Building a Better Yesterday
Owner/Proprietor of The Drunken Stag
Owl Shaman (+2 dice for Sorcery or Conjuring at night, +2 to all TN during daytime)
Donbo, born Donny McAllistair, is a refugee from Tir n’An Og. His parents fled the racially volatile nation for the UCAS when Donny’s metahuman genes awakened and he morphed from a stout freckled lad into a fomori, one of the troll variants sometimes found in Celtic bloodlines. Like many fomori, Donny had the capacity for magic, and his parents were on the lookout for it at an early age. When his abilities began to manifest, however, the only person willing to instruct him was another shaman who ran with the local neighborhood gang. Out of necessity, unwilling to allow his awakening magical abilities run wild, Donny’s parents essentially asked him to join with the local hoodlums, and so Donbo was born, a street shaman in the Renton gang that called themselves The Blood Gutter Boys. The Blood Gutters were essentially a neighborhood splinter of the Blood Mountain Boys, arguably the biggest go-gang in Renton. Made up of local kids too poor to afford bikes or not savage enough for the highway hijinks their “big brothers” pursued. They did, however, deck themselves out in the same fashion, complete with tribal styles, warpaint, tattoos, and ritual scarring. Donbo’s already intimidating troll visage was augmented by several piercings, a handful of scars, and massive Celtic warpaint tattoos on his arms, chest, and even face.
After years of running with the Blood Gutters, Donbo was the oldest left in the group, but was never a leader. His heart was never in it, and his mentor and teacher had graduated into the Blood Mountain Boys several years earlier. Donbo bought his way out with a fat payment to the gang treasury and a savage beating. Being mostly good Irish lads, however, the Gutters bore no ill will towards Donbo after he left them. On the contrary, they brought a lot of money to his father’s pub once he started working there, as they would come in often to carouse and even behaved themselves when they visited the Drunken Stag.
When Donny’s father passed, the pub went to Donbo, and he has been polishing the glasses there ever since. Though he has been out of the gang life for years now, he’s still as tough as they come, as the few rowdies brave (or stupid) enough not to retreat before his fearsome appearance soon learn. He usually keeps some kind of club on his person, and always has a knife somewhere in easy reach. Not that he often needs either one; he’s much more likely to whip up a hearth or city spirit to clear out offenders. More than a few bodies have been shuttled out the back door of the Drunken Stag, never to be seen again, but most of those were people that went there looking for trouble and found it.