The Keg

The Keg

For the Keg, violence is a game, and has long been the core of who he is: seven feet of muscle and fat that hide nothing and make the whole quarter tremble. He has almost never lost. Yet he is neither the fastest nor the cleverest in the Circle. He takes it, that's all, sober or blind drunk, and waits for the other man to grow tired of hitting him. They say there is only one thing in the world he can't take.

Describe him

His footsteps shake the floorboards before he even walks in. If he invites you to his table, you already know he's going to crush your hand in greeting. His voice fills the room, and when he laughs, everyone laughs with him: better to find his jokes funny than to catch a right hook. Only one moment makes him lower his head. When Babe speaks to him, the giant shrinks, and you suddenly grasp how much he must have taken.

Play him

He's a brute, so play him like one: hugs that dislocate a shoulder, pinched cheeks, slaps on the back. He's the one who tormented you in your youth, just because he grew faster than you did. He can't feel his own strength, so he hurts people without meaning to. His vocabulary is short: a well-turned retort is enough to throw him off balance, and it's the players' best weapon against him. But keep, underneath, that he always has the last word: a fist to the stomach, to wrap things up.

What he says (rarely)

"You, I like you. Sit down."
"Hit me again. No, harder. There, see? Nothing."
(silenced by a clever quip, just before raising his fist) "…Yeah. That's a good one."