Tallis Mann

Tallis is aged 54 and although he only stands a meagre 5ft 2in tall he is forcefully broad and well-built for a man of his years. His body appears to comprise of bulky sinews, muscles, and those gorged type of pulsating veins that pop out of one’s neck. His eyes are dark and hold a cinematic flicker of events that cannot be unseen.   

His expression seems to be fixed in a serious glare of ire and impatience. Perhaps the wind changed, or more likely he has harnessed the essence of grumpy old man and has been injecting it ever since. He dislikes everything and everyone. He is clearly weathered by both time and experience and we get the impression he quietly enjoys being a grumpy old bull.

In his younger years he was a great warrior, a powerful and feared General. Outside the field he was astute, a capable constructor of complex strategies. Yet in the midst of battle Tallis was renowned for having a temperament of fire, a man who would scarce think before barging into the opposition. His fellow soldiers will tell you he was a stubborn bull, not to be enraged lest the ‘red mist’ cloud over and his ferocity should be unleashed. When enraged back then, we are told he was capable of terrible violence.

Now he is retired. 

Lukas granted him charge of one stronghold which must be a major fall from General to a job that equates as a glorified butler. Working as a servant does not suit him well, however being in charge of the upkeep of Draygun manor is important to him. Acquiring this stronghold was his primary achievement in days past thus it is fitting he is now master of the house. He is instructed by Lukas to accommodate certain important guests, at present the most frequent visitors are Dirzryn and Ungus.  Considering his proud and prolific past we imagine it must peeve Tallis a great deal to be ordered around by the likes of Ungus. 

These days he rarely leaves the mansion. That said his judgement is still not to be questioned. When he asks us for water we skittle like our lives depend on it. Who better to remind the elitist how pathetic they are?

Tallis deserves every iota of respect he gets and he has certainly earned it from us.

Draygun Trio

John Bothen, Morin Scathe and Riaf Amara

As pictured left to right John, Morin and Riaf are ‘professional’ city loiterers and layabouts who act as though they are joined at the hip; these three expend more energy avoiding work than it would take to do the job.

So far as we can gather they wander the streets, especially after hours and sometimes stand in places, but don’t proactively do anything.

John says he likes whittling wood and that they sometimes play cards.

They express they are not criminals because petty theft ‘doesn’t look good on a CV.’

The fact that the irony and sheer stupidity of this statement eludes them probably speaks volumes for their collective intelligence.

However as not to judge we interviewed each separately despite the unified portrait.

John Bothen

John is probably the smartest of the three but he’s so slow and lacking in confidence that he is always overpowered by Morin and Riaf. Having little confidence and slovenly speech John’s opinions are discarded as unintelligent. Although more brawns than brain, we find he is quite astute. He describes the reasons why he isn’t clever, in a far more articulate way than you might expect. That said listening to his long-winded and painfully measured speech we understand why his so-called friends often ask him to stop talking. Securely under the thumb of Morin and Riaf it is apparent that John believes this stigma that he is ‘stupid’ and henceforth he discards good ideas in favour of theirs.

Morin Scathe

Is quite possibly schizophrenic by our deduction; he may be the jittery sort but it is clear he is leader of their clique.

In person, Morin is like a man who has recently ingested a great deal of amphetamine in so much as he cannot stand still. He likes to nibble his fingers and fluff his orange hair, both of which appear to be degrading and falling out from such intense attention. Morin is not easy to talk to and often sub-switches conversations to the point where we wonder how slow-paced John can ever keep up.

Ultimately paranoid Morin jigs on the spot; he rambles and needlessly fumbles in his pockets. He asks very random questions but never waits for the answer.

A bossy and demanding person he enjoys the company of Riaf and John because they do as he dictates without question. It becomes clear that Morin distrusts everyone and everything and that he is dogged by a severe worry and paranoia he cannot control.

Thankfully Riaf and John are present and able to convince him that the light reflectors aren’t part of any conspiracy to shoot him and we now regret calling the art session a ‘shoot.’

Riaf Amara

If Riaf looks a bit stoned that’s probably because he is. Riaf is easy-going but he smokes far too much. Clad in buckled black slacks, boots and a three quarter length anorak he resembles a cross between a greasy wyvern rider and your atypical geek. We don’t really want to know what he knows about transport, be it in leathers or the fine tuning of the machine itself. We want to know even less about his other so-called interests and even less about any perversions he has towards the artistic renditions of such things. Yet Riaf does like to talk, in a droll ‘I think I’m entertaining’ point beyond anyone’s ability to actually listen. Although I guess if we were saddled with John and Morin as best friends we’d also talk to ourselves.

Of the few real facts we gleaned we found that Riaf cares little for tradition and regularly horrifies his proud family. Out of the three he has the wealthiest background. He grins at us when explaining how he was ‘meant’ to be another ‘stuffed-up’ member of his house. It seems he cares little for that lifestyle at present and sees wandering the cold cobbled streets as a vague liberation.

We feel it should be noted that Riaf’s fashion sense is roughly as keen as his inability to disobey Morin, i.e. non-existent.