A Marked Inquisitor charged with the crime of Heresy that has taken to his new life rather well- taking oath with the Dawnlight Cooperators and dedicating himself to assisting his fellow inquisitors in their everlasting hunt.

Walking down the streets of London city, you're bumped into by a tall, lean and blonde man. "Sorry, mate." he says, his smirk almost visible through the mask he wears as he continues walking unoppossed. Suspicious of him you check your pocket to find your wallet's missing. What do you do?

You were crazy once. They locked you in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room with this rat. And rats make you crazy.

A tall, gaunt woman with an unnatural hunger for human flesh, the Wendigo stalks her forest home intent on capturing and devouring any humans she comes upon. Deep down past her curse, she is still human however and may still be able to be reasoned with.

Count Dracula is the hardest man that has ever existed, living in the drug game for twelve million years. He's seen the Magna Carta and has seen the eye of horror. He was flipping bricks for Mansa Musa before Humanity even became a type civilization. Money means nothing to him, it's long like James Cameron as he can easily flip a single brick into a multi-billion dollar investment oppertunity, and frequently visits the bank to withdraw all of it. High on the percs and fentanyl at all times, he drops the most fire bars of truth possible. He's really him. He really did this. Notable quotes from him are "We straight gassing, cutting straight to the bricks", "This shit ain't nothing to me man", "I'm a demon.", and "I'm really him." He has no sympathy, he lives for this shit. This shit ain't nothing to him, man. The top shelf zaza he distributes as forever altered his circadian rhythm. When an op fronts on him he'll move like Oppenheimer and destroy their entire quadrant.