Backround: After getting abandoned on the streets of London at the age of 3 Calculate grew up becoming a crook. However at the age of 12 he found a book and was courious about it. so he found a man to teach him to read and in months he was hooked. at the age of 15 he learned that his parents had been hanged for crimes so he decided to leave the country. it took him 5 years to get money and finally he got passage to America. he stayed in new amsterdam for 3 years but decided it reminded him of london. So he moved west to Hatrack bringing only books and the clothes on his back to start a new life.

[This message has been edited by Calculate (edited April 28, 2005).]

Age: 18

Description: Fly is slight of build, she has the look of a Scottish lass, dark eyes and hair and an olive skin tone. If you look past the rough edges she does have a certain appeal. She wears the tartan of her clan, carries a rams’ horn crook and travels with no shoes upon her feet even in the dead of winter. She has a determined quiet air about her.

Knack: Known only in the context of working sheep: she knows what they need, she can bring a newborn lamb back from the brink of death and bring sweet milk from it’s mother. She also has an uncanny relationship with her collie dog. In addition she has some sort of a knack for spinning, as have all the women of her line, though she lacks the patience to explore it.

Relatives: Her father is her only known relative in America (I’m not sure if he is alive or dead yet)

Pets: Not so much a pet as an invaluable coworker and friend, her dog is always with her. Clun was a gift from her father.

Background: Fly is, as her surname states, a shepherdess. She is not exactly a traditional 1830’s girl, but she is the only daughter of Angus, an immigrant from Scotland so she only knows what he taught her. Her life in America has been spent traveling with her father offering services to farms in need of someone to maintain flocks during lambing and in summer pastures. Since at this time few farms have coins to spare for flocks large enough to require such services work is scarce and money is short.

Age: 31

Profile: Although currently deaf, Jake wasn't born that way. Because at one point he could hear, he will say a word here and there, but largely he avoids the "embarassment" of using his voice for fear that he'll talk too loud or it will come out unintelligible for those listening. Jake does not "read lips." He is 5'11", black hair and fair looking. He's one of those guys that the more you get to know him, the more attractive he becomes.

Knack: Due largely to his deafness, Jake has a propensity for reading people's faces and body language and understanding who they are and what they're really trying to say to him immediately. It's not always perfect, so he usually keeps this information to himself.

Occupation: He's a great handyman when people give him a chance. His mother, Aida, owned a General Store a while back...

Owner: Jeff, South Dakota. Proud father of 2 young boys, devoted husband and enthusiastic biker.

(For those that "knew" the old Jake Reader from the AOL days, please consider this a re-invented Jake with a whole new story to get to know.)

Age: 62 yrs old

Physical Description: About 6 ft; thin & wrinkly; grey hair (white in places) worn short, with slight curls on top. Fargus has a long nose, square chin, and not quite all of his teeth. He’s often got a chaw of tobaccy in his cheek.

Knack: Fargus can be very persuasive

Background: Fargus was born to Elreath and Maude Physiker. He grew up in Appalachee not far from his cousin Ahavah’s family. Fargus had a younger sister named Maybelle and a young brother who did not make it past his second week. Elreath Physiker died in a tragic cattle stampede when Fargus was just 16. Fargus arranged a marriage between Maybelle and the town Vintner, left his mother in their care, and sold the rest of his father’s estate. He used the profits to travel to Camelot to enroll in the college and study medicine.

Description: 84 years old. He is 5'6". His hair is very thin and grey, and his clothes are tatters that look to be randomly sewn together in a mishmashed robe. The can he uses to walk is about three feet tall, dark black, made of oak, and is in very bad shape.

Knack: The old man can sense if someone has accomplished their deepest desires and goals.

Background: He wanders about from town to town, and has just recently entered Hatrack. His dog, a black labrador, follows faithfully wherever he goes. You may see him talking to the dog, and at times it seems as if the dog understands what he is saying. Mostly, he tends to avoid people, and will only intervene with society if he thinks it is necessary.

Written by: Nate Halliday (Blackthorne)

Age: 23 years

Physical description: Slender and petite at just over 5' tall and just over 100 lbs. Sara looks younger than her 23 years. She is somewhere between plain and pretty with fair skin, thick brown hair, blue eyes and high cheekbones adding a spark of beauty to otherwise rather ordinary features.

Personality: Very quiet and a bit on the shy side (especially when it comes to men). Sara tends to blend into the surroundings and doesn't want to push herself or her opinions on anyone. She loves teaching, but only when she has a willing student. She wants to be friendly, and is open to all, but her excessivce shyness and quietness limits her number of friends.

