Dirkes Story

I've always been a lone wolf.  Its never been a direct choice of mine but a way to live.  When I was young my parents were killed and left me with a changed life, a life that made me wealthy and not wanting for anything.  When my life in the Sept was ruined at the same time my eye, I decided to leave and join the police academy.  Times were alright but even then I couldn't make it through.  I was to much of a loner, been alone for to long to make friends and keep partners.  The day I received my certification, I changed the heading of my life and moved into private investigation.  It was easy to keep the contacts I had made while at the academy, to use my wealth to advance those who could help me and to develope the resources that I needed inside the police and federal services.  But it was never enough.  The gaping hole in my life, though filled with duty and being a Garou, was still just as empty as my soul.    My kind call it Harano.  Its always haunted me in ways that for sometime I could not Fathom.  A short few know that I was once corrupted, on the brink of falling into the mire that so many other have followed before me.  The corruption of the soul, the belief of failure and inadequency that turned in me like a knife, and stabbed at me anew in my dreams with memories of blurred images.  I'm a haunted man.  Ghost follow me and I always strive to escape them.  When I was 21 I moved away from the Sept and my adopted family at the Steele estate.  I left the glamour and the glitter that is the highlife and dissapeared for awhile.  My uncle, my keeper since I was 15 bade me to speak out to the nephew of one of his friends in Providence.   Rhode Island was a turning point in my life in more ways than one.  I met Terrance MacBlaine and made a friend that in some ways was worth keeping.  But the Sept... at the time I couldn't live underneath a SilverFang.  A ShadowLord won't stand for the diseased wordings and decrees of one such as jean Delacourt and so I left.  For almost a year I joined my uncle in parts of Asia and Africa, taking my rage out on the creatures of the Wyrm, vampires who were worse than most...Setites.  It was here that I learned of my parents death at the hands of a circle in Egypt.  I moved from pack to pack, not trying to make friends, but only to hop my way to where I wanted to be.  With my own search for vengence quenched I stayed and found my own salvation with the dissipation of my need to kill.  Shiou-Tzu was a Stargazer.  He became a mentor to me, and one of the few friends I could ever count.  His story is his own to tell, but when I left him, I felt new.  Rebuilt and differnt than who I was.  I was a lone wolf, but now I could stand having the memories that I did.  They no longer consumed me, and for a time were put to rest.  But new Ghosts always arise.   I returned to Providence instead of my tribe, my first home and tried to make a life there.  I quit doing what I could with investigating and decided to become what I just could within my own kind.  A cousin, kinfolk, who my uncle directed me to, set me up in one of his apartments in Providence, and then I made my return to the Sept of New Hope.   Harano is not something that is easily shrugged off.  I still feel its tug and pull, wanting to drag me down into the corruption that could become my soul.  The Wyrm of self doubt and loathing that could force a Garou into inaction.  The past few years I have killed and risen, fallen in love and been abandoned.  I fight with harano on a daily basis and still keep true to my duties as I interpret them.  I am no Philodox but the blood of one could run in me.  From my father...my mother if she were Garou, my uncle.  I am an Ahroun and my job is to fight.  Both the demons that assail those I have come to call friends, and those demons that come to me in dreams and late at night when memories rise to the surface.  I know that someday I will fall.  It is the fate of all Ahroun to leave behind a legacy.  For the moment...I fight, I live, my story goes on...