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Douglas “Wales” Martin


Age - 28

Gender - Male

Occupation – United States Postal Service Courier

Appearance – Douglas is a man of lean build. He's not going to scare anyone from just his appearance. However, what he lacks in pure physical strength, he makes up for in stamina.

He's not an ugly man, but women aren't exactly falling for him immediately. He has brown eyes and dark blonde hair, which is long enough to tie back, which Douglas does for practicality.

Height - 5'10''

Weight - 162lbs

Apparel – A simple gray suit consisting of pants, shirt and waistcoat, a brown leather duster coat, leather riding boots and a brown leather slouch hat.

Weaponry

Webley Bull Dog: Not the most popular revolver out there, but Douglas has a fondness for it as he feels it gives him some connection to his history in Britain.

Winchester Model 1976: Douglas got his hands on this repeater out of practicality. A newer model would have been too expensive, but it outperforms older models.

Hunting knife: This knife is nothing special and if it is of a particular make, Douglas has no idea.

Equipment -

Victoria: Douglas's horse. Gifted to him by a colleague who named her after the Queen of England as a joke at “Wales's” expense.

Travel kit: This kit has everything the traveling courier needs. Included are four yards of rope, flint, a cooking pan, a sleeping bag, extra ammunition, a wallet with some cash, a compass and a map of the region with the locations of towns and USPS and Western Union stations.

Travel rations: a few days rations of jerky and two leather water skins.

Mail bag: The standard issue bag given to couriers to carry their goods between towns and settlements.

Books: Douglas always carries a few books with him. He grew up reading Shakespeare and has recently grown a fondness for this Mark Twain fellow after reading his recent novel “The Prince and the Pauper.”

Skills -

Horseback riding: Douglas has built up great endurance and riding skill from his long rides through the frontier delivering the mail.

Map reading and navigation: A party with Douglas is not likely to get lost. He's a master of navigation through several methods, including landmarks, maps, the stars and so on.

Hunting and cooking: Though he doesn't practice shooting as much as most frontiersmen probably do, Douglas's long rides with little civilization has lead to him becoming a solid shot and learning the basics of tracking. He can also skin small and medium game with little issue. Likewise, Douglas had to learn to take care of himself on the frontier, so obviously he needs to cook his own food.

Well educated: Douglas's father made a point for him to be educated. He enjoys reading and makes a point to find local papers to keep up with current events.

Flaws -

Douglas is, at heart, a city boy. He was born in Cardiff and was raised in New York. He can get by on the frontier, but he prefers the comfort and activity of cities. He tends to get bored easily in small towns.

Douglas has an unusual Welsh accent. This is why his colleagues in the USPS nicknamed him “Wales.” However, it does often lead to others, especially frontiersmen, having preconcieved notions about him, purely because of the way he talks, especially with some less educated folks he encounters assuming he's Irish.

Personality – Douglas often comes across as brash and short when he first rides into town. He may have the physical endurance to do his job, but the long rides between towns exhaust him mentally.

Once he gets a drink or two in him, however, Douglas is much calmer. He's got a dry sense of humor and enjoys a hand of poker.

Backstory - Douglas is the only son of a Welsh leatherworker. His father, Johnathan, was a drunk for the majority of his adult life in Cardiff. The man had trouble keeping a job, despite being quite skilled at his craft. His wife, Carol, hated him for it, but gave up her plans to leave him when she had Douglas, instead hoping that having a son would knock some sense into him.

For a while, it worked. Johnathan was a very proud father, but he was also a very proud drunk. He never stopped drinking, but he did clean himself up enough to be a father. At least, for about four years. Johnathan slowly fell back into the bottle.

When Carol fell ill in 1861, Johnathan was at his worst. His reputation as a drunk was bad that he couldn't find work, let alone keep it. He loved Carol and it hurt him greatly to see her ill with him not making enough money to help her. He had his final drink the night before his wife's funeral.

Since then, he found work on the docks and spent the next two years working to get him and his son passage to the United States, where he hoped to open his own business to take advantage of the Union army's need for supplies in the ongoing Civil War. He and Douglas set sail for New York in 1863.

Johnathan's business ambitions weren't as successful as he had hoped. He was able to put food on the table for his son and make sure Douglas got an education, but not much else. Still, it was a living. Twenty years later, Johnathan still runs his leatherworking service in New York.

Douglas, however, showed no interest in learning his father's trade. Instead, after working for his father delivering orders, materials and goods between Johnathan, his suppliers and his clients, Douglas took to enjoying exploring New York and seeing new things he's not seen before.

