It's a Weird weird west: Character creation/OOC

[Ixidor92]

It's a weird west, where the beasts are magical, dragons control the land, and a railway across the continent may or may not bring devils in its wake. Where Old Scratch iis very real and active. Where elves halt civilization's progress. Where magic may be born from any manner of circumstances. How will your town prosper with only six-shooters and grit to protect them?

Skelly:
Name:
Age:
Race:
Gender:
Appearance:
Profession:
Skills:
Weaknesses:
Personality:
Bio:

 

[Ryrax]

Name: Solomon Hengstalt
Age: 52
Race: Centaur
Gender: Male

Appearance: Both his equine and human halves are muscular and noble, his horse body's fur a matte black to match the hair on his head. He has long, thick black hair and a short beard. His temples have turned gray, and flecks of gray litter his facial hair. His hair line has receded slightly from when he was younger. His eyes are dark green. Lines and wrinkles have just recently begun their takeover of his features, which remain ruggedly handsome. His nose is a tad crooked after having been broken once before, and a trio of parallel scars lie in the right side of his jaw, though they are usually obscured by his beard.
While active during the day he wears a royal blue plaid shirt with a brown vest, upon which his badge is pinned on his left side. On colder days he has a dark brown duster and black cowboy hat. If, for whatever reason, he decides to dress more casually, he wears a long-sleeve v-neck shirt colored gray, white, or light brown. He sleeps in a simple white t-shirt and has a large quilt drawn over his body. Typical accessories include a pocket watch kept in his vest pocket, a pair of reading glasses, and sometimes a scarf for cold or dusty days. He typically carries a six-shooter on his right hip, a cavalry saber on his left hip, and when venturing out of town he adds a lever-action rifle slung across his back.
Profession: Sheriff. Solomon does his best to keep law and order in his town, and protect his people from harm.

Skills:
- Fastest Gun on Four Legs: His profession and large body demand that Solomon be quick on the draw and shoot with pinpoint accuracy. Even a split-second too slow could mean death, so he practices religiously to perfect his skill with firearms.
- Casual Carpentry: Solomon does carpentry work, mostly as a hobby, but he's skilled enough to take commissions every so often. His woodworking skillset ranges from palm-sized figurines to full structure overhaul, though he tends to do better work the larger the scale of his project.
- Tin Badge, Silver Tongue: Due both to his profession and his charisma, Solomon is proficient in bargaining, negotiation, and generally dealing with all sorts of people.

Weaknesses:
- Gettin' a Little Gray: Solomon's age is catching up to him. His physical ability has started to wane, and though he's in great shape for his age, he sometimes can't quite keep up with a similarly-active younger man.
- Bit of a Skeptic: Though he would like to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes, Solomon is slow to trust new faces and new stories. He doubts that devils exist, and even magic usually leaves him with a raised eyebrow. Promises are answered with a "we'll see", and asking him to trust you is scoffed at if he hasn't known you for several years.
- Those Damn Knife-Ears: He really doesn't like Elves. He doesn't like talking about why, but he strongly dislikes them.
- Stubborn Work-Horse: Though generally amicable and capable of reason, Solomon can be stubborn, and does not like being told he's unable do something. He tends to push himself too hard, and doesn't listen to people trying to get him to relax once in a while.

Personality: Stoic, gentle, compassionate, chivalrous, and gentlemanly have all been used to describe Sheriff Hengstalt. He is generally well-liked by the townsfolk for being a fair and reasonable officer of the law. He trades good-natured banter with the ranch hands. He's always willing to help unload carriages, and genuinely enjoys assisting people with their problems. He has a small weakness for liquor, usually imbibing in a couple stiff drinks at the end of the day. He's a happy drunk, and popular with the tavern crowds. He speaks his mind when he has something to say. If he thinks Mrs. Parker looks pretty in her new dress, he'll let her know; if Bernard is getting too rowdy after one too many glasses of scotch, Solomon will warn him to head home to bed for the night before he does something that lands him in a cell.

