Birthday: Yaris, 35, 2689
Age: 30
FC: Tom Waits
Place of Origin: On the road, south of Blackhenge.
Current Location: Vienda
Occupation: Musician, salesman and some time thief.
Player Name: Andy McCullough
Aodh is tall for a wick, rail thin and wiry with long limbs.
His hair is reddish brown and wild. He has been living in the capital long enough to have picked up some of the fashion. He dresses flamboyantly, though the clothes are often worn or second hand, he wears them with flair. He has a copper ring in his right ear lobe.
When Aodh is performing he prefers bright waistcoats, often in garish patterns such as check or paisley. Though when going about his other business he wears more sombre clothes.
The sleeves on his shirts are normally rolled up, to hide the fact they are often too short for his long arms. The knuckles of his nimble fingered hands are scarred from past fist fights. He can normally be seen smoking, either hand rolled cigarettes or a clay pipe.
Aodh is proud of his wick heritage. The Elzo might not be one of the great clans, but over the generations they had produced some truly gifted musicians and entertainers.
His pride and sharp tongue have more than once landed him in trouble, and when his quick wit or swift feet couldn't get him out of a bad situation he'd rely on his fists.
What he longs for is a world free from tyranny, where folk are judged on their merits, not their parentage. However, he knows that wouldn't come about unless some folks are ready to get their hands bloody.
Aodh grew up as part of a wick caravan, it was formed of three clans, his clan the Elzo were entertainers.
Not important but well regarded with the caravan, bringing in money in the settlements they passed through, through performance and other less legal means at times.
Growing up on the road mostly with other Wick, family or otherwise Aodh had a pretty easy early life. It was only when they encountered other folk that the trouble started. Galdori throwing their weight around as well as humans, sometimes just harsh words, sometimes fists and rocks.
The night that made Aodh decided to fight back, the straw that broke the proverbials back happened, when he and two of his clan brothers decided to celebrate a good evenings performance with a few pints in a nearby tavern.
A few became many and the brothers became loud, which would have been fine. If they hadn't been in the wrong tavern at the wrong time. A galdor, some son of some rich family or other took exception to.
'Having to share air with road rat trash.' Cinad, the eldest heard this had suggested. 'If the young sir does not like the air then perhaps he would kindly go fuck himself.' This of course started fist fight which spread through the bar and the three brothers were thrown out..
That they thought was the end of it, later the three were jumped by thugs, who made it clear who had sent them.
The brothers were very badly beaten, Cinad later died from his injuries. He had been singled out, the lead thug snarling as they rained kicks and club blows down on him.
'You should respect your betters, half breed scum.'
Once Aodh was recovered and the funeral rights had been performed he left the caravan, bound for the capital.
That feels like long ago now, Aodh has been operating as a Cadet for a year or so. Though he'd been doing his best to bloody galdori noses on his own terms since before that.
By day he makes his living selling brushes and other items he makes, or as a musician. Or as a thief.
Poor
Physical
Good
Social
Good
Short term Goals.
Make a name for himself as a musician, earn enough money to move out of the Dives.
Get back on the road, travel a bit. It’s been too long since
he felt fresh free air.
Long term Goals.
Bring about social reform, equal rights and to better the lot of the downtrodden.