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Name: "folks call me 'Smith.' "
True Name / Alias: *cocks the hammer* "who wants ta know?"
Allegiances: What allegiance?
Rank: not terribly fond of the bath, no...
Age: unknown, appears to be in his 30's Sex: Male
Height: 'bout 5'9”, Eyes: Blue
Physique: a little malnourished / 'trail lean.' He's wiry and scrappy, like a mangy dog.
Hair: long, black, a little greasy.
Skin: pale, needs some vitamin D – uncommon for outlanders...
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Gunfighter. Don't much matter what kinda firearm he's got in his hands. Smith's always had good luck when it came to killin' folks. Spencer rifle, pistol, Sharps, carbines, shotgun. Don't matter. He may not be the fastest draw or the best aim, but he was always lucky, and steady to a fault -- like there was nothing to fear but his own nerve, and if that held... shoot. Better watch out.
Nothing to Lose. Smith is on a mission, and he's convinced it will end with his demise. But not until them that deserve it, get what's comin' to 'em. A man with truly nothing to lose is a dangerous man indeed.
Stubborn as an Ox. Smith's been dead plenty times. Or close enough to it to know how far a man can push past his limits. He ain't afraid of taking a bullet. Or four. Because he knows his will is damn near enough stronger than a handful of .45-70 Sharps rounds. He won't be stopped, or toppled. Now -- stubborn is also a pain in the tuchus. He don't ask nobody for help, don't trust nobody, don't really make friends easy. Many times bitten. But if he gives his word, he will keep it. He also lives by his own code of ethics, which is about all he's got left.
Loner. His mission will need allies. But Smith figures -- at least at the start of our story, that he don't need none. Moreover, as much as he'd rather not have any scruples at all, he's still concerned enough about 'good' folk that he'd rather not see anyone who were to side with him come to any harm -- and they would. Should anyone take a shine to him, he'll do his damndest to push them off. He's lost too much, and seen too many die, to every want the responsibility of anyone's heart again.
Out for Blood. Make no mistake. Things are going to get ugly. Blood will be spilled. Vengeance has a price, and Smith is willing to pay it. Wrath is an ugly thing, and he has no illusions about his ugliness.
APPEARANCE: Smith is a wiry, ashen-faced, narrow-shouldered man who looks more like prey than predator. His eyes perpetually squint, he is slow to speak, and when he does his voice is barely a croak. His clothes are threadbare (and taken off a dead man a fortnight ago.) Spurs jingle as he walks, his boots worn and re-stitched. Difficult to see what he might be carrying to protect hisself, under that old priest's button-up cassock he wears like a poncho...
BIOGRAPHY: On the Way...