Bio: Solomon was born on a ranch far from this town, living with his centaur family tending a herd of cattle. One day a caravan passed by, and was beset upon by elves. Solomon and his family charged in and routed the ambush. One of the women, a young brunette named Martha, caught Solomon's eye. He left home to join her side. Solomon and Martha eventually made it to the town he lives in now, and settled down to start a family. Their home was about 30-40 minutes out by horseback, giving them privacy while being close enough to visit town without too much hassle. Solomon worked as a carpenter while Martha raised their son, Emmet. One late evening while ordering some supplies from town, Solomon witnessed a drunk man failing to take no for an answer from a young lady in an alley between buildings. Solomon sent for the sheriff while he interceded. When the sheriff arrived, he found Solomon and the drunkard playing cards. Impressed with his ability to resolve the situation peacefully, the sheriff remarked that he was looking for a deputy and offered Solomon a chance to fill that position. Enticed by the opportunity to protect and serve, Solomon gratefully accepted the offer.
Years later, Solomon took over as the sheriff. As his work defending the town and enforcing order got riskier, It caused a conflict between him and Martha. She didn't want her husband and son's father to die suddenly before their child is even grown, but Solomon's stubbornness and desire to help the townsfolk meant he would refuse to retire his badge at every provocation. Their flame of romance flickered, waned, and eventually blew out over the years. Finally, after hours of serious discussion, Solomon and Martha decided to divorce. Now, the two have joint custody of Emmet, though it was agreed that he live with Martha. Solomon visits when he can, and always stops by for dinner on Sundays. He gives a portion of his wage to Martha for child support, and she uses her talent with a loom or needle and thread as a seamstress to get an independent source of income.
These days, even the townsfolk have started to mention that Solomon should look for a deputy to train up as his replacement down the road. Though Solomon has yet to heed this advice, even he admits that he isn't the young man he used to be.

Extra: He goes by Sully Henstal, mostly because enough people fumbled his last name for him to start going by something a little simpler to say. That said, only friends are allowed to call him "Sully". Everyone else should call him "Sheriff" or "Mr. Henstal".

 

[Cyrionessa]

Shi'kara

Appearance: Ebony skin, white hair, red eyes. 5"6 and 130 lb. Generally bar tends in corset/skirt combo, with her having a few colors to choose from. When out and about, wears a tight pair of leather pants (much to the chagrin of the more "traditional" folk), a plaid shirt, and a black vest with her trusty "Eleanor" rifle on her back.

Skills:
Levitation: She was left with a latent ability to perform levitation. It definitely has its limits though.
I Know My Alcohol: Has become an expert in all forms of alcohol in the area and all dwarven alcohol.
I Know What You Need to Hear: As a bartender, she is used to telling people what they need to hear when drunk, sober, or anything in between.

Weaknesses:
Outsider: Her strange appearance plus the fact that she's an elf tends to be a bit off-putting.
Trauma: She literally watched her friends and family have the life sucked out of them. More than a little traumatic.
Hot-Tempered: Though most of the time calm, her temper is quite explosive.

Occupation: Bartender
Distance from town (in days): Lives in town upstairs at the Adamantine Tiger Saloon.
In character goals: To find a place of acceptance and perhaps one day find someone to love. Secondary would be making as much money as possible and living an easy life style.
Potential avenues for character change: Though she tends to abhor violence of any kind, she could definitely become more of a fighter under certain circumstances. She is quite open to learning anything and everything that could possibly be useful in the wilderness.

Possible intercharacter connections: Anyone and everyone who comes into the saloon.

