of the world. He is often seen alone in his study [room] at the local coven of New York City. Little is known as to why he came. He had no invitation, nor was he forced. He was simply there. He does not commute often with the others of his race, nor does he make the usual sexual ganders at the females. He keeps up with regular feedings, and follows the orders given by the elder vampires. Over the course of his life, David has learned much of Vampires and Werewolves, and even of Demons and the haunting Hunters. Master at almost everything he likes and enjoys, there is little that David does not know or understand.

He has not taken on a mate, vampire or human.
Often seen as a loner, sticking to places without large crowds, not very many vampires of the 16th century and younger like him at all. Considering him a party-pooper and loser.

Upon command of the coven, David follows through with his missions as a Death Dealer.