|
xxxxxThe seventh son of a seventh son (Catholic families, right?) Jay was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The Arkhams were an old money Boston tribe, made up of business executives, financial mavens and dilletantes. He was well on his way to establishing his own niche as the lead political advisor to a senatorial candidate when his own penchant for overindulgence was turned against him by a rival. A quarter sheet of acid and two embarrassing public speeches later, he vanished amidst a resultant scandal that destroyed several careers.
xxxxxUnknown to most was that Jay not only took the usual trip, but found himself at the foot of a tower made from thorns and promises, on the cusp of Awakening to the supernal realm of Arcadia. Refusing to sign on the dotted line, calling the whole thing a mug's game, he turned his nose up to Truth and dove headfirst back into the Lie. The experience marked his soul, however, along with planting the seeds to a burgeoning interest in the world of occult secrets. Leaving Boston, he migrated north to Aleswich, Maine, following a trail of mystery.
xxxxxSeven years later Jay wasn't so much a native as a transplant onto the dirty limbs of the small city. Poking his fingers into any Fortean event that sprung up, meeting with Fallen magicians to learn their methodologies, his adaptation of ceremonial magic seemed to suit a lifestyle decidedly different from the upper crust high society that did its best to forget about him. Ever a day away from dying on the street due to a variety of entertainingly messy ends, he still manages to hook up those seeking services better left alone.
|