Back story: Shi'kara was born into a tribe of forest elves who went under the direction of a shaman. The shaman said that he was visited by a deity who told him to build a portal gate so that the deity could enter the world. Unquestioning, the tribe built a massive stone arch between two mountains. But when the shaman began the summoning ritual, the tribe saw the dark energies and began to falter. A few tried to stop the shaman, only to find that the shaman was being controlled by something. A great darkness escaped from the portal that grasped onto all life around it. With the last of their strength, a few of the elves managed to knock apart one side of the arch. But it was too late. All except one were shriveled corpses, the life drained out of them. A portion of the darkness escaped into the rest of the world, unleashing demons of many types.
Shi'kara was the only one left alive. However, she was forever changed. Her once porcelain skin shown like ebony wood. Her once emerald green eyes now sparkled ruby red. And she had a strange knack for being able to levitate objects. The elves that found her deemed her demon spawn and trapped her inside of a cave as a curiosity. It took several years for her to find a way of escape from her prison. Once she did, she set out to find other beings that might be kinder, denouncing all kinship to the elvish race. The dwarves that she found were more forgiving, though they still eyed her suspiciously. She found a certain love of spirits, ales, beer, and other versions of alcohol and soon found herself as the bartender for the dwarvish settlement.
Humans did not come onto her radar for quite some time. However, when they did, she was captivated by their love of adventure and exploration. Their greed and wanderlust was catching. She soon met a young human, who offered her a chance at different life in a new area where no one would know her. Struck by how he seemed to not care about her appearance or strange abilities, Shi'kara took him up on his offer and set off to a new town and a new place. She is there now, in this new town filled with dwarves, humans, and centaurs, still an oddity hoping to find acceptance and, one day, love.

 

[Ixidor92]

Name: Neil Dellas
Age: 20
Race: Human(?)
Gender: Male
Appearance: Neil does not cut an imposing figure, reaching about five feet-two inches. His figure is not overly muscular, but lean from years hiking through the woods. Neil's skin sports a slight tan, while his hair is a dirty brown/blonde mess. He keeps this mess trimmed short regularly, often taking a knife to it when it gets irritating. The man's eyes are a brilliant, piercing blue, and are often the first thing anyone notices when looking at him. Neil's hands sport many calluses, but he does not possess any scars. When in town, Neil wears simple denim pants and a light colored shirt. When out and working in the woods, he wears thicker denim pants, as well as a couple layers of shirt, vest, and leather jacket on top. He also will usually be wearing a stereotypical cowboy hat when in the open. He carries a small six-shooter when in the wild, and a large knife at all times.
Profession: Hunter. Neil spends hours upon end in the wilderness near the town, sometimes leaving before sunrise and arriving after sunset. He returns with small game, which he sells quite cheaply to the residents of town. If asked, he will also gather herbs or other items within the wilderness which could be difficult to cultivate.
Skills:
-You can't smell that?: To Neil, all water has a distinctive, and strong, scent. This allows him to locate any water sources nearby, both running and standing. He can also smell how pure the water is, with fetid water burning his nostrils in a similar manner to burning garbage. It is for this reason Neil does not drink beer, as it has a similar scent.
-I can feel it: When Neil sticks his hand (or any part of him) within a body of water, he can 'feel' through the water as if he was touching it himself. How far this range extends depends on the body of water in question and his mental state. In general, he has a wider radius in a still body of water, but a greater range downstream in a moving body of water (less range upstream).
-The best defense is not being seen: Surviving in a wilderness with owlbears, dire creatures, and all manner of beasts requires discretion. Neil is very talented at hiding his presence within the natural world. Especially within forests, marshes, and other such vegetated areas.
-five steps ahead: Neil hunts primarily with traps, not with firearms. He does have some manufactured traps, but more often he ends up using the environment in clever ways. This means he has a penchant for spotting usable objects in the environment, and putting them together in quick fashion.