Knack: Sara isn't too familiar with knacks--they weren't talked about in her Christian home, but she knows that she is gifted in several areas. She is an avid learner, and gains knowledge quickly. She is a skillful peacemaker and can see both sides of an argument. She is kind to every living creature, and animals and people both quickly come to trust her because of her gentleness and compassion.

Background: Sara was born in the east, but when she was young her parents decided that they didn't like the crowded conditions of the east, and so packed up their family and moved west. They settled in a small town a few days west of Hatrack. Her father, a veterinarian is held in higher regard than the county doctor. He knows animals, especially cows better than anyone else in the west, and his healing hands have saved the livelihood of many a farmer. When the Doc isn't around, people just call on the veterinarian when they are sick or injured.

Sara's mother is the town midwife. Having birthed 12 babies herself, 8 of which survived, everyone respects her expertise. Sara was the first of the 8, and, as first borns are want to be was a bit independent. She loved growing up in the west where the greensong could still be heard (her childhood playmates were Reds, and she naturally picked up the sound of the greensong). All of nature was her friend.

Sara's parents were very openminded, and noted that she wasn't particularly suited to marrying at a young age and just being a wife and having babies--her mind was sharp and she needed education. At the age of 15, Sara had completed all the education available to her in the west, (her parents taught her beyond what the schools could teach), and so she was sent to live with her grandparents in the East and attend school there. After attending a fine college for young ladies, Sara began teaching in small schools in the east.

She performed well as a teacher, but during all those years, her heart was still in the west. She longed to return west and teach those children who as of yet had little opportunity to learn anything besides basic reading 'riting, and 'rithmatic. Thus it was that Sara ended up in the Hatrack Inn.

Will she stay in Hatrack? Good question. At the time she is just passing through, but is looking for opportunity to teach in a small town school somewhere in this area...

[note on the spelling of the name: Sara's family is originally from eastern Europe, and this is the Eastern European spelling of Sara.]

Written by: Sara Dzimianski

Serendipity Rust

Physical Description:He is of indefinable age, but it's evident he has a broad experience.

His silver hair is queued down to the small of his back; his beard a copper red; his eyes are a pale gray.

Nicknames/Aliases: Becca, 'Everyone's/My Favorite Little Irishwoman'

Age: 14

Gender:Female

Title: Kid/Student, Gardener, Artist/Muscician

Knack: A knack for growing things. She can make most things grow most places, partially by just knowing what she needs to do to accompish this and partially by knackery.

Also has a bit of a knack/skill at art and music, usually based on the natural world. She has a pretty good singing voice, but doesn't like it, and so sticks with a small recorder-like wooden pipe given to her by her father.

Pets: An Irish Setter named BK (Becca's Keeper), but normally referred to by a name that sounds more like Beaky, though sometime Beekay. They think he's a mutt, since he's... gargantuan (only word), as tall as Jess.

Physical Appearance: About four feet, eight inches; curly red hair a little past shoulder length; pale, thickly freckled skin; with green, slightly elongated eyes. She is long-fingered, enourmous foot-ed, but aside from that quite petite, though well-endowed for her size, age, and level of growth. She has a large scar down her left cheek starting at the corner of her left eye, as well as many others, though most of these are less visible. One is across the back of her left hand, and one is down her right leg from her knee to her big toe. Some of these she assumes are from whatever killed her parents, and others are from later... escapades.

She only wears shoes when neccesary, and then homemade sandals (light boots in the winter or when neccesary). She prefers comfortable green, brown, or blue clothes.

Often wears a pair of glasses a Thrift-Glassmith made her with dark lenses, as well as a delicate silver locket in the shape of a shamrock and a rose together, made for her by a Bergarbeiter-Jewelsmith (German Thrift branch). It contains a veritable photo album; pictures of her mother and father, her adotive mother and father, and a few pictures of her close friends.

Personality: Shy-ish, but cheery and talkative (and overly frank) with those she knows. She has a temper, and is pretty used to getting her way, because the Thrifts and their associated branches and neighbors all basically doted on her, with the notable exception of most of those close to her age. She is a little spoiled, a little selfish, but not horribly so any longer, and it wasn't ever really bad. She is also even more perceptive than a Thrift.

Political Ideas: She's pretty mature, but has few political ideas. Obviously, however, she has the Thrift thriftiness and belief in equality.

History: Born in Ireland, she was orphaned as a toddler (no one she knows knows how) and was sent to live with her father's sister, who was her last remaining living relative and married to one of the bad apples found in every bunch, a member of the Thrift branch Delver.

