Name: Apollos
Player: Michael Beard
Aliases: many names and aliases, some but not all included below

Titus (Latin) - 2 Cor. 2:13 – pleasing.
Thaddaeus (Aramaic) - Matt. 10:3 - that praises or confesses.
Gideon (Hebrew) - Judges 6:11 - he that bruises or breaks; a destroyer.
Apollos (Greek) - Acts 18:24 - one who destroys; destroyer.
Date of Birth: 1970
Date of Embrace: 1993
Country of Origin: Israel
Clan: Mekhet
Covenant: Lancea Sanctum, Ordo Dracul Infiltrator
Bloodline: Assamite
Notable Features: Hard to remember (Occultation 3)
Titles: none
City Status: none
Clan Status: recognized
Covenant Status: Lancea Sanctum recognized, Ordo Dracul recognized
Lineage: No childer, but my sires name was Chase.
Background Information:
From the beginning of this world there has been a profession that persists no matter what ruler or form of leadership exists within a governance. Prostitution is that profession, but while it would be funny for me to continue this record of time addressing a most prevalent profession it in truth is not what I want to address. Second to that is a mercenary, a sell sword, or a assassin, no matter what it is called people have sold their services of death for money or resource. It has constantly proven to be needed no matter what the place in history many countries exist and still exist to this day, from the hiring of mercenaries. The American wars in the middle east have been fought with two mercenary per everyone one U.S. Soldier that is fielded, it is known for guerrilla warlords in Africa to hire men to fight for their cause, even stooping to such a low as to abduct children and brainwashing them into being child warriors to fight for zealous rulers personal beliefs and own personal wars or power and resource gain. In history it was normal for rulers to fight their champions against one another to gain each others fealty as is shown in modern depictions of historical wars such as the movie troy. A lot can be explained or addressed to have you see that this career is needed and has had its place in every major conflict since the creation of war itself. Modern day depictions of these individuals are seen in prevalence in the action hero genre of movies, in sci-fi movies, also as I had explained earlier in modern day renditions of historical war movies like Spartans (300) or ninjas (ninja assassin). No matter the movie watched or current or past historical reference that is explained, the subject of death and war exists and as such those people who choose to be part of this historical or modern war machine exist. The story that follows is the personal history of one such individual who chose this path and will continue the task handed down from one individual to another from the beginning.
He had started the beginning learning his prayers and understanding where he stood in reverence to his father, his family, and most of all his god. This god is known as Allah or the one true god, which translated from Arabic is the word God. He was a Muslim who practiced the belief of the five pillars which are core to his belief passed down from his family.
Shahadah is the professing of monotheism and accepting of Muhammadas God'smessenger. The shahadah is a set statement normally recited in Arabic: ašhadu an lā ilāha illá l-Lāhu (wa ashhadu 'anna) Muḥammadan rasūlu l-Lāhi" I testify that there is no god except Allah and (I testify that) Muhammad is the messenger of God." Reciting this statement is a key part in a person's conversion to Islam.
Zakat or alms-giving is the practice of charitable giving by Muslims based on accumulated wealth, and is obligatory for all who are able to do so. It is considered to be a personal responsibility for Muslims to ease economic hardship for others and eliminate inequality.Zakat consists of spending 2.5% of one's wealth for the benefit of the poor or needy, including slaves, debtors and travelers. A Muslim may also donate more as an act of voluntary charity (//sadaqah//), rather than to achieve additional divine reward.There are two main types of Zakat. First, there is the kajj, which is a fixed amount There are five principles that should be followed when giving the Zakat:
1.The giver must declare to God his intention to give the Zakat.
2.The Zakat must be paid on the day that it is due.
3. After the Offering, the payer must not exaggerate on spending his money more than usual means.
4.Payment must be in kind. This means if one is wealthy then he or she needs to pay 2.5% of their income. If a person does not have much money, then they should compensate for it in different ways, such as good deeds and good behavior toward others.