Weaknesses:
-All smoke: While he carries a six-shooter for protection against large beasts--Neil doesn't have a great deal of skill or experience when it comes to using it. More often then not, he ends up firing the thing in the air to either scare off creatures, or to alert others nearby of trouble. Whether that be for them to run away or come save his ass generally depends on who hears it.
-Not all there: When in the company/safety of townsfolk, Neil has a tendency to space out, say strange things, or otherwise... not act quite human. He will occasionally talk about "the water speaking", and also carries a weird manner about him. By all accounts, he should be human, but a few have told him otherwise, and whether they believe it or not, his manner does put others off.
-I'm not a sprinter: Neil is a patient and slow hunter. He will wait for hours for prey to come by, and spends time far away from the town. However, when it comes to bursts of athleticism, many find him lacking. He is not an impressive sprinter or lifter by any means, with swimming being the only activity he excels in.
Personality: Neil is, above all, patient. He is the sort of person who will wait in a tree for hours on end just to catch a rabbit, or sit there and listen (or seem to) while someone yaks their head off for an hour. He seems content to let others bring excitement into his life, rather than go off searching for it himself. Neil is also prone to being 'pushed around', and will often do what others ask of him without much question. When in conversation, he is a pleasant partner, but oftentimes does not seem fully aware of the emotional undertones that may be there.
Bio: Neil's strange life began on the very eve of his birth. His mother came into labor within a covered wagon on the trail to their new home. Thankfully, with the help of a priest that traveled with them, the young man was born safely. Having no basin in which to baptize the newborn, the priest performed the act in a nearby spring. Uncharted and unknown, but extremely with extremely clear water. After moving into their new home, Neil developed some strange tendencies as a child. He would always fall asleep more easily to the sound of moving water, and rainstorms were the nights where he slept most peacefully. He would go and play with other children, but oftentimes space out--staring into seemingly nothing for hours on end. That magic may be the source of this behavior was not thought of until Neil spoke of water's scent as a young man. This combined with his demeanor caused others not to dislike him, but to treat him as a somewhat different entity. Neil found that his seemingly endless patience served well for hunting and trapping, and so took to the hunter's craft, apprenticed to a dwarf named Eberk within town.

Neil has not stopped hunting to this day, still feeling a connection to the town that raised him. His father met an unfortunate accident with an owlbear some years back, but he still supports his mother as best he can. If ever there was a call that would cause the young man to leave town--it would be mention of the spring where he was baptized. The priest told the young man of this happening and has surmised it may be the source of his "strangeness". Neil wishes very much to see this spring with his own eyes, perhaps being able to find something more of himself there.

 

[RedHotSwami]

Name: Elbridge T. Thain
Age: 25
Race: Human
Gender: Male

Appearance
Elbridge isn't what people think when they think of a gun-knight. People think of tall and broad frame, confident and serious eyes, stoic demeanour, etc. Whereas the truth of it is that most of the knights just look like people. The cowboy who came in with the sandstorm, the banker who fidgets too much with their tie, or the carriage driver who jokes the whole trip.
Elbridge just looks like a young soldier back from the war. Dark hair, dark skin, a little short, with muscles that belie a definition born of struggle, and a smile that doesn't quite hide his loss yet. His clothes are always well taken care of. He always strives to look his best.
And he always has his two six-shooters at his waist. Weapons of superior craftsmanship, and frankly art, that bear the marks of a loving owner.

Profession
While for many years he was a gun-knight in the Confederacy he is currently working as a bouncer and sometimes bartender at the Adamantine Tiger. He also picks up odd jobs for ranchers or what have you. He's been eyeing the bounty board every once in a while but hasn't picked one up yet because killing isn't something done for personal gain but for moral reasons.

Skills
-I don't kill with my gun, I kill with my heart: He has been trained from a young age to use his guns as an extension of himself. He was a gun-knight for the secessionist government throughout the war but never climbed very high up that ladder due to his youth and the relative brevity of its existence. But he is by far one of the best people with a revolver this side of the Mississippi. But skill only gets you so far.
-Tinker Soldier: He's been fixing his guns for years and knows them inside and out. With the many different ways, his guns have needed fixing he's learned the basics of many different crafts to keep them in good working order. By extension, he can repair, reforge, or if given enough time and supplies simply make guns.
-Always Has a Tale to Tell: He knows The Book of the Round back and forth and will tell stories of knights and dragon-slayers, of gunsmiths and demons for a good time if prompted. It's the part of preaching he managed to get a handle on.

Weaknesses
-When you only have a hammer...: War breeds violence in the hearts of soldiers, and this soldier has yet to excise it from himself. He's good in a fight and when you're good at something it tends to be your solution to your problems.
-Father's Code, My Code: A knight follows the 7 Tenets of Chivalry: Prowess, Courage, Honesty, Loyalty, Generosity, Nobility, and Courtesy. While Elbridge is no longer a gun-knight in truth he still holds himself to the same code.
-Only Read THE Book: The scope of Elbridge's schooling consisted of learning from his father the Law of the Round and the art of the gun. He doesn't know much of anything outside this and the basics of survival that were taught to all soldiers.
-Inflexible of Mind: He is not practiced in the art of seeing things from others points of view or questioning his own moral code. He believes what he has been taught and he see's it as the Truth. All other ways are misguided at best and evil at worst.

