El Sendero Del Diablo
A large, ugly, dark haired man with a foul odor and mean disposition.
A Face Only A Mother Could Love…
Bernard Mayweather was, and is, an ornery cuss. He’s a man of mixed heritages, a true product of the American melting pot. To call him a mutt would be accurate if dangerous. Bernard has shot more than one man for questioning him about his family. He was a man of average looks but his life on the trail weathered away whatever handsomeness he had. Add in a hatred of personal hygiene and the unpleasent picture of Bernard Mayweather completes itself.
Secretive as he was about his past Mayweather couldn’t hide an almost unnatural talent for tracking and trail blazing. Often times he would say he shot the man Indian who had taught him the ways of the wilderness, but most rightly assumed it was his own kin who was given him the knowledge. Either way the skills he obtained gained him steady employment for some years. He gained a reputation for not only being the best, but the most ruthless.
Eventually this reputation led him to a young buck named John Jacob Matherson...
Hungry Like The Wolf
Mayweather rode with Matherson for a few years, all the while the West was getting weirder and weirder. They had a few close calls in there time but, for the most part, everything was smooth sailing. They had the freedom of the Western frontier, lawless and cruel as it was.
However, one bitter winter, it all caught up to them. While travelling through the Rockies the posse had become stuck in a sudden blizzard out of north. The snow lasted for day, slowing their movement to a creep. Nothing could be heard over the howling wind, day and night. When Mayweather actually lost his bearings the posse had no chance but to stop. As the nights went by tensions in the camp rose.
In an act of bravery, or stupidity, Mayweather set out into the wilderness, promising to find the trail and return to the camp. Another day passed, the howling winds continued. It looked like all was lost when, slowly, the posse began to hear screams just under the sound of the wind. As the burst from the tents Mayweather came screaming into the camp, slashed and bleeding. As suddenly as he arrived a creature that was neither man nor wolf came leaping out of the snow. Chaos ensued as a dozen of the monsters came out of the snow, killing anyone they could get there hands on.
Only Matherson was able to make it out alive.