She was saved from these, shall we say, incompetent adoptive parents and went to live with the Delvers in Vermont shortly after she was orphaned. The parents who were raising her moved down south to New Sweden and built a new cawehtab (see Thrift post), one built into a hill with many garden terraces. She lived near the Thrift family of my other characters and was pretty close to them.

She always had few friends, but was absolutely loyal to those she did. Her two closest friends were Jess (mostly because she tagged along with him as if she were his younger sibling and not his older adoptive cousin (adoptive wrond word, but gets the idea across). He never objected because she didn't annoy him and because he could ditch her at any time (he thinks). She learned some of his skills by watching, but is only humanly skilled, as good as anyone without... help.

When Jess and James left she was angry and tried to follow them, doing pretty well until she lost them up somewhere near the Mason-Dixon Line (For those of you who don't know, the MD-PA border. It may or may not be the same thing in this world). She returned New Sweden and lived there. Four years later, she went westward with the Thrift settlers, scouting ahead to find Hatrack River, which is where they believe the Soldiers and Catie are. Jean sent them a message with Comet, which is why he isn't there.

Note on Thrift Settlers: Their method of settling is this: determine a target. Send out hundreds of groups of settlers along the line between the point of origin and the target. From the original cawehtab, they tunnelalong this line. The first group builds a cawehtab a moderatley short distance away and tunnels forward. The tunnel from behind joins up with them, and in the front they join up with the cawehtab ahead of them. They repeat until they reach the target.

Languages: English, perhaps a few words of Gaelic vaguely remembered from before she came to America.

(Tell me: is she too... stereotypical?)

[This message has been edited by Walker (edited August 26, 2005).]

[This message has been edited by Walker (edited August 26, 2005).]

[This message has been edited by Walker (edited August 28, 2005).]

Craig MacGregor

Was a childhood friend of Penpunt's, and was also born in Scotland. His family had likewise emigrated to the proposed millsite at the falls in Darien, Dryden. He grew to maturity in the colonies, but their family did not remove to the mountains(with Penpunt's) when the mill finally failed. Craig has made many an English King frown by pinching his likeness found on a penny; his people make the Thrift name seem to be a shortened SpendThrift.

Not liking the work he'd had in the mill much, he'd eventually returned to Scotland seeking 'other' opportunities, and then returned to the colonies on that 1824 voyage with Penpunt. Ice made him(and his family) wealthy, but the 'training' he'd received while back in the highlands makes him suitable for no other work but as a paid assassin. His training is in the many ways a man can deliver 'silent death;' he's never been known to carry a firearm of any description.

The man truly knows no fear; and that's why he can be so rude or abrasive at times, though his manner is that of a courtly gentleman. Friends, for him, are hard to come by; who can put up with conduct that leads to confrontation for very long?

He is a logician and keenly observant. After sailing with Pigg, he could easily design(with all the necessary accouterments, and none of the unnecessary frills) and build a small craft, and sail it expertly on the open sea; all from having observed what went on during that one crossing, and figuring out for himself exactly what must be done, and when.

A tall man with short black hair and an uneven stubble upon his chin. He wears a bulky black leather coat even if it's hotter than hell outside. He wears heavy riding boots with stars at the heels even though he has no horse and he is dressed in all black inside his coat as well. His face is almost always hidden under a black and worn wide-brimmed hat.

He's a stranger to Hatrack, and a mysterious one at that. He's virtually broke, but seems to have an endless supply of cigars. He carries a 14-inch knife wherever he goes and sports an old single-shot pistol that never leaves the holster. He doesn't like to talk about himself and has a knack for intimidating the hell out of folk he's never even met.

Nobody knows where he's coming from. Nobody knows where he might go. Nobody knows what his intentions are. Nobody even knows if Red Marshal is his real name.

[This message has been edited by Firestorm (edited September 13, 2005).]

[This message has been edited by Firestorm (edited September 13, 2005).]

Jerry H[ilton] Baker

Headman of the infamous 'Baker Boys' and smarter than any of the rest by far, he'd come north on a steam powered stern-wheeler to seek out the two coins Spence brought up from Dryden. The intelligence they had of the gold that went missing was gotten on the sly; none of the Bakers knew of their true importance[only their value on the 'black market' which was due more to this value than the tiny amount of yellow metal they contain].

Jerry was a breeder whose dogs were sought after the world over. His expertise with firearms[and the clever use of the trained dogs] kept the gang safe at all times; but his sudden appearance in Vigor Church had required the 'boys' to split up. The dogs and fine weapons were not brought along on this trip; his cleverness would have to suffice.