Personality
Elbridge is a soldier with no war. He seeks out fights wherever he can often in the face of the law. He has his own code to which he holds himself. He loves telling stories of the Knights of the Round, be they old or modern, and if you can get him a little drunk he'll even tell some of his own. He's young and passionate about his beliefs and hasn't questioned them until the end of the war. He's untethered and trying to find some solid ground to stand upon.

Biography
Mother (Delilah Thain) died when I was young. I remember her love of stories, of knights of dragons of heroes. But she took ill in my 4th​ year and left us, me and my father (Barnibus Thain), alone. He was a preacher of the Round, of the laws of chivalry and he brought me up in them. We bonded over the stories momma loved. He would tell em to celebrate her. He wasn't as good as her at it... but he was always one for moralising instead of just staying in the tale.
He trained me in the art of the gun and the tenets of the Round in hoping I would follow in his footsteps and become a Preacher and protector of a shire myself. But that was when the South Seceded.
My father went away with a "Take over son" as he put on his grey cap and went to be a Gun-knight of the Confederacy. He'd always said that when Arthur ascended and became a dragon himself that he had become something other than the good king he was. That a dragon should not rule over people as it might a river.
I preached until my father died.
And then, I did what he always wanted, and I followed in his footsteps.
I served with passion and distinction, seeing each of those blue jackets as the person who had taken my father from me. I took that pain and loss and used it as I had been trained and killed with it. I used my heart to end the lives of others. I took their deaths into me as I carved swaths through their lines. But I'm only one man... and while we fought valiantly we did not have the rail the north did. And while some say it was the devils in their midst that turned the war sour... I'm not sure if that's wrong.
I was present in the city at the surrender. I heard the words of the Pendragon I heard its voice speak to unity to healing to forgiveness. To opening arms to all those that had defied him if they would swear to him. Not even asking for an apology.
I saw... justice. I saw mercy. I saw virtue where I had expected to see.. vice.
I could not swear to serve but I could swear to accept this loss.

I returned home and the church had been taken by another who could do the job better than I. I found that my grandma had left me her house in the west and I took it as a sign to begin again.
I came to [town] and walked the small house my grandparents lived. And then I looked for work...

In Character Goals
-Elbridge is looking to find a cause to fight for or an enemy to fight against. He's a knight with no king. A soldier with no war.
-He wants to punish wrongdoers according to his own beliefs.
-He has a desire to be a protector of the weak.

Potential Character Growth
-I could see someone trying to temper his violence and pull him away from the Path of the Gun. And towards a quieter life. Though this isn't where he will go without help.
-He's as far away from the Pendragon as physically possible without leaving the country so he won't have to face a threat to his moral code. There is possibly either and acceptance of the Pendragon as leader of the government or a complete rebellious turn. He's at a crossroads there.
-He's looking for a fight. And he'll eventually find one and leave town if it is elsewhere. He's here because he has the house in town and has memories of his family there. But he'll leave it if something compelling calls.

 

[Dystopics]

Karst Dunhill
human
age 25
career - alchemist

skills
"Alcohol, Alchemy? What's the Difference?" Is a rather skilled brewer of alchemical agents and spirits, as well as alcoholic spirits and liquors. Also may occasionally not label which bottle is what.
"Eye of the Dragon" He is one of the foremost researchers on dragons
"Precision is Key" Deft in the handling and use of knives, daggers, scalpels, and pretty much anything with a blade

Flaws
"Eye of the Dragon" He is obsessed with dragons
"Dead-eye" He's really near sighted, and you probably shouldn't ask him to shoot something
"Tact? ...Do you eat it?" He is not socially gifted. At all.