5. The Zakat must be distributed in the community from which it was taken.

Three types of fasting (Sawm) are recognized by the Qur'an: Ritual fasting,fasting as compensation for repentance (both from suraAl-Baqara),and ascetic fasting (from Al-Ahzab).
Ritual fasting is an obligatory act during the month of Ramadan.Muslims must abstain from food and drink from dawn to dusk during this month, and are to be especially mindful of other sins.Fasting is necessary for every Muslim that has reached puberty (unless he/she suffers from a medical condition which prevents him/her from doing so.)
The fast is meant to allow Muslims to seek nearness to God, to express their gratitude to and dependence on him, atone for their past sins, and to remind them of the needy.During Ramadan, Muslims are also expected to put more effort into following the teachings of Islam by refraining from violence, anger, envy, greed, lust, profane language, gossip and to try to get along with fellow Muslims better. In addition, all obscene and irreligious sights and sounds are to be avoided.
Fasting during Ramadan is obligatory, but is forbidden for several groups for whom it would be very dangerous and excessively problematic. These include pre-pubescent children, those with a medical condition such as diabetes, elderly people, and pregnantor breastfeedingwomen. Observing fasts is not permitted for menstruating women. Other individuals for whom it is considered acceptable not to fast are those who are ill or traveling. Missing fasts usually must be made up for soon afterward, although the exact requirements vary according to circumstance.
The Hajj is a pilgrimagethat occurs during the Islamic monthof Dhu al-Hijjahto the holy city of Mecca. Every able-bodiedMuslim is obliged to make the pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in their lifetime .When the pilgrim is around 10km (6.2 mi) from Mecca, he must dress in Ihram clothing, which consists of two white sheets. Both men and women are required to make the pilgrimage to Mecca. After a Muslim makes the trip to Mecca he/she is known as a hajj/hajja(one who made the pilgrimage to Mecca).The main rituals of the Hajj include walking seven times around the Kaaba, touching the Black Stone, traveling seven times between Mount Safa and Mount Marwah, and symbolically stoning the Devilin Mina.
The pilgrim, or the haji, is honoured in the Muslim community. Islamic teachers say that the Hajj should be an expression of devotion to God, not a means to gain social standing. The believer should be self-aware and examine their intentions in performing the pilgrimage. This should lead to constant striving for self-improvement.A pilgrimage made at any time other than the Hajj season is called an //Umrah//, and while not mandatory is strongly recommended. Also, they make a pilgrimage to the holy city of Jerusalem in their alms giving feast.
Living such a life was not just what he believed but it was who he was, the same as his family before him. Its hard not be believe things from an extremist point of view especially when your family takes such an extremist stance, his father to be described plainly was a “political extremist” prone to joining in actions against injustice to his heritage and his belief. A view from the outside, mostly westerners called people like my father terrorists even though they may not have understood what exactly the point of my fathers action were. This has been prevalent through history, and as such I would not be raised any different. My father after a time realized how his actions of youth might eventually bring suffering onto his children especially after he was taken to a prison for several years while I was still an infant. So he gathered what resource he could an brought his family and children to another land. We traveled into Africa in hopes to escape my fathers past and for a time it worked. As the years passed I became a young boy no older then eight or nine, and that is when the worst happened. It was not people that were from my fathers past but in my families need to flee we traveled to places not safe to any.
I was abducted by a group of radical African extremists who needed warriors but because no men were willing to follow under their banner for long or would die, they had resorted to the abduction of young boys to fill their ranks. For a year I was subjected to the worse mental and physical torture one could imagine, the children were constantly thrust into scenario's to prove themselves to their superiors. They would execute a child to make the children even more afraid and follow without fear, they would make the children consume drugs to overcome their psychological fears and physical shortcomings. They would force us to torture innocent people that were found in places we would raid, we would also be in charge of the executions when the torturing was done.
