- Character Creation: Feburary 17th, 2005
- Picture Reference: Triple H (WWE)
- Current Status: Active
|Judge, Jury, Executioner|
|Full Name:||Brom Gustafsson|
|Deed Name:||Rules Without Fear (Current), Rips Off The Face of the Forath (Deed Name/Rite), Breaks His Own Bones (Cub)|
|Tribe:||Get of Fenris|
|Pack:||Current: Blitzkrieg Past: Requiem, under Fenris|
|Hair:||Long dirty blonde|
|Theme Song:||Time To Play The Game - Motorhead|
Born and raised in Ashtabula, Ohio, Brom’s heritage descends from Rends burg, Germany when his father, Samson, crossed the sea to the east coast to bring a bit of old into the new. Samson Gustafsson was a mighty warrior back in his home Sept, the Stolen Dirge, feared not only for his claws, but for his terrifying stories of Glory that his pack have won against the war against the Wyrm.
Samson’s pack remained together as a solid, brutal unit for nearly ten years before a Great Hunt turned too deadly and stole two of his pack mates lives. At thirty-five, he crossed the ocean to the States, where he stayed for a short time in the High Pass Sept in Maine, before journeying to the White Oak where he died five years later.
During this time, Samson met a young woman by the name of Elen, only twenty-one at the time and held closely guarded by her father, Erik. The Half Moon was fiercely determined to not let her be married by just ‘any’ man, and after coming to blows with Samson, and finding himself knocked flat on his ass, he finally relented and let his only daughter be wed after five months of courtship, and finding out she was two months pregnant.
Brom was born nine months later in the bathroom of his parent’s house, and then marked by the old Godi with the Baptism, having successfully bred true. The family celebrated, and soon after, Elen was pregnant once more, and so it stayed that way until Samson’s brutal death much later on when called across seas to his once homeland. Elen went on to wed a younger Ahroun a year later. She had three children with Samson, twins with Krieger, who died two years later during his Adren challenge.
Being raised without a father didn’t bother Brom much as he grew up, having taken a strong liking to his Uncle Ulric on his mother’s side. His Uncle, a well known kinfolk in the tribe and once a formidable boxer before a leg injury put his career to rest raised him up as if he was one of his own, helping the young Ahroun through studies and showing him the ropes of rebuilding automobiles and basic construction. Typical male bonding experience type stuff, anything to keep Brom’s mind off his father’s death and focused on something more productive.
In his younger years, a few before the first change, starting out in Junior High, he became quite good at Football and Wrestling, two sports he longed to be great at and practiced his heart out every night after classes and nearly ten hours into each weekend. His studies were never going to be anything above barely passing and he knew that if he worked hard at it, it’d gain him scholarships for College, even impress the girls once they see his letterman jacket at the end of each year. He was a monster on the football field, and he dominated the mat, taking almost a sadistic pleasure with each hit he gave, goading on his opponents behind his helmet or before each match. For his age, he was built, having been a fat kid growing up, now burned away into developing muscle. His height helped a bit as well, and soon, he was crowned the typical all-star jock most schools pride themselves on.
Young Garou LifeEdit
It wasn’t until he turned sixteen that his life changed into a new direction. The fetch came and so did the Get of Fenris. His mother was warned in advance, and thus, his Uncle arranged a meeting. He was taken out into the snow capped hills, and Ulric introduced him to a pair of warriors in White Oak, Stephan the Spine-Splitter Abendroth, a young Half Moon, and Gere Skeffington by the name of Claws-Run-Bloody, an Ahroun and newly minted Fostern for the tribe. The pair of them forced Brom into the first change, and then gave him the beating of a lifetime. From there, they stole him away into the Bole Woods where he lived and trained among his Elders for the next couple of months.
Swallowing this new load of shit was hard at first, but he found himself a mentor in Gere and the two became quick friends. After about ten knock downs, he learned to respect the Fostern and dedicate his time and limited patience to him, more for his survival, but also for the sheer fact that this felt ‘right’ when it was explained to him in plain English. He was to be the greatest of heroes among warriors, a Get of Fenris. It didn’t sound like a bad job, killing monsters, throwing your weight around, living by tooth and claw. It would be a wild ride.
He wasn’t well liked by the other younger Get at first, constantly picking one fight after the next, winning a great deal of them and boasting proudly. He wanted to be the top dog at no cost. He learned well and easily, taking a personal enjoyment in the near sadistic combat training that he went through. He found himself knocked out and bloody quite a few times, but from each experience he learned to toughen himself up, get stronger, faster. With the wrestling background from his old life, he easily turned street fighting into more of a game than a chance of survival. They soon started calling him Breaks-His-Own-Bones fondly after he picked a fight with one of the Adren Modi, calling him out during a moot to flex his muscles. He broke his hand and wrist when punching at a bad angle and instead of finding the jaw of his opponent and scoring the knock out he thought was coming, he found the side of a boulder. Within a moment later he found himself on his ass with two broken legs and an earful of laughter.
