Orson Greaves
Rogue (Thief) 7
Orson Greaves
Species
Human
Appearance
Orson Greaves is a heavily built human man whose formidable belly arrives half a heartbeat before the rest of him. His movements are surprisingly light for his size, with a thief's rolling gait and a habit of pivoting on the balls of his feet when someone becomes dangerous. His face is broad, ruddy, and permanently arranged around a delighted grin that never reaches his cold gray eyes. A thick handlebar mustache droops over his upper lip, its bristles stiff with cheap pipe tobacco and smelling faintly of burnt raisins. His hands are square, scarred, and nimble, capable of cracking a knuckle-duster against a jaw or palming a key without interrupting a joke. He leaves behind an impression of noisy warmth, like a tavern hearth with a blade hidden in the coals. The contradiction is immediate and unsettling: despite his vulgar booming laughter and extravagant bulk, he can become utterly silent when calculating exactly how much pain a person can afford.
“A booming, tobacco-rough baritone full of theatrical laughter, vulgar endearments, and precise financial metaphors. He can shift into a whisper so soft that listeners lean toward him, only to discover that the quiet words are more frightening than the loud ones.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A thick tobacco-stained handlebar mustache with one side permanently curled higher than the other.
Cold gray eyes that remain motionless while the rest of his face performs cheerfulness.
A crimson coat embroidered with tiny brass waterwheels, each wheel representing a district under his supervision.
A pale scar around his left wrist from an old manacle, usually hidden beneath a gold cuff.
His booming laugh can abruptly stop mid-note when he notices a useful lie.
Voice
“A booming, tobacco-rough baritone that makes every insult sound like a toast and every threat sound like an overdue invitation.”
Clothing
An expensive crimson-and-gold coat with oversized brass buttons, black trousers tucked into polished work boots, a cream shirt darkened at the collar by tobacco, and a thick leather bandolier packed with overdue warrants, lockpicks, sealing wax, glass flasks, and folded blackmail notes. His brass knuckle-dusters are engraved with the Brasswater Consortium seal.
Body Language
Orson spreads his arms when greeting people as if welcoming old friends, but keeps one thumb hooked beneath his bandolier where a lockpick and razor are hidden. He leans too close during negotiations, tilts his head while listening, and smiles more broadly whenever someone lies. In combat, his belly and coat make him appear clumsy until he slips sideways with startling grace.
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