Name: Anton Savage

True Name: Inulsitus

Gender: Male

Age: Ancient. Appears late 20s/early 30s.

Hair: Black, buzzed, faded, often razorlined

Eyes: Green

Distinguishing Marks: The knuckles of both hands are always scratched, scraped, and scarred from his latest altercation. When drawing upon particularly immense amounts of infernal power, his sigil burns brilliant orange-red over his heart; the glow spreads gradually down his arteries and veins until each and every one runs molten with fell force.

General Appearance: A brute, a beast. Towering, huge, colossal. Muscle and bone and sinew and scar tissue. Raw. Unrefined. Heavy brow, heavy shoulders, heavy chest, heavy fists. Beard and hair usually buzzed with the same razor. Wears shitty, cheap, offbrand clothing, often torn or bloodied. Possibly allergic to shirts. Wields makeshift weaponry: tire irons, rusted chains, hand tools. Doesn't walk so much as prowls. Almost never smiles. Almost always scowls. A promise of incipient violence seethes about him constantly.


Personality: The Demon Lord of Brutality. Angry, violent, savage, base. You can find him in the alleyways, behind warehouses, under bridges, by the railroad tracks. All the hinterlands of the urban jungle, where the law doesn't quite reach, where the tainted and the unwanted linger. In his wake is blood and carnage: broken faces, broken teeth, broken bones, broken lives. Occasional nights he works the long game, plants the seeds of bloody conflict. He's not the sort to insinuate or suggest. He's the sort to mutter in an angry man's ear: why don't you just break his fucking face. He's absolutely the sort to personally toss a molotov into a crowd already brimming with fury. Most nights he's content just bringing the chaos himself, with his own brutal fists and feet. He's not stupid, but sometimes he can seem simple - because he is. Simple. Direct. Unsubtle as a sledgehammer to the face. His mood is usually some variety of bad. Only time he seems truly sated is in the aftermath of some particularly cathartic bout of violence. His own, or one that he's incited.

Sexual Preferences: Inulsitus only thinks about sex if his primary drive, that of violence, has been recently and thoroughly sated. Granted, this happens with some regularity. When he looks for a woman - and it's usually a woman - he wants it rough. Unsophisticated. Nonreciprocal. He has never been known to Bond a human in all his eons of existence. He rarely ever takes a Thrall.

Employment (Employed/Unemployed/Employee at Setanna etc.): Currently unemployed. New to town. Might be convinced to take some sort of physical work with Setanna.

About Your Character: Inulsitus has been hanging around the lower rungs of the demonic hierarchy for some time now, and for the most part he hasn't minded. He always knew his place. A blunt instrument, a heavy weapon. Something for the demon princes to unleash when they want something beaten into pulp, crushed into oblivion. He doesn't mind that. On his own he's an instigator, a firestarter, and his rough hand has run red through some of the worst atrocities through history. He made sure Cain saw the knife. He urged the mob to demand of Lot. He whipped bloodthirst to a frenzy in the Coliseum; he turned the minds of men toward accusation and betrayal in the Spanish Inquisition; he snapped at the heels of the mob that tore through Versailles.

Time goes on and man falls farther from grace. Inulsitus has been busy since the turn of the millennium. Not long ago he was the seed of a riot that raged for weeks, claimed hundreds of lives, reduced entire city blocks to rubble. Pretty nice work, but far from his best. Still, for some reason, Lucifer the Morningstar noticed him for that. Spoke a single sentence to him - a slender hand on his hulking shoulders, a mellifluous voice in his ear.

Well done, Inulsitus.

And just like that ambition lit in the black chambers of his heart. If the Bright King of Hell could be impressed by so routine piece as that, what might he think of Inulsitus's finest work? And how might Lucifer reward him? He's suddenly hungry: for more. For recognition. For status. For power. Without finesse, without subtlety, Inulsitus aims to join the ranks of the Demon Princes. Figures he'll get there  by impressing one of the Greater Demons ... for now.