Once there was a great weapon-smith, in what would become the Kingdom of Pacifica, named Waylon. He was a non-combatant in the Accordance War but he forged chimeric arms of great strength and potency for the commoner cause. It was said a Waylon blade was sharp enough to cut a hair floating on a stream, lengthwise, without making so much as a ripple. The Sidhe returning from Arcadia soon feared his weapons as much as the fae wielding them and when peace was declared, his part in the rebellion was not forgotten.
Through a series of edicts and plots, always made to look coincidental, certain of the Lords of Pacifica stripped Waylon of everything he had. They passed edicts to tax smiths (secretly refunded to other metalworkers), purchased the land his shop was on and raised his rent to unpayable levels, and fed his incipient alcohol habit to take money from his pocket even as they emptied his pocket on taxes. In short, they ruined Waylon and sent him tumbling into alcoholic ruin. Now only Toad remains; a part of the landscape, and no one remember Waylon, or at least no one admits to it.
Life has done its worst to Toad over and over and over again. Once a respected craftsman, he found the pleasures of the bottle and things started to slide. First he lost his shop, then his employment, then his marriage, then his home, then... it just goes on. Eventually he found himself on Sir Blade's doorstep, at the end of his rope. The Unseelie knight let him stay there as sort of an early warning system and he's managed to cadge a fair number of drinks out of the arrangement. He's also managed to get his hands on a cold iron knife from one of the many shipments carried right past his nose. When no one was looking, he just reached in and took it and now he feels much tougher than he has in years. He's surly when drunk and sometime combative as well. He'd spill everything he knows if someone would just show him a little kindness. When someone spurns him, though, he's ready to show just how tough he really is. Toad also maintains independent contact with Ragger. They have a working relationship: information for booze, and it works for both parties. Toad actually has a soft spot in his heart for the boggan childling.
A gruff and weathered little man, Toad is swathed in layer upon layer of dirty clothing. His eyes are bright, his beard is grizzled white, and his hands are tough and gnarled. Other than that, there isn't much of Toad to see. His apparent age is somewhere on the far side of sixty but with the hard living he's done, who can tell? In all honesty it's difficult to tell if there is even any difference between his mortal seeming and fae mien. You never get to see much of either.
What Toad Knows Edit
Toad is basically furniture to Blade and his band. They talk freely in front of him so he has managed to pick up a few things.
- There was a large shipment of wine that was unloaded at Blade's facility right before Beltaine that was promptly reloaded (and Toad never got a drop) along with a sealed box in Blade's car and he never saw the wine again. He doesn't know what was in the sealed box.
- Someone's been bringing iron weapons into town. He's seen them but doesn't know where they are headed.
- What really got JZ in trouble with Blade was gambling. He took out loans from people in Blade's employ, promptly went back to the bookies and lost it again. Blade coerced him into dipping into the winery's till to pay off part of the debt and now the Unseelie eshu's hold on the satyr is unbreakable.
- Normally on Beltaine, Blade hosts his own little party at his place... a party that's wild to the point of being grotesque. Not this past year, though, and there were a heck of a lot of disappointed Oakland kithain this past year.