Trevor Macwell

Average height and weight, unassuming demeanor and a casual gait.



In Plain Sight +4
Renaissance Man +2
Mechanical Empathy(Electronics/Computers +4)
Fightin’ (bagua zhang) +4

Hero Worship (Lyrette/Julie)

Thieves tools

Trevor Macwell was born on Regina approximately 26 years ago. The twelfth and last son of twenty children, two of Trevor’s brothers had died in the mines before he was even conceived. The Macwells fit the term dirtfarmer as closely as any family can. Uncles, cousins, nephews, brothers, sons and fathers all worked in the mine, along with hundreds of others. All miners learn very early that their lives depend on each other, but family is forever. Macwell family tradition and honor makes them all want to work an honest day for honest pay. This was the only life Trevor knew, until one day when he was about 12.

One of Trevor’s cousins had died in a mining accident, not at all uncommon on it’s own. This cousin’s home, however was not rented out to someone new as usual, it was sold outright to a Companion. Just two doors down from Trevor’s home, and a familiar place when his cousin lived there, the little cottage was reborn. A fresh coat of paint, all new furniture and appliances, and most importantly the most fancy resident anyone in their small town had ever met. Being inquisitive as so many young boys are, it didn’t take Trevor two days to find out the Companion’s name, Lyrette Coffey. While the Coffey’s were a smaller family, they were well known and well liked, the thought that one of them could have become a Companion was, in more ways than one, a breath of fresh air for the young Trevor’s mind.

Within the last year or two, Trevor had discovered his aptitude for machines and computers, always able to find the source of a malfunction more quickly than expected. Some of the miners, his father in particular, were beginning to think Trevor was born to be a mining engineer. A mine does not need many engineers, but it does need good ones, and a natural is a rare gift which can result in fewer deaths over the course of many years. What had appeared to be a gray and dismal future, digging in the mines, suddenly had a thin ray of light.

Trevor spent every moment he was permitted helping Lyrette with anything he could find. It began with being part of the crew that repainted the house. Not quite old enough for mining, Trevor was perfect for lighter work on the surface. Even after the painting and moving in was done, Trevor continued to find ways to make himself useful. Early in the pregnancy it was limited to things Lyrette could not or did not want to do herself. Eventually, however, her condition precluded more and more tasks, which Trevor was happy to volunteer for. All for the low low price of tales of a better life, of the grandness of the core worlds and wonder of space travel.

Possessed of a new fervor for life, given hope and focus by Lyrette’s success, Trevor sought out options for his own life, anything other than mining. Within the year or two Lyrette stayed on Regina, Trevor was able to feed his new thirst for knowledge enough that even the owner didn’t want to waste him in the mines. Spared the mines for fear of sickening a future so bright, Trevor had enough time to apply for and receive scholastic grants for an engineering university off world. Just one more program the Core folk like to point at to make themselves feel good about helping the outer worlds. A sycophantic truth Trevor would not discover until late in his education.

One truth Trevor could never forget is that money matters. No grants could measure up to the disposable resources his classmates had available. Forever hanging onto a group, trip or party by their coattails, Trevor only barely managed to scrape out a niche for himself at the university by virtue of his natural talent. Scraping by was never going to be enough for Trevor, if it were, he would have stayed on Regina, scraping a living out of the rock. By the middle of his first year, Trevor knew something had to change. That change would be forced upon him as his scholarship did not renew after the first year, forcing him to drop out. They never did tell him why they pulled his funding, but Trevor would eventually suspect it was Clyde’s doing.

With the dawn of a new year, and nowhere to go, Trevor found a curious fortune. A graduate student by the name of Clyde offered him a room for what little was left of Trevor’s money, saying he was “Sure everything would work itself out”. Clyde seemed like every other rich core kid, and in most ways he was, none of which are important. What stood out about Clyde was the fact that he was never satisfied with living life entirely within the rules. Clyde always had an angle, he ran a poker game every night, just to keep himself entertained, constantly pushed the boundaries of every rule, and very nearly ran the whole university’s black market. No matter what you needed, or wanted, or had a few extra of, Clyde always had the answer, for a price.

Trevor’s invitation turned out to be a black market tradition, senior thieves pick up new pupils with promise for their last year or two, teaching them everything they need to know. Some selected students, others selected locals who might stick around longer than a traditional student. Trevor, in some ways was both. Familiar with student life, but no longer part of it, no credentials to start a life, and not life to go home to. As fortune would have it, by loosing the scholarship, Trevor had found a drug more vital to life than Pasceline-D.

Trevor spent most of his time learning the craft of burglary. Anything from picking locks to dodging laser sensors, free climbing to hacking computer security systems. If it’s something that keeps people out of places, in them, or detects them, there’s a fair chance Trevor knows how to disable or otherwise circumnavigate it. Particularly with the tendency for high tech security devices, Trevor’s natural talent with technology made life easier for him.

Another thing Trevor found both fulfilling and useful was training in martial arts, specifically the bagua zhang style of kung fu. The focus on acrobatics, mobility, and grace proved consistently invaluable in evading detection on his various capers. The skill with throwing knives imbued into this style also made for some handy gambling options down at the pub. Never one to participate in tournaments, Trevor always prefers to keep his cards close to his chest. Fame and victory do not work well with stealth and anonymity.

Having developed quite the skill set for finding and acquiring things, then getting them to the people who want them, Trevor figured he should look into the business of burglary. Security systems, entry routes and the fencing of goods were all familiar friends, having spent the last few years tinkering with such things. The first few jobs went well. Trevor set reasonable goals for targets, and managed to get a good price out of his moderate loot, but of course stealing trinkets does not pay the rent, as it were. If he were going to get any real work done, Trevor knew he would need a crew of specialists, to help cover the angles he couldn’t.

Trevor Macwell

Serenity RPG ozmond77