Name: Arastoph “Middle Man” Xylem
Gender: Male, AMAB
Race: Human (supposedly)
Class: Merchant (trades, invests, entrepreneurs; also sort of cross-trained as a rogue)
Appearance: Middleman is a tall, lanky man who stands at 6'3” and weighs at 143 lbs. His body isn't particularly toned or muscled, and he doesn't possess much fat. You would expect a little more fitness from him by the way he carries himself with his upright posture and proper poise. With this posture, he also holds his head high and chin up, as though taking a glance at anyone was beneath him, or that his status was something too great to behold amongst the like of commoners. His skin is pale and lacks much of a hue to it. There isn't a whole lot of visible scarring on his body, although you would see it upon close inspection of his hands, knees, and feet from his childhood days. He walks patiently as though he were pacing and taking his time, mulling over whatever thoughts he has in quiet contemplation.
His gaunt face reflects his body's long and thin demeanor. Along with it, there is a various number of sharp features. His cheekbones are high and pronounced, and the cheeks themselves somewhat sunked in comparison. A long, sharp nose bridge comes down to form a beak-shaped nose, and beneath that are laugh lines which surrounds his thin-lipped mouth. His chin is sharp and angular, and is rather big all things considered. Above his nose are intense steel-gray eyes (which is little more than a dull blue) constantly following you, and the eyes themselves are sunken with the bottom side of his sockets forming what appears to be bags beneath his eyes, but are actually the outline of the bone in his face. This is bordered by long, thin eyebrows that curve gently over his eyes. On the sides of his head, his ears possess attached ear lobes and are left unpierced.
Middleman has a pretty big forehead, it would seem, but seems to do more in highlighting his hairline; a sharp widow's peak is formed in the center of his head. Long, black, and silky hair falls down around his shoulder blades and is always kept nice and neat – free of oil and is carefully combed so that it drapes gently over his shoulders. His hair is not often frizzy and manages weather well. Usually during intense activity can you see his hair bunching up and getting out of place and messy. On his chin he has a soul patch, long enough that it barely comes a half-inch off his face.
His clothes are fancily made and tailored to fit his body. He often wears long-sleeved undershirts, of which there is no particular color that he chooses over the other, but in the case of where we will start the roleplay, it will be defaulted to a plum color – a rich, dark purple. Over this, Middleman wears a padded black doublet. The chest of which is puffed out, making him appear as though he is a bigger man than he really is, and has buttons crawling from the bottom to the top, just below his chin, and conceals any and all parts of his neck. There is also an insignia embroidered into the doublet, resemblant to a Rub el Hizb, or two overlapping squares with a circle in the middle (۞ ).
With his doublet, there are what's essentially shoulder pads, largely resembling armor pauldrons in a way, and is made with a tough, hardened cloth, but no leather or metal is in the stitching of it. Along it are two grooves and, closer to the neck, it is bordered off by a length of smooth rope; apparently more for the decoration of the clothing article than anything. The doublet ends at his biceps and isn't particularly fancy or decorated, and has simply two gray stripes on opposite sides. Over his waist is a brown leather belt, with a number of buckles and contraptions meant for carrying any number of devices, such as his holster for a dragoon. On the other side is his stiletto sheath. The buckle that it attaches it to his belt is a special little thing that when you press a little button to the side, it unlocks and is able to spin, and locks again when it rotates 180 degrees. This allows the stiletto handle to point either upward or downward, and can be situationally useful, assuming the situation calls for subtlety.
His pants doesn't have the same kind of elaborate setup like the rest of his attire does. They are a pair of unassuming black wool jodhpurs, hand spun and knitted. They have all that he requires: comfort, practicality, fashion, and deep pockets. The bottom cuffs are tucked into knee-high black leather boots where laces and conchos go from the ankles up to the top of his boots. However, much of his appearance is hidden by a hooded gray cloak. Buttons crawl on either side of the cape to keep it from billowing and revealing his body, and has a number of pockets inside to store a lovely amount of whatever he needs. He also possesses a wooden mask, which he mostly uses when interacting in underworld business. It is unimpressive for the most part, and has two eye holes carved into it and a space for his nose to fit. Black horse hair has been sewn into the top of the mask.