Bio
Karst Dunhill was an orphan. Growing up in a big, industrial city meant that he had almost no chance of encountering a dragon of even pest stature. At the age of ten, he was taken, along with several other orphans from the orphanage to see a traveling Circus that had come by which featured a performing dragon. While the dragon turned out to be an elaborate costume/puppet, wielded by several hidden men, it sparked an incredible degree of inspiration for child Karst. In the years to come, he became a regular presence at the city library, reading all he could find of dragons, which was piteously little. However, this life was not to last, and at the age of fourteen, he and all the others at the orphanage at that age had to leave the orphanage. Needing a job, and a place to stay quickly, he managed to leverage his tendency to research to get a job in an alchemists house. There he spent a few years rising up from basic drudgery to doing actual alchemy, which was a living, although not necessarily enjoyable. Six years later, he was on a train off to the west, leaving his dead-end job of mindlessly making weightloss potions for the psuedo-rich to follow his dreams, and research dragons in the wild. Having saved over several years from his job as an alchemist, and from his hobby brewing beer, spirits, and liquor, he had enough to live comfortably on the edge of civilized territory and focus on his research.

Physical Description
A shorter man, Karst retains a lean figure, refraining from excess. That said, his clothes tend towards the more luxurious kind, with rich fabrics, colors, and cuts being among his preferred wardrobe. Generally seen around town wearing nice slacks, fine shirts and vests, and a nice hat, clothes are his guilty pleasure. Regardless of what he wears, he almost always has a number of pockets and pouches containing a variety of alchemical agents ready defense or relief. He wears his dark hair short and trimmed, and has a lean face, with soft gray eyes, reminiscent of smoke.

Personality
A fairly upbeat person, Karst is always happy to talk to new people, especially about dragons. That aside, he's a rather shrewd businessman, having learned many hard lessons growing up an orphan, and learned them well enough to be fairly wealthy as a relatively young individual. In his work, he rushes forth, ever eager to fulfill his fascination with dragons.

Goals
-Continue his research on dragons, possibly on even rarer and fantastic specimens
-

Possible Character Growth
-Right now, he's focused on a child-like fascination of dragons. Aside from a number of interesting things he may figure out about the dragons, its not terribly useful. this could, and should, shift towards a more practical end-goal for his research
-His side-job as a brewer of alcohol in the city was mildly illegal. or it would've been if it were on a smaller scale. His decision to leave was precipitated by a need to no longer be in that city. Eventually, an arm of the law may try to find him.

 

[Ninja_Onions]

Name: Cassandra (Cassidy) Henderson
Age: 26
Race: Human
Gender: Female

Appearance: Cassidy sports an overall fit build, just shy of five and a half feet tall, with long, amber hair, typically back in a braided ponytail. Her skin has a light tan from the long exposure to the sun, and her eyes are a soft hazel. Her attire consists predominantly of dusty, plaid print button down shirts, with a red bandanna tied around her neck, faded denim pants, torn slightly with age, and a pair of brown boots, scuffed and damaged from use. She has gunpowder burns on the tips of her fingers, among other small cuts and scars from years of loading guns and 'handling problems her own way'. On her back is holstered a breech-loading shotgun, the metal tarnished and scuffed, sporting burn marks along the barrel and stock, and strapped to her hip is a holdout revolver, more distinguishable in that it looks to have almost never been fired.

Profession: Ranch hand / Small pay Bounty Hunter. Cassidy wanted to get away from her old life and find something more stable, but some old habits take longer to break.

Skills:
- Woooeee! : Any moseying slow poke can saddle up and ride, but learning the "hows", "whats", and "whys", along with a few tricks is what seperates the good riders from the great riders.
- I solve practical problems: Jury-rigging comes with a steep price. Sometimes, getting a grain wheel to turn, fixing a wagon, or even keeping a support beam upright takes a certain skill that comes with years of taking something and turning it into something else.
- And you'd best hope... not pointed at you: Of the family of guns, the shotgun does not have a particularly pretty history. Cassidy took that bad history and definitely didn't make it any better.
Whether by buckshot, slug, or even burning folks with fresh shells from the barrel, Cassidy embraced that brutal nature and reinforced it's name as a "Trench Gun".

