Isaiah's Page
Stretching from the countrysides of New England out across the entirety of North America, a sprawl of remote campsites and wilderness refuges mark the coming and goings of the Grahams.
The Grahams are a large clan of unruly nomads that've never fully integrated with the rest of America. What they've done instead is pluck bits and pieces (including property and sometimes people) from the countrysides they travel through.
Now their culture is wholly their own, though it has a whole lot in common with many shadier gang lands or trailer parks.
No one knows exactly how many generations his family has criss-crossed the US, but their history (mostly spoken) claims a lineage as far back as the 18th century.
Isaiah calls himself a 7th generation Graham, which puts him at around his mid-50s, though he looks at most early 40s. He's guaranteed to never give a straight answer on his age, which falls in line with the behavior of just about his entire tribe.
Again like his tribe, Isaiah has a clashing, anachronistic wardrobe. Bright multicolored 70s affectations meet conservative 50s hand-me-downs, with the occasional modern touch. The same anachronisms spread through the entire Graham community.
Isaiah is, in comparison with the rest of the Grahams, a level-headed but cocksure fellow. Ask any Graham and they'll comment in a slovenly, rough English dialect that he's a "badass fella; don't brook no shit." Isaiah got that glowing status over years through a series of brawls inside and outside his tribe, defending the folks and ideas he loves most.
One telling legend about Isaiah is about how he saved a young Graham girl from a crooked sheriff by challenging him to a bare-knuckle boxing match.
The legend goes that Isaiah was all alone in the middle of a barn where the sheriff had him surrounded by some local lads of ill-repute. Isaiah leveled the challenge and said a few things about the sheriff's unfortunate prick, and got a good brawl started.
The brawl didn't really look like it was going so well at first. Isaiah took a whole load of hard hits and got bloodier and bloodier. The sheriff was a mean bastard and his boys were no better.
Just about the time Isaiah looked like he was done for, though, the sheriff messed up hard - he came up to gloat, and before he knew it Isaiah rose up, threw a single right hook, and clobbered the sheriff so hard he didn't wake for weeks.
When the sheriff came to he'd woke up to the sorry news that he'd be wearing the mark of Isaiah's fist for life - his skull had caved where the hook had landed, and left him blind in the left eye. To this day the bastard can't clear a metal detector on account of all the steel bolts in his head.
He'd also discovered that shortly after Isaiah's thunderous hook, the Graham clan had flooded the barn and procured the girl. Then they split town before anyone could reach their campsite - leaving nothing but a smoldering ruin.