Personality: Cunning, intelligent, conniving, deceiving, charming; there is a number of ways to describe the merchant, and it is difficult to pinpoint exactly what is truth and what is a guise. At Middleman's core, he is unscrupulous and not necessarily bound by any moral constraints. He doesn't take up issue doing what he can to get what he wants and to survive, but has the foresight and wisdom to not do anything rash if it is too risky. Neither does he break the laws of the land for the sake of breaking them. He prefers to work within the legalities, but if the legalities come to be too restricting to obtain a particular necessity, he would bend or break it without hesitating. It almost seems as if he has come to believe as if the rules do not apply to him; with the money and power he possesses, that may very well be the case.
His money and power aren't the most powerful virtues he possesses, though; cunning and wit supplies him the know-how to properly utilized those tools to his greatest advantage. In a world of people going off adventuring, farmers, miners, peasants; a number of people living their lives without formal education, Middleman stands out in the crowd by having taken the bull by the horns and taking his education for himself. A formal, top-of-the-line education without noble blood. So he knows a great deal about the general maths and sciences, history, literacy, politics, some religion, and of course mercantilism. He possesses a brain made for thinking things through and thinking outside the box. He can quickly process what goes on around him, but prefers to take it slowly. So his cunning and witty demeanor is derived from this, allowing him to formulate plots and machinations that'd be out of the realm of a typical peasant.
Middleman is a very ambitious and self-driven man. However, his motivation isn't benevolent or malicious, if just uninspiring. Half of it is just the curiosity of how far can he get, if the mountain is endless or eventually plateaus off. The other half is to convince himself and the world of his worth. He has his own personal secret that he attempts to hide, even from himself. He sees it as a crutch that holds him back, and is the aspect of himself that he hates – and self-loathing is a very painful experience for a man as selfish and self-absorbed as he – but at the same time, attempts to embrace. He tries to take it and use it as his reason for his superiority and his success. After a period of time, he has come to succeed in convincing himself of this. As a result, he has come to view most – if not all – other people with inferiority, treating the rest of mankind with contempt and revulsion.
You wouldn't know it by looking upon him, though. Middleman is still a trader, and a sly one at that. He can put on a front that can leave you wondering which man is the real man. His front his charming, polite, and hospitable, which betrays the sense of danger and unease most people receive from him. This sophistication augments his skills of persuasion and negotiation, sensitively picking the right words to change your mind on a dime, or perhaps using his articulate nature for more insidious means such as intimidation; selectively applying the right words to get crawling under your skin and playing off of your fears. If there is one thing we have to hand to him, however, is that he is efficient. While not all of his contracts are necessarily “fair” he doesn't cheat. At least, not if the other party doesn't have it coming to them. He feels that, if you're good at what you do, it is easier to be honest than to cheat. While not an emotional guy, he does form bonds with what is “his”. If you threaten his business, or his associates, or whatever he considers “his”, he takes it as a threat and wouldn't waste a second in removing you. It is because of this trait of his that many traders and workers and smugglers seek his protection.
Main-Hand Weapon: A dragoon, or blunderbuss pistol decorated with brass. The butt has a brass cap designed so that it appears to be a man with curly hair and a beard, and resembles Greek artwork.
Off-hand Weapon: A stiletto.
Secondary Weapon: A wide array of poisons and drugs hidden amongst his person. Some of them are probably illegal.
Armor: Cloth, albeit his clothes are padded and thick, and provides some additional protection - negligible though it is.
Powers: The power of money, my friend!
Skills:Mercantilism: A skilled trader knows how to negotiate, persuade, or even manipulate all but the toughest of customers! A masterful trader can make all those he encounters believe that whatever s/he is selling is worth the price. Many a talent falls under mercantilism, and many of them can carry over even to typical social environments. On top of his ability to persuade and negotiate, Middleman is skilled at appraisal; determining the value of an item upon inspection.
