Philippe Ballard

> "*Immortality, in a crude and reductive way, is about going through many births and deaths. Reinventing yourself. I know many immortals who couldn’t bear it because they wouldn’t let go of who they were, what they knew or how they thought.*"
> ― Philippe Ballard
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## Early life

* 405 - 435
* 5th
* 6th - 9th
* 10th - 13th
* 14th - 17th
* 18th - 20th

Philippe was born to one of the nomadic tribes that flourished and spread across Europe during the late Roman Empire. Though he was born in Orléans, he remembered little of the place, his oldest memories of moving to the west in order to escape the Romans. He was raised in Toulouse instead, in the years that preceded the establishment of the Visigothic kingdom in what would become part of southwestern France, a curious little boy who was to lead his people against the plague the Romans had become to them one day, but who wouldn’t have a chance to see past into his own future.

He was a man when the battle against the Hunnic invasion took place in the Gaul, a moment in history he would remember vividly as the first time his people and the Romans fought side by side to keep a new threat from moving against them. Philippe didn’t fight for honor, however; neither did he do it for pride or love of his land. He was not bound by land, and since his mother was slaughtered by the Romans when he was but a child, he was no longer bound by blood either. It was a singular thirst for blood that drove him into the battlefield, and more to come afterwards. He was given many names by his people, but he liked master of horrors best.

It was his own blood thirst that led him to his first encounter with a creature even less human than he was. In the woods to the west, he heard of monsters that lived off the blood of men. Philippe thought he would like to find one of those monsters and spill their blood himself — see what color a blood drinker’s blood would look like. He found Roman soldiers instead. The fight that followed their encounter was quick, but bloody. Philippe butchered them at the cost of his own life. Seated beside the corpses, fatally wounded, but proud to die covered in his enemies’ blood, he watched the sun set in the horizon behind the crowns of the trees.

The fire was low so he heard the creature before he could see it, a pair of gleaming yellow eyes moving in the dark. “You are late, demon,” he announced with a smirk on his face. The creature neared him despite his words and, for once in his life, it was Philippe who felt a shiver of horror before something else. The demon smiled, grabbing at his throat and feeding him his own blood. Then, with a quick motion of the creature’s arms, all he saw was black. Once he was back to his senses, he was just as inhuman as he had felt like his entire life.
He was taken to the vampire nest that hunted in that region of the woods between the Gaul and the western lands. In there, they were no longer Visigoths, Romans or Huns, but a different sort of tribe, one made of those that preyed on the living and their delicious blood regardless of who they were or where they had come from. It was in those woods that he was taught to hunt, to hone his new-found skills, and where he learnt of others he hadn’t heard of before. Wolves. Witches. Demons and other creatures he couldn’t quite explain. Philippe was not made for creating roots, though, and with every passing day he grew bored of the isolation of the woods and the nest’s rules.

It was upon hearing more and more about a powerful coven to the west of the Gaul that he had an idea: why stay in those woods while the witches led far more comfortable lives? Why not move against them and take what suited them best? The nest was divided, but those who opposed the idea were killed and, together, they sought after other nests, leaving a trail of bodies on their path down to the Iberian Peninsula. Powerful creatures made a number of enemies on their path to the top and it was as simple to rip a powerful coven apart as to bring their enemies together and them down from the inside.

Much was talked of the exiled witch regent and even more whispered of the reasons he had been shunned for. In his travels from place to place, making allies and beheading enemies, meeting as many witches and learning as much about their magic as possible, Philippe first heard about dark objects. The subject caught his attention as a way to protect himself from its powers at first, but upon listening to the throne’s heir supposed dab into dark magic as a means to make himself immortal, he started to wonder whether those objects couldn’t be used to serve his own agenda as well. He met the witch king through the nest that operated just outside the region. The warlock was desperate and though Philippe took his time to present the idea to the man, he assured him that there was a way for all of them to get what they wanted: his throne and his immortality for the region. And the greedy warlock agreed to the terms.

In hindsight, Philippe acknowledge what he had done had less to do with wanting a better life for himself and his kind than the mere fact that he wanted to do it because he could; because leading vampires into a forbidden city and bringing an entire coven down to its knees was something he was able to do. Turning had brought out the worst in him — his cruelty, his narcissism, his tendency to resort to violence for the mere fact that he was bored. He didn’t see the living as more than playthings to amuse himself with. He became an hedonist with a penchant for horror, someone who needn’t to worry about a thing other than his own selfish amusement.

Presenting the witch heir with exactly what he wanted for the price of a century’s worth of his eternity at a time was the height of his first of many more wrongdoings to come, and even their loss over the coven’s land wasn’t enough to take his delicious delight over the witches’ loss from him. He didn’t care what his nest did next — he was not bound to them or anything else. And he left them behind without a second thought, looking for his next victim and his next game.

He didn’t take part in vampire politics or matters that were just as unpleasant, though he didn’t go anywhere without making an impression. More and more, Philippe became acquainted with the pleasure he found in violence, and he often left his meals or his lovers with more than a broken heart. The trail of blood and corpses he left behind was a constant, though as technology evolved, so did his manners and he finally put some effort into discretion.
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## Personality

* Human
* Regium Vampire

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## Powers and Abilities

* Human
* Regium Vampire

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## Weaknesses

* Human
* Regium Vampire

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## Relationships

### Patricius Anselmi

> "*A warrior who won’t fight back. What good are you for?*"
> ― Philippe to Patricius
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### Henryk Barczak

> "*You are but a child. What do you know of strength?*"
> ― Philippe to Henryk
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### Simone Toulouse

> "*It doesn’t take much to open old wounds.*"
> ― Philippe to Simone
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### Amelia Monroe

> "*I'm not very good at taking care of others, Amelia. I need you to tell me when I’m mistreating you. I want you to stay.*"
> ― Philippe to Amelia
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### Malachi Thorn

> "*I won’t risk my reputation on a half-assed plan.*"
> ― Philippe to Malachi
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