Sheltered rich orphan gets taken in by grandfather who was a military consultant and security specialist.


Professional Para Law enforcement agent. Bounty Hunter/ Bodygaurd with family money to fund his training and equipment. Doesn’t use guns, relies on training with martial arts. While studying different forms, he learned of the Khukri, and then had one given to him by his only family member, as he was asked to protect his rich grandfather in the twilight of his life. With the 1st change, this Rahu Storm Lord has whole heartedly embraced his new existence, and as alpha of his pack, the snake eaters, he seeks to make a place for his and his own. Very recently, inherited family $$ and property in sherman, tx.


Walks-the-Blade grew up as a rich kid in Texas. His parents had money from their parents, and so on, like old machine, the military and teas oil were great friends. When he was 11, his parents were killed in a retaliation, and his grand-father took him in. The trauma suffered by Walks led him to withdraw from reality. He started learning the martial arts, training in military tactics, and playing strategic wargames with his eccentric grandfather. Unknown to Walks-the-Blade, his grandfather was a young man in India, a Serbian spy working for british corporations. His actions drew the vowing of a thugee blood oath. The Khukri, the sacred thugee blade, was forged solely to kill one man. They came again when Walks-the-Blade was 14. This time, only the bearer of the blood oath made it out alive, and he lost the khukri in the confusion. Always a warrior, grandfather explained the significance of the weapon, and that he also that as he got older, his health was starting to fail, to the point where he was physically, but not mentally disabled. He gave Walks the thugee khukri and said “You will guard me from now on, grandson.” From that point on, Walks lived, breathed, and ate anything with a tactical solution, or that smelled like gun oil. Infirmity attacked grandfather leaving him spirited, but bed-ridden. From age 13 to 31, Walks kept his grandfather safe and hidden away in the texoma countryside in north texas. He ran a freelance bounty hunter/bodygaurd service, and did reasonably well and gained a reputation for being efficient and quiet. Also, he gained control of the whole of the family fortune. The days passed, and grandfather slowly wasted away. Always armed with his hands and his khukris, he hates to use guns. He has the cold logic of a general, with the beating heart of a warrior. The first change came when they came for the last time. Alone in his room, watching late night tv, gunfire shattered the stillness. Armed with wits and knives, Walks bolted to his grandfathers room. The face of that man lit up with the light from the full moon, and Walks-the-Blade tasted true fury for the first time. Five men and broken glass standing around grandfathers bleeding chest. The night stopped as the edges of the khukris flashed through beams of full, angry moonlight. Heads, fingers, chest, all reduced to hunks of meat. Indiscriminate, as it is true. The anger filled the room with red death. The Assassin blinked, as his companions fell to pieces around him, and raised his gun, to meet the edge of the very khukri he had lost so long ago. Something over takes him, and the guns shakes free of his trembling hands. Out of the shadows, a biting pain on the back of his leg, roused Walks-the-Blade into a red hot anger, a flash of splattering, and the pieces of naked, slick, human ribeye sloughing off the claws and teeth of a beast. The beast turns into the open window, and bathed in the light of the full moon, and looking at the bleeding, broken body of grandfather and lets out a long, dirging howl. He collapses into a man, and into the floor in one motion. Groggy eyes finally see the source of the biting pain on his leg. A large, black wolf with green eyes, sat, almost looking bored with the display of butchery and murder. Before his very eyes, the wolf became a man. A young, sharp dressed man. “Welcome to the real world kid. I’m your new B.F.F., and you can call me Thunder. Now, get up and put some clothes on. I’m calling the cops, so you will need to stay calm. Now, after I make this phone call, you are gonna shut up and let me really explain what the (expletive deleted) just happened….”__


Blood Red River TimothySmart