... And bring a friend next time- you'll need it by the looks of things.
Per Heroic mortal, soldier archetype, thug profession.
SpitJack is all of 19, but has already spent a lifetime in the streets of Nexus. In his time alive he has become a guru of the Nighthammer district, combining aspects of thug and scholar. He’ll discuss historical events with you at a scholastic roundtable in the bastion district one day, then gladly steal everything of worth on you the next. And it isn’t that he’s simply casing you and your colleages; he’s genuinely interested. It’s just that he, unlike the washed and servile, knows Nexus for what it truly is- a jungle. Like any jungle, it is to be explored and exploited, contemplated on and conquered.
And, to his credit, he doesn’t look too worse for the wear. His normally curly, black head of hair is kept methodically shaven, and his face has relatively few scars- the most notable one being a line-shaped burn mark on his left arm, running from shoulder to elbow. He is well-built for riverfolk, at above-average height and tone. His green eyes have a sort of misty, allergy-ridden look to them. He dresses simply, in garb that doesn’t allow for easy handholds or the like.
He currently holds a position of power in the streets of the Nighthammer district, running one of the five “prominent” gangs in the area- the straight-razor dragons. And while he himself prefers his fists to the knife that most members use, he is no slouch when it comes to dishing out a beating with either. SpitJack, with the death of Agnes Demurrin, has started to focus more on enriching his subordinates than leading them… And this has not gone unnoticed.