World of Redemption

Seamus stands with a guarded confidence, his posture solid and his arms often crossed not in hunched defense, but as a firm barrier to the world. His lean, wiry frame, honed by his foreman duties, is draped in a stained, high-collared shirt and a heavy leather apron bearing the gruesome map of his butcher's work. His face is a pinched canvas of perpetual caution, dominated by a large nose and shadowed, deep-set eyes that miss nothing. A short, unkempt beard adds to his air of self-neglect. The few sparse strands of greasy hair on his pallid scalp complete the picture of a man too consumed by suspicion for vanity. His hands are perpetually covered by black leather gloves, a final barrier between himself and his clientele.

Seamus operates on a foundation of profound and unshakeable distrust, a trait he has honed into a sharp tool for survival. He is not ruled by fear, but by a methodical caution that dictates every transaction. He'll gladly 'do interesting,' but his trust is a commodity he never trades. This philosophy has kept his enterprise thriving for years. His interactions are purely pragmatic; he offers a professional, almost deferential courtesy to reputable clients, while being curtly dismissive of unknown or unreliable individuals. He views every stranger not with terror, but with a cold, calculating suspicion, assessing them as a potential risk to an operation built on discretion. His worldview is cynical and insular, believing that dependability, not loyalty, is the only thing of value in his line of work. This makes him detached and difficult to know, but remarkably effective at what he does.

Born to a respectable family of butchers, Seamus was a disappointment, his hands too clever and morals too flexible for the family trade. He saw the waste in an honest day's work when quicker money could be made from the desperation of others. Using his position as the foreman at Emerald Ranch as the perfect cover, he began his criminal enterprise. He started small, but his knack for appraisal and his amoral discretion quickly made him the preferred contact for local outlaws, particularly those looking to offload stolen wagons. This path, however, came at a cost; his family disowned him. Now, he operates from the secluded ranch barn, working alongside his cousin Alden. The barn, smelling of sawdust and blood, is his kingdom and his cage. The constant flow of hot merchandise provides a steady income, but it also brings dangerous men to his door, trapping him in a lucrative but terrifying existence he is too cowardly to escape.