Lantea is a walking stereotype of a young asari. Cocky, brash, loud and confident at times to the point of arrogance in everything from her skills to her appearance, this is topped off by a moral compass that’s off by a degree or two. Despite this, although she’d rather die than admit it, she cares about those around her once she gets to know them, readily putting her attitude aside when it can solve a problem. Given her young age and the corresponding lack of experience, for an Asari that is, Lantea has a bad habit of dismissing good-natured advice and diving into things head first instead. The reason she’s still alive and with all four limbs attached, even after three decades of reckless mercenary work, is a combination of dumb luck, largely unappreciated help from her peers and the fact that she is both a decently powerful biotic and actually quite good at fighting, something that continually fuels her already massive ego.

Lantea was born in Saefos Valley on Illium to a turian member of a small mercenary team and an asari corporate lawyer. Her father, still an adventurous spirit in her golden years, left early in her life and never returned, leaving her with no recollection of her. Raised solely by her mother, Lantea was exposed to the corporate world from an early age, and found it rotten all the way to its stinking core. While she hated it, she got useful lessons in dealing with various species, body language basics, a few useful contacts and a decent idea about several Terminus criminal groups and their activities out of it, as well as an interest in other cultures. Unsurprisingly, the more her mother pushed her into this disgusting swamp, the more she fought to escape it, creating a rift between the two. Lantea even purposefully failed law school in favor of pursuing tech education to spite her. At the height of their divide, Lantea began modelling herself after her father, all the way to wearing face paint copied from her picture for a short time, much to her mother’s dismay.

One day in 2151 at her club of choice, Lantea ran into a collection of malcontents who were in the process of forming a mercenary band and needed an armorer. The crowd sat right with her, so she packed what she had and kissed Illium a sweet goodbye. Of course with her only knowledge of her father coming from a few mentions by her mother and a single picture, she didn’t exactly get it right. Where her father preferred the target notice she was there the day after the job was done, Lantea found the direct approach much more reliable and less time consuming. The group went on to become somewhat known throughout the Attican Traverse, gaining some experience and a decent amount of credits, enough for Lantea to buy several suits of armor as tech progressed over the years and transform them to her liking.

Though made up of a few dozen of questionable individuals similar to Lantea herself, they were good enough to survive their jobs and smart enough to keep their activities mostly legal and not to piss on the chips of any of the major Terminus mercenary organizations or the Systems Alliance once they established a presence across the Traverse. The band eventually formed two groups as members aged and left, one preferring a controlled approach, the other opting for a more aggressive stance. Remembering the divide between her and her mother, Lantea set her attitude aside and tried to mend the rift before it tore the band apart, but the minds of turians and salarians did not seem compatible with batarians and krogan, not to mention the humans who were more often than not incompatible with each other. Seeing no alternative, Lantea bode her comrades a sour farewell in late 2181 and left the band on good terms before things could take a turn for the worst.

Having left the group behind, Lantea turned to freelancing, moving from the Traverse and into Alliance space proper, where driving back and in some cases hunting down batarian raiding parties proved to be a constant source of employment. In early 2183, she and the colony that hired her at the time got tangled with a slaver ring large enough to draw the ire of the Alliance directly, and her involvement there eventually led to her name appearing on the Kingslayer candidates list.

At first glance, Arty might seem like a friendly if slightly boastful Scot with an inclination for puffing on cigars and enjoying a good sparring match. And while Arty is indeed all of those things, his career has made him far more observant than he appears. A useful skill to have in the world of private security and investigation. Arty's friendly nature also lends itself to social situations and his less than stellar background has given him experience navigating the criminal world as well as the ones that saintly law abiding citizens live in.

However he does have a bit of a nasty inferiority complex, which is why he's in the private sector now and lord knows his temper has costed him a contract or too. Arty cannot stand those who talk down to him in any way and will gladly take some time to set the record straight with the offending individual. More often than not in a violent manner. Despite this, he cares deeply for the people whom he considers friends and will go out of his way to protect those who are innocent in his eyes.

