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Skotinódasos

'The Stonebreaker' and 'The Mad Priest'


Species/Race: Human Inburian-Morktree native
Sex: Male
Age: 40
Court Alignment: Red Wyvern
Role: Colonel / Warrior-Priest


Appearance:





Strengths and Weaknesses





Background:

Rudy Rudeanu


"I'm just repeating what the police said." the gravedigger looked skeptical of the assertion it was a murder." He was digging a grave on the edge of the old plague pits. Nasty place to dig since there are no records of where the bodies are.


Rudy nodded at this. had been interested in on this line of questioning, he seemed to lose interest with this response and looked back down at his notes, briefly writing something. "These days you must have some sort of system though to make sure you don't place bodies in the same place. I wouldn't mind seeing around the last grave he was working on."
Character Description

Name: Skotinódasos aka "The Stonebreaker" aka "The Mad Priest"
Species/Race: Mixed race ancestry, presents as Human Inburian-Morktree native
Sex: Male
Age: 40
Court Alignment: Red Wyvern
Role: Colonel / Warrior-Priest
Appearance:



Strengths and Weaknesses





Background:

Perfect. I'm taking heavy inspiration from Maximilien Robespierre and Guy Fawkes as well, but the working backstory is straight out of Oliver Cromwell: a wealthy-ish commoner with a surprising acumen for cavalry command, furthering a righteous cause while also exploiting the turmoil to ruthlessly seize power. The more brutal the methods (the more ethically ambiguous the character's legacy) the better.


Welcome to the party. I wouldn't worry about his legacy too much, wait till you meet the guys you'll be working with.

It actually might be worth touching base to hammer out backstories since anyone in the Red Faction probably knows each other reasonably by this point.
Pretty much yes.
Skotinódasos - half-Inburian half-Morktree native escaped slave and shaman-in-chief ready to bring the most metal faction in the history of factions to the Red Wyvern slave revolt.

There will be smoke. There will be steel.
The will be the blood that spills and the fire that cleanses.
Ioan M. Foster


The Hollow Tap

“Mr. Ioan,” he greets, his voice deep and smooth. He had a wide smile on his face as he looked towards the man, sizing him up as he did. “Welcome to the Hollow Tap. Come up to my office—we’ve got some things to discuss I presume.” Stepping aside, he gestured with a hand to invite Ioan to follow along before he spotted Marco running towards him.


Physically, there wasn't much to Ioan Foster to size up. He was probably the shortest man in the whole room and quite a few a few of the women as well. On the other hand, the wait didn't seem to have bothered Foster at all. Nor the fact that he'd spent the time standing, leaning against the bar. In fact, for those that had been present, his stillness had been a little unsettling.

"Just waiting." He'd said when asked by the bartender if he wanted something, coming alive briefly to smile and make eye contact before resuming his inert waiting. He didn't move, didn't fidget, didn't seem uncomfortable at all. He just waited in silence.

Gideon's arrival and voice, like a spell, seemed to have reanimated Mr Foster from his torpor. Even this was short lived though with Marcus' sudden arrival. The man's bulky frame literally cast Foster in his shadow. Foster himself made a casual glance over his shoulder at Marcus' arrival, noted his haste and stood wordlessly aside to let the man speak with his boss.

“Boss, the job went south. They’re calling in help, Vin needs me,” Marco paused as he raised up a medic bag.

“Mr. Ioan, I know you have been waiting but I must reschedule. If you wanted to wait I will be back before long,” Gideon paused as he looked over to Seren, “you too Seren. Food and drinks are on the house if you wait.”


Foster offered Gideon a sympathetic smile then checked his pocket watch while Gideon and Marcus ran out. His eyes flitted briefly to the medical bag Marcus raised up and for a time after the pair left, foster stood motionless. One could almost see him weighing staying or leaving. Finally he glanced at his pocket watch before folding it back inside the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and approached the bar to resume his waiting.

Seren walked up to the bar and sat down and grabbed a menu. They looked it over before they pulled out their phone, and opened ticktok. On the screen was one of the more recent ticktok trends, where two people would play rock, paper, scissors. The winner would take a bite of food, while the loser would need to run laps around whatever area they were in. When they got back from the laps, the two would play rock, paper, scissors once again. Seren looked towards Ioan, and smirked. They wanted to record the video later on, maybe rope Bryn or Elara or anyone else into it, but something drew her to Ioan. Maybe he was willing to give a silly ticktok trend a chance.

“So. You’re meeting Gideon today as well? What skeletons in your closest is he taking care of today,” Seren


Ioan Foster's head turned.

Cool blue eyes met Seren's, then they flicked briefly over the rest of her, then back to her eyes. "Skeletons? Oh no..." He spoke as though he found the idea of going to Gideon to have skeletons taken care of amusing. The man seemed to hardly be interested in anything, or anyone in the bar before; not the patrons, not the other girls floating around and he hadn't even looked at a drink the entire time he'd been there. Now though, in addressing him, Seren could feel she suddenly had this man's full and undivided attention. "You know." He began, his tone slow, deliberate, the ghost of a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. "Back when I knew Gideon a person could get themselves in real trouble in a place like this, asking questions of the wrong people."

There was a deliberate pause in which he refused to break eye contact. He seemed not at all concerned whether this made her uncomfortable or not. "Which makes you either very brave or..." There was another long pause in which Ioan Foster was watching her as though she were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, or the way a cat watches a bird. "... interesting."
Chamer


"Making sure I can really get the money?" Zoe asked with a smirk, drawing herself up to her full, not particularly imposing height and tossing her head haughtily, though the smirk never left her face, making the gesture seem more ironic than anything else, "I'm very persuasive," she assured him.


"I'll be putting down as well."

Chamer appeared in the doorway, his sterner voice contrasting with Zoe's as his eyes watched the pair. The poet had spent much of the journey skulking in his room, or writing, or occasionally trying to 'make himself useful' by harassing Krasikos or Ferrari to show him how to do engine maintenance or operate the wireless. Usually wildly over-dressed, barely dressed at all and drunk.

Here though he looked more put together than he had the entire voyage. Like a new man. Or a sober one at least. He was also dressed in what passed for a more sensible ensemble. He wore a white button-down shirt covered with a tightly fit silk waistcoat in earthy tones, and intricate gold-threaded brocade-work. His breeches were expensive looking and finely worked doe-skin leather, matched by tall leather boots. For good measure he wore a black derby hat.

He looked like a rich person looked like trying to dress like a cowboy.

Notably, to complete the look, he wore a pistol on his belt.
For anyone going back to the cemetery, I'm just throwing a reminder here as well the co-write is now active in discord post-planning-ic - feel free to hop in.
Rudy Rudeanu
When Theo brought up the first victim, the male grave digger, Aleyn had an idea and walked over to the rest of the group to speak. "About what Theo just said, and tell me if this seems out of place, but since the first victim was a grave digger and not like the rest of the victims and the killer seems to favor the graveyard. What if the grave digger dung somewhere he should not have and woke something up?"


Rudy, still looking tired shook his head. "It'd be far more productive assisting Fraulen Wickler with the police than inventing ghost stories. The evidence so far, has ruled out dogs. We're looking now at a very disturbed individual - I'm sure if our culprit was some form of ghoul the evidenc will lead us there. Until then we, let's stick to the evidence in front of us without indulging the Nachtewache and their penny-dreadful children's fairytales." With a long sigh Rudy rubbed his temples. "I'll follow up with the cemetery's administrators this afternoon. Any are welcome to join me, but I need rest."

With that Rudy stalked, wearily, off.
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