❝ Sunshine beatin' on the good times
Moonlight raisin' from the grave
String band playin' worn out honkey-tonks
Pretty young thing goin' dancin' in the rain❞

Charismatic with a spike-filled maw, a sweet talker from the deep southern Shroud— The man your mama warns you about. You might think him imposing, but there's warmth in a sinister smile and a heart in his laugh. He's easy-going, agreeable.. unless you find buttons to push, or threaten one of his own. There's plenty of rumors out there in the woods about him; some say he runs a poacher crew rivaling the Redbellies and the Coeurlclaws. They call themselves the 'Blackfoot', a sign of 'lucky' death. Some folk say he's been seen in and out of a tavern called 'The Lucky Foot', no doubt their base by name alone.