REAL NAME: Matthew Pathkiller
AGE:  35

BACKGROUND: It had been an otherwise uneventful day on the beat for Officer Pathkiller. He’d given out a few tickets, busted a couple of kids for underage drinking, and cautioned a group of frat boys who’d been getting a bit rowdy, but as your average police officer’s day in Motor City went, that was pretty quiet. That is, until he happened to be walking right past the Kwikserve convenience store as the robbers who were turning it over happened to make their exit.

The first robber backed out of the shop with his shotgun brandished, and virtually walked into Matthew. Matthew and the armed criminal both did a double take, but Matthew’s reactions were faster. Grabbing the shotgun, he forced the barrels up into the air and wrestled with the criminal for control of the gun. The struggle was cut short by the bark of a handgun. Matthew felt the bullet slam into his back, followed by another two shots. His knees weakening, Matthew fell to the floor. He saw the second robber emerge from the store wielding a Colt .32. As blackness encroached upon him, the last thing he heard was the voice of the first robber:

“Crazy motherf***er, you winged me with that last shot!”

…

Matthew floated in darkness for what seemed a long time before he realised that he was not alone. Turning, he found himself standing at the edge of a green forest, beside a flowing river of clearest water. Sitting on a rock carving at a stick was an old Native American man, from his traditional clothing a member of the Cherokee tribe from which Matthew’s line sprang.

“Who are you?” Matthew asked of the stranger.

The stranger stopped his carving and looked up at Matthew.

“I am Junal Pathkiller, your great-grandfather,” and somehow Matthew knew this to be true.

“Why am I here?” He asked his ancestor.

Junal looked towards the woods, and from the trees trotted the largest wolf Matthew had ever seen. The wolf looked at Matthew with intelligent eyes, and spoke.

“Matthew Pathkiler, I am Wa’ya; the wolf. Long ago one of your ancient ancestors performed a great service for me, in the time before the Great Spirit split your people to the North, South, East and West. In return, my kind called him brother and I gifted him with the power of my medicine. That gift has been carried down through your line, but only those who are worthy of it may be allowed its use. Junal was the last of your line to receive my gifts. He has intervened on your behalf and asked me to judge your worthiness, for you are the last of his line. Truly, it would be a pity if such an honourable line should perish. Although you have strayed from the path of your ancestors, your heart is pure and your purpose noble, for it has always been the place of the wolf to protect the members of his pack. Thus to you, defender, I grant the power of my gifts and of my medicine, if you are willing. But beware, for with such powers comes great responsibility.”

Matthew looked over to his great grandfather, who smiled and nodded. Matthew smiled back, feeling at peace in this serene place in the company of his ancestor. He turned to the Wolf.

“I accept.”

The wolf inclined his head.

“Very well. From this moment on, I count you as one of my line; my children shall call you brother, and I grant you the strength of my medicine. It will take time for you to come to understand what this truly means; Junal shall watch over you, and help you in your journey. Now, my child, return.”

As abruptly as that, the scene vanished, and Matthew returned to darkness.

…

On the street, a minute or so had passed. The shopkeeper had emerged on to the street, and stood by Matthew’s body, which lay unmoving in a pool of blood. A couple of other passers-by had stopped.

“Oh my…”

“Do you think he’s dead?

“I think so – his chest isn’t moving… and look at all the blood!”

There was a cry from one onlooker as Matthew’s body twitched.

“What the…?”

The body bucked again. Matthew’s eyes shot open and he drew in a gasping breath.

“He’s alive!”

Even from where he lay on the ground, Matthew could tell something had changed. Even in the dim evening light everything seemed sharper, more vivid to him somehow; sounds seemed clearer, easier to separate; the scents of the street met his nose with a vivacity they had never possessed. Matthew felt the pain in his back as he tried to move; a low growl began in the back of his throat. He began to stand; as he did so, he felt his uniform grow tight, and cries of alarm came up from nearby onlookers

“My god!”

“What’s happening to him?”

Matthew felt his clothes tearing, and looked down. He saw that he was growing, and a grey fur was sprouting from the rents. As he drew himself up, he thought how much smaller everyone looked, and realised he now towered above them. It took him a few moments of staring cross-eyed at the strange thing in front of his face before he identified it as his own muzzle. He reached up to feel it with his hands, to find they too had grown larger and furred, and clawed. He touched something else sharp, and grinned, revealing a mouthful of long, canine teeth. People in the streets were screaming now. Matthew turned towards them, although he was a little confused himself.

“Calm down, people!” The deep, rumbling voice that issued forth caught Matthew by surprise. He reached into the tatters of uniform that still clung to his chest and pulled out his badge between his forefinger and thumb. He opened it; in his hand, it seemed like a child’s toy badge.

