❊|Name|❊
Nemos Sarris

❊|Nickname(s)❊|
Slum King. Beast of the mountains. Wolfbanes mad dog.

❊|Age|❊
23

❊|Birth Date|❊
13th of June

❊|Gender|❊
Male

❊|Sexual Orientation|❊
Bisexual

❊|Beast |❊
Kurmanuk the Cerberus

❊|Region|❊
Wolfbane

❊|Appearance|❊

❊|Appearance|❊
Hair Color || Brown
Eye Color || Brown
Height || 5' 9"
Build || Slim, untonned,
Scars/Markings || Branding of a bulls skull over his heart, scar stretching from right collarbone to shoulder, branding of an oroboros on the back of his neck.
Weaponry || Dual knives

❊|Personality|❊
Positive Traits ||
Intelligent- Nemos possess a quick thinking mind. He absorbs information around him like a sponge, being very very aware of whats going on even when people assume he is just not paying attention. He uses his talent for picking up small and interesting facts and thinks rapidly on his feet to get what he wants.
Determined- Never one to really back down, though not victim to stubbornness Nemos will often pursue a goal doggedly if he sees there is still a a way it can be achieved. This can be used to great affect when channelled into something actually positive. Sadly however he very rarely does.
Kinesiologist- Nemos takes a keen interest in learning about how people act in subtle ways, their movements and the little hints their bodies give out. It gives him a greater understanding of his fellow man in a strange way. No matter how a person may boast or lie or posture there is often small ways to see straight through their bluff.
Honest- Not one for false praise or false modesty, Nemos will always speak his mind. Unfortunately though it means he isn't exactly one for lying it does not make his mind any more pleasant to listen to when spoken aloud.
Negative Traits ||
Cruel- Nemos gets a kick out of being a horrible person. If it is a result of his birth, his upbringing, his general life or just some part of who he is he neither knows nor cares. All that Nemos really cares about is his own entertainment at the cost of others.
Sadistic- Nemos to put it simply has a talent for pain. Be emotional or physical he delights in the possibilities he had before him to hurt someone. He will not hesitate from using blade or poison, rape or torture if he thinks it will in some way hurt another living being. And perhaps worst of all he does not do it because he is told to, paid to or forced to. He does not do it to further his standing in the world. He does it simply because it entertains him.
Mocking- Out of everyone in the world, not a single person has left enough of a lasting impression on the young man to make him think that anyone is worth saving from his disapproval. It only takes one foolish word or action for him to pick up on something and insult someone for their obvious mistakes.
Unforgiving- Not one for second chances, Nemos has little issue with simply throwing people who disappoint him aside. In his mind everyone other than him is little more than a replaceable cog in his horrible games. The rest of the world could be as important as grains as sand for all he cares.
Likes || Power, control, blood, violence, sex
Dislikes || Weakness, ideology, whining, being restrained
Fears || Betrayal
Strengths || Intelligent, unwavering, knowledge of how people think
Weaknesses || Terrible personality, barely contained urges to cause harm, little to no control over his beast


❊|History|❊
Nemos was born as a slave. His mother was just one of many slaves that worked the kitchens in Wolfbane city, not a particularly easy life but one free of most mistreatment. Until her master took a certain liking to her. When she at first refused his advances, the man reminded her of her place. Slaves do not refuse their masters. Nine months later she had given birth to a screaming baby boy. Nemos was barely a month old when he was branded with the ox skulls, the personal mark of his master and father, Deros Sarris.

Word spread through the lower rungs over Deros's slaves, that he had raped and fathered a bastard boy. And as luck would have it, Nemos's fortunes suddenly changed. Deros was a married man and though he was not yet fifty he had no sons to carry on his legacy. His wife, try as she might could give him nothing but stillborns and daughters. Out of guilt or out of need Deros took the babe away from his mother.

And when his mother tried to refuse him this time, he took her head.

Nemos was to be raised a slave and here he was, the slave masters son. His infant life was hardly one of particular ease. To simply have the privilege of having his fathers name his father would have to make it known that he was a bastard, so at just under a year old the mark of the serpent eating its own tail was branded into the back of his neck, a symbol to all that his birth one of disgrace and lust.

