Name: Mat Calthorne
Concept: Rakish, smooth talking smuggler
Mat is a slim man, not to say he’s weak he’s not. Mat’s body is just very lean, the only meat on his bones being muscle. His hands are delicate looking and a bit on the small side. Mat’s blonde hair is worn slicked back over his head, or at least that’s how it starts the day, by the end various strands are usually hanging loose and unkempt. He has angular features and high cheekbones on his thin face. His eyebrows are what might be called beautiful as they are perfectly arched. His nose is slender, and straight with a slight bump on the ridge. His eyes are blue, like newly frozen ice, and almost a typical almond shape, though a bit rounder. His eyelids hang so that he always appears either as if he is a bit sleepy, or assuming a dangerous glare. His chest and torso are modest in size, but well toned and defined. His muscles may not be large but they are powerful, many a time an opponent had underestimated Mat and learned that the hard way. His skin was fair, but has since become slightly bronzed; now assuming a tawny colour. Next to his skin is a bit of leather cord from which hangs a golden piece. It must be very old or exotic, possibly both, for no one who sees it can place its country of origin and Mat refuses to reveal it. He wears a grey-blue shirt which is slightly open at the neck, the shirt is tucked into earth brown slacks; these in turn are tucked into brown leather boots, which reach mid calf. Mat also wears a burnt brown, cloth vest over his shirt. About his waist is a sturdy belt, worn over the slacks at a rakish angle.
Trait 5: Looking out for Numero Uno and Cash– Mat cares about little else than himself, unless you add money to the equation, for enough money you could probably make him do anything.
Trait 4: Quickdraw – He is very fast with his blaster and possesses deadly aim. Sometimes Mat makes shots that would seem beyond anyone's ability, some might call them flukes, Mat just grins and kisses the coin.
Trait 3: Reckless Flyer – Mat is a skilled flyer, but he’s also very reckless when he flies, performing moves that seem like they must be suicide. Leaving passengers wide eyed and their mind's reeling, thinking that if he had turned a fraction slower they would be goners, but he didn't.
Trait 1: Dang Conscience - Sometimes Mat just can't bring himself to carry out certain jobs that are especially heinous, especially if they involve children. His dang conscience gets in the way.
Extra Trait: (3)Smooth Talker - Mat's the kind of guy who can talk his way out of most situations. He usually knows just what to say to any given person, especially if they are of the female persuasion
Mat is a womanizer, he’s rarely alone on any given night, providing he's not on a job, and otherwise if he is alone it’s undoubtedly by choice. His tongue is honeyed and he frequently uses it to get himself out of trouble, not that he minds getting his hands dirty. On the whole one must remember that Mat is a man for hire, a rogue, and the deity he worships is the all mighty credit. He has no other master. He does what he does to get paid, no matter what the job. Mat is a quick thinker, well trained to think on his feet, which only aids his persuasive oral skills. Mat has a general disdain for the Upper Class, having found them to be rather untrustworthy in the past. Of course it may be more a feeling of jealousy than anything.
Mat never knew his parents, or can’t remember them if he ever did. His brother, Ben, raised him from a young age after his parents disappeared. It was his brother who taught him how to fly. Small things, like hovercrafts in the garbage dump where Ben worked. Mat loved it from the beginning, it was exhilarating. Mat began to pilot faster craft, though how he attained them wasn’t always legal. He started to sky race (like street racing, but you know, without the street) and slipped into the underworld. Spending his winnings on booze and gambling. He happened to be present at a certain card game where he won the speeder he pilots today. The fellow who had lost the ship was definitely not happy. Mat shoved the table at the man, as he reached for his blaster. Mat was faster, as the man crumpled to the floor Mat slid across the table, grabbing his new ship’s ignition chip in the process and was out the door.
"Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits."