Keyan Tobin II's Origins...

Eons past as the war between the Nosfaretu and Lycans raged on in the shadows of the world, unknown the people surrounding them who were unaware that they were frequently the collateral damage of this ancient blood feud.

Born with the name Kristof Forrest the man that he grew into ceased to exist mere months ago when he was attacked by a creature of terrible size and strength.

He had just left work for the day as a computer technician and had decided to take the long way home by walking through the park to enjoy the cool night air and the crystal clear stars that laid out above his head. However, upon losing sight of the city surrounding the park he began to feel the uneasy feeling he was being watched so Kristof started heading for the quickest way out of the park, rather than face whatever was following him.

That was when he walked into a battle and a war he hadn’t even known existed.

A lone figure, covered in fur face three figures that looked like thin, frail human beings holding old style weapons in their pale hands. The lone figure howled with the sound of a wolf in agony and leapt at the three pale figures, sending them dashing away from their attacker.

One of the figures was unable to avoid the charging creature and with a sickening snap the creature pulled the pale figure in two, sending its bloody remains flying through the air as it faced the remaining two figures.

It was then that he felt a sudden strong grim on his shoulder and the scratch of rough fur on his neck, sending shivers down his spine and he faced another creature like the larger one below.

Kristof felt his pulse quicken as the creature pulled back from him and in one lightening fast move buried its mouth into his heck releasing an unbelievable feeling of agony as he felt his blood gush forth from his veins while at the same time something else was entering into his body. Kristof felt himself hit the ground beneath him and remember seeing the figure blur past him then he knew nothing but darkness as he felt himself die.

When Kristof awoke he fond himself lying in a pool of blood, yet surprisingly he had no wounds on his body, only a scar under the torn remnants of his shirt on his shoulder.

Slowly he started to sit up when a man’s voice called out to him, “Be careful young man you’ve been through quiet a night you’ll be a little sore at first so take it slow.”

The reaction to the voice casued the exact thing it had warned against as Kristof tried to turn quickly and face its source, which led him to succeeding in dumping himself back on the ground groaning in agony as his muscles screamed at him like he’d spent too many minutes in a fight with someone twice his size.

The voice chuckled, “Fresh ones never learn…” Suddenly a rough, aged face entered Kristof’s vision above him, “My name is Keyan Tobin, you might remember me from last night. Sorry above the whole biting thing but you happened to be in between me and my prey while I was hunting him my brothers.”

Keyan offered his hand to help Kristof to his feet, which the sore man reluctantly accepted, “What are you?”

Keyan smiled slowly, “I am, and my brothers and sisters, are known as Lycans amongst ourselves, but you would know us better as Werewolves. The things you saw us fighting are Nosfaretu, or Vampires if you prefer; they would have killed you if they had noticed you watching our little hunt and I knew there was no way you’d just walk away if I asked you while I was covered in fur. Thus I had no choice but to incapacitate you the only way I can.”

Kristof would have attacked the man if he wasn’t so weak, “So you bit me!”

Keyan nodded, “Again I apologize that it was necessary, but consider this a great gift that you will come to recognize in time. Until then farewell.” Without another word Keyan leapt into the air and at a speed beyond anything Kristof could fathom the man was gone from his sight.

The next month was difficult for Kristof, he found himself more aggressive than ever before to the point that he assaulted a man who ran into him at a restaurant. That basically forced him to go into hiding until he could get himself under control.

It was while he was in this self-imposed exile that Keyan returned, somehow finding him despite the face that he had been moving around nearly everyday. The man explained much of the history between the Lycans and Nosfaretu and about the ever-changing ruling classes of the Lycans.

Then the man stopped, staring down at his hands and look up at Kristof, “There is one important thing left that I have yet to tell you.”

Kristof sighed, “What else is there?”

Keyan sighed while I was gone I did some digging and found that as I suspected you are a distant descendant of mine, coming from the same bloodline I was originally from. I don’t know how, but it appears that we are related by more than just the bite I gave you.”

Kristof frowned, “What does that mean then?”

“It means that when your transformation completes with the next full moon you could very well have access to my old memories, they could even erase who you are now.”

Kristof shook his head in shook, “What!?! How do I keep that from happening?”

Keyan could only shake his head, “I don’t know, just hope that you’ll it won’t happen to you. This doesn’t not happen very often, in fact you might almost consider it taboo in some circles. I’m sorry there is not more I can do for you, but I need to go.” Keyan took Kristof’s shoulders in both hands and gave the younger man a light squeeze “Good luck.”