As a child even in his own new home he wasn't afforded love and affection. His father was too busy dealing with the cutthroat world of slave ownership and trying to remove as many of his mercantile enemies as possible. His adoptive mother cared nothing for him, a stark reminder of her constant failures at giving her husband the son he so desperately needed. Though he wasn't ill treated by his father, he was given very little to do other than find ways to entertain himself. At first it was reading what he could in the family libraries, he taught himself the arts of reading and writing. When that began to tire him he sought out other means of entertainment.

Nemos quickly became friends with the handful of hounds his father had in their estate, learning how to think like an animal and more importantly how to dominate them to his will. It took less than a year for him to discover to his glee that he had a skill at breaking the will of the loyal beasts, their houndmasters no longer being able to elicit barks and growls. Nemos was their master now, and was often found being followed by at least one of his trusting beasts.

He killed his first person at the age of ten when he pushed a slave off of a cliff. He had managed to befriend the ragged, thin boy with gifts of food and promises of kindness and riches, to the boy it must have seemed as though the gods had answered his prayers. For Nemos it was just an experiment, if he could break hounds how hard would it be to wrap a slave to his bidding? It was hard going at first, but soon he discovered how trust and kindness can make potent weapons.

Nemos didn't get a chance to find another slave to break for a while. His father had discovered one of his slaves had gone missing and managed to trace it back to the young boy. His father wasn't angry however, he saw the potential here better than most. His son was slowly moulding himself into a fearsome weapon he could use to better his own place in the city, if not the entire Realm. He just needed inspiration and refinement.

The boy was forbidden from interfering in such a way with his fathers slaves, but the old man said nothing of anyone elses. But before he could really allow himself the chance to pick out his next subject his father decided it was long past time he was shown the coliseum. Almost instantly the boy was hooked on the idea, he took the time to visit every single fight that he could get away with. He made himself a small fortune on betting on the fighters, enough to start buying some of his own on the sly. He would never have openly admitted to anyone back then that it was him making the most amount of money from all these fights, he worked through others of course. Who would listen to a twelve year old boy?

Things continued in much this way for a few years, he would watch the gladiator matches with a growing sense of sickening glee, earning money either way the fights went. He took what chances he could to find weak minded slaves and worked his way into their minds. He built up a web around himself of slaves loyal to him rather than their masters and a chain of blackmailers and enforcers that didn't even realise they were in the pocket of a child.

And when he started coming into his manhood he found he could take whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted. Slaves were easy things, rarely putting up a fight and more often then not hardly worth the effort. Most did not even give a hint of enjoyment and at first this bothered him until it became normal enough that it didn't even phase him. Slowly this apathy turned like all things into one more way to control others, of all the ways to break someone he found that sex had an entirely different and just effect affect on the minds of the slaves. Be they boy or girl, older than him or his own age none of them were really immune from his attention. But their thin bodies and often ugly faces did eventually start to tire him and he started to look elsewhere as he grew older and more sadistic. The gladiators in his pay were more reluctant to do anything with him, unless of course he pretended to be helpless to their advances, he found that either way was enjoyable enough for him and it did entertain him no small measure when they discovered he was actually their secret master. Even those who entirely refused were not beyond his grasp, there were a lot of strong arms in the city if one flashed enough gold.

As the years slipped by and he fell into his stride. Deros finally found a use for his sons evil nature. There were many slavers in the city and many of them were enemies of Deros. By the years end there were a lot less slavers. A string of murders, slave uprisings and sudden accidents began to shoot up all of a sudden, the slaves were often the ones blamed and also the ones often killed for their supposed crimes. Nemos only came away with a single wound through the entire time, a bodyguard who he had thought paid off managed to bury his axe in his chest, leaving the painful scar that remains as a reminder of his lapse in judgement. The bodyguard went missing not long after, the hounds were also reportedly rather well fed for the next few days.

It didn't take long for Nemos to begin to tire of being little more than a lacky to his fathers ambitions. After all, why should he restrain his own success just for a man too weak to carry out his own will. Relying on his bastard son would only cause him greater weakness, and indeed it did. His father had kept him on a short leash, but as time went by the man began to trust his son more and more. And in time, slaves with a branding of twin daggers began to appear, working in every part of the city without anything to link them together. Nobody knew who their master was, only that Deros was starting to lose money, and his son was gradually showing less and less interest in carrying out his fathers work.

<Last part pending>

|Face Claim|
Ryner Lute

|HEXCode|
#206020

Kurmanuk=#a51b1b