A smooth as snake oil confidence trickster on the run to Malifaux...
Sebastian is of an average height with an average build, an average voice, and an average face. It’s really quite extraordinary how average Sebastian is; which is perfect for what Sebastian does. His brown…black…blonde…auburn…his hair has been changed so much he hardly knows what the natural color is. His brown eyes are bright with intelligence and always seem to convey the understanding of the current situation the person who he is talking to is in. Most folk on the whole tend to forget most things about Sebastian as soon as he’s left…that’s how average a person he is.
|Physical Aspects||Mental Aspects|
|Ganten M1895||Pistol – Range: 10 – Damage: 2/3/5 – Capacity: 7 – Reload: 3AP|
“As the watcher awaits your cry of vengeance…”
“…an idea will betray you…”
“…for new enemies are made from old allies.”
“The blind woman must lead the seeker…”
“…and the penny paid is thrice earned.”
A Brief(ish) History of Sebastian Mayweather
“Oh mercy, more thugs from Mercy.” was the first thing I thought when I saw the look of recognition in the eyes of the three men sitting at the table across the bar. I could recognize those dull faces with the bowl haircuts anywhere; although it was mostly the way they couldn’t think without their lips moving. It had been almost a decade since the events that happened in that little town called Mercy. Yet still the townsfolk blamed me for their own naivete, gullibility, and ignorance of the basic constitutional laws and statutes by which one must be elected!
“Oh mercy they’re coming over here…and they appear to be carrying weapons. What can I do for you fine gentleman?"
“Are you Prescott Prescott?” asked the biggest of the three.
“Definitely Mercy men. I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else. I’ve never heard of…Prescott Prescott?…I don’t typically associate with people who have such silly names."
“Hey, maybe we were wrong, " the short one said slowly, “P.P. had a mustache and glasses after all. If this were him how could he see without his glasses?”
It’s true that when I had ran for mayor of Mercy as Prescott Prescott I had worn glasses and grew a mustache. It’s the beauty of being average and forgettable…people remember the things that stick out but not who you were…most of the time anyway.
The big one and the smart one turned their heads to look at the short one. The smart one (at least I think he was the smart one, he was the only one who didn’t have to count his pennies one at a time when paying for his drink) scoffed at shorty, “Remember all the lying? The glasses were a lie too! He didn’t need them, it was a disguise.” When the short one still looked confused smarty pinched the bridge of his nose, “Don’t worry, P.P. lied, this man in front of us is Prescott Prescott, trust me.”
It was at this point that they noticed I had slipped under the table and was crawling away. Brute force is not my strong suit and clearly those oafs were not going to be convinced to try looking somewhere else. I stopped crawling when the patrons went silent and the click of a pistol being cocked rang clear as a bell throughout the bar.
“Listen up P.P.” the big one said in a gravelly voice, “you and yours robbed our town blind right in front of our faces. We got nothing left. Which means…nothing left to lose. We’re gonna have justice one way or another.”
I looked back from the floor and saw that the big one had a pistol pointed at me while shorty and smarty had shotguns pointed at the rest of the patrons. "Well, " I started, “I suppose when you’re right you’re right.” I inched my hand towards a bar stool, I had been in this position often enough to know all the best tricks, “But you know what they say…” but of course I was interrupted by Mr. Big.
“Stand up and die.”
“Ok” I was gonna have to be quick. As I stood I brought up the bar stool that I had managed to get my hand around while crawling and hit the pistol out of his hand. I didn’t stand around long; I turned tail and ran. I heard a shot fire and felt a sting on my arm. Then I heard the men chasing after me.
I ran down one, two, then three different back alleys but they managed to keep up. I had forgotten that if there’s one thing people from Mercy were good at it was chasing down their prey. As I stopped to catch my breath I saw a flash of sunlight on metal and managed to barely avoid a knife that had been thrown from behind a corner. I took that as my queue to continue. As I bolted down another alley I noticed that a rug hung from an archway concealed a passage. I took advantage of my short lived head start and ducked behind the rug. I pressed my back up against the wall and tried to breathe heavily and quietly at the same time. I heard the three thugs run past, the big one and the smart one chastising shorty for missing with the knife. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked up to notice another looking back at me.
With a groan I backed up through the rug with the person and a rifle following me. After we stepped back onto the street he lowered the rifle, grinned, and let out a few short barks of laughter.
“Well I’ll be a horse’s nanny! Is that you Billy Paxton? It is!”
“Oh mercy…that’s the guy I sold those old horses to…Otis?” I adopt my overly excited twangy southern accent as I address the old mark. “Howdy! Fancy running into you around here!”
“You’re telling me! Thanks for that sale by the way. After you sold me those horses a guy from the glue companies came around offering double what I paid you! So I sold em those mares and got me and my family outta that Podunk little town after all those years of toiling away in the mines. What were those guys running after you for anyway?” A few other people had noticed the ruckus and were curious. A small crowd of about seven people was beginning to form up around the two of us.
