Mr. Bolton
Mr. Jonas A. Bolton (a.k.a. Mr. Bolton, Scumrat, Mr. Sleaze)
Between the civilized folk of the Moon Terrace and the lowlifes of the Thieves Guild, Iron Claw and other more devious criminals, there is a group of your everyday lowlife scumbags. These pathetic nobodies either try to get back to the lines of civilized or to grasp power in the criminal circles.
But then some rather don't bother. Most of these lowlives die in a ditch in bleak misery when others, well, they find the away. And no one has managed to earn the same amount of stability on this practice than the crooked, unapologetic, and utterly sly Mr. Bolton.
"Ah, a visitor. Welcome to our fine establishment", said the voice, snapping him out his thoughts. The sound was harsh like sandpaper but still tried to sound as honey-tongued as your best tailor. He lifted his eyes from the good and weird things on the makeshift shelves, to see the owner of this wretched and wonderful place.
The man behind the counter looked like he hadn't had a proper wash in years. His teeth were so yellow, that they were almost orange. You didn't need to smell him, just a simple glance was needed to tell he reeked. He had the smile of a weasel, and his hair was combed to the side by what couldn't be anything else than filthy grease. "Come in, come in, don't be shy. Now, what can I get for ya?"
Mr. Bolton is a Human male in his early thirties, who carved his way from a common pickpocket to be a seller of stolen items, illegal goods, rumors, and questionable favors. His little establishment, the Rathole Pawnshop, moves in the sewers of Moon Terrace, offering surprisingly good collection of slightly used goods in reasonable prices. But know that these dealings may not be as clean and simple as you think if you ever cross the smiling scumbag behind the counter. Even the rats can have friends in very high places - or places too low for your own comfort.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
With the size of his jacket covering most of him, it was hard to tell his actual body shape, and the dirt on his skin made it even to point his actual skin color. Under all that filth, ragged stubble, and greasy hair, he might have even been a pleasant looking individual, but it was hard to say for sure.
Body Features
For what anyone can tell, Mr. Bolton is a bit on the skinny side, relatively tallish human male. His skin, when you manage to see it under the dirt, is lighter brown shade though it is unknown how tanned he is. He barely never walks straight and doesn't look particularly intimidating, but he has rather broad shoulders. There are tales about poor sods who have crossed the usually so sleazy salesman who has ended up with broken ribs, bleeding noses, and bruised faces, so it is safe to assume that Bolton is able to take care of himself.
Facial Features
Bolton has rather unremarkable chocolate brown eyes and often has stubble on his face. He has short, black hair that is very greasy and often pushed haphazardly to the side like trying to make a mockery of cleanly combed hair of professional salespeople and fancy servants. His face is rather long, and he has very mixed features, making it hard to exactly pinpoint his ancestry.
Apparel & Accessories
Most common items on Bolton's wardrobe are his fingerless glow, his motheaten terrible jacket, worn-out leather boots, and tattered scarf. Despite having fairly successful business, he doesn't seem to burn any of his income on his appearance.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Very little information exists from Bolton's childhood and early years. He was born around the year 4015. It's speculated he might have been a bastard child of a bar wench from Cliffport, according to some stories of a young boy that fit his description.
By the age of 18, Bolton had spent already few years going around and about the Silver Shore Island trying to find himself something to do, when he finally arrived to Moon Terrace around the year 4023. The rumors tell he had some "misunderstandings" with dwarven mafias of Stone Halls that had taken him to have an early leave from the underground city.
Bolton started his career in Moon Terrace as a pickpocket and running errands, stealing things from order or selling the things he stole he couldn't keep without consequences. In those earlier days, he might have dreamed about an official position on Thieves Guild. However, his small side business would eventually lure him in, and he would later seem very satisfied with his status as a private entrepreneur.
Bolton came most recognized from his sharp wits, business sense, observant eyes, keen ears, and "diplomatic talents." His current position as the middle man to almost everyone that matters in circles of lowlives has come either from his ability to find dirt from everybody or simply know how to stay useful and smart enough not to be eliminated.
Intellectual Characteristics
Bolton has quick wits, observant gaze, and keen ears, making him more intelligent and formidable than he might first appear. Despite his looks - or maybe exactly because of them - he can be terribly effective businessman when he wants to. He might not be book-learned, but his street smarts are more than just devious.
Morality & Philosophy
"When dealing with Bolton, you should be aware of the Bolton code. He can be awfully insufferable, but he has principles. He just isn't going to share them with you, and if you do not learn them quick enough...
Well. Let's just say in that case you might need to stay low for a while. Very low. And a very good while."
Even the lowlife scum has some principles. Mr. Bolton is no different. Bolton will tell you he is a businessman in heart, and naturally, wouldn't do things that hurt his business prospects. Bolton doesn't have any particular need to help people, nor he shows too much empathy towards anyone. Dog eats dogs in this world, and Mr. Bolton is very aware of this. However, a business partner who isn't reliable isn't a business partner for long.
Bolton doesn't have any interest in hurting people just to do so, and while never showing particular remorse towards the unfortunate, he doesn't steal from them. They wouldn't have anything to sell anyway, and few things they would have wouldn't better his prospects that much.
He also doesn't hurt people that bring money to his shop unless he has a problem with them. He doesn't tell whom he got his wares from, nor whom he sold them to. He won't tell what you came to ask from him, but you can bet that if he manages to hear something from your mouth he finds juicy enough and which doesn't directly touch your businesses with him, he might sell a vague shadow of that information further.
Bolton also doesn't deal with too specific and recognizable objects (though he is helpful enough to point you to people who would) nor anything related to the slave trade. That just goes into too risky of a territory.
Social
Family Ties
Very little is known about Mr. Bolton's biological family, nor he seems to have any ties to any, atleast publicly. However, in some loose sense, he seems to have a somewhat familial bond to his Kenku goons Clinker, Chitter, Buzz, and Hiss. One story tells that he found the cluth of Kenku eggs and raised the quarted himself, but no confirmations exists that this is actually more than just a story.
Social Aptitude
Confidence seems to be the key to everything, and Bolton definitely has it. As he may play a part in a humble crook, he knows how and when to insert himself on conversations. He has managed to get good side of several individuals, and his antics, while first appalling, ar sometimes almost endearing for his long term customers.
Speech
When speaking, Bolton sounds slippery, but also weirdly convincing. Maybe his obvious act makes him seem less intimidating, but who knows. He has a habit of dressing his speech with compliments and smiles that make it hard to determine is he genuinely trying to be friendly and is he just terrible at it, or is he mocking the whole world with his antics, like the world would be a joke for him.
He has a low, growly voice, that doesn't fit his chosen way to speak at all. He isn't particularly good with difficult words but knows the salesman jargon better than his own pockets.
"Welcome to our fine establishment. What can I do for ya?"
"...unless you have something more... specific in mind?"
"Let's just say that our return policy is... rather complicated."
"We take pride in our prices, you know. There is very little margin to negotiate."
"Oh please, come again."
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