Cris Topher

WIP

## History

Not much is known about the *"Endless Roaming"* bounty hunter of the Mistborn. He vaguely just popped into stories out of the blue six years ago taking on bounties with nothing to him. No name, clearly malnourished especially for his kind, he had some torn clothes, a mask, and a dull knife. He started small hunting small wild game that had annoyed human settlements. Nothing fancy, but enough to put food on a plate. He never really interacted with the humans just helped them by setting traps to catch the varmint's that drove them willy nilly. Making what he could off their corpses.

Once he was nourished to a healthier standard he moved on making enough he crawled to bigger wild game that had blocked or hindered projects for a Mistfolk community built around a once proud zoo plagued by uniquely barely remembered mutated animals. Even amongst his own kind he didn't share much about himself. Giving them no name to remember one of the elders who knew he wouldn't stay long gave him a title for them to document him by... the "Endless Roaming". Before he left he earned a well held together scuffed Nagant M1895 revolver for taking down a mutated panther. Skinning it into a coat, and making a very ominous knife out of its bones showing anything he killed was treated the same. Respecting the animal by using all of it that he could, and selling the rest to travel again.

Ending up in a Goliath community he was shown a unique kindness never met before. This would be the only time he stayed in place for a year helping them out with animal problems, guarding convoys between the stretch of settlements, and the odd thing was he never charged them a dime yet there was never a day he didn't have a roof or starved. When he turned 20 the peace he found would need to be turned in. Taking his first real blood bounty on a gang of human marauders that had been harassing's quite a few communities amongst the Goliaths who had had enough after one event saw terrible crimes inflicted on a half Goliath who kept trying to broker peace. Still trying to attempt some form of peace though they attempted to bargain for a cease for peace trying to avoid a scuffle that could trigger even more problems upon the settlements.

The Mauraders asked for the impossible demanding free reign to do what they want in there territories, and protection fee that was more like extortion to make sure the other marauder groups didn't hit "their" turf. With a fifteen man group of well skilled Marauder's such a feat to just scare them out was undue able as this particular group was very use to hunting, and quartering Goliaths, and even Dhampirs so successful they were able to scare the other marauder groups without lifting a finger. So the Endless Roaming instead exchanged one impossible scenario for another. Only coined the "Slaughter of Marauders" what happen still bizarre's most story tellers, and those who had laid witness to the scene to this day.

In the middle of the night while partying to their hearts content something had caused them to go mad, some spirit potential driving them insane as some were found with bullets wounds from their own fellow members guns. Others were killed in way akin to an animal attack with even a few wild animal corpses found near the scene. Some burnt alive by a alcohol fire. Even stranger was how the leader who was clearly the first to die from a venomous snake bite's gun had clearly been fired multiple times unto himself by his own hand. His lieutenant blinded by sand had ran off a cliff tied to another man who fell to his death with him. No one ever tells the same story of this event each having their own theories, but one thing was shared that site in the eyes of all was cursed. Only one thing in common was what they accounted it to in ever variant story a sole open box of a supply stash taken from a small bunker site that the Marauders had painstakingly broken into was open with a fresh hazmat suit missing its gas mask with a freshly burnt skeleton of one of the victims inside it. That camp and that box are still there believed to be a curse unleashed upon man.

The truth though is known to the Goliaths, but they fuel the lie to keep the marauders away. The day after this had all gone down their Mistborn had vanished with everything he owned accept his original gas mask with a note inside that read. "Paid in full by knowing what makes a home."

Once again on the move for the next 3 years the Endless Roaming would run into a Automaton that they would surprisingly become a bounty hunter duo with earning a name as the "Nameless Duo" as the Automaton had no recollection of its name either holding onto its only possession a Artic Warfare bolt action sniper rifle. The duo never really spoke to one another but the Mistborn seemed willing to let it tag along. Yet like all others in this world small comforts are temporary. On one hunt that was suppose to be a clean sweep of a freaker nest turned into the worst drawned out seven days of the mistborns life. What was suppose to be a freaker hunt amongst swampy ruins turned into a true fight for survival against a lone Nosferatu who had already most of the Freakers in the nest. For those seven days their was no escape from the exchange of gun fire, blade, and teeth amongst all three parties. The freakers died out upon the fifth day with the six seeing both Mistborn, and Automaton extremely exhausted, and wounded. Knowing their chances were next to none the Automaton brought the Nosferatu out into the open letting itself be ripped apart before the mistborn shot its engine'd heart causing a mass explosion that took the entity out. No bounty was ever claimed, and to those that saw the scene after claimed that all involved definitely had perished in the explosion. However not to far away their is a marked grave with a broken Automaton plate nearly split in half with the name "Christopher" inscribed on the inside of its casing.

A year later a small time, but very reliable Mist Born bounty hunter appeared in the commonwealth slowly starting to make a name for themselves noted for their black coat, bone knife, a scuffed Nagant pistol, a imposing gas mask, and a well taken care of Artic Warfare sniper rifle simply monikered by the name Cris Topher. No one the wiser knows what happened to the Endless Roaming told of amongst a few story tellers, and settlements that may or may not have made him up. Though if someone was to pierce those stories together, and route that path taken they could potential one day talk to quite the storied Miasma dweller.