"I’m a policeman! Um… move along… nothing to see here?”

There was a jangle of metal striking concrete, and Matthew looked down to see a bullet roll to the floor. Another identical sound followed as the second bullet was pushed out of his back and fell to the floor.

“Well, perhaps there is something to see,” Matthew admitted. At least he didn’t have to worry about the moving along bit, he noted; most of the people present were actually fleeing down the street. Matthew sighed. As he did so, he drew in the scent of blood from the street. After a moment’s puzzlement, he noticed that there were actually two scents. His nose twitched. One was his, the other… must belong to the man he wrestled with! Matthew drew in a long breath through his nose, and could detect the scent moving off down the street. He followed it, legs pumping, and dropped to all fours. He felt himself shrinking, but gaining in speed. A look in a shop window now revealed that he was in the form of a large wolf, bolting along the street. The scents grew sharper still in this form, and Matthew raced along following the invisible trail. There were screams and shrieks as people leapt out of the way of the dashing wolf as it weaved out into the street and crossed onto Fourth Avenue. Matthew felt the scent growing stronger, and could tell it was coming from a beat-up green Oldsmobile caught in the traffic. He slowed, and lifted back onto two feet again, growing in stature once more. He growled, and raced towards it, powerful legs pumping. He leapt clean over a stationary Ford Taurus and continued on to the Oldsmobile. There was a cry from the vehicle, and Matthew saw the man he had been grappling with leaning out of the car window, his eyes bugging out in disbelief.

The vehicle shot into reverse, slamming into the vehicle behind it, and attempted to mount the curb. It was too late; Matthew raced around the side of the car. He was greeted by the roar of a shotgun; the blast struck him square in the chest, sending him sprawling backwards onto the tarmac in a spray of blood. There was a cry of victory from the car, and the driver, now wielding the shotgun, climbed out of the car.

“Whoo! D’ya see that, Dom? I bagged that bastard but good!”

“Yeaaaah! Good shootin’, Jim!”

On the tarmac, the blood had ceased to flow, and Matthew could feel the wound slowly knitting closed. He sat up.

“Bad move, ‘Jim’,” he said, baring his fangs. “Should have stayed in the car.”

All colour drained from the man’s face, and he turned to get back in the Oldsmobile, but before he could reach the door Matthew was on him. He grabbed the man and slammed his head against the car roof; the man buckled over, unconscious. Matthew crossed to the front of the car and looked in at the petrified, bleeding man in the passenger seat. He slammed a massive fist through the windscreen, shattering it, and dragged the man shrieking through the broken remnants. Matthew lifted the man in the air, bringing his face level with his muzzle. He snarled and bared his fangs, breathing a hot, steaming breath into the man’s face. There was a gush and dripping sound, and Mathew looked down - the man had wet himself. He grinned.

“You’re under arrest.”

PERSONALITY: Matthew has grown since being given Wolf’s gifts. He still retains the hard edge and street savvy that his years on the streets as a police officer have given him, but through his rediscovery of his roots and his journeys with his great-grandfather, he has also developed a more spiritual side to his personality. Intensely loyal to those he calls friends, ruthless against those who would cause his friends or innocents harm, Matthew still heeds the call to ‘protect his pack’, despite having left the police force.

APPEARANCE: Despite his age, Matthew appears to be mid to late twenties. He is in extremely good physical condition, well muscled and toned. His skin is a faint tan, a legacy of his Cherokee father, as is his pitch-black hair, which he keeps cut short. He tends to wear normal clothes, but wears a beaded Cherokee necklace and is seldom without his black leather medicine bag at his side.

POWERS/SKILLS: Matthew took the name Wolf after his new-found ability to transform into either a large wolf or a huge werewolf figure at will, in which form he grows to roughly half again his normal height and nearly doubles in mass. In all his forms he exhibits increased physical strength, speed and stamina, as well as enhanced senses, but the degree of these powers varies by form.

In human form, his strength is unusual for his build, well-muscled though he is, but perhaps only slightly above the human norm, as is his speed; he is as strong as a bemuscled wrestler and as fast as an Olympic runner. His senses are increased to the extent that he can see clearly even in low light, and his hearing and sense of smell and taste are incredibly sharp.

In Werewolf form, he grows far stronger, beyond human levels, capable of picking up people and hurling them distances, tipping up vehicles etc, but not to the sort of level where he would be able to punch through a wall, for example. His speed increases to about half again his human form’s. In this hybrid form, he also grows claws and fangs capable of inflicting serious wounds. His senses increase even further, towards the level of the wolf, but in full wolf form they are truly phenomenal, able to track people by scent over considerable distances. As a wolf, his speed also increases further. Much of his strength is lost in wolf form, though he is still larger and stronger than a normal wolf.