Strategic: Any good trader knows to look into the future to determine when the proper time to make their move is. A cunning trader of Middleman's caliber can plan the movements of his whole cartel while determining the movements of his competition. This carries over even in tactical circumstances in the midst of a battle – though his specialty clearly lies in psychological warfare.
Knowledge (Underworld): The dark side of society is a filthy one. Middleman knows almost there is to know about it with his many years of professional business in the shadows. His network of connections is so extensive, his connections have connections. If you want something shady done, talk to Middleman. If he can't help you, surely he knows somebody who can. His network also provides him with a large-scale spy network, and can find out a great many things for a price.
Weaknesses:Non-combat: Some martial training from a lord, but neither of them are really suited for fighting battles. The most he can do is to utilize some effective tools to do all the work and get the job done, but his actual prowess is laughable.
Reliant: Even though he grew up with a rough childhood, he was hardly in tune with his survival instincts. He has lived most his life relying on his resources and wealth to provide for him. Without protection and his resources, he doesn't possess the necessary skills that allows him to survive on his own for a long time.
History: To be upfront about an excluded detail, Middleman was born half-tiefling. Regular tieflings are rumored to be half-demon, which would mean that the merchant's blood is 25% demonic. Naturally, this would call for a rough, bumpy upbringing. Middleman was the product of a violent raping of a women in a small village inflicted by a runaway criminal tiefling who had followingly fled the scene and retreated off into the wilderness, never to be seen again. A broken woman was left feeling violated and powerless behind her own shack of a home. Unexpectedly, she had become pregnant – an ill omen for her, who detested the idea of one of those
things growing inside her womb, but too afraid of pain to take her own life or to abort the fetus.
Middleman was born seemingly human despite the blood that ran through him, although his health as a baby was shaky. The mother, despite looking upon the child with shame at every glance, could not bring herself to kill him or abandon him. The baby had looked too human, not enough like his bastard father, for her to hate him like she did the tiefling. This did not, however, mean her shame and disappointment waned over the years as she took care of the child of dirtied blood. He was granted a name that'd mark him as an outsider, something so radically different from typical people, “Arastoph”, and he bore the surname of the tiefling, “Xylem”.
Living in a small village, not much remains secret for very long. Even as a young'n, Middlement was subjugated to the torment of the villagers. Even mothers, who had set an example for their children, who had soon followed suit. Even at home couldn't he find refuge, for he was a shameful creation in his mother's eyes. During these years, a seed of contempt and disregard for mankind had been planted in the boy, even weak as he was.
The village's main source of income came from fishing, as they were situated next to an inlet. Along the coast docks were fisheries and warehouses. It was in one of these warehouses did a 13 year old Middleman eavesdrop on some sailors who were smuggling goods in and out. One night, he found the illegal drug that they had been whispering about, and hurried off back home.
There, the following night, he poisoned his mother with a paralytic and hallucinatory drug by spiking the dinner bowl. Unable to move or scream for help, she again helplessly watched her son take whatever little heirlooms she had and what little savings she had and took a step out the front door. Middleman looked back for only a cold glance at his mother's eyes and left without a word.
He ran away from the village off the roads in an effort to get to the next town over. It was a long and hard trip, especially for a boy his age and size. In the end, though, he managed. He crawled around before finding a lord – nobility. Middleman begged the lord for education and for a home, and offered him all that he had taken from his mother. Of course, the value of the items was negligible and the amount of money offered was paltry. However, the lord took pity on the pathetic child, and praised the runaway for his foresight, and praised his understanding that things didn't come to people for free. The lord agreed to take Middleman under his wing.
He was taught that the most valuable thing in the world was wealth. The greatest power, money. With money, any power can be bought for you. A far easier and better turn-out profit than becoming a sorcerer or warrior – those people can be hired to work under your name. Middleman received the education that would be received by nobles and pages; reading and writing, maths, the sciences, history, politics – and most importantly, mercantilism. Although the lord was not much of a martial combatant himself, most lords did receive some kind of martial training, and fencing and dueling was his. Middleman sought out this education every single day, driven by his urge to become something worth more than the blood in his veins.
