Barron Wick

Barron Wick is one of the more feared villains in the Multiverse. The holder of the Death seat on the Council of 21 maintains many villainous operations in a variety of Realities. A public figure of some infamy he is nevertheless reputed to be eloquent and charming behind his frightening death mask.

#### History

Born to a local baron and his loving wife who desperately wanted a family; a happy life no doubt. Yet this is not the hand Whitaker was dealt by the fates. Thanks to the meddling's of the multi-dimensional entity known as Death, Whitaker’s family would play host to an experiment; one devised to sire children with death as their true lineage. Like all of his kind Whitaker was born into death. His father was stricken ill and passed six months after conception. His mother passing in childbirth and he himself was stillborn. Only taking his first breath once the umbilical cord was cut.

Very little is known about how he came to live past that night. Rumor has it that only the momentary sliver of kindness and compassion from a friend of his now dead mother who acted as doula saved his life. Cursed with the veil of death; to which no mortal creature can remain at ease while the looming feeling of death hangs on the air. She forged a will, stole away into the night with the child, and sent him down the creek. With nothing but a name scrawled onto some paper, and a small bundle of money for whomever may find and take in the hapless child.

Fished out by an angler and the money stolen Whitaker was off to what would remain his home for the rest of his short life. Treated like a servant, and hid away when would be parents came to adopt. Even still, after years of being told, he was unwanted, Whitaker remained hopeful he would find a happy ending for himself. That optimism proved to be his downfall. His foster mother told him on his sixth birthday, that he was being thrown a party. In reality however, the cumulative effect of the aura that followed him was too much to bear.

Deemed a curse and an omen of death by the small town Whitaker's fate was sealed. The ever-present threat of death brought out the worst in people, and the party being thrown for the boy was not a birthday party, it was a hunting party. Dragged into the town square and stripped of his shoes, the bottom of his left foot was cut open and he was told to run. And so he did; every step stung, and with hunters and dogs right on his heels; the boy did not get far.

Scared and alone, his pleas for help fell on deaf ears. Everyone perceived what he was, and no one wanted to see him alive the next morning. Finally the hunters closed in and a knife found it’s way into his chest. The last thing he saw as he was flung onto the cobblestone alleyway was the toothy grin of the man who cut his life short. As he bled out and the sounds of the laughing men of the hunting party echoed in his ears; Whitaker had one thought. “I don't want to die.” That thought was so strong that within him it resonated with the world around him.

Thanks to the one power, in which he had inherited from his true father death. The boy’s wish resonated with more than just the world around him, it inadvertently created a tether to himself across the multiverse. In the last few seconds of his life, he saw stretching out before him the ever-forking branches of the multiverse. To which was superimposed onto it a silken web, connecting every branch, at every divergence, every segment where two threads converged was a version of himself still alive. He knew not the consequences of what he did, or even how he, in the last seconds of his dwindling life affixed himself to this infinitely expanding web. This unbreaking soul tether led his soul to a new body. Where he woke up with memories he did not remember making, and a life he did not remember living.

Much of what came after this is unknown. Whitaker had lived a cumulative of 15 life times, but remained a child at heart as he never survived past the age of nine in any given life. The countless deaths had led him to become jaded and filled with hate for all humanity. All the more, nevertheless, after years of being told, he was unwanted Whitaker remained hopeful he would find a happy ending for himself. He accepted it and moved on for his life, but his hatred for his “Father” and humanity grew each day.

He disappeared after this, and nothing and no one seemed to notice. Legends and stories popped up from time to time about “Death's children” and how death always followed them. Always a murmur on the winds of each reality he awoke to but soon even those grew quiet.

It was not until his debut to the Council of 21 of the Arcane theocracy did Whitaker Jones reappear. Without pause or hesitation he burst into the room in which the council of 21 was holding a meeting. The veil of death hanging impenetrable on the man and all present could not merely feel it, but see it draped over him like a dark cowl. Frozen in fear or perhaps curiosity, the council could only watch as he strutted over to the holder of the seat of death. With one motion he ripped their soul from their body, shredding it in totality. Not merely slaying them but removing their very energy from the cycle of life and death. Pushing the lifeless husk of the last holder of the seat of death to the floor, he looked to the council and stated calmly. “ I am uniquely qualified for this position. Raised by the Hanged man and the biological child of The entity death itself. If any deem to question my position here now among the council, speak presently. Otherwise let's continue on; there is much to discuss tonight.”

Not one had spoken up as this was the nature of the seat on the council itself. A unique position among the Theocracy; shuffled only when the current seat dies and stolen by the person who kills them. From that day Whitaker donned a new monicker, Barron Wick. He took his new title with the utmost seriousness and did so without staffing his own house out of spite for his father. Refusing to bring in his own horsemen he performed without fail.

The boy raised by “The Hanged Man” Lord epitaph himself as a tool; was now a serving member of the Arcane theocracy. Few outside the Epitaph Castle know of his history, and fewer still whisper murmurs of his personal projects outside the council. Such things like his continued growing power, a chink in his armor that may reside within “Ubiquitous”, and an orphanage he tends to with loving care.

#### Weakness

There is only one thing that can end Whitaker's life for good.  This would be Ubiquitous bow and arrow.  Apart they are nothing more then a mundane bow and arrow out side there near indestructible nature.  However if used  together the arrow if getting the kill shot on anything living will begun to appear  at every location where a version of the “target”  can be found across the multiverse striking them in the same place effectively killing every version across all realities.

Beyond this a more mental weakness is  his kin, his brothers and sisters he keeps safe at the orphanage he runs. It and the children within  are kept secret, only he knows where they are   but if anyone where to find out simply mentioning it could make him take pause or stop all together.