Matthew evidences an incredible rate of healing, which again varies by form. Wounds from most normal sources heal very quickly; in werewolf form they heal almost before one’s eyes; bleeding is stopped within moments, and the wounds close over within a minute or so. In wolf form, this process is slightly slower. In human form, Matthew heals approximately ten times as fast as a normal human. If sorely wounded, Matthew will generally shift to Were form to accelerate the healing. As a side effect, Matthew has noted that even though before Wolf’s gifts he was seldom unwell, he has not been ill once since, indicating a heightened immune system.

Matthew also received other gifts from Wa’ya. As promised, his children count Matthew as brother; no wolf will attack him, and will often welcome him as a pack brother. He can communicate with wolves when in wolf or were form, and understand them pretty well in human form (though he is less likely to pick up on some signals in this form, so communication is limited). Animals that would normally act so in relation to wolves are skittish around him, and hesitant to approach, though some dogs with wolf-like traits (e.g. Huskies) have proved to behave similarly to wolves, though this varies by the individual dog and probably has something to do with wolf genetic traits handed down in certain lines. This immediate aversion can be overcome, but certain animals (e.g. horses) always tend to freak when he is present in wolf or were form.

As Wa’ya promised, Matthew’s great-grandfather has guided Matthew in the use of Wolf’s gifts. Through spirit quests, Junal has begun to teach Matthew the secrets of Wolf’s medicine, and he has communed with his ancestors on numerous occasions. Through the use of certain herbs and meditative techniques, Matthew can contact the spirits of his ancestors and the animals, though he has stuck mainly to the former so far. On occasion, Junal has appeared to him in visions without such prompting to issue warnings or messages from Wa’ya, but such occurrences are rare indeed. Junal has mentioned other feats that await Matthew further down the path of medicine, but Matthew is still on the first steps of learning the ways of medicine.

Although he has now retired from the police force, Matthew still has a number of friends and contacts on the force in Motor City. Since retiring a couple of years ago, he has worked as a licensed private detective, and is skilled in investigative procedure from both his police and detective work. As a registered Private Detective he is also licensed to carry firearms. He is a reasonable shot, assisted by his now-keener senses. He has received hand-to-hand combat tutoring as a part of his police training.

WEAKNESSES: Matthew is actually descended from a line of inherited werewolves, where the recessive gene only becomes dominant in a small percentage of those carrying it, and even then only activates in extreme conditions (in Matthew’s case, it was his near-death which caused the gene to kick in). Matthew has found that there are both differences and similarities between himself and the werewolf of legend. The moon, for example, has no effect on Matthew or his changes, and neither do those he bites become werewolves (though there is a chance that any children he might have in the future may carry the gene).

Wolfsbane, he has found, whilst not fatal, still causes him to become extremely nauseous, and also inhibits his powers for a time. Whilst it does not remove them, it makes it difficult for him to change form, taking a short while to do so and causing extreme pain, and also greatly reduces his strength and speed in all forms. It is likely that this is some kind of allergic reaction created by the werewolf gene. He has found that silver causes him irritation and discomfort when touched to his skin, and on the one occasion that he was shot by a silver bullet found the wound extremely painful and that it took far longer to heal. The wound would not heal over until the bullet was removed, and even then only healed at his accelerated human rate). Extremely grievous wounds, including severe burns, also take longer to heal (depending on the severity of the injury; Matthew received third-degree burns to his arm a while back which took a couple of days to heal properly). Matthew is unsure if he is able to regenerate lost body parts, and is reluctant to chop off an arm to find out! He has discovered that he is also vulnerable to stunning through things like gas attacks and sedatives, though he is more resilient and recovers more rapidly than a normal person.

The small problem with animal’s aversion to Matthew has already been mentioned.

EQUIPMENT: Other than sometimes carrying a firearm, Matthew’s main item of note is his black leather medicine pouch. The supporting band around his waist has been designed to expand or contract with his form so as not to lose it during transformation. The only contents that are unusual for a medicine pouch are a couple of pairs of large boxer shorts held in a pocket at the back. Matthew has found them handy for avoiding public indecency charges when he has had to change into were form and then later returns to normal away from his wardrobe. Matthew has also had a large coat and hat manufactured to fit his werewolf form, as he has noticed that for some reason people tend to be less prone to run from a giant man-wolf wearing a long coat and a hat than one without. Though Matthew normally walks about in human form, only changing into his others when necessary, he has found occasion where it has been useful.