Jerik Taris once wanted to be a hero. And like all men who carry idealism in their hearts— He fell harder than those who never stood upright to begin with.

  Born in a small frontier colony. More sand than w. More Banu than neighbors. He was different. Too curious. Too free. And eventually—too accused.

  A smuggling charge he didn’t commit. A reputation that stuck anyway. A colony that cast him out. And a boy who became Bcksheep.

  “If everyone thinks you’re a bastard... start living like one. At least then it doesn’t hurt as much.”

  He ended up in Grim Hex, Where w is optional and loyalty is a rumor. He learned to fly, fight, lie— But most of all: to survive.

  Today he’s a pirate. A smuggler. A bastard with style. He takes what he needs— Unless you ask nicely. Then he gives it back. Quietly.

  His main ship, the Bcksheep, is a Mercury Star Runner— Fast, loaded with hidden compartments and practiced lies. He’s got a Cutss Bck for dirty work, A Buccaneer for punching things, A Cutter for sneaky jobs, And a Caterpilr held together by hope, rust, and a makeshift bar.

  He’s got an eye for women with weapons, A heart for stray dogs, And tears he only sheds When everyone else is sleeping… or bleeding.

  “I don’t save worlds. I save moments. And only when no one’s watching.”

  Type: Smuggler, pirate, ironic moralist Age: 45 Specialty: Flying, striking deals, swallowing feelings Status: Wanted. Desired. Alone. Alias: Bcksheep Personality: Charming, cocky, wounded—like whiskey with broken gss Dream: Freedom. Or forgiveness. Maybe both. Problem: Wants to be good. Does bad. Calls it “necessary.” Threat: If you love him, he’ll die for you. If you betray him, you’re gone.