Monteith Skeffington

Wearing always a long patched up coat, a grey scarf around his neck, a trilby hat and way too many bandages around the lower half of his face, Monteith Skeffington is one good piece of scum. With a large experience in smuggling, theft and assassination, he is not afraid to get his hands dirty.
Not a good fighter, he prefers to sneak his way around and have one too many tricks up his sleeve, with a sturdy dagger in his right hand (and many others in his coat) and an old pistol in his left hand, he can manage most average opponents, but cowardice is something that he is not afraid to practice if he feels like his life is being threatened by a more powerful enemy.
Sly, smart, with a dark sense of humor and with an intriguing past, Monteith is just the kind of person you'd wish you had enough gold to hire a few minutes ago when you saw him disappearing in that dark alley.

His profession? Thief, bounty hunter, bodyguard, detective, mercenary and assassin. Just throw in the right amount of gold.

Born into a noble family, Monteith received a strict instruction from young age. By the age of ten, he was already a prodigy, and his parents were sure that as an adult, he would have climbed the high ranks of society and ascended to a much better place than they did, and with the use of their status, and fortune, attempt to become a council member, the highest status a person in the Kingdom Of Briomore could have, reserved only to six individuals, that control and command the city.

These hopes and dreams shattered the day when, after coming back home, Monteith found all the servants, dogs and his own parents slaughtered in his own mansion, just a few weeks after his seventeenth birthday.
Before he could have muttered a single scream of terror, royal guards barged into his house, and arrested him under accusation of treason against the other council members and murder of his own parents.
Before he even had the chance to mourn the death of the ones who raised him, he was already rotting away in a cell in the sewers, shackled to the cold walls without a single piece of cloth to cover him, with only the rats keeping him any company by occasionally taking bites out of his flesh once in a while.

Years passed before he would manage to obtain the key to his shackles from a guard that was tempting his luck too much with him.
He was barely able to stand, and walking implied great effort, but a scar was left both in his soul, and his body, one that could never be healed.
From the countless tortures, abuses and spiteful conditions of his cell, a wound from his lower part of his face got infected, a nasty rash followed, and with it, almost as a spreading tumor, his skin started falling. An infection he would later on manage to mend and heal, but that would leave a permanent scare, leaving him horribly disfigured on the lower part of his face and the neck.

With only the guard's lightest clothes, his body unable to bear the weight of any type of armor, and a dull broken blade found deeper into the sewers, he sneaked his way out of his prison, becoming officially a wanted criminal.
Now plotting his vengeance, Monteith promised to himself that many would pay for what he had to endure.