Appearance

Physical Description

The most important thing to know about me is I’m large for my race, at three foot and 46 pounds you won’t find many Ghostwise larger. I wear a stout and well-worn, wide-brimmed plague doctor’s hat. It is clear that it was once a deep midnight blue colour but is now sun-bleached and greying, not unlike my own hair, which is slicked back and greasy, with plenty of grey betraying my years. My face is equally haggard the years of alcohol abuse, smoking and general debauchery are written in my deep nasolabial folds and the weighty bags under my eyes. My wide, flat chin is covered in a carpet of greying stubble framed by thick muttonchops. I have dark brown eyes, set deep into a heavy, stern brow. I wear a long black duster, made of a thin but durable looking leather. It flows behind me in the wind as a ride my trusty mule in search of my next bounty.
Beneath that I wear a grimy, unwashed cotton grandad-shirt, a number of buttons undone to reveal another layer of black leather armour, polished silvery studs glimmer in the sunlight. Adorned around my waist are a couple of overlapping belts, providing easy access to rows of ammunition. From these belts, hang a long leather whip, engraved with little leaves, it is devil’s ivy green, almost black; next to that, a pistol with an ebony handle, its body and stout barrel made of blackened steel with little patches of gold filigree and the word Dúnmharú along its length; finally, he carries a second pistol this one has a pearlescent butt, its gleaming steel barrel dazzles in the sunlight and is, again, adorned with gold filigree and the word Ceartas. My legs are covered durable black, drill trousers and a pair of stout leather boots. My legs are usually seen either side of my trust mule Ualach, a mahogany, ageing but powerfully built creature. He's in his third decade and has been with me as long. His wiry grey hairs, clustered around his eyes and running through his mane, reflect my own. His ears are a little crooked and droop forwards slightly. I travel light so he bears me with little discomfort, and, like his rider, he's surprisingly graceful and elegant in his movement, more like a stallion than a mule. Me and Ualach are one and the same, I’d be heartbroken if he died, though I recognise he’s approaching his final days of carrying this old fool across the planes.
It's not unusual to see me riding across some desolate landscape with a pipe hanging out of my mouth, forming little smoky dragons that glide around my head before dissipating into the air. If I wasn't smoking my pipe, you might see me heartily quaffing ale from my tankard of plenty, until hunched from overindulgence, Ualach slows to a snail’s pace allowing me to roll of his back into a spongey patch of heather, until the early morning sun glares me into wakefulness, at which point, I usually light up my briar wood pipe and repeat the previous day’s events until I locate my prize.
I am a prodigious gambler, drinker, smoker and well, let’s just say, if something makes you feel good, that’s what I’m going to want to do. Amongst my prized possessions, won playing cards of course, is a briarwood pipe, engraved with small mithril runes, it allows me to blow some of the most mind-blowing smoke rings you’ll ever see. I also have Cailic’s hipflask made of blackened pewter, it has a silver skull and dagger engraved into it one one side and on the other it reads “The Untamed and The Host my saints are, may love and wine forever reign with wine I was away my cares and then to cunt again.”

Mentality

Personality

Social