With help of the lord's debt investment, Middleman started his own stall at age 17. It was the first of its kind in the town he was in: a general store. Where everyone else had a trade specialty, Middleman's own specialty was trade itself. Because he wasn't spending time hunting, farming, or making weapons and whatnot, he had more time to focus on trade itself. He bought a variety of items from other sources, and sold them all at one stall at a higher price than when he bought them. It was a risky idea at first, but it payed off when people realized that the new kid on the block – while the prices were a little higher, likely had what they needed. With local reputation, even adventurers who went treasure hunting came into town and heard that the best and easiest way to sell their loot was to the general stall. He could convince the treasure hunter to sell it for a few increments lower than the item's actual value (of which the adventurers likely did not know about). It was only a matter of time before he was able to accumulate enough money to upgrade into a full-blown shop and become a bona-fide merchant.
Howe'er, there was the... minor issue of the lord, under whom Middleman had trained. Even with the years under his tutelage, the lord seemed to have little issue with bleeding his pupil's shop of a substantial sum of money with his investment. Middleman payed it off immediately, and asserted that he no longer needed his support, much to the chagrin of his teacher. The merchant was hounded and harassed, insisted to that his business would crumble without the lord's protection. Instead of arguing, Middleman cut the prices of the produce in his shop. The lord's claim to fortune was his farm, and with Middleman undercutting him to ridiculous degrees to the point where he was actually losing money with each sale, the tactic eventually managed to forcibly drive the lord and old teacher out of the region in search of a new market, albeit with a grudge. This also meant that with some competition out of the way (and a headache, for that matter), he was able to set his produce at a higher price than he used to (benefiting both him and his suppliers) and was free of the debt that had been bleeding him.
It taught him one lesson, for sure: that it was a pretty easy way for a person to make money off income investments. Having earned enough money, he was able to hire his own employee and walk around without having to work and still make a profit. However, not in his nature to be lazy, he started doing the same thing that had made him tired of his teacher, and offered investments to small or starting shops so to support them and give them an opportunity make business. Not only did this stimulate the town's economy, it also provided to Middleman a small percentage of their shares, and was able to make money off of other shops. If the shop in which he put the investment in failed or wasn't terribly active, Middleman was capable of bleeding them dry or buying out their shop entirely and making it his own. As a talented merchant, he was able to redesign the fundamentals of the shops and turn them back around to be more successful, and then put in charge the previous owner of the shop and allow them to manage it and behave as though nothing ever happened. For all intents and purposes, nothing has changed, except that the business is actually under Middleman's name.
This came to be known as the Xylem Cartel. Even with the youth that Middleman had, his cunning and the opportunities he took advantage of allowed his career to evolve alarmingly quickly.
It has happened more than once, for that matter. Middleman wrested control a large chunk of the town's market and monopolized certain commodities and services, such as alchemical supply and taverns. At that point, he theoretically had more power than the town's actual government and was able to get away with it. Of course, his ability to pay off some officials helped. Those were his first steps into the underworld business. He received contact from underworld connections inquiring the prospect of business opportunity. Naturally, Middleman obliged and entered the realm of the black market. There, it was much harder to trade. Everyone had something special, some unique contraband, and nobody was trusting or trustworthy. It made trade difficult at first, but fortunately, the town he resided in had nearby swampland with life unique to that region. Among the ecosystem was a fungus that instilled euphoria and hallucinations to those who ingested them. It was revered by the spiritual and drug-addled alike; and with the harvesting of it, was able to carve himself a niche in the black marketplace.
With that niche, he gained connections. Connections who had their own connections. With connections, Middleman was able to receive contraband that he otherwise wouldn't be able to get his hands on, and could sell
that for a big profit too. To him, nothing was off limits. With his resources, he was able to employ the same strategy that allowed him to become the domineering force in his town and give himself a larger presence in the underworld. As long as merchants worked beneath Middleman, they was ensured high pay and big reward, and Middleman was turning out profit like a machine. The Xylem Cartel had two sides: the face, which had concerned itself in legal trade affairs, and the underbelly, which smuggles contraband in and out whatever place they wanted it to be, along with selling and buying similar contraband. As shady merchants are wont to do, they wanted to join with the winning team. And that appeared to be Middleman's Xylem Cartel. Those he selected to crunch numbers for him he made sure to do so carefully, as many a trader would love to cheat him out of his profits. On top of that, they are also monitored, whether they know it or not.