I was fifteen when it all came to an end but it was by the assumed death that should have been delivered to me for my crimes, I was rescued after a raid by white soldiers against the warlord I served under. He was executed publicly and we were treated as miracles of life, we were strong they said, we were survivors. The white soldiers tried to help us but most of us were to far gone into the psychological torment that we had been subjected to. The next few years was a constant interaction with therapists, psychologists, and every doctor that believed they had something to offer, but as time went on they realized that nothing could be done for most of us. We would spend the rest of our lives suffering from our demons, and most of us were eventually sent to asylums to continue being tested and treated. They were called hospitals but we all knew they were prisons, and it wasn't just us there it was for children prone to derangement and violence. In truth it wasn't much better given the failures and abuses in the prison system prevalent around the world, but at least the death that occurred wasn't open warfare but deaths similar to those that happened in adult prisons. Gangs formed and alliances were made and death was always on the table cause none of those present ever expected to be set free. It was a deranged, horrible, violent, lord of the flies scenario and it was only brought to close because I showed myself to be smart, disciplined, and willing to do what was necessary to exist. My road to freedom started as what would be thought to be derangement that took a weird turn.
It started as a whisper in the night, which I at first thought was the child in the next cell so I didn’t listen, but it continued each night until I listened. Exercise, it said, what why? I replied, but there was no response, why are you talking to me I said as I rose from my bed to poke my head near the bars looking as close as I could to the next cell but there as no response. So the next night, when I had heard it I was already standing near the bars. Except I realized that it was not coming from the direction of the cells next to me, but from directly in front of my cell I stared forward trying to hear or see anything but I saw nothing. Then I felt a hand brush my hair across my forehead gently very similar to how my mother had done. Listen my child I heard, the words sounding identical to the way my mother had spoken them. Mother I said softly, but I heard no response so I sat there until I decided that no matter how unreal this could be I would listen. So I started that night, exercising until my muscles hurt. Again the voice came to me the next night sounding just as sweet so I listened and did the same for every night following. It was strange that each night when I would her the voice I would see in my head what exercise I should perform as though they had been their the whole time. My nights continued and I would ear the voice and find things in my room that had not been there before, books of all sorts appeared so I would read them in between exercises and just as swiftly as they would appear they would disappear just as quick and new book would be laying in its place. My night dreams as I came to call them were so real and my body and mind were growing stronger, so there was some truth to them. But I never spoke of them to my therapists, for fear that they would be brought to an end, as though they were testing my mind with every opportunity they could.
These lessons happened for many months until finally the voice spoke again and this time I swore it was my mother. You must do something for me my child, “what is it?” I said out loud, waiting for a response. My child you must be very strong because a man is going to be coming here to your prison, he is an evil man, he will hurt you if you let him. You must not let him, here is a weapon, and a prison style shiv appeared upon the table near the cell bars. I will show you how to use this weapon to defend yourself, and so for that evening and the evenings that followed I learned how to use this weapon. I grew to understand where a killing blow should be delivered, where a wound could be made that would not be able to be healed.
So a few weeks later after many therapist discussions one of the counselors spoke to me about a very special man that wanted to meet me, “meet me?” I questioned. Yes, the counciler told me because I was very special and he wanted to meet me and a few others. I pretended to be excited while the counciler shared with me how when we meet this man hes going to ask us some questions but hes also going to give us treats like ice cream for being so good, I would get to meet this man tomorrow.
That night the voice spoke to me reminding me of my task, and I saw his face in my mind as though I knew him. My mother that night started to cry softly as she explained it all to me, I wondered if she was afraid I was going to be hurt but she didn’t say anything else about it. She said one last time, I love you, and she left.
The next day started as every other day with the normal schedule being followed until right after lunch an announcement rang out across the facility and several people where escorted out of the room, including me.