Kristof awaited the new moon with the anticipation of man awaiting his own execution and when it came his life changed forever. When the full moon rose above the night sky he felt his blood begin to surge and his muscles stretch in a way that forced him into a ball then immediately forced him straight making him writhe on the ground as he felt his bones breaking and reforming and his muscles tearing to accommodate the larger frame that was growing within his body.

Then he felt a blood-curdling howl emerge from the razor-tooth filled maw that had replaced his face and suddenly new thoughts and memories came flooding in his head bringing a new level of anguish to him as he struggled to allow the lifetimes of memories he was seeing from Keyan Tobin to fit into his skull. For a time it seemed that he might remain conscious through the process and be able to regain some control of himself, but then, despite his best efforts, he began to feel his own body slip away from him until he fell into darkness again for what could be the last time.



When the sun announced the arrival of morning a man rose from the makeshift bed he found himself lying in and had a splitting headache. It felt as if he had two people in his head, both thinking aloud trying to make sense what had just happened. One mind, clearly the elder, remember feeling something like this when this had happened to him before and recalled everything from the night before. The other, while younger felt more at home in the body, didn’t remember anything but clearly was worried about the elder mind. The two minds started arguing louder and louder until the sounds of their voices overwhelmed the man and he collapsed on the ground again.



Kristof regained consciousness slowly as a fog that had settled over his mind seemed to lift and as it did a strange new awareness revealed itself to him and with that new awareness another presence made itself known, an older and stronger presence, “Finally you wake up, if I didn’t know for sure that you’re my descendant I would question it right now.”

Kristof started as the voice echoed through his mind, “Who is this?”

The voice laughed, “You really don’t remember anything from last night? It was a glorious night of hunting Kristof; I’d almost forgotten the vigor a young Lycan can have during his first hunt.”

Kristof struggled to remember what happened the night before, but nothing cut a plain memory came to him, “What did you do?”

The voice laughed with an eagerness that unnerved Kristof, “Let me help you remember…”

Kristof screamed in anguish as his mind seemed to tear itself in two as memories from the night before poured through his mind, he remembered stalking a young women before tearing her into bloody shreds, he remembered gorging himself on the flesh of a group of homeless people as they took shelter under a bridge for the night, and he remembered a howl that emerged from his throat as human- blood dripped from his mouth. He remembered everything he had done and once he did he wished he hadn’t.

“No, no its mot possible, I couldn’t have done that…I couldn’t…” Kristof trailed off until he was only muttering quietly to himself as the images of the night before ran through his mind.



The voice chuckled to itself as Kristof’s scarred mind withdrew from his body, allowing the older mind that had formed to assume control. The older mind was the sum of all the memories of Keyan Tobin that had been amassed over the years and thus thought of itself as Keyan’s son in a way, Keyan Tobin II. Keyan II found that Kristof’s mind, as broken as it was from the revelation he’d forced him to have, was easy for him to pry open and examine, allowing him access to all of the memories of the younger man.

Using these Keyan II found it easy to become familiar with the environment he lived in and soon found he underground enclave of Lycans that thrived in the underworld of the city where Kristof had lived.

It was here that Keyan II met the first of his brothers, including one that his ancestor knew; a beast of a werewolf name Fenris Blackmane who was forming a new enclave of Lycans to combat the growing threat of the new Nosfaretu clans that were forming in the area; the enclave was to be called the Lycan Alliance.

Keyan II was named to the Lycan Alliance’s War Council under Fenris and was tasked with scouting out and hunting down the clans of Nosfaretu to better prepare the Alliance for the coming wars they were to fight, the first of these was to be the so-called Immortals.

The war was one of sweet vengeance for Keyan II as his newfound brotherhood tore through the ranks of these “Immortals” like he would a young lamb, leaving no doubt who was the far superior force when the war ended.

It was after this tremendous victory that the War Council sought to better organize the members of the clan to help bring up all the members of the Lycan Alliance into strength and power that would cause all Nosfaretu to shake with fear at their very name.

The clan was divided into four house, the RavenPaw, DeathDogz, Bloodhound, and Hartman’s Devil Dogz with Keyan II being named the head of the Bloodhound House with it being one of the houses in need of more training before it could join the ranks of the clan’s elite with Clan Leader Fenris Blackmane and the RavenPaw House.

Keyan II set to the work of setting the affairs of his house in order, preparing them to be trained and taught in the ways of the Lycans. It is a time of energy and excitement for all of the Lycan Alliance for as the houses grow stronger and the clan prepares for another war the time soon approaches when all Nosfaretu will cower at the mention of the Lycan Alliance and the power that its members hold.

Keyan Tobin II’s story will continue…

I hope you enjoyed reading this, if you have any comments share them, I'm always looking for ways to improve and feedback is the best and fastest way to do that.

KT