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Behind a wheezing mask a sickly man resides. A constant churning of noises marks a needed process orchestrated to keep his air filtered. A sealed suit of some inorganic and unlikely breathable material. Over that some padding with leather and metal, his clothes stinks of chemical agents. Over his back a short spear with a blade half as long as the shaft resides in some rudimentary holster. Under all that tight garb his stature is easy to read; tight and muscled, rotund muscle all about his upper body and arms. Despite the otherwise sickly demeanor he moved limber and unhindered by bulky adornments. His cumbersome head garb often twists in some insecure need to observe his surroundings.
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