Smudge

A lieutenant of the Sacramento Fire Department, Fred Brostin was a dedicated officer, so much so that his home life suffered. His wife of 17 years, Judy, along with his three children (Morgan, Jack and Lily), rarely saw Brostin and when they did, he was far from the perfect husband and father. Stubborn and prone to temper tantrums, eventually enough was enough when Judy told him to leave. Brostin, having no where to go, moved into the station house on a temporary basis and despite initial sympathy, his co-workers soon grew weary of their leader's sudden mood swings.

On one particular call out, Fred Brostin arrived with his crew to a burning apartment block amid reports of hearing a screaming baby. Despite his failings, the one thing that Brostin could never be doubted was his courage but as he had been told many times before, there is a thin line between bravery and stupidity. A leader from the front, Brostin entered the building without any backup. Running up the stairwell towards the sound of the babe and he entered the apartment, filled with smoke and heat. Within, he was faced by a figure shrouded in grey smoke with a huge top hat, goggles over its eyes and the inevitable sound of ticking. It smiled at Brostin with a gout of steam and with hands that grasped like pistons, came towards him. The last thing he saw was a mirror image of himself holding a crying baby.

In Arcadia, Brostin was put to labour, hard, vicious, abusive, labour. His Keeper's realm was a place that took the concept of Industry and turned it into the abominable disease it could be with slaves toiling in foundries and factories, pumping toxins through the sky, the water and the earth. What was produced lay beyond Brostin's knowledge; all he knew was that he had to keep the fire's stoked in one factory using fuel that was unnatural and gave off the most heinous fumes. On some days, he could barely see but developed a keen nose for some of the aromas that burned. If he ever faltered, however, he would soon be 'encouraged' by his overseer, cruel creature not too far removed from Brostin; slaves to their work.

This was the success of The Reaver Magnificent's prison; He kept his slaves under the yoke of each other, not taking a direct hand in their punishment. One heavy-handed creature, a snarling Beast, would ensure the Ogre stoked the Elemental fire that allowed the Smith to bring forth weapons for the Soldiers to fight with. If one faltered, then another would be on hand to ensure it continued to work. If not, it would be replaced like a broken cog.

When Brostin escaped, it was when his overseer took its eye off the Ogre. Breaking free from his chains, Brostin fed the Beast set to guard him to the Elemental flame before bursting free of the factory and away from his Keeper. The Hedge around the realm itself was amass of toxic sludge and barbed wire fences, guard Hobs and hammers hitting anvils. Exhausted and bleeding, losing an eye en-route, Brostin stumbled over a fireman's helmet. Staring at it with his remaining eye, memories flooded back of his life before. Taking the helm, Brostin tore his way back from the Hedge and into Sacramento itself.

Unsure where to go or who to trust, Brostin began to look in on his family but was horrified when he uncovered something had been living his life for him, a mirror image of himself. More than that, it was considered a hero by the media for saving various lives in selfless fashion, and had become the family man that Brostin never was. As a final insult, he had been presumed dead following a huge explosion recently at a company named Horizon. Without any chance of payback, the Ogre fled the city.

Finding others like himself, Brostin began to come to grips with his new life, even changing his name to 'Smudge' to represent his dirty, vagrant appearance while developing an understanding with the Winter Court. It took a while but the fires of revenge within were cooled to an icy smoulder, and Smudge has returned to his home city in an effort to look over his family even if hiding from the True Fae keeps him away. He even managed to secure a crappy job working in a factory that bottles various chemicals, allowing Smudge to keep his nose close to the ground and and protecting the disenfranchised while preparing for when the Gentry finally come sniffing. Then, he will unleash his pent up Sorrow and bring his axe crashing down on their heads and the heads of their tools.

Coming and Going and Coming Again

So, it was in February when Smudge first tried to gain a home within the freehold but after it was disclosed the Winter Queen had gone missing, the Ogre done what he done best; slipped into the background and tried to find a way to ease the suffering. Certainly, this wasn't his best idea because all that done was bring the cops looking for an arsonist. However, it also brought the attention of the Squires of the Broken Bough who could see the hidden anger within Smudge was just a need for vengeance and took the Ogre under their wing. Three hard months of training and testing, Smudge finally found the home he was looking for, cutting his palms on the fire axe as he swore allegience to the Entitlement.

Description

Mask

Smudge's Mask is of a wiry looking male in his early 40's wearing a leather eyepatch over his right eye from some accident. His swarthy looking skin seems red raw like its been exposed to some chemical with layer of grime, dirt and sweat covering it. His hair seems dishevelled and greasy, and anyone would correctly believe the man to be homeless with a stench of chemicals emanating from his body.

Fae Mien

Unlike many Ogres, Smudge ain't big and bulky. His body is wiry and tough from years of hard, physical labour while his skin has a red hue to it. His hair is acutally a forever looming cloud of smog and when he speaks, this smog exhales from mouth and nostrils, nostrils that seem ever slightly too big for his nose. His clothes are tattered and those that get close enough can see the twin scars on Smudge's palms that look deep and angry.