PCs:Bavou B. Faost

Bavou B. Faost Race: Adomkuro Human. Gender: Male. Classes: -Hireable Psychic Warrior- aka "Sellsword Fleshwall" as he refers to himself. Age: Young, but experienced. Height: Five Feet and Eleven Inches. Weight: Around Hundred and Eighty Pounds...? Eyes: Black... Hair: ...Black, cropped short. Speech: Heavily accented Undercommon - Romini/Adomkuro Flare. Place of Birth: The remote village Ezdelin, in the depths of the Underdark. An Adomkuro Settlement rumored to be the harbor of "the Vessel" and the birthplace of Qinoxitl. Current Residence: The Inn Fernal, Verloghokbol.

Noticeable are several ill-fitting Tattoos. Some are artsy, colorful, others just plain, simple and badly done. . . . . Succubi Pin-Up's on the inside of each his Forearms. Various Glyphs on his Fingers. A stylized Dagger, combined with a snake, on the back of his left hand. Red Lips that have formed to kiss the lower right side of his neck. Filligree Waves & peculiar Symbols with the occasional Spiral on his thighs. The elaborate Portrait of a mysterious Woman on his Right upper Arm. A Skull on his left upper arm. An imperfect motif of a Harp behind his Ear. Stirges on his chest. . . . . .Many other unusual, asymmetrical Tattoos covering most of his pale, gray skin. . . . .

Chapter I.1 - Background. "Spendin' dze last Five or Six years in dze Verloghokbol pokey fer sumthin' so blatant, so inane can be frustratin' fer a young up 'nd comin' chap like me. I started bein' me, when I left ma Villaj Ezdelin atta Age o' 17. Dzem scatterbrain'd fundamentalist zealot Loonies livin' in ma Villaj witta Q. fixashion jus' wasn' a thing for me, yaer know? Dze idea was, ta try ma luck in dze big V., either wittem Guards, as a Pimp or a Trafficka'. Or all three in One. Nope, it all didn' turned out in anothaa' way, naet ta my likin' ... Yae can control only dzat much of yaer path, dze rest is jus' action, reaction 'nd circumstances. I ended op inna dead-end Alley rammin' a broken Ale Bottle inta dze face offa Wankaer. Ta my misfortune he had dze right 'Friends' inna right positions. Verloghokbol Politics. Accused of deliberate murdaa' attempt, muggin' 'nd possession of Crystal Death [...Which was originally dze Wanka's belongings...]. Three years atta most dzey said." Chapter I.2 - The Talented Roughneck, Mister F. "Two Revelations, Brodda'. 1. We all have a Skellie inna Closet. My 'Skellie' makes me a peculiar, but talented Bastaa'd. 2. I'm greedy as a feckin' Tick. I'm an Egoist. Why jus' a piece offa Cake, when I can gittit all? When I was a youngsta' I quickly found out dzat I was diff'rent. Same, same as ma Folks, but specshial. Here it goes: Yeah, I know I'm a Tuff Guy, I can fall wit'out hurtin' ma self. I can cut ma self wit'out bleedin' dzat much, I can even heal minor wounds by a mere Touch.. Nae, I'm nae an emotional Victim. I do nae cut ma self 'cause I feel miserable, mind Yae. Whateva'. Dze difference between me 'nd dzose who're gifted by 'em Gods or dzose dzat do dze Witchcraft is dzat I can do it by jus' wantin' ta do it. It comes from dze inside. A thought, dze will 'nd I can harden ma skin or match it ta dze Backgrounds. Like, Now yae see me, now yae don't. Ma two elder Broddas', Bigiz 'nd Bjaz, used ta beat me op jus' fer dze fun of it, jus' ta see how much I can take. Fekkin' Whoresons [Yeah, our Motha' was dze Villaj Mattress, I kid yae nae...]." Ovaa' dze years I've komm ta know dzat dzis gift offa mine was untapp'd powaa' dzat slumbered in me, all dzat I needid waes ta tickl'it ta pop it uut." Chapter I.3 - Must be true Love. "Ma first few came inna Cell I spent dze major'ty of ma time in. Two fat Roachis. Atta first I gave 'em Names, loofly as dzey were. "Explicit" 'nd "Lyrik". As natshure has 'tis way, dzey did it like li'l roachis do 'nd bekomm more. Jus' like rodent, only dzat dzey're bugs. Doesn' sound wise or sharp I know. Soon I cuud naet keep count, nor distinguish dzem from each oddaer. As if 't was a pact, I attractid cockroachis of all sizes, of all colors, of all descend. Dzey were wit' me all dze time. Crawling even inside me. More 'nd mo'. Taday, I know, why dzey're inside me. Realizing dzere's nae hunger or t'ffirst anymo'. Dzey feed, I feel replet'd. Dzey giff me strengt'ff, naet just company. When I die, 'nd Dagat'ff keeps me in his Cycle, 'nd a Wankaer opens ma gut.... Oh I wuud loof ta see dzat face! One last feast fer ma looflees 'nd me. . . . . . . .