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Beau is a large, burly, hirsute man...and that's when he's not "wolfed out". He dresses simply and comfortably, with a wardrobe featuring a lot of plaid and well-worn jeans.
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Beau is a laconic and well meaning young man, the sort who was raised up right, says please and thank ye kindly, and holds the doors fer the wimmin-folk. And though he ain't got much book learnin, nor no fancy degree, he does got native smarts and practical knowhow aplenty. He's a good ole boy, and true blue through and through.
Always partial to the outdoors, Beau made a living doing odd jobs, getting seasonal work as a hand on farms and homesteads across a broad region, and when times were tough just flat out living off the land. It was a simple life, but that was quite alright with Beau; his family never did have much and they had become long accomodated to their lot in life.
All that changed one dark night when Beau was out roughin it as he was wont to do, camping out under the stars and the prettiest full moon you ever did see, shining down on his simple campsite like a spotlight hung bright up in the sky. The wolves were a-howlin out in the weeds, but Beau was a seasoned woodsman and didn't take no mind of it. But these weren't no ordinary wolves huntin rabbits. No sirree, they certainly were anything but normal and though he didn't know it yet, Beau's humble and happy life was soon to be rudely overturned by the wild werewolves out a-prowlin that night.
Suprisingly Beau survived the initial assault, though he was badly mauled by the maelstrom of teeth and claws that assaulted him all of a sudden, a terrifying howl ripping the air as the thing leaped unexpected from the edges of the campfire's illumination. Now, Beau's size and natural vitality saved him from the fast death that is the more typical result of a werewolf attack but he would surely have been a dead man in another few seconds if a Hunter who had been tracking the werewolf pack hadn't caught up just then in the proverbial nick of time, filling the mangy monster full of silver shot and slaying it on the spot.
The Hunter, a gruff man who only called himself McBael, patched Beau up and kept him from dyin. Later, while Beau was laid up at the hospital for observation, McBael showed up and had a reckoning with him, talkin some crazy sounding stuff about werewolves and monsters and what not. Beau was no man's fool and wouldn't have believed such tall sounding tales if not for the fact that he had seen a monster for himself, much too close up and personal to deny the legitimacy of what the old man was sayin. McBael also told Beau that he was probably infected by the wolfspoor, and would know soon enough come the next full moon. He cautioned Beau to lock himself up someplace remote for the duration of the new moon, and to have a ready supply of raw meat handy to sate any cravings he might develop for tasty flesh.
Disheartened, Beau took the old man's counsel to heart and went to great pains a month later to lock himself up in the barn of an abandoned farmstead, with a couple of dead deers Beau had hunted down, a cooler full of beer, and a camp stove for company. As McBael had predicted Beau did inded turn, and as it turned out he didn't have much need for the camp stove that particular trip. After his ordeal was done, Beau sat outside his makeshift prison on an old log pile, staring up at the cloud-covered moon and feelin a little down on his luck. Old man McBael made a third appearance and calmly sat down beside Beau, and Beau couldn't help but notice the high-powered rifle across his lap and he realized the grisly Hunter had been out in the woodsline the whole time, just in case, rifle at the ready.
After that McBael took Beau under his wing. They didn't talk much, verbally, but they got on just fine. And when the old man did speak Beau was sure to listen; and so he learned from McBael how to control his inner wolf, to stave off his turning as long as possible and to hold on to his humanity with a tireless grip. He also learned how to Hunt, and helped McBael bring down more than twenty wild weres, and a few other kinds of monsters along the way. When McBael finally fell, pulled down by a Daemonic servant of a Warlock, a little bit of Beau died as well. Beau wolfed out in a bloody rage and avenged his crusty old mentor that night, though it shames him to think about it, and continues to fight on in McBaels memory today.
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Beau is the kind of man that always tries to do the right thing...especially when its not easy. Monsters that harm folk need to be put down, same as a rabid dog or wolf, and that's all there is to it.
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"Looks like its gonna be a full moon tonight...not lookin forward to that much."
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Beau is a skilled woodsy, and quite comfortable in forests and rural areas where he's favored prey, wild lycanthropes, dwell. He's a decent shot with his hunting rifle, and he always makes sure to have a few silver bullets handy.
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Beau is a competent hunter, skilled and capable in rural areas. And if things get really bad, he's got something a little extra to fall back on to see him through the rough spots. Word of his deeds and dedication has been spreading, and despite his relatively young age Beau has a fair amount of credibility among Hunters in the Campaign region and a little beyond. He's particularly well known as a resource for those hunting rogue werewolves.
Beau resists the taint within him constantly, and is not very progressed in what for him is a slow and gradual transformation into a full-on werewolf. He can take on a more feral aspect at will, and change back at will, but every time he does he he's giving in just a little bit and doing it too often will surely result in him becoming more wolfish. When the full moon is out he will almost certainly change (Accidental Change Complication) and stay changed while the moon is out, but he has mastered his personality and isn't a danger to others (unless he wants to be). Beau is not infectious himself as he is not a true-born werewolf, but any child he might father likely would be born a true werewolf.
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