Four months later came his Rite of Passage, sent out on a glory quest with a Galliard and a Theurge, armed with only tooth and claw. They made their way down to the shipping warehouses by the docks and ravaged a pair of Fomori that has been hiding out and picking off homeless people for the past few weeks. Brom led the charge and received himself quite a nasty battle scar along his back and torso from the claws of one that had a grotesque melted face and burned at the touch. During the fight, Brom was able to sink his claws into the creature’s eyes and rip its face off, then yank its head away from his shoulders in the midst of frenzy. His pack mates for the night easily disposed of the other, a scaled looking being who could spit venom and move as fast as they could with their rage. Returning home with their heads in duffle bags, they were well recognized by the Sept and thus named Cliath. From there, he was named Rips-Off-The-Face-Of-The-Forath, or, Face-Ripper for short. Proud of his actions, he went on to join Stephan’s war pack, Duatha-Bloth (The Death Blow), and earned himself quite a good name among the local Get of Fenris for being an exceptional killing machine when called upon.
First Trip to St. ClaireEdit
Three years later, Brom found himself at the Hidden Walk mostly due to a bout of hurt pride involving a kinfolk by the name of Rillie who had once spurned his advances. With his pack disbanded due to death or other life choices, he made his way across the country on his Harley to once more ‘fight’ for the heart of the girl that he can’t seem to get out of his mind, as well as forge a new path within the legendary Sept that continues to come back from the worst of odds. There was something magical about this Sept and the Skalds sang proudly of their accomplishments.
Upon completion of his chiminage, Brom soon joined the war pack known as Requiem under the fearsome totem of Fenrir after they lost their Alpha, Lucas, to the claws of his Elder. Under Brom’s leadership, he turned Requiem from a directionless rag tag group to a lethal and efficient killing machine. Soon, other Garou flocked to join with them, such as Kevin of the Glass Walkers and Nikolai of the Silver Fangs, and they prided themselves upon being first in – last out of every battle. Brom also became the Master of Challenge for a short period of time, and presided over several judgments in his own way. Though he hardly made many friends, he was known as fair and impartial in a black and white way. He even found himself once presiding over the judgment of his very own packmate, Kevin, when he found him to be speaking disrespectfully of his Elder and spray painting the walls of the barn with obscene language. He handed down the punishment swiftly upon the Ragabash, forcing him to learn and perform the rite of contrition in front of the entire Sept at moot, as well as repaint the entire barn by himself.
After some time, Brom finally won the heart of Rillie and the two married in a traditional Fenrir wedding involving beer, fists and stories of glory and the old times. A short time afterwards, Brom and Rillie found themselves with child, though she did not breed true. It was at this point that with the state of the pack slowly winding down and pack mates wishing to travel out of the Sept, Requiem finally dissolved and Brom found himself heading back to the east coast, this time to Pittsburgh as he accompanied his friend and companion Nikolai to tend to some family matters.
The Three RiversEdit
Here, Brom moved his family, had a few more kids (3 more to be exact), and joined with a war pack by the name of Cut Throat, under Wolverine. He enjoyed many battles with his new family found himself taking a step back from slashing and killing to defending and protecting, relegating himself to more of a support function rather than the front line as the Ahrouns were more than capable.
With this, Brom found himself becoming more involved with the politics of the Sept and he would assist the Elder philodoxes on gathering information and helping them to come to decisions regarding challenges and punishments. It was then within the next couple of years he challenged for Fostern and succeeded, much to his own surprise. The task was simple enough: Kill an agent of the Wyrm without the aid of your pack, find two Garou at odds and find a resolution, peacefully. That part was not so easy, though he would not admit it to anyone else.
Having kept in touch with his contacts back at the Hidden Walk, mainly James as the two were good friends during their time working together, Brom found himself aching to return to the west coast and pick up where he left off, though duty to his pack always kept him here. There was many more battles to fight and family to raise and it never seemed like a good time to make a life changing move for a third time, that is until the riots came and the city became under siege by agents of the Wyrm.
The Three Rivers fought hard and gloriously against the tide and right when it seemed almost all was lost, the Sept struck back one last time and felled the enemy forces to a point they had no choice but to retreat. The Comeback Kids they were calling themselves as their howls rose to the sky and smoke filled the air. The scent of blood would not wash away for many days. Having got word from James that the attacks were soon to come to the Septs of the West, and with half of his pack slain by the enemy, Brom sent his family to Columbus to stay with his relatives and he once more packed up his weapons and gear and rode off to rejoin a Sept that he refuses to fall.
Character Sheet Edit
|Gifts||Level 1||Level 2||Level 3||Level 4||Level 5|
|Rites||Level 0||Level 1||Level 2||Level 3||Level 4||Level 5|
Fang Dagger: Level 3, Gnosis 6: These daggers are always carved from the tooth or tusk of a great beast. After striking an opponent, the werewolf can activate the weapon, causing it to "bite" deeper into the wound. This doubles the number of successes on the damage roll, before soak. The damage is aggravated.
Hooks and Other Info Edit
- Brom's wife is Rillie, a former St. Claire presence (PC) and Get of Fenris kin. She is a stay-at-home mother. They have several children: Hannah (7), Noel (6), Adele (5), Gretchen (4), and twins: Ava and Laura (2). Ages as of Dec 2014. The family's only male besides Brom is Spike, a 'rescue dog' who may just be kinfolk to keep an eye on the family. Dog is a pretty decided understatement, but living rurally no one is around to give them the stink eye.