Character History

Brayden grew up in a typical fashion. Broken home, his step-father was an alcoholic who just loved nothing better than to verbally assault him and his mother. His step-father always had a special hateful place for his mother due to the fact Brayden was conceived while he was out of town driving his big rig. This was a day in and day out occurrence in the household for a great deal of Brayden’s adolescence no one really having any idea of what the boy’s true lineage was.

It happened out of nowhere, as these things do. Maybe if those folks were kinfolk it would have been different. There was the verbal assault and then everything was red, shapes.. Muffled voices and screams. There was growling, snarling and mostly there was rage, pure vibrant and clear rage. It enveloped the pre teen Brayden in an avalanche of scents, feelings and instincts he never knew existed nor did he have time to think as the rage took control.

When it subsided he was laying in the woods outside the city. Naked and alone, waking from the red tinged nightmare he thought was a dream. The taste of blood in his mouth told him that the dream was real. He vomited, choked a cry, just a boy in the forest. It wasn’t long until a wolf appeared through some trees. He watched in silent awe and horror as it changed shape. Her name was Gretchen Thomas, a finder of cubs she said. She clothed him and took him to be with his kind. The Garou

The years flew by for Brayden, this new world. A world of visceral real horror and terrible monsters. He earned his stripes as they say, facing threats, saving face and doing his tribe proud. Bone Gnawers, he was one of them. Gretchen was one of them so it only seemed right to Brayden. He still stayed in New York. It was his home after all.

He took to hanging in the slums when he wasn’t called to handle business. Strengthening his connection to the people there, his people. He helped the downtrodden, the homeless and the destitute. Protecting them from whatever dared to prey on them. He made bonds with the local clinics, the shelters, women’s shelters in particular it helped ease his guilt for killing his mother in the throes of his first change. His kinfolk were looked after and through the help of contacts and allies he was able to form a small wreck and gym that got funds through the city. He left that to be run by the Kinfolk and he took to underground fighting to hone skills and to make a bit of money. Overtime he took that circuit and now places himself as a talent scout if you will. Someone who goes and finds fighters of reasonable merit to grace the makeshift arenas. He himself never fights the mortals, nah too easy. Garou are invited to fight one another but never with weapons, tooth, claw or other.

He advanced slowly among the Garou until the right circumstances allowed him to reach Fostern. He took the guardpost at the caern seriously. I mean how many Doxs get asked to do that? And a Bone Gnawer at that? He was more than happy to prove the Bone Gnawers had a place at the caern. He thought the discovery of the bane arrows would be a solidifying factor and those he gave over to the elders and through his trials in battle, namely almost being killed on a mission he thought then that the rest of the tribes might see his tribe as something more than mongrels. Of course he would be mistaken.

The fall of the Sept was a blur to him. The actions of those around him, the Alpha of Bad Company trying to reason with the Sept Elder and his words falling on deaf ears. Brayden did as he was told. Gather kinfolk get them to safety and tend to the defense of the caern. But all for naught as it seems. He then followed those that survived back to the city. He now pledges to the Sept of a Fightin Chance. A place that suits him well. Though he survived the horrors of that event it had scarred him in a way that his composure demanded a degree of control and order that was not what one would deem healthy. Everything has a place in it’s place had a new and darker meaning.

His introduction “I am Brayden Kane, Fostern, known to Gaia as Wicked Left Hook, Born on two legs under the waning half face of Luna. Finder of lost things and truth catcher to the Bone Gnawers”

Appearance:

Stands 6’ even and has that runner’s body, Honey brown hair kept short and hidden under a ballcap. Steely blue eyes and often dressed in the urban wear of the day.. Always off brand and a bit older than it should be.