“Those gentl’men have made an egregious error.” I look around at the crowd, making short eye contact with each of them, “They have mistayken me for another man who hurt them and their town.” I move up to stand on a crate to get a better view over the crowd and begin to project my voice, “As Otis here can attest I am a good man.” Otis nods, thanks Otis. “And those ruffians, those hooligans, are gonna do their best to do their worst to me.” The crowd is getting sympathetic now, excellent. Good timing too as those three Mercy men have retraced their steps and can quite clearly see me. “Please, I’m begging you, fine folks, model cit’zens, buy me enough time to flee this area and get myself to safety!” The crowd shake their heads and with grim determination form a line across the alley. Otis levels his rifle at the men.
“Ain’t nobody hurtin’ Billy Paxton! Turn yourselves around now before this gets ugly!”
Once again I didn’t stick around long enough to see how things turned out. I just ran. However, today was not a good day. I got out of the frying pan only to land back in the fire. I found myself to be in the vicinity of the train station and as I was catching my breath I noticed quite a few groups of people entering the plaza. As I looked at each group memories flashed in front of my eyes. The Parton sisters, the Scallawag gang, half the Bowman family…I could go on. It seemed like every person I had ran a grift on had come out to see me…in a rather final kind of way. I wonder which of my old partners had sold me out this time. Well whoever it was certainly made themselves a small fortune cashing in on that many bounties. I looked around and saw only one way out. I would have to leave Earth.
I hurry into the train station and loose myself in the crowd. I find a man in a nice suit and put on my best “anxious and nervous” persona and pull out a few forged bank notes from my jacket. By the time I finished with him he wouldn’t remember anything about the man who sold him the fake bank notes except for a nervous twitch and a stutter.
“Ex…excuse me sir! I am hoping you could help me out of a predicament!”
“Err, yes? What is it?” he seemed a little annoyed but was waiting for the train to depart so couldn’t exactly run off anywhere.
“Its just…I…I…I have a small problem at the moment. An e…em…emergency if you will. I must be paying off a friend’s bill and they won’t accept these bank notes. I was hoping I could sell them to you for enough to pay his bill?” I unfolded the notes and placed them in front of me with my head slightly tilted and a pleading look in my eyes.
“Well…these do…seem…to be legitimate bank notes. What’s stopping you from cashing them in yourself?” As usual the best forgeries are the ones with the small errors. People are quick enough to fill in the blanks and make excuses for the small mistakes when they want to see the real thing. Something I picked up quite quickly during that whole Mercy ordeal.
“The bank doesn’t have any br…branches in the area. I would have to leave the city and it would be a f…few days before I could come buh…back but I need the money now. Puh…please consider it! I’m only asking for three-quarters the veh…value of those notes.” And now he’ll haggle the price down…
“Hmmm…” the stranger looked at me in a conniving manner while he tried to sound like he was sorry he couldn’t help more and was hoping I didn’t notice; well I did, I was looking for it. “Very well but I’ve only got enough spare cash to pay you half the value. Take it or leave it.”
“That…that should be ok I guess. I hope my friend has the rest of the money.” I humbly accept his cold hard cash in exchange for my quite fake bank notes and once I’m out of sight rush toward the ticket counter.
It turns out tickets to Malifaux are a bit more expensive than I thought they would be. I’ll have to find another way on the train. Oh mercy it looks like some of my old marks have decided to start looking for me in the train station. Luckily for me in a inconspicuous corner the sound of people dicing can be heard.
I wagered my way into the train engineers’ game with the money from selling the forged bank notes. After doing well for a few rolls I made sure to lose most of my money. Finally, I made a desperate gesture. The rest of my money for tickets on the train and the pistol from one of the engineers. They said I would need a bit more cash so I pulled out some more forged bank notes as collateral and made the roll. Of course I made it and collected my prizes. Those blasted past marks must have been working together. They were all in the train station now and carefully working their way through the crowds. I decided to quickly leave the game and let the engineers keep my money and bank notes. I only had $100 worth of forgeries left but where I was going only guild script would be accepted so it probably wouldn’t much matter.
I had almost made it to the train when a strong hand grasped my arm. I shut my eyes, sure that this was it and turned to face my attacker. To my surprise it was an elderly woman with cataracts in one eye and scraggly white hair framing her face. She opened her mostly toothless mouth and said, “I have an important message for you, Sebastian!”
The thugs were all getting closer, I didn’t have time for this! Wait…how did she know my name? “I’m sorry miss but I don’t have time I must be going.” I struggled against her grasp but she somehow had an iron grip.
“It’s really quite important, lean close dear, and listen!” She pulled me down close to her mouth.
I struggled greatly then. One of the marks had seen me and were telling the others. They were getting closer and had murder in their eyes. “Really miss I’m truly sorry but I must be going. Release me!” However, my protestations did nothing to convince her.
“I know your fate, Sebastian, and now so will you. The rest is up to you…” and then she whispered in my ear two sentences I shall never forget. I turned to see that the thugs had gotten quite close now and were beginning to draw their weapons when the hag released me.
I turned around to give a parting word only to find that the hag had disappeared. Well by now you know me, I didn’t stay around long. I ran as fast as I could and leaped upon the departing train. Dodging a few bullets on my way. I handed my ticket to the conductor for validation and then made my way to my car.
And so…that’s when I met all you fine gentleman…