Savitar

A magical island that moves around the world to various places, especially where there are the best waves. The island is filled with his pets, a modest hut he only uses to sleep in and store food, a gigantic shed full of different surfboards and surfing equipment, and lots and lots of sand.

Full name Savitarius, though most people do not know it. Everyone calls him Savitar, minus a select few that call him Sav.

The Omegrion:

Eons ago, an individual approached each of the patrias and told them that they must each elect a representative to come and make laws and judgments that would govern all the Weres the world over. At first, they balked until they realized that Savitar wasn’t the type of man to take no for an answer.

Only the strongest of the strong ever make it to this level. These are our undisputed leaders and they speak on behalf of every member of their patria. The only way for them to lose their seat is by death…

The council decides when an individual clan should be disbarred or destroyed. They also oversee setting up sanctuaries and havens. Most of all, they are charged with judging individuals Slayers and calling out a blood hunt to see them dead.

Savitar oversees this council, literally and figuratively. He can veto any decision and place judgement upon any that violate his core tenants, however, he tends to let them make their own choices and mistakes. Great things are born from struggle after all.

"I live to surf and if you want to live, you won't interfere with my surfing"

"Demons are a man's best friend."

"He's lucky he's not a stain on the floor."

"I only love two people in this world, and you're not one of them."

"I don't need a weapon to turn you into paste."

Cold. Aloof. Seemingly uncaring, but that isn't the case. Fair. Impartial in most cases. Believes in justice and retribution as long as it doesn't interfere with surfing time. Mostly quiet. Usually drinking but incapable of getting drunk or even tipsy. Duty-bound and determined. Secretly soft for a select few people. Loves animals but doesn't show it in front of most people. Secretive. Mysterious. Blase. Slow and languid. Unhurried. Deeply scarred and wounded internally. Holds massive amounts of anger and volatility, held back expertly by that aloof facade. Self-imposed isolationist for the most part. Incredibly wise, due to age and everything he has seen.

6 foot 8 inches of tightly corded muscle and tanned skin covered in various tattoos. Dark hair that reaches just long enough to fall over his eyes if he leans forward. Eyes change color according to his moods, but are most often settled in a calm and aloof lavender. Typically dressed in swim trunks and stereotypical surfer outfits. Doesn't need sunglasses but often has them anyways, either sitting atop his head or tucked into the front of his shirt. Only ever in sandals, other shoes are a bane to his existence, he's even barefoot half the time unless he has official business.