Lance Marshby

[*CaCO3]

Basic Information
Name: Lance Marshby
Aliases: Unpirate, Bandanna Bear, Doorman
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: Late 30's
Profession: Smithing, General Handyman, Planeswalking
Languages: Common, Elven, Dwarven, others rumored
Accent: Rough, Caer Corwellian

Physical Information
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 154 lb
Body build: Muscular, but on the lean side
Skin type: Rough
Hair style: Short hair, often covered by a bandanna.  He wears a full beard.
Scars: Impossible to miss scars on his face no longer existed.  In fact, any evidence of past wounds were nowhere to be found.
Tattoos: He used to talk about having one on his back.
   Coloring:

• Hair: Brown, beginning to slightly gray.
• Eyes: Blue-ish Gray
• Skin: Pasty Northerner

Mental Information
Alignment: Ambiguous at best
Philosophy: " I'm just a tiny goddamn speck in this barmy arsed multiverse. "
Deity/Beliefs: The man does not discuss faith often but an emblem of Shaundakul is present on his sword scabbard.
   Personality:

• Introverted: Prefers smaller groups, and often enjoys solitude.
• Grumpy: Stupidity, barminess, and dim witted behavior annoys him on a regular basis.
• Intelligent: He has knowledge and experience in several areas of artifice.  He is far more clever than his typical laconic disposition lets on. 

Additional Information
Gear: Every day carry includes a red bandanna, a leather jacket with his armorer's seal embroidered on the back, an adventuring backpack, and a modular sword belt adorned with a long sword, sword hilt dagger, pouches, tools, and magical trinkets
Jewelry:  Nothing persistent, though he's been observed wearing a ring or two, usually on the index and ring fingers of his right hand.
Habits/hobbies: Pipe smoking, drinking, tinkering
General Health: Once in good physical fitness, things have deteriorated in a literal night and day difference.  He lacked tone and definition to his musculature and seems to have lost weight.  He is plagued by a cough and allergies while also seeming generally weak and lethargic.  Physical exertion would quickly leave him exhausted.  
Favorite Drink: Moonshae Whiskey, Stout
Weaknesses: Former problems with alcoholism, regular nightmares, and the darker chant suggests a history of violence.

(WIP)

[*CaCO3]

It was no secret that Lance was often a moody bastard, and that was on his better cycles.  If one had the unlucky experience of meeting him during less cheery times... well, they might walk away from the encounter feeling like they'd met the biggest prick in the cage.  He had his ups and downs, just like anyone, but he was in a downward spiral with no end in sight.  

Lance just wasn't the same after Odette had disappeared.  He was left bitter and isolated, once again alone.  The pair had got caught up in troubling circumstances outside of Sigil that were personal to him, so of course he felt like the outcome had been entirely his fault.  Worse still was that upon his return to Sigil, her memory was either forgotten or never known by most of Sigil's Planeswalking 'usual' crowd at the time, leaving them to regard Lance as a misunderstood and depressed maniac on a hair trigger.  But worst of all were the rare few that sullied her name in his time of deepest grief.  To drive that knife into the back of a man at his lowest was a grievous wound to his sense of who his friends really were.  He would not forget.  And so he withdrew, spending sleepless cycles recuperating from his own wounds and restarting dormant operations at his workshop once physically capable.    

Inside his shop were the scattered pieces of a derelict airship, still far from completion.  It was to be hers to captain upon restoration.  And with that honor came the duty of giving it a name.  But she had died, and so too did that dream.  Instead, he would finish rebuilding the ship in her honor.  At the time, it was the only thing which gave his life any meaning.  For him, it was a dangerous place to be.  He settled on naming the ship the 'Shadow of Doubt', a moniker originally suggested by an elf named Amir which Lance and Odette had both held in high regard.  The name was oddly fitting.  Once complete, the small, sleek ship would have an ebony hull thanks to the materials chosen for the restoration.  

There was much work ahead.