Alias: Bridgit

Age: Unknown - Appearance of early 20's

Martial Status: Claimed by David [ enrageddarkness ]

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 145

Residence: Rome

Occupation: None

Special Characteristics: Able to transform specific portions of her body without needing to fully shift form, including offering slight changes to her facial features. Able to heal in the traditional Garou way. Allergic to Iron and silver.

Likes: Chocolate, marshmellows, celtic lore, lavender, cats (though they hate her), the smell of rain, and dominat men.

Dislikes: Cold weather and frost

This is for that delectable doll

Her tears my reminder

Her pain etched on my heart

Once she had been a goddess. She had been worshipped, called upon by the druids she still kept watch over. More importantly she had once been Seelie Sidhe, one of the glittering throng. She is a woman who can remember well a time when Rome was no more then a dream of men. Before laws were set down to outlaw worshiping her or any of her kind, she had made an appearance in one form or another in various cultures. She followed the faith of men, left when their belief waned and she became nothing more then just a tale to them. It wasn't until she reached the coast of Ireland that she found a home.

The Celts were primitive, rip with old magic they had yet to fully understand and strong in a sort of blind faith. She dabbled in the affairs of man, toyed with the notion that she might save them all or see to their end. She was not alone this venture, in fact there was a great deal of her kind who came to call this place home. The fae folk. They set up courts, enjoyed the hallow pursuits of their own kind when man settled into periods of peace. Yet, the human soul is a restless thing, and in a matter of years war would come to this land again. It was said that on the night of the wild hunt she would go forth with the Sluagh ridding quick upon her heels to gather up the souls of those who had fallen during the year. Some even thought she made appearances on battlefields to gather up the ghosts that would have lingered there.

She was a goddess of death to some, and to others she was known to bring life. Her main role was that of a fertility goddess and each spring she was said to dance around the fires with any maiden who dared to take up her call. It is important to note that never was she a deity of love, the affairs of the heart were beyond her control. Versed in the art of seduction she soon grew weary of luring lovers to give in to their lust.

Her first mistake was to turn her seduction on to Jokul, better known as Jack Frost. It was his cold demeanor that appealed to her, his misfit status that she played upon. Jokul was banished from the inner workings of their kind when he should have sat as their king. The nightmares of their kind turned to him, and out of their numbers was built an army. Trapped by a vow to protect his kind, Jokul couldn't betray them for the sake of regaining his rightful position. It might have been pity that caused her to go to him, or even just boredom. She was royalty, and believed herself beyond his claim.

When the mortal war flowed into their world, Jokul and his army rode out under the guise of protection. During the years that followed the land was nearly torn apart by the meddling of the Host. All sides lost something. Jokul used the war to eliminate those who stood against him. In the middle of the havoc none took notice that "Raven" was missing. Kept as a prize of war for Jokul she was no longer a goddess but a slave. The mortals who called out her name where left without her presence, and a growing sense that they had been abandoned.

She didn't escape Jokul, it was powers greater then either of them that set her free, Filled with the idea that he was untouchable, Jokul paraded her before the Seelie court. In front of appalled and some enraptured members of the court he stripped her bare and claimed her physically. Their princess and now his whore. In the aftermath Jokul would take no other lover. He declined the offers of both courts.

Raven was soon challenged by the women of her kind who wished to eliminate her and thus stand a chance at having Jokul. It took only small or even imagined indiscretions for a challenge to be called forth. She never backed down even if it would have meant her freedom. For to decline was to show weakness, and to then be rejected from the only world she really knew. This state of imprisonment lasted well over three centuries.

She was bound to lose sometime, and it was in a challenge that included the shedding of her immortality that would be her undoing. Her body was broken, and what little strength she had left used to protect the children she had secretly growing in her womb. Jokul didn't come to her aide, and Raven was cast that very night out of the courts. Banished with her powers stripped. For a few months she wondered in restless fashion. Keeping close to the Sidhe mounds but never invading that world she once knew.

In an odd twist of fate it was a vampire who took her in. One who had loved her for centuries, or at least the idea of what she was. Raven took the mortal name that she now has and used the laws of man to secure her claim of ownership over the lands she called Lockloraine.By then most of their kind had moved on to grander prospects in the Americas, and the land bore only the magic of the few who remained.

It wasn't the Host that came looking for her, it was another creature of legend. Bitten by the wolf, the children she carried were forced into an early birth on the next full moon. For a few short years following she lived the lie that Vous (the vampire who took her in) wanted for her. Rarely was she allowed to see her children and they became far more his children then her own.

On some unspoken agreement Vous and Raven separated ways. She remained in the land she felt tied to and he disappeared off the face of the earth. With little choice but to embrace the werewolf side of her, she turned Lockloraine and all the legend behind it into a haven for the growing werewolf population. She kept herself from meddling in their affairs as she had once done with the mortals who worshipped her. That is, until the life of a hermit finally caused her to seek their company.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly what she might have been thinking when she turned to Aurelius. Raven didn't want to love, not even to know the love of family. Yet, there was something in that man that she couldn't walk away from now that she had a taste of him.