Weakness:
- Troublesome Past: Cassidy rode with the wrong crowd for quite some time. She did a lot of things that she regrets to an extent, and she is always worried that they will show up and cause even more trouble for her some day.
- Firecracker with a Long Wick: Cassidy is more than willing to talk, barter, and even debate over the everyday chatter, but she has problems keeping her anger under control when people push certain buttons too hard.
- Still Aimless: Cassidy thought that finding stable work and a quiet place to call home would help calm the feelings in her heart, but all it did was put a band-aid over a deep wound. She enjoys honest work but still feels drawn to some of her old ways.
-Booze Makes the Pain Go Away: Cassidy developed a not so minor alcohol addiction not only from her past, but also to help with the weight of the daily monotony. She tends to find the bottom of a glass or five more often than she wants to admit.

Personality: Cassidy is fairly laid back, the lack of structure and rules for the majority of her adult life heavily influencing how she views the world. As of recent, she's begun to offer help to people who are down on their luck or in a rut, wishing to pay forward the same kindness she received. She can be a boast, and has a hard time turning down a friendly wager or challenge.
Shortcomings aside, she's dependable and fairly easy to get along with.

Bio: Cassidy was born into a small family, much further south than where she's ended up. Her father, Jericho, had work in the north, though her mother, Katherine, wouldn't talk about it when Cassidy asked. It wasn't until many years later when Cassidy was grown that she learned the sinister past her father had gotten wrangled in to. The dust storms made the quality of life poor for the Henderson's, giving her mother a wicked cough, and forcing the young ones to wear scarves and cover their mouths. Katherine passed when Cassidy was in her teens, while her father was away on business. Being the eldest, Cassidy took and buried her mother out a ways by the well, making a pile of stones since any dust and dirt would blow away from the winds. When her father returned, she broke the news to him as gently as she could. He stood in the dusty kitchen, soaking in all the information, before setting his briefcase upon the table, popping the lock on it, and turning around and walking out the door, never turning around and never coming back.

Cassidy didn't open the suitcase until days after, when she realized that he wouldn't be returning. The case contained several hundred dollars, more money than Cassidy had ever seen, and a silver bullet buried underneath it, pristine and undamaged. She took the case and her siblings and fled their home, worried as to what it meant, and what her father possibly had been doing. She rode with her family to the nearest junction and got them on a train headed north to be with her Aunt Steph and family. As she went to board the train, she checked her pockets to make sure the silver bullet was safe and sound, at which time the conductor noticed the shine of the ammunition. She was seized and kept for questioning as the train pulled away, parting her from the remainder of her family.

After they finished her paperwork and got her processed for possession of stolen goods, she had a brand of an 'S' put on her neck so anyone could know what she had done time for. Her fortune turned when a gang calling themselves the "Scarlet Rushers" went through and broke one of their own out of the jail. During her time she had made friends with Rian, the dwarf that they broke out, who offered her a spot in the gang if she could prove she was a good fit. Cassidy had finally found a break. The next few years spent with the Scarlet Rushers gave her a sense of purpose and she ran with it. Only after marshals started hunting them down systematically did she consider leaving her new family. She took all that she knew she could without drawing attention, grabbed a horse and her shotgun, and rode north, hoping to find a new start. She made it as far as [town] before they caught up with her. It's likely she would have perished if Solomon hadn't intervened when he did. He was able to barter the goods she took from them, along with some other assurances, and convinced them to leave her be. As they rode away, the voice of a dwarf carried to Cassidy's ears, his familiar accent whispering the phrase, "Ain't no Rushers ever lived that quit. Do best to member that Cass."

In Character Goals:
- Cassidy is still trying to figure out her 'greater purpose', or convince herself that a slower more stable life is a fine purpose to have.
- She wants to atone or work on atoning for who she was.
- She is trying to get Solomon help for his job, or convince him that she could help.

Potential Character Growth:
- Cassidy doesn't put a lot of faith in herself in so far as being a 'moral' or 'upstanding' citizen. She's trying to understand the 'do's and donts' of society but has issues sometimes.
- She still has a repressed wanderlust from her time with the Scarlet Rushers, which she will probably succumb to if it isn't keep under control. As of current, she ties up petty loose ends that Solomon doesn't have time/ability to work on as means of controlling it.
- The fate of her father is yet unknown to her.