Johnathan wasn't surprised when Douglas told him he took a job with the Postal Service. He was surprised when he said it was going to take him to Texas. Johnathan gave him about three years before he asks for a reassignment that takes him back to the city. This was five years ago.

Two days ago, Douglas rode into Soursprings on a routine mail delivery.
"Ah, we are joined by another." Gav said as Kovinth slipped in. He stood up from the table, took his cane and made his way to the door. "But I've overstayed myself. I must make haste back to Arussia. The three of you have a long job ahead of you." He unlocked the door. "I expect I will be hearing from you sooner than I hoped." He opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him.

If anyone were to open the door after him, they'd find an empty hallway, as if Gav simply vanished and were never there. In fact, the only hint of his presence was the castle layout left on the table. Everything is in the Planeswalkers' hands now. They know their mission and where they need to go to complete it. It's now simply a matter of getting it done.
Looks good. Welcome to the game.
I'm not opposed to continuing. I also have no interest in running a 2 man game. So, you can probably draw conclusions based on that. I apologize for my apparent lack of caring. I am more of an observer than anything.

So, let's see what happens from here. @Korkoa, if you get a character put together that I like, we can assume that you're late to the meeting. Other than that, until such a time I feel that the game is not salvageable, I am willing to continue.
"Aye," Gav responded. "There are the occasional restless spirits. Though we do try to avoid annoying them. Ghost mages care little for bystanders."

Ghosts were quite dangerous on Orisfal. They were exceedingly rare, at least in the cities, but they always caused chaos when they did show up. Only mages had enough presence of spirit to create a ghost upon death and they kept their power when they died. On the battlefield, war mages have found ways to capture ghosts and will sometimes try to use them as weapons. Capturing a ghost is very difficult and even more dangerous, so it's rare to see, but seeing it is a terrifying experience to the say the least.
In short, I'm making sure that folks are done posting before I make my move. Like I said, I want people to interact with each other, so if things seem slow, that's why.

EDIT: Also, I'm going to open up applications again. I'd like to get at least one or two more players in here.
"Water won't be a problem," Gav stated, somewhat confused as to why Brigid needed to find water in a coast city. "The castle is built on the coast and the city's sewer system is fed from the ocean."

"As for your reward, I hope you understand that I will not be the one to give it to you directly. You'll still be rewarded handsomely, but my agents will find you and contact you once the dust settles," He pulled a bag out of his cloak and threw it on the table. It was clearly filled with coin. "But if you need an advance, that should do nicely."
Gav scoffed. "The affairs of another world do not concern me. I don't know how you skip between worlds," He said, "but I don't care. The few Planeswalkers I've worked with in my time have put native mages to shame and that's what I've called on you." Gav shared no love for Planeswalkers. He felt they were aloof and only cared about entertaining themselves. Still, selfish as they were, they were always powerful and that's what he wanted in this case.

"I'll spare you the basics. You all know what needs to be done, the devil is simply in the details." Gav chuckled. "In short, I don't really give a damn how you get the job done. After its done, you will be rewarded and then you will never set foot in Arussia again." The Planeswalkers knew how politically sensitive such an assassination would be. The most important thing for Gav is that Arussia has plausible deniability, even if the only advantage it gives is Frasc's government scrambling to find the culprits, who are likely to have skipped the Plane, let alone town.

"About two miles west of the castle, there is a sewer that will serve as your entry point. Once you find your way to the castle's dungeon, the rest is up to you." Gav pulled a rolled up map out of his cloak and laid it on the table. It was the layout of the Frascan castle. "You can probably assume that the target is in one of three places." He pointed to the throne room. "If he is here, he is likely there as one of the King's advisors. Take that as you will." He pointed to the castle's east tower. "He likely has quarters in this tower. It's traditionally where the King's advisors have roomed when they stay in the castle." Finally, he pointed to the guard barracks. "Worst case, he'll be here, planning his next move. If that's the case, he'll be surrounded by soldiers with more soldiers at the ready to rush into his defense. Again, take that as you will." He eyed the Planeswalkers. "Any questions?"
"A perceptive observation, Mr. Pax."

The voice that entered the room was a commanding one. It belonged to a venerable man, walking with an expensive looking cane. He locked the door behind him, hung his cloak on a chair and pocketed the keys that were placed on the table. He sat at the opposite end of the table, and motioned for the Planeswalkers to have a seat. As he did, two of the chairs at the table pulled themselves out.

"I must admit, I am disappointed that only four of you have actually arrived. Still, it does mean that we'll have fewer variables to consider." He smiled at the pair. "But where are my manners? As you've probably already guessed, I am the one known as Gav Hall."
Feel free to interact at any time when you get to the back room. @VarionusNW, you will get your copy of the note and key when you arrive at the bar.
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