His clan had descended from the 'hill country,' located in today's northeastern Alabama, way back in 1816. It had been precipitated by the famine resulting from the eruption of Tambora in the previous year. Times were hard for all, but the Bakers preyed on the ignorant who were owners of large tracts, but unacquainted with the borrowing power those acres represented at virtually any bank. The 'improvements' to the farm places those Bakers left in their wake, while real enough, also represented mortgages which, all too often, led to foreclosures and the eventual loss of all the land.

Age:12

Description: Jeffy is tall for his age and awful serious, so folks assume he�s older than he is. He�s got wiry black hair that stands up no matter how hard he tries to get it to lay down, so he just quit trying. He keeps it cut pretty short on account of the longer it is the more attention it draws to him (what with it standing up and all) and Jeffy don�t like attention much. His eyes are really dark, almost black, but he don�t hardly let nobody see �em ever� he�s always looking somewhere else whenever someone happens to look at him, and when he�s talking to you his eyes are always on something only he can see behind you or next to you. He�s scrawny enough that folks�d think he�s ill if he didn�t move with such quickness and energy. When he talks he talks really soft and with a slight accent, but so slight that nobody wonders too hard about where it�s from. He�s always dressed in clothes that are obviously old but clean, and boots that look like maybe they were passed down from his great-great grandpappy.

Knack: He knows what folks or critters are afraid of

Relatives: Parents Josue and Marta both dead

Written by: Matt McDonell

Jimbo, Jim to his friends, is a traveler. In his wanderings, he's tried as hard he can to pick up any artifacts and mystic items. As a result, Jim has a host of items that enhance knacks and negate others. He wears a few, thus appearing to be much more than he really is (the only knack Jim has is that he's good at finding things(think Finder by Emma Bull)).

Jim also owns a horse named Mendosus(Latin for defective). He pretends not to think much of the horse, but it's actually his prized possession (though he thinks of it as just a friend.) For more about Mendosus, read in "The Fringe Mart"

Physically, Jim is unremarkable. He has brown hair, blue eyes, and is slightly overweight. He's average height. Alvin, or anyone with see-through abilities like the Maker's, can see that Jim is not what he appears to be on the surface. The features remain the same, just kinder.

If approached about slavery or other controversial topics, Jimbo will steer the conversation to other topics. He is not rude, but he WILL NOT answer questions about religion, politics, slavery, etc.

Jim is a genial fellow, always willing to help out a person in need. However, Jim charges for just about everything. He isn't a miser, he just believes that you don't value something you don't pay for. Most of the time, he asks for food or other essentials; he has little use for gold.

Currently, Jimbo is the owner/operator of the Fringe Mart, an eclectic shop selling a variety of items, some mystical, some not. It's odd though... no one saw his wagon pull into town...

Jim has not met anyone from the Alvin Maker series (unless'n yer countin' offscreen characters like Jefferson).

Jim speaks fluent Latin and English. He is well-educated, but tries to hide it. He also knows a bit of French, Spanish, and several Red tongues.

You didn't do anything that really violated that rule/guideline, but that does mean that Jim wouldn't have met Taleswapper.

He pays close attention to clothing detail. For instance, you will NEVER see him with dirty or crumpled clothing unless he just had to chase down a culprit, which doesn't happen often in hatrack.

Peter takes his occupation very seriously. He tries to be the absolute squeaky clean image of a sheriff. His posture is straight, his chin raised, and not a bit of fear or hesitation will ever be seen on him. He sticks strictly to the rules of the law. Anyone manipulating anyone else with their knack he makes sure will be jailed, he knows exactly when someone has crossed the line, but he never arrests them before they do. In other words, he's a perfect jailer. His knack happens to be distinguishing right from wrong, though he doesn't know it, and so he knows instantly whether someone has done something against the law or not.

You might want to redefine the Sheriff's knack a bit: right and wrong don't neccearily line up with legal and illegal. Maybe his knack is sensing legality- right/wrong are a bit ephemeral.

And I don't think that using a knack on another is illegal- it may have just been me, but it seemed that knacks had more official recognition than magic in our world, but less than in some others- I don't think that using one on another would be illegal. Especially since the knacks aren't always conscious.

But I see what you mean, with the right/wrong thing. Maybe I'll change it to he can sense guilt in someone... A good knack for a cop, I think.

It wasn't really that he used his knack on me, it's that he used it to get me away from there, and they'd only feel the need to do that if something's up that they don't think the police would like. So the arrest was made because he was trying to hide the truth from a cop.

Yeah, guilt would probably work... unless he went up against a completely amoral sociopath, or even someone who just didn't care about the laws.

