Josiah Barnett

A working man, tan from the son. Josiah keeps neat enough considering his profession. His old clothes have been repeatedly mended, and the colours of them have faded from wash and wear. Josiah's short, dark hair and moustache that are starting to grey, unsurprising as his father also went grey young. He has a lean face, with a prominent chin and nose, and round dark eyes. A scar from a barfight he didn't even want to be a part of goes from just below his hairline, and goes through left eyebrow down to his cheek. It misses the eye but still damaged the nerve so his left eye doesn't fully open nor does the eyebrow raise.

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Formerly preacher, the only thing he was ever any good at. His father's mysterious death cut his father to the core, never has been able to scrape it back up and believe the way he used to. Failure as a preacher is just another thing in a long list of him quitting when the going got tough, and the only thing he thought he could prove himself in. Trying to shake his past of rightfully being seen as a quitter. never sticking seriously to anything he starts. A failure as a man in the eyes of those who have known him since he was young.

Sick of the wandering and the violence he kept finding himself a part of as a younger man, but now once again chained to it, Thoroughly trapped as a Stranger. Pushing self harder than he should in a desperation to prove himself. Knowledge that he will still serve his community till death is a bitter comfort. Struggling with being judge, jury, executioner. Fear of messing it up. Wish to be merciful but knowing pardoning the wrong man can lead to more death. Wants to be the good man he father thought he could be. Though that want now feels a bit tainted. But what else is new. That's just what the west does to you.

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