Name: Ole Man Balthazar
Profession: War veteran
A bit under six feet tall, heavily bearded, hunched with permanent pain, and haunted by experiences he would pay handsomely to forget (if he had any coin, which he doesn’t), Ole Man Balthazar (Bal to those he don’t feel like killin’ presently, thank you) is a grizzled veteran of the Black Powder Wars. Which side Bal fought on in the wars that put the Guild at the top of the power structure back on Earth depends on who’s asking; in any case, the horrors he saw in combat made him chronically jumpy. He startles at loud noises, looks over his shoulder at every turn, and never, ever sits with his back to a room. Although he still carries the battle-scarred rifle he carried into battle—it served him well and saved his life countless time—the old girl hasn’t worked for nigh on 10 years. Instead, he uses this treasured object most often as a stick to poke things with, or a club to beat those he does feel like killin’.
Bal has been subsisting, just barely, on poker winnings, odd jobs offered by Black Powder War veterans who came out sounder of mind than he, and the occasional free beer from sympathetic bartenders. He has heard that there is work for men good with their hands in Malifaux, and hopes to make a fortune there sufficient to fund a comfortable (and safe) retirement. Tired of the killing, he worries a little that good with his hands is a euphemism for killer-for-hire, but a tired, desperate man asks few questions.