Boone Williams
Boone Williams has a solid build, tall for a Baywalker at roughly five feet nine inches, and wears a western-style hat slung low over his face against the sun. Tattoos spiral across both arms and his chest, depicting scenes from a life lived violently: teardrop tattoos next to his eye and brutal imagery stamped into tanned skin. Those who meet him for the first time often find him surprisingly calm, even pleasant, provided they do not look too closely at the ink.
He is one of the most feared bounty hunters in the Northern Clime, a mercenary who tracks down individuals who flee into the swamps to escape their debts, their crimes, or their enemies. His motto is straightforward: anyone is fair game for the right price. People whisper he would kill his own mother for a sufficient bounty. Whether that is true or merely useful reputation is a distinction Boone has never bothered to clarify. He works from a boat, armed with a gun, and knows the swamps of the Northern Clime with the intimacy of a man who has spent years navigating their channels.
Those he fails to catch tend to stumble into Cypress Wood, where the Cursed finish what Boone started. Those he succeeds in catching simply vanish. When he is not working a contract, he hunts gators near Roan's Oak, a pastime that seems almost peaceful by comparison. There is a wry humor about him that surfaces between jobs, the kind of dark wit that belongs to someone who has long since made peace with what he does for a living.
He is one of the most feared bounty hunters in the Northern Clime, a mercenary who tracks down individuals who flee into the swamps to escape their debts, their crimes, or their enemies. His motto is straightforward: anyone is fair game for the right price. People whisper he would kill his own mother for a sufficient bounty. Whether that is true or merely useful reputation is a distinction Boone has never bothered to clarify. He works from a boat, armed with a gun, and knows the swamps of the Northern Clime with the intimacy of a man who has spent years navigating their channels.
Those he fails to catch tend to stumble into Cypress Wood, where the Cursed finish what Boone started. Those he succeeds in catching simply vanish. When he is not working a contract, he hunts gators near Roan's Oak, a pastime that seems almost peaceful by comparison. There is a wry humor about him that surfaces between jobs, the kind of dark wit that belongs to someone who has long since made peace with what he does for a living.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Little is known about how Boone Williams became the man he is. He emerged into the Northern Clime's awareness already formed: a Baywalker with a gun, a boat, and a willingness to track anyone through the swamps for the right price. His past is written on his skin rather than in any record. The teardrop tattoos and the violent scenes inked across his body tell a story he has never bothered to narrate aloud.
What is known is his present. He operates out of the Roan's Oak area, taking bounty contracts from anyone willing to pay. His reputation has grown through years of successful hunts, each one reinforcing the simple truth that fleeing into the swamps of the Northern Clime is not an escape if Boone Williams is the one following. The swamp is his territory, and he navigates it with an ease that suggests he has been doing so since long before he took up bounty work.
Between contracts, he hunts gators, a quieter violence that keeps his skills sharp and his boat provisioned. The Northern Clime knows him as a fact of life: a calm man with terrible tattoos who will find you if someone pays him to, and who considers that arrangement perfectly fair.
What is known is his present. He operates out of the Roan's Oak area, taking bounty contracts from anyone willing to pay. His reputation has grown through years of successful hunts, each one reinforcing the simple truth that fleeing into the swamps of the Northern Clime is not an escape if Boone Williams is the one following. The swamp is his territory, and he navigates it with an ease that suggests he has been doing so since long before he took up bounty work.
Between contracts, he hunts gators, a quieter violence that keeps his skills sharp and his boat provisioned. The Northern Clime knows him as a fact of life: a calm man with terrible tattoos who will find you if someone pays him to, and who considers that arrangement perfectly fair.
Baywalker bounty hunter working the Northern Clime's swamps.
Children