Merchants and traders flocking to work with the cartel allowed Middleman's business to snowball.
Not all are so willing, however. In one particular incident, back when he was 27, Middleman was essentially behaving as a trade ambassador between two small underworld organizations. He charged one team and charged the other to allow his business to handle items for them so that the two could trade without having to interact with each other. However, the prices he charged were exorbitant and upset his clients enough that they decided to get together and do something about it. “Cut the middle man”, as it were. However, they weren't exceptionally quiet. Middleman's extensive network of connections allowed him to hear about their plan about as soon as it was formulated, along with background information concerning the traders. They had no martial training like he had, albeit his too was admittedly lacking.
So Middleman kept in his keep (because, surely after all this time would be a reasonable frame in which he could possess one with the kind of wealth he possess) and awaited them. At the end of the great hall, back facing the entryway, and his face staring at the wall, which had hung a mirror that Middleman had kept a close eye on and analyzed carefully. The traders quietly entered through the door – but were seen, unbeknownst to them. Their padded shoes muffled their footsteps against the rug, ensuring that he could not hear them – but they were seen, of course. Their slender swords drawn no louder than a mouse – but it did not escape Middleman. When the traders finally made their move to lunge their weapons through Middleman's back. Reverting back to the basics, Middleman was holding his stiletto as he swung his arm around to parry one sword and block the other sword with the latter's comrade. With his arm, Middleman also swung his leg, tripping the man on his right – and with his leg, his other arm came around wielding his flintlock and pressed it against the forehead of the man still standing; although off-balance.
He pulled the trigger and a bloody hole erupted in his assassin's head following an explosion of gunpowder. Middleman followed up by bringing his stiletto down and through the throat of the trader laying on the ground. Both of his assailants, dead, and in no more than two swift movements that Middleman had been planning and preparing for since his discovery of their plots. Since then, Arastoph had earned the nickname “Middle Man” as an alias. “Middleman” has become something of a shortened, Christianized version of it. He was the one middle man that you didn't cut. After that event, his reputation exploded now that there was a name to him that they could remember. Arastoph Xylem was known as the charismatic face of the Xylem Cartel, whereas the Middle Man was the black market trade lord associated with the Cartel's underbelly. For all intents and purposes, officials are led to believe they are two different people, but anyone associated with the underworld knows better. They also know better than to snitch. There are money-loving ears everywhere.
With his connections, one of his plans are able to come to fruition. An idea that he had at 29, and began setting the foundation at 32. At its core, Middleman's idea was a banking system, the first of its kind. Since computer networks didn't exist back in the day, it wasn't much more than an extensive system of IOUs. A person would buy a receipt that said that the company owed the owner of the receipt a certain sum of money. The purchase of the receipt also had an interest rate on it, meaning that the further they traveled, the more money the bank would make off of them. There'd be a person part of the banking guild that Middleman would have created and they'd take the receipt, request the additional charges, and then would accommodate that customer with the money they are owed. With his huge network of connections, he is now able to make that idea a reality. He is currently in the process of going town to town and meeting with some of his connections to establish agreements that they would station themselves in that region to become part of the route system Middleman was building.
There is at least half a dozen contacts across the continent now.
However, to make matters worse, rumor has it that Middleman's old pupil – the lord – is back and is looking for vengeance. Word also has it that the dilapidated old dog has his own set of connections. If the rumors are true, then it might just mean there's the smell of war on the wind.
Unfortunately, on his excursion to establish his bank routes, the village which he had met one of his contacts was overcome with goblins and ettins, and a group of foolish adventurers handled it sloppily. His contact was killed beneath a toppled ettin. Middleman intends to make them either pay or be indebted to him for the damages they committed that resulted in his losses.
