Keep your orphaned assassins, prophetic dragoons, and world cracking magi.
Lounging around in the Cantina, Kolburn kept a watchful, yet unassuming eye on those around him as he finished the last morsels of what passed for a meal in this joint. Brushing off the crumbs, he glanced round, careful not to make eye contact with any of the other patrons who might later remember him as he made his way unobserved to the entrance and out into the cold of the port. He would come back and pay off his mounting tab, when he next came across a few credits, or found another odd job. After all, he wasn’t completely without his honour, unlike some people.
A pirate prince’s son with a secret he still hasn’t figured out…
His day in the power center of the realm is long over. He now helps the down trodden and forgotten peasants the ruling class seem to overlook.
Poison can only ever be the tool of a murderer - as such, alchemists are tightly regulated by the Crown, and anyone found in posession of an unknown substance is forced to taste it themselves.