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Character Name: Forest Mason, but everyone in town knows him as Jack Tompkins

Age: 38
Sex: Male
Species: Human
Appearance: The army shapes a man into a fighter, or rather, into a killer. That truth remains apparent on Forest's body. However, they don't tell you that getting old is a pain in the butt. Forest stands near five foot, nine inches and is broad shouldered. He has dirty blonde hair, which appears more light brown at times, with subtle shades of grey highlights, only a few strands here and there. He almost always has a five o'clock shadow as he only shaves when it annoys him. His green eyes consistently have dark circles from his nights of work or just nights he chooses to avoid the nightmares. Under his shirt and leather vest one would find muscles honed and still in fine shape, with only slight age on them. Scars from bullets and blades dot his chest, shoulders, and back.

Personality: Forest was never much one for being overly excited about much of anything, but that did not mean he was not a man without joy. Before his time in the army, Forest was a friendly man who always had a hello for a passing stranger. Even during his first few years in the army he maintained a measure of that personality. Now he keeps to himself when he can and finds little need to speak much unless it has to do with selling something in his store or helping someone fix something. Old Mason still holds on to his ideas of honor and respect, even if he just sees them as ideas now. When it comes to fights or disputes Jack never raises a hand and will take a beating from opponents before he looks to defend himself.

Brief Background: There have been many men to say it over the years, and many who have felt it without ever hearing it. War is hell. Even in the smallest battle there is never much glory to be had. All of that comes when the dust has settled and the blood has dried up. Forest Mason saw just about everything a man can see fighting in the army. He has killed both good men and bad, killed armed men and those who he was merely told were armed, but the real problem was this: Forest was good at war.

In his third year in the army, putting him at twenty three, Forest had developed reaction times and accuracy to make any man think twice about fighting him. He soon carried all of the items he needed to become the best killing tool the army could make him: his trusted long barreled peacemakers at his hip, a small barrel revolver under each arm, and his bowie knife and tomahawk behind his back. With these tools Forest cut a path of blood deep enough to create a lake and, for a time, he believed he was doing it all for noble and honorable reasons. That was until the real wars stopped and the hunt for reasons to fight and kill came around, such as pushing the natives off land so settlers could move in and hunting down horse thieves and cattle rustlers to give them lead bellies no matter their reasoning.

After more years of this Forest began to become numb to the ideas he had once thought to fight for. He was told someone needed to die and so they died. That was what he was there to do and nothing else. If the army needed to capture someone they didn't bring Forest with them. It wasn't until old Mason was with his unit on a routine patrol that his future would be changed.

A group of settlers had put down roots on land they had not purchased and so they were considered criminals. In total it was a group of three families comprising of men, women, and children all just trying to get away from everyone else. When the settlers did not agree to move the commander in charge had the buildings burned with the settlers still inside to send a message to anyone who would illegally settle anywhere. It was, as they say, the straw that broke the mules back.

Forest did not say a word as he pulled out his guns and set to using them on his fellow soldiers. They all fell quickly, except the commander; Forest put a bullet in his leg and one in his gut, then simply walked away. That day Forest Mason died as well and Jack Tompkins was born. Jack roamed the west for years just looking to survive and stay away from the people he had once called allies. After years of simply moving from town to town the newly christened Jack Tompkins found the settlement of Silver Pines and discovered that the law did not come around...at all. The small town had its own law and its own rules that somehow kept the larger governing bodies out of the way. Some spoke of darker forces going on behind the scenes, but Jack cared little about tales of monsters because he was one as well.

With that the wanderer known as Jack Tompkins moved in and soon enough set up a small shop selling working tools and a few odds and ends for construction. He also became a quick handy man others called on to fix a porch or fence post when they could not do it themselves. Those old 'tools' that belonged to Forest are still locked away in the attic collecting dust, and as far as their owner is concerned they can stay there.