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Mythrell · (This post was last modified: 18-02-2014, 08:28 AM by Mythrell.)

Name: Malcom

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Height: 6'0"
Physique: Slightly stocky, wide shoulders.
Eye Colour: Blue and hard, but they aren't cold.
Hair: Short black hair, mildly spiky from not being washed as much as it should. Roughly cut.
Face: His eyes are a deep blue and hard. He typically has a scowl unless it's a dead pan stare. Seeing him smile is something to mark on a calendar.
Skin: Not tan, not pale.
Distinguishing marks: Scars up and down his arms and across his torso and back.
Usually wears: A dark blue shirt with long sleeves that lead into gloves. His pants are leather and lead, again, directly into his boots. He typically wears a grey cloak for cold weather or blending in to buildings at night.

General State of Mind: A swirling maelstrom of anger, a desire for vengeance, and a need to atone for past wrongs.

Family:
Family, that's a pretty word. What's it mean?

Home:
He doesn't have one. Stop asking questions.

Personality:
-Respect is his most valuable commodity.
-Respect must be earned, it is not given.
-Reputation only gets you so far with Malcolm.
-Quick to anger, but slow to violence.
-Hates most types of elected officials with a fierce passion, this does not include those that work with their hands and happen to have been elected.
-Everything must be bought and paid for, nothing is free.
-He might be crooked, but he's honest.

Positive character traits:
-Honest
-Easy to read.
-If you win his respect, it's hard to lose.
-Not violent.

Neutral character traits:
-Everything can be bought, for a price.
-Getting him to do anything also has a price.
-It's almost impossible for him to make friends.
-Hates being owed or owing anything.

Negative character traits:
-His respect can almost not be earned.
-Has a dislike of anyone that doesn't work with their hands.
-Is distrustful of anyone acting too friendly.
-Acts quickly and without thinking on a regular basis when dealing with people.

Interests:
-Arguing with people.
-Helping people, this is counter-productive to how he deals with people.

Goals:
-Revenge
-Learning to be more proficient with weapons.

Skills:
Bare knuckle brawling.
Basic forging, specializing in swords and chains.
Gambling and sleight of hand.

Items:
Deck of cards, contains two of each ace.
Wool cloak, grey.
Worn shirt, dark blue.
Pants, leather.

Relationships:

Spoiler

Backstory:

Spoiler

Malcom was his name. A gentleman of the streets, if you will. He was a rough and tumble kind of character and never could back down from a challenge. He spoke slowly, and slurred his voice, but those that knew him listened well and no one ever second guessed him. He was confident and fair, although he did make his money as a con-man. Born about twenty three years ago, Malcom grew up on the streets. He had the respect of many, but the friendship of few. His early years consisted of working in the tavern he was found in with a bottle of spiked milk under a table.

The tavern was in a city where everything was dark and the shady side of town was the only side of town. He worked hard, and was beaten more often than he will admit, but he kept his head down and found something that piqued his interest, the luck of the cards. As a simple serving boy, no one payed him any mind, so he watched as men fought and died over what happened on that table, all over the way the cards were laid. He saw some men cheat, and saw those same men beaten or killed. He saw some people play honorably, and saw them lose their life savings to those that weren't above a little bit of man-made luck.

The random chance and the potential for gain drew Malcom like a moth to a fire. At the age of sixteen, Malcom left the tavern and bought himself a pack of cards, and learned how to make them twirl and dance, so as to make all but the most skilled gamblers unable to see his tricks. It was all going perfectly, he had a source of income, but he was still lonely, he didn't have a single friend. Someone with his luck wasn't welcomed into many circles more than once, so he went on the road, moving from city to city, wherever he could find a card game. There were some incidents where people doubted his honesty, so he was forced to flee for his life, but always the allure of conning another mark drew him back in. All of this changed, the day that he met someone named Jesse.