Hmmmm... I'd just like to say what Jean is IC: the only evidence is that the oh-so-fearless sherriff felt afraid. That is of dubious legality- his arresting Jackson- but who says that the sherriff can't bend the rules a bit?

Age: 28

Physical Description: Lean, but muscled. Not as in good of shape as he used to be, but still strong enough to be of use in a scuffle. Blond hair, and brown eyes, with a lightly tanned complexion. About 5' 10" in height, about 180 lbs.

Knack: Very quick reflexes

Relatives:
Guardian "Father" - Trevor Wolfe
Guardian "Mother" - Vivian Bates Wolfe
Biological Mother - Narnia Carpenter
Biological Father - Unknown
Uncle - Paul Williams

Background:
Steve is a man who has, through hard work and perseverence, overcome a troubled past. Born as the illegitimate child of Narnia Williams in Liverpool, England, Steve was destined for the unforgiving streets of the United Kingdom's port city. However, due to the intervention of Narnia's older brother, Paul, infant Steven was received into the home of Trevor and Vivian Wolfe. Narnia was at first heartbroken, but realized that she could not provide for her child in the way that the Wolfes could. Steve doesn't really know his mother.

Trevor Wolfe was a successful blacksmith, expert at repairing wagons and forging horseshoes. He also tried his hand at weaponsmithing, but was not as successful, though he was able to create a few knives, as well as rings, chains, and other knicknacks. Well known and respected in the community, he taught young Steven from an early age how to smelt ore and temper steel.

In his youth, Steve showed an innate talent for getting himself into mischief. He would often be found teasing horses, or jumping fences with his friends. In his teenage years, Steven told his parents that he did not wish to be a blacksmith any longer. Instead, he enlisted for service in the British Royal Navy. Three years found him a very able sailor, with his learned smithing skills put to use repairing cannons and other various ship "problems". He was eventually raised to the rank of Captain at the age of 26, after a seven-year career in the British Royal Navy. He denied any higher promotions which would have taken him away from the men that he had come to know and love. Though never able to participate in any well-known conflicts, Steve was instrumental in stopping several Liverpool smuggling rings, for which he earned the enmity of several Liverpool underworld leaders.

During his time as a sailor, Steve found the sport of fisticuffs. It was not uncommon for the sailors to place bets on the fights that would inevitably occur during off-duty time. Though the officers were told to discourage such roughhousing, most were heavily involved with the gambling circuit, and ignored superior orders. Steve became quite adept, never entering any tournaments, but usually able to make a few pounds on a good night simply by defeating one of his shipmates.

Steve's past eventually came back to haunt him. He was confronted by the hitmen of one of the smuggling rings that he had helped shut down, and had to escape onto a ship bound for America (with the assistance of a few Navy friends) to get out of the ring's reach.

Now, having wandered his way along, Steve is looking for work, and is optimistic that the small town of Hatrack might offer him hope.

Oh, and "hoping for hope"? Heh.

If I should need to explain the surname, then let it stand that his great [adopted] grandfather was from northern Europe, where there was a large wolf infestation, and that man was instrumental in clearing up that situation.

As for the Noble blood this that and the other thing, I don't know, you don't know, and though we could ask OSC, the matter isn't really all that important in the grand scheme of things, is it?

Aren't I hilarious?

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Knack: Making candy and pastries just right-- basically judging temperature and pressure; and manipulating them to some degree; entirely by instinct.

Physical Appearance: Middling-tall, but not exorbitantly so; brown hair, usually cut short; red-seared skin from much time spent exposed to the wind and the rain and the fires of a big oven; blue eyes.

Personality: Friendly, but not overly so, more concerned with making his snacks than with selling them. Enjoys giving free stuff away to kids-- possibly not the best business model; but he usually makes a pretty good business off adults.

Somewhat gullible, tends to spend his time with his head in a cloud of confectioner's sugar; likes to read but it usually too busy making snacks. Strong sense of right and wrong; weak sense of yours and mine. In his younger days he was occasionally in trouble with the law for things like wandering out of stores with jars of sugar; or similar transgressions.

Usually pretty laid-back, but occasionally comes out with a comment at first innocous, but on later review sharp and sarcastic. Also occasionally gets very angry.

Political Ideas: Raving lunatic liberal.

History: Born in New Sweden, learned the confectioner's art in Philadelphia; traveled south to the Carribean to learn about how sugar was made; gained a revulsion for slavery and a price on his head, from when he accidentally wandered (read: sailed away very fast) with a cargo hold full of slaves headed north.

Came to Hio and Hatrack River after dropping his passengers off in free territory on the coastline; somewhat concerned that trackers will follow him, looking for the reward, so changed his name from Timothy Confectioner.