Avery Faulkner

[Faulkner]

[Faulkner]

Name: [/b]Avery Faulkner
Nicknames: [/b]Not recommended. Simply Faulkner.
Meaning: [/b]“Avery,” meaning counselor; “Faulkner” is a variant of falconer.

Age: [/b]62 (appears ~40)
Height:[/b] 6’2”
Weight: [/b]~200lbs
Species: [/b]Werewolf
Subtype: [/b]Warlock

Sexuality: [/b]Obscure
Occupation: [/b]Occult Goods Dealer, Warlock-for-Hire
Residence: [/b]Boston, MA


Appearance: [/b]Tall, broad, and barrel-chested. Faulkner presents with the rugged look of a man who is used to being crossed – and used to coming out on top of the ensuing fistfight. A near-permanent scowl mars his otherwise unremarkable features, and it seems fitting on his aged and lined face, at home amongst his wiry russet beard and greying sideburns. Humorless green eyes often match his dour expression, his demeanor reading as world-weary and jaded.

Faulkner can most often be found in a heavy and high-collared trench coat, worn and tattered fisherman’s caps, and any assortment of comfortable and practical clothing. He appears remarkably normal; aside from his size, he is easily forgotten as mundane, and his nature as a man of few words enhances his ability to simply disappear.


Personality: Faulkner is curt, businesslike, and blunt, with an underlying rough edge that often colors both his words and social interactions. He has a brusque way of speaking that makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you, thanks, and can shut down conversations with little more than a grunt or a stare. Societal expectations regarding the illusion of friendliness are concepts that appear to have eluded him, and for the large part, Faulkner is fine with appearing the part of the brooding, dangerous stranger. It keeps enough of the rabble away – and if there is anything the man enjoys, it is solitude.

Encounters that require him to be more than silent muscle find Faulkner closed-off and distant (though he possesses a certain penchant for beer that invariably leads to philosophical debate and tasteless jokes). A selfish and power-hungry nature has honed natural instincts for self-preservation to a skill; others are tools to be used, rarely allowed close, and gauged solely on the potential advantages they provide. Ruined lives left in his wake are none of his concern.

Faulkner’s stoic and seemingly pervasive composure is undermined by a short fuse of a temper, though even this seems entirely within his control – his outbursts of rage are cold and calculated.

With a dash of either charisma or vision the man would be a driving force among the underground, but he instead seems content to live without ties, distant from society and yet dependent upon it. It would be wrong to claim he takes no pleasure from his occupation, but Faulkner views his profession and chosen role in life with an amount of clinical detachment. He has a particular habit for humming or singing to himself when he believes he is alone – or when hunting.


History: Avery Faulkner has never been a man of great wealth – but he has always been a man of means.

words words words

Faulkner currently acts as the head of acquisitions for the Belfry in the Underground – a well-known supply shop for occult and magical items – but is often hired privately for similar tasks. His reputation for accomplishing less-than-ethical tasks efficiently and without question insures he is always well employed.

[Faulkner]

Height: 5’8” (bipedal) – 36” (quadrupedal)
Weight: [/b]147lbs

Appearance: [/b]Bipedal, hulking, monstrous – the image of a creature drawn out of myth and lore. A square build, heavy forequarters, and blunt features make for a lumbering opponent built for strength over speed.

Personality: Keenly intelligent and hardly wolf-like. The animal is home to a calculating and sound mind that harkens more to his human half than any feral beast, but is just as vicious as any of his kind. The resultant temperament is volatile at best.

[Faulkner]

Powers & Abilities
Faulkner has been a practicing warlock for decades, and a werewolf for longer. The combination has left him with a bevy of tricks up his sleeve – often quite literally.

-Practices blood magic. Requires physical contact with a source of blood to perform any sort of spell, and has been using this form of magic so exclusively that his ability to conjure without it is extremely limited.

-The more magical the blood, the stronger the spell’s potency – a target’s own blood, however, is often the strongest source. Faulkner prefers procuring this resource on his own, rather than trusting something so essential to a stranger. His own blood, though sufficiently magical, is a poor conduit for spells but is still functional. He carries a knife at all times for this reason.

-Magic is enhanced through the use of sigildry and runes. The more complex the symbol he is able to draw, the more potent the spell will be. Symbols drawn in blood directly onto the object – or person – he is manipulating will be the most effective.

-Spells can have varying effects based on the potency of runes and blood used. A drop of dog blood on Faulkner’s finger may provide enough energy to ignite a match, but little more; a rune drawn upon a victim’s chest in the blood of a selkie may arrest the lungs or combust into flames at his will. In short, blood magic takes a supreme amount of planning and skill and is difficult to use efficiently on the fly.

-A lifetime of study and application has left him uniquely in control of his wolf. Its presence is muted and quiet, and he rarely feels the affects of its influence – all thanks to a copious amount of magical manipulation. Faulkner views it as little more than a chained and bottled resource for him to use at his leisure. He is incapable of wielding magic in any alternate form.

-Magic use is physically draining. The more he expends energy on magical resources, the quicker Faulkner tires – and the stronger his wolf’s presence becomes.

[Faulkner]

Everyone: disliked.

Blood of the Lamb - Wilco & Billy Bragg
King of the Gutters, Prince of the Dogs - Murder by Death

[Faulkner]