Arthur Kirk Dow was born on May 12, 2157 on a small farm just a few miles outside of Saint Abbs, Scotland. His family, which consisted of his father and two sisters, raised a variety of animals but primarily included sheep. Arthur had a relatively normal childhood, the life of a scottish farm boy wasn't too bad. Even from a young age, he liked to scrap with the other kids. Especially the ones who made fun of him for being a farmer, or having less money. He liked to bloody their noses real good. But his whole life would change when at age 13 on a routine visit to the doctor, he was discovered to have biotic potential.

Arty was given the choice between toiling away as a farm boy for the rest of his life or learn to lift objects with his mind and travel the stars. Images of the richer kids sneering at him flashed through his mind. It wasn't much of a choice at all, really. Arty left Earth and trained with the Systems Alliance military, learning to control his newfound power. It wasn't easy but Arty had a certain hunger that the other biotic kids didn't. He especially excelled in the martial arts portions of his training, combining his biotics and knowledge of fighting to turn into a devastating force of nature even as a teenager. He completed his training at age 17, being formally transitioned into the military as an Ensign. A little young, but the alliance military had already sunk 4 years of training into Arty and they wanted to make it count.

Arty spent the next two years shadowing his superiors, learning about ships and warfare. Occasionally they even let him go on a patrol. He was restless, ready to fight. He spent long hours training, trying to work off the aggression that the alliance nurtured in him. Then the Skyllian Blitz happened and Arty got the action he so craved. The ship he was serving on responded to the distress call and they jumped from a nearby system directly into the fight. It was the first time he had seen any real combat, firing at pirate cruisers soaring past their ship. He was able to shoot down half a dozen ships that day and was promoted to Lieutenant, Junior Grade for his effort. In Arty's mind, this was the real start of his career.

He spent the next few years jumping between campaigns, hunting down the pirates that attacked Elysium. He was transferred to a marine shock unit as a biotic warrior and truly learned the meaning of fighting in the frontline, covered in dirt, piss, and blood. It was in these close fights with the batarians where Arty really developed his style of fusing biotic power and martial arts together. At the end of 2178, Arty is promoted to Lieutenant and is assigned as the executive officer of a reconnaissance company conducting operations at the edge of the Attican Traverse. The missions the company conducted were some of the most dangerous Arty had been on. In deep space and far away from any Alliance reinforcements, he came to rely on his men immensely, as he knew they relied on him.

Then one mission went bad. Just one misstep by the commanding officer and BOOM. The CO's head was on the floor and Arty was suddenly in charge of getting them off planet alive. But they were surrounded and upon radioing command, they informed him that he had received a battlefield promotion to Lieutenant Commander. Not that he would be alive to enjoy the promotion much longer. But somehow, through quick thinking, extremely violent means, and sheer luck, Arty and the majority of his men managed to get off world and escape the system. They returned back to alliance space after a long tour to receive awards. They were survivors, heroes. But as Lieutenant Commander Arthur Dow stood at attention to receive his medal, the admiral pinning it on him said to no one in particular.

"You know, if the command team didn't have some country bumpkin leading the way, more marines would have made it out alive."

Then before Arty knew it, he had blasted the admiral across the room and was being wrestled to the ground by security. They threw him in the brig for a few months to let him stew. The admiral had a dozen broken ribs but survived. Which was frankly a miracle. Arty figured it was over for him. A stunt like that was an easy twenty years in a military prison. But it seemed he had some friends in high places and maybe just a little luck, because all they did was kick him out with nothing but a now useless rank and the power crush someone's skull with his bare hands.

So what was a guy to do? Arty started doing bodyguard work all over the galaxy, high risk clients that paid big. Not as much action as when he was in the military but maybe it was better that way. Eventually he started branching into private investigation. That's how he started working with C-Sec on the citadel. Now, they didn't necessarily like him but they couldn't deny he had a knack for cracking skulls and an eye for overlooked details. And Arty found that he was relying more on them too as his clientele got increasingly pompous and condesending, Arty found it harder to get work. People tend to not want to hire the person that kicks them into the pool. So Arty was pleasantly surprised when the job offer for a fancy taskforce showed up in his inbox. With a cool name as well, Kingslayer. Hell, he might just have to join.