Serge was born during the ending years of the Edo period in Japan, the second of his parent’s children. Born of an American mother and Japanese father, his family was reasonably quiet and isolated as, during that age, it was not only rare but considered an insult for a Japanese male to have relations with one not of his lineage or country. This, of course, for the most part was a common with most races and ethnic types. Serge’s parents despite the dishonor claimed upon them lived happy lives; they were in love and for that, cared not what others whispered behind closed doors.

Serge led a simple life in a small village with his parents and his older brother, Dauragon. His family was not well off by any means, in fact could be considered quite poor. They were farmers, owning a small chunk of land outside the village they lived near. Their years were constantly filled with hardships and work. It seemed with each passing year more difficulties fell over the family. Rarely were they fulfilled with blessings of a good season or a prosperous life.

It wasn’t always like that, though, before being outcast because of his dishonoring his name by marrying an American woman, Serge’s father served as a samurai. He had earned much trust, and was considered master of the sword. His ranking and honor within his people exceeded what most could only dream of reaching. It wasn’t until the relations with Serge’s mother that those who once flaunted his skill shunned him for his actions. But, as it were, the two were in love and Serge’s father chose love over duty and honor. Thus ending his proud life as the great swordsman.

From the youngest years of his two son’s lives Serge’s father began teaching him and Dauragon the martial arts of Aikido. Both sons learned quickly, although finding their studies in the arts a difficult and taxing path, both young boys’ disciplinary capabilities were extraordinary which aided in balancing the hardships with success. Both boys managed to master the arts during the nearing years of their teens, well as much as one could master of course. The martial arts were not a one step program, though they had learned what could be taught they would always have to train further, and hone their disciplines to expand their talents.

This, though, was not enough for Serge, during his younger years he was at awe with his father’s wondrous stories of his life as the samurai swordsmen. Serge used to pretend he too was a great samurai, crafting a long stick of bamboo with threads and symbols creating his own little sword. He used to play outside like that for hours, and every day was the same.

It was Serge’s love for the sword that his father decided to further Serge’s teaching and school him in the ways of the sword. He felt Serge had grown old enough to learn the ways and the codes his father once stood for. And so the training began, during the times when his father was not tending the crop he taught his young and vibrant son the art of the sword, how to be the sword, how to bend it to his will and flow as one single entity rather then two separate things. Serge learned how to no longer be sword and himself, but rather how to be the swordsman. Sword and man brought together in an incredible display and skill.

Dauragon, being the unique one took up a slightly odder study, learning skills of combat with chains and other whip-like weapons.

Along with their studies in combat, the boys underwent much schooling from their mother as well; she taught them the ways of the world, society, and business. Teaching them the English language and a few others beyond it. She also taught them many of the typical studies a boy would take in school, sciences, politics, and finance. Both boys, though having their differences, had grown into smart and skilled young men. It was during the ending years of his teens that Serge set out on his own, to make a life for himself.

Serge began traveling, being a bit of an entrepreneur he found many ways to make the money he needed to continue his travels. It wasn’t long before Serge traveled to America, like so many others he wished to make a life of freedom and success for himself.

It was there, that miraculously enough, Serge met up with his brother once more. Though, he had changed, Dauragon was different now, something odd about him always plagued Serge’s mind. He seen very little of his brother only during the few hours between dusk and when he retired to sleep did he ever see his older brother, Dauragon. This always concerned him, questions for some time arose between the two brothers and soon enough Dauragon entrusted the knowledge he had amassed to Serge. At first, it was quite hard to grip what Dauragon had told him. He spoke of another world, a world of the night where vampires ruled as lords and mortals as their sheepish flock. It never took much proof, mind you, to convince the young brother of Dauragon’s new identity. And soon, Serge grew to hate Dauragon for what he had become, a ruthless creature with little care and little honor.

As most siblings when things arose, they fought often, one night in particular brought out the worst. During their often arguments over Dauragon’s actions, a spar broke out. There once was a time when the two brothers were of equal skill and strength, but now with Dauragon’s new abilities he overpowered the vigilant Serge. In the moment of hatred between each other Dauragon did to Serge what the younger brother had grown to hate Dauragon for being, embraced him. It was with that that the both separated once more, Dauragon leaving Serge alone to become what he did and survive on his own.

Serge found his un-life overly difficult, things had changed so much now, and he refused many of the things a vampire needed to live, one of them being the blood that sustained him. He continued his damned un-life this way for almost a decade or so, feeding off only the lowly animals he could find, refusing human blood. It was during this small age of pain and suffering that Serge was taken in by another of his kind, a Ventrue elder known as, Andre Norton, who taught him to harness his gifts and come to terms with his damnation. Serge spent over a century with his new friend and companion, learning from and befriending him for many decades.

Serge sat back in the folds of society and riches, watching the ages pass by. Year fell into decade; decade fell to century and so on and so forth. As the ladder half of the 20th century kicked through the decades Serge left his friend as he had left his family, in search of another life.

Though he had departed Andre’s side, Serge still kept in good contact with the man. Eventually he was propositioned by Andre to make travel to Indianapolis. Serge’s long time friend was starting a new firm in the city and wanted Serge at his side once more. Especially since Andre was going to be indisposed for a time, he wanted Serge to take the proper steps in bringing the firm into establishment. Find the location, purchase the needed space and begin the ascension of their new company. Serge liked the way that sounded, their company.

So, with that, Serge presently finds himself in the city of Indianapolis. The construction of the new firm is well on its way to completion. Under the instruction of Andre, Serge has purchased the perfect location. More then enough space encompassing three full levels of a large downtown business building. A number of employees, as well, have already been put on the payroll. Things are looking up, and until Andre finally makes his entrance, its all Serge’s, the best part is, he isn’t the one paying for it all. Andre, himself, has given Serge the proper authority to use the company’s assets to aid with his image and status in the new city. Serge would have it no other way, although he has also been given strict orders to keep his usage of things to a minimum until Andre has arrived, and so Serge shall…. perhaps.