We Clowns get confused too easily, it seems. lol
Anyway, here's my profile. Those other vamp kings (and anyone else who'd like to peruse) feel free to give it a look, and let me know if anything plot wise jumps out that we might use in the current day story.
Name: Aleksey Desaad
Age: 518 years
Weapons: A pair of sabres, or Szabla, as they are called in his native Hungary. They are weapons of exceptional craftsmanship, and were created during his rule over Hungary in the late 1500's. Given as a gift by a subjugated mortal King, they were quickly used to behead said king, and its rumored that the man's blood still taints their hilts.
Abilities: Illusion, Flight
Personality: Years of life among the dead, mimicking humanity whilst amongst them, has left his sanity fractured, if not close to breaking. At times he is cold and aloof, heedless of outside influence, worrying about his own trivialities as a monster. At other times, his focus is almost too intense, and he can spend hours plotting and scheming, thinking of plans and probabilities with a mind that would border between genius and insanity. His personality is such that every night can bring a new and strange twist to those around him. If nothing else, he is always esoteric and unique, and not many can concieve ways in which to interact with him.
Biography: Born in Stalingrad (now Volgograd) in southwestern Russia in 1492, he was the only child of Petrovich Desaad, a pure blood vampire of the Ravnos clan who could track his lineage back to the time of the Crusades. Being the progeny of such a powerful creature brought with it its own form of trials and tribulations, and the young child was often criticized by his father for failing to follow the grand example set to him by his father, and those before him. His mother, a fellow pure blood, was little better, though she did show a compassion for the boy that bordered on obsessive. She made certain that he was finely dressed at all times, and fussed for hours over his appearance, instilling in him an obsessiveness over his own appearance that has survived to the present day.
When he was older, he began attending clan meetings with his father, and was stunned to discover that the members of the Ravnos clan numbered in the thousands. The clan had sub groups that were called Covens, and each coven could host a hundred members or more. But for all of this 'caste' systemizing, it did little good when squabbles over land and feeding rights broke out between covens. As often as the vampires of the Ravnos fought their enemies, they fought each other, and more often than not when a vampire of the clan died, it was by the hands of a fellow Ravnos.
Being a pure blood himself, all of this violence and bloodshed was not only foolish, but downright dangerous to his existance. As his mind matured and grew, so did his desire for peace. Where his father would simply turn a blind eye, he would press and investigate for answers, earning the ire of not only the other clans, but also those among his own. Rumors circulated that the young upstart prince was growing to be a thorn in the clan's side, and unbeknownst to him, plots were made to silence the inquisitive and insistant young vampire, forever.
So it was when he was just half a century old, a trio of assassins swiftly entered his chambers, weapons at the ready, intent on silencing his voice forever. They were foolish in thinking him an easy target; for years, his father had insisted that he train with a blade, should a time like this ever come. He battled them, three against one, and defeated them each in turn. Lost in the thrill of battle, overcome with its lust, he gave into his own hunger and drank the rapidly spilling blood of the three vampires that had attacked him.
It was thus that his father discovered him, kneeling on the floor, his fangs sunk into the flesh of one of his assassins, the other two already turned to a dry husk from the taboo feeding. Horrified at the scene, and infuriated with his son's lack of control, he dubbed the boy Kinslayer, and banished him from his kingdom for the rest of his unnatural life. At the pain of death, he was warned never to return, and for two hundred years, he traveled the world, growing and maturing, and ultimately coming to understand one thing: if he were to truly survive, he not only had to face his past, but overcome it. And the only way to do that was to face his father.
During his years of solitude, he had learned more about the art of killing, spending nearly a century as Hungary's overlord. He ruled the land with an iron fist, and laid a bloody gauntlet of death and despair across the landscape. Any who resisted were punished severely as an example to the rest, and it was during this time that he earned the moniker Desaad Nex Paciscor, or Desaad the Death Dealer. He beheaded the King of Hungary, Rudolf II, after the man presented him a pair of twin sabers as a tribute of loyalty.
This fortitude in the face of death served him well. No longer affected by the horrors of death and bloodshed like he once was, he returned to his father's land, and challenged him. Such a formal challenge was unheard of, but Petrovich, as lord of his domain, was obligated to accept it, lest the vampires of his clan see him as weak. His son knew this, and used the challenge to lure his father out to face him. The battle was bloody and quick, ending with Petrovich's head separated from his body, and his blood staining his son's garments.
Inheriting his father's status and lands, he began a new time of prosperity for mortals and pure bloods alike. Tiring of bloodshed and depravity, he set his sights on advancing his realm, and it wasn't long before the mortal realm flourished. The vampires in his realm flourished as humanity grew, and feeding was largely unnoticed, so long as one was careful. This time of peace would last only a scant sixty years, before the burdgeoning realm came under attack from a source all too close to home.
The revenants of the Ravnos clan, those who lusted for power and status of their own, betrayed him to the other clans. Doing so was such an unspeakable act of treachery that death was considered the only suitable punishment. Fortunately (for those performing the act), the punishment was only justified if their schemes failed. Unfortunately for the young pure blood, their plan succeeded. The revenants had allowed members of clans Malkavian and Brujah to lay claim to bordering territories, and it wasn't long before fighting began. This fighting eventually scarred the landscape and brought death and bloodshed to the very steps of his castle. Forced to defend himself and his holdings, he rode out to meet these usupers face to face, little realizing how outnumbered he was.
He was summarily defeated, overwhelmed by superior numbers. In their haste to avoid the burning daylight, the revenants, along with the members of the Malkavian and Brujah forces, staked his body to the roof of the town's cathedral. They jabbed long pikes through his hands and feet, pinning him to the crumbling rooftop, and left him for the sunlight to finish off. After nearly three centuries of unlife, it seemed that the young Desaad prince would finally meet his end.
But fate was with him, it seemed, as the dawn approached. Representatives of two factions, those led by the Malkavian 'King', and the Brujah 'King', were there to rescue him, and pull him down from the rooftop. He escaped the terrible power of the dawn, and was made to promise his allegiance at that very moment. If he refused, his saviors would leave him for the dawn once more. If he agreed, however, he would have his chance at vengeance. He quickly agreed, eager to taste the blood of his enemies.
Their plan was swift and quick. After meeting with the 'Kings' of the other two clans, it was decided that they would gather those loyal to their banner, and march on the other clans. The vampires had grown too wide in their reach, and the young prince almost beleived that his cause was holy in its scope and purpose. It also offered him the chance for vengeance, and it was a vengeance that he took great pleasure in dealing. Gathering those loyal to him, and his father, he joined forces with the other two factions, and laid waste to the whole of the vampire population. Desaad the Death Dealer, the Kinslayer, and now King of the Ravnos, wrought such devestation during his march that his bloodlust was second to none in the years that followed. When the smoke and the stench of death slowly began to clear, he was a changed creature, his sanity crumbling under the weight of so much death.
Their task complete, they had but one final goal: claiming the daughter of Clan Altare in order to breed with her, and propogate their own species. The heir to the Clan Altere throne was young, however, and would take centuries to mature, ultimately making their plan stall. In this interlude, the vampire went on his own path, eventually finding and Turning a young woman of noble birth to act as his second. In the years that followed, he has remained largely a ghost, a figure spoken about by Turned and the Fangless, a legend both nameless and faceless. As the nights seem to shorten, and the Triumverate's goal coming closer to fruition, will the legend become reality once more? Will Desaad the Death Dealer, the Kinslayer, return to haunt the modern nights? Or will his task ultimately be his undoing?