Standing at about 1.75m, favouring a long coat with a hood, and sporting dark sunnies, Randal looks like just about any other common chummer you’d meet on the street – in the late hours of the night. He rarely has a weapon visible, but does have a staff at home that has been known to accompanying him on the odd stroll or sojourn. Favours a pipe, although it’s only lit about 10% of the time he’s fondling it (this is not a euphemism).
After a try at academia and a stint in prison, Randal has decided that the life of a Shadowrunner is the one for him. Well, at least he’s going to give it a go.
More known for his keen intellect and arcane knowledge than his social skills, he doesn’t want to be on the payslip of some huge corporate monstrosity, despite their need for someone with his particular set of skills. He could make big bucks working for them, but he prefers his freedom (which got him into trouble at the university and ended up with him in prison)…and, of course, he’s not too good at being told what to do every minute of the day.
“You want me to kill ’em?”
“It’s pronounced Man-DAR-in, not MAN-da-rin!”