Name: Nathaniel Collins
Place of Birth: Dublin, Ireland
Weight: 153 lbs
Familial Relations: 1st of 8 brothers and sisters. (5 brothers and 3 sisters), Mother is full Comanche, father was an Irish settler arrived in 1845 in the beginning of the potato famine.
Occupation: Gunslinger and tracker for hire.
Known aliases: The Irish-shadow
Appearance: He stands 6'2", fairly tall for his father's side of the family, but fairly short for the males on his mother's side. Weighing approximately 210 lb. with a very solid yet lean build. His dark red hair was in complete contrast with his darker skin tones, dark flecks of freckles paterned his skin in several places, but they were unnoticible unless someone was right on him looking for them.
History: His father moved to the united states durrign the patato famine of 1845, leaving much earlier than his other countrymen thinking to get ahead of the rush. His lively hood was not deendant upon potatos, but when the money stopped flowing to his customers he had not choice but to relocate. He was a gunsmith with an unrivaled passion and vision for the craft. Guns being not as popular to those in Ireland, the occassional handgun and/or riffle from his personally crafted and tailored stock was more than enough to keep himself fed. When he came to the states he began freelance for the north as war was rumored to be making it's way to the people of the united states. William Collins was traveling in Comanche territory just before winter hit with its worst. Since this rapid change in weather was new to him it caught him completely by surprise, and nearly caught him his life. He was rescued by a young comanche woman and her aging mother. They nursed him back to health, her mother thinking him to be some sort of spirit in the disuise of one of the white devils who had come to take their lands. Still maintaining the old ways, she saw it as a good omen to help the young man. In the end Shadowtracker, the young comanche woman fell in love with William and he with her. Her father had died the winter before and they were without a male to help with the hunting and heavy lifting. With his select few riffles and handguns he had brought with him as well as his tols he proved to be a blessing in desguise, both for hunting as well as for warding off the white-men who still came to look for trouble, in which case two women would be their most favored targets. Before dying from pneumonia near the end of that same winter, her mother gave Shadowtracker her blessing and wishes for her to marry William. Shadowtracker learned english from living in their previous village, a white woman had come to stay with them for many months during te first attempts the white people had made toward their version of peace, and she was one of 5 children selected to learn the language of the white man. Shadowtracker followed her mother's dying wishes and devoted herself to William, they found some land near a main trail leading to one of the main trading cities in Michigan. Shadowtracker, now under the name of Bridget(chosen by William after the Celtic Goddess Brighid), became pregnantin the summer and gave birth to Nathaniel the following winter. William had a very lucritive business in selling arms to the locals, excelling more in the sale of hunting riffles, though his passion was in the six shooter. He was working on a revolver which would fire the equivallent of specialiazed .46 caliber bullets. His designs were sold to Remington in 1852 and with his help they ended in the developement of the Remington model 1858, which was the weapon of choice for many officers in the northern territory during the civil was. They elected to go with a smaller caliber (.44) though eventually upgraded to a .45 caliber revolver, and by 1868 they finally made their way to the .46 caliber version. In the mean time William finished his master piece, and the first and only W. Collins Model 1 .46 revolver came into being. Nathaniel was a master gunsmith and decent marksman byt he age of 12, he lived and breathed his father's work and cherished his masterpiece just as much as he did. The weapon was completely finished in 1859, perhaps he was given more inspiration when Remington bastardized his concept and forced himsef to work harder to produce the .46 caliber precussion revolver he knew would do justice to his legacy. Nathaniel was 16 when he elected to join the efforts of the north in the Civil War, even made it to the rank of Colonel by the end of the war in 1865. He returned home to find that his father died from a wasting sickness 2 summers previous and that he had 3 new brothers and a sister to add to his 2 brothers and 2 sisters he had before joining the army. With his father gone and his younger brother taking the mantle of man of the house in his absence, Nathaniel felt he had no place in this life. He was a hardened soldier who joined the army at a young age and was released back into the world without any other talents other than what was taught to him by his father (gunsmithing, marksmanship) the army (to kill often without remorse) but it was his mother's teachings that seemed to guide his life more at the present. The skills taught given to him by his father and the United States army were only tools to be used in a life devoted to a strict code of honor which was completely spiritual in nature. Though he didnt know all the history of his people he knew that comanche blood flowed through his vains. His mother taught him the use of Comanche horse riding tactics, the proper use of the weapons of her people, to track, to kill with honor...But this mingling of what he knew to be right and what he was forced to do in the name of his country...it was a conflict of personality that he needed to face on his own, demons which haunted his darkest nightmares...He left his home that spring and never returned.
Now roughly 11 years later he has found his way to Ute Creek Colorado, bringing with him a reputation as a half breed which no American settler, or even any other halfbreed indian/white man, could ever comprehend. His celtic blood as well as his Comanche heritage, left him as a mystery to any who he came in contact with. To some he was known as Pheonix, not for the city but for the mythical bird which his dark red hair and darker "red" skin seemed to bring to mind for those he came in contact with. He was known for hunting law breakers, mostly whitemen who either were deserters During the war and now criminals, or other scum of the earth. Always for a fee but always under the guise of being a man of the law, he was even given the fancy (but other wise meaningless) title of US Marshal so his bounty huntings were good and legal. To those who knew him best he was simply called The Irishmen, for his accent held a distinct celtic bearing, which came from being closer to his father than he was his mother. But anyone who distinguished him to his face with either title (pheonix/the irishmen) would never find themselves truly considering they were his friends. He accepted the titles along with the fear they brough to his marks, but in the end he just wanted the select few who really knew him, to know HIM...Ute Creek was his newest "home"...he knew only a handful of people, Abigale Winters, a top of the line hooker at the local brothel who he took a liking to (on a brotherly ish level of course, atleast thats all he would allow himself to admit to), the local assistant deputy (name to be revealed to me upon begining of game if accepted), and the town drunk, Roland, who reminded him of his father, if he had been born in the united states, a desheveled abrassive lush, and consistantly in need of a bat and shave. To a new comer (newer than nathaniel) Roland was just a push over lush who was always 3 sheets to the wind...but they 6 shooter on his side (a Remington 1858 none-the-less) was well maintained and the worn handle was a testament to the use it had afforded him over the years. He was roughly a decade or so older than Nathanial was now, being roughly the same age as his father the last time he saw him, and was still the fastest gunslinger Nathaniel had ever met (or in his opinion he would ever meet). Nathaniel had secretly hoped to find himself lost in the crowd as this once small cow town got lost in the boom of the gold rush and whatever else could attract the eyes and ears of the men pooring into the small area. He hoped to go unnoticed here, even grew out a neatly trimmed beard and goatee. He hoped to get a small job and remain unnoticed but his deputy friend, who actually knew him from the war, while respecting his decision to remain unseen and unheard, was always pushing for him to put down the Mashal tag and trade it in for a Sherrif's badge. He had no idea what the next few weeks would bring, but enjoyed the unpredictableness which came with the less than rare occassion he was able to remain a virtual unknown...He was enjoying the moments of silence, but that inner gunslinger still itched for a reason to draw iron...all be it a good one, he was still waiting. For something...