Thumb screws with which he sometimes fiddles if he’s idle. Also a small length of sharp wire, a few cogs and a pin. It’s amazing what traps he can whip up impromptu.
Carmo is never clean-shaven, but never has a full beard. It’s as though the germinating hairs on his chin die from lack of light in the darkness of his shop. In amongst the black fuzziness, his teeth glint like fangs of a snare. There are rumours he’s had them taken out and replaced with metal ones, but no-one has ever tried to find out if it’s true. One of his eyes is covered with a film of scarred skin. There’s an unpleasant story behind it, an accident when he was still inexperienced in the art of trap-making. Of course, nothing like that would happen now: he’s far too skilled.
No-one knows much about when Carmo was young. It’s even debateable whether Carmo remembers it or whether he’s repressed it. A childhood in the ghettos of Erezi is something best forgotten. It was the Orzi Verci who first discovered his talent. One of their assassins (who shall remain nameless) was found in an alleyway, bisected. After a long search they located the reason for his demise, a strand of cheesewire with a tripwire-trigger had lashed across him severing his torso in two. They immediately offered a reward for whoever had set up the trap. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to outrun assassins all his life, Carmo handed himself in. They offered him a job. Now he works in his little dark workshop, devising hideous ways for people to die.
Carmo can be used by those who know the underground well. He will make traps to order for protecting rooms, buildings or for assassination purposes. He is a complete sadist and contrives the most unpleasant mechanisms of death and torture.
Carmo keeps a shop in the backstreets of Erezi. It’s not often visited, Carmo makes people feel…uneasy. Even the veterans of the Erezi underworld are uncomfortable being alone with Carmo. But they need to buy their traps from somewhere…