We where brought to a place I had never been to before and we were given clothes to change into, clothes very similar to the normal street clothes someone might wear even though they all looked strange still. I had made sure to hide my weapon very well and so I had no fears when I changed into the clothes. Then when we finished we were lead into a very large office, several people where inside most of them wearing suits. All of them adults other then us I scanned my eyes across the room but didn’t see any faces I recognized other then the councilors. But then with a few brief words someone introduced a man they called by some special title and then a very militantly dressed man with dark skin entered into the room . Awe, he said as he entered with a booming voice, these are the children? “Yes” someone responded to him, “let us see how they are fairing then” he responded. So then he spent several minutes looking over each one of us until he said they look so much better. Then it hit me all at once I had seen his face before, this was the man that in our service to our general had been called the grand general, this was the man we child soldiers had served. Finally he decided that he wished to speak to each one separately so he left to another room and over the next hour or so each child was called into the room, then finally I was called in.
Ah, he said as I entered, so good to see you are seemingly doing better. I looked at him and didn’t speak, he continued talking speaking of how I liked it here how I had been treated but I said nothing. He continued speaking and asking questions until he realized that I had not answered one question. Why child? He spoke, why do you not tell me the answers I seek. So I continued not speaking until finally I motioned over the him to step close so he did, and I whispered that his guards scare me. He laughed and motioned for them to leave which they did with a chuckle, so then we started talking and I feigned ignorance to most of it, until i finally responded with a sentence that stopped him in his tracks. I know who you are, and I know what you did. He looked at me shocked and then anger filled his eyes he called me a fury of names and then stepped towards me about to hit me, my palms were sweaty but my hand held firm. My mind was racing but I had surety in purpose and I brought my hand up in an instant the his neck right were the shoulder meets the neck, a blow that could not be healed. His eyes went blank and he slapped me with the last of his strength, he called for his guards while I threw my weapon out the window, I went to the couch jumped over and behind it and started to mutter and speak nonsense while cradling my body and rocking back and forth as I had been instructed. He screamed with the last of his energy and his guards flew into the room in a panic. They ran to him seeing the blood and freaked out coming towards me but the doctors flew in at the same minute looking shocked.
For the next week I was questioned constantly without an end, I wasn't even allowed to sleep. They had asked how I had done it, with what, why, questions and questions and questions. It became all a dull roar as I had no answer. There was no end to it, I was finally placed into solitary and was left there for weeks. It was my new hell, I had made something I thought couldn't get worse into something far worse. No food, no water, tortures by mental scrutiny and questioning. The one night I heard a click and my door opened but no one was there.

That’s how my training started, for seven years I was trained and tested to be a warrior to unknown masters. Thinking all the while I was serving the same army of the leader I had killed. Until I was ghouled and brought into the fold of knowledge, I was then tested for even years as a ghoul all the while performing missions. Killing men and monster alike, all the while being threatened by constant death. Then I was made into one of them and served for seven more years as a child to the blood, continuing to prove myself to my masters of the blood. That is is how I became assamite, and from those 21 years I learned my strength and limitations and to what purpose I serve. But the most interesting thing was something that was explained to me after my training was completed, that I had been groomed from the beginning and yet was never meant to become assamite.
She was the assamite that had pretended to be my mother in the jail so long ago and had trained me to kill a African warlord so it would never lead back to her. But over the months she trained me I had reminded her of someone dear to her and so the fact that I had been sent to suffer death to assist her without knowing it, had weighed on her conscious. After the cruelties I had suffered which she saw in my mind she did not feel right about her actions after the deed was done. But she was not the person that made the decisions on who got to be brought into the fold to be trained. So she entered into a life boon with her elder saying that this child which she had picked would serve him well and that he would grant the child training and should the child fail her life would be his to take. Though she had only removed me from some of the devastation of my life the twenty-one years of training were not better and in some ways worse but at least I was given a choice for survival and was not going to be executed for the chaos I sowed but rewarded for it. In the end her master did give me the blessing of the blood and I was brought into the fold of their sacred and old lineage.
So now fifteen years later I seek to return to his service after serving others of our blood on another Continental, I have been told he does not remember much from his past and that he has taken a new name. He is now called by the name of Smiley, so much has changed maybe in a way I can help to return him to his memories and the foundation of leadership he had been for our blood,