"Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order."
This generously proportioned man has slitted brown eyes that are like two splotches of mud. His sweaty honey colored hair clumsily hangs over a time worn face. Scars stretching from the bottom of the left cheek, running towards the tip of the nose and ending on his chin leaves an agonizing memory of his unfortunate upbringing. Gold rings on his fingers underline faded tattooed lettering across his knuckles “B-A-B-Y L-I-O-N” – a mysterious reminder of a former life.
Despite his slime ball demeanor there’s something surprisingly trustworthy about him, perhaps it’s his blunt confidence or simply his utter indifference. People flock to him hoping to trade their problems for their servitude, only time can tell if the deal would be in their favor.
Crime Lord and self appointed Mayor of Pastiche. Little is known about his background or how he took over the once abandoned ruins, but thus far, no one has asked.