The two were sitting at a high stakes poker game, and both flipped four aces on the final hand. Malcom had finally met his match. The two ran together, watching each others backs in whatever seedy side of town they found themselves in. Of course, like all stories, it had to end somewhere, this time, in a large town named Domina. Malcom managed to swindle a huge sum of money from a powerful man named Gerrard, an official of Domina, although he failed to notice at the time. A hit was put out on Malcom, and Jesse was unable to resist. One moment, Malcom was sleeping off a hangover in a back alley, the next he was being drug through a series of warehouses, until he was thrown into a deep prison, a place where the victim, or their punishments, were never meant to see the light of day. Luck had finally caught up with him, the day before he turned eighteen.

There were other prisoners with Malcom, and they spent their time planning revenge on the people that had put them their, a favorite saying of the prisoners was “ain’t got nothin’ but time to plan." Malcom met a few people in the locker that he believed could help him, an engineer with a skill in crafting weaponry who had betrayed Gerrard by making faulty weaponry and an Xitian demolitionist who had fought on the wrong side of a skirmish during the civil war.

For four years Malcom and his group of friends suffered in that hell hole, and Malcom thought of every horrible thing he could do to Jesse to make up for it. Punishments were frequent, and when he wasn't being tortured, he was forced to work in the prison's forge. The smoke filled room and close quarters with no ventilation was punishment enough, but if the guards found his work to be lacking, the next round of punishments would be worse. Pain was an effective teacher, and he slowly learned the blacksmiths craft, nothing fancy, but he could forge a blade and shackles. For four years he planned his escape and for four years he suffered ghastly punishments. Occasionally a healer with light blue eyes would be called in to heal the wounds of the prisoners, just so that they cold have another round of suffering. Malcom was forced into doing things he'll never talk about in that prison, but he managed to formulate a plan of escape.

The demolitionist was doused in water every hour to prevent him from using his innate powers to escape, so Malcom and the engineer had to dry him off and avoid the guards notice, and allow him to quickly dig a tunnel up and out, into freedom. At last his plan for escape came through, Malcom, the engineer, and the demolitionist managed to dry the Xitian off enough where he could once again use his powers over earth and fire and made a break for it. The prisoner's guards were only human and couldn't keep up. Arrows rained down upon the trio as they ran up a tunnel being dug out by the Xitian, Malcom took an arrow to the leg but managed to keep going. More than a few guards were killed in the escape, and Malcom killed more than his fair share. Brutally crushing a man's skull and using the limp body to slow pursuers. Things no one would want to discuss.

When they reached the surface, the citizens were amazed to see three ragged men emerge from a hole in the ground being chased by men in uniform. Officers of the law quickly arrived and tried to take Malcom and his crew into custody for questioning, but a little bit of running and shoving managed to let them escape without being taken back in. The engineer led the trio to a workshop where he gave Malcom a large crossbow, then Malcom took his leave, there was no reason for them to remain together, Malcom had one last thing to do before he went after Jesse.

He returned to Domina, and sought out Gerrard. Malcom met him in a dark alley, after leaving a message, telling that he knew where his fellow escapees were. Driven by rage for the loss of three of his most hated prisoners, Gerrard was glad to agree to the meeting. Gerrard walked into the alley, flanked by two guards, ready for anything. However, the guards Gerrard brought weren't enough, as Malcom emerged from a doorway and drove a bolt from the massive crossbow straight into Gerrard's skull from no more than three feet away. Malcom dropped the crossbow and ran, there was no way he could hold on to it and escape from the guards once more. Domina was a closed city to him, he was now wanted by both Gerrard's men and by the local militia. Malcom flew to the only place that he knew accepted outlaw's like him, the Forbidden Lands. He grabbed a deck of cards on his way out and managed to gamble for passage on a boat taking him to Alrock, some nowhere town where he hoped to escape notice. Malcom knew that Jesse would have to flee to the Forbidden Lands, and that when he did, Malcom would be waiting.

Lyrics I'm still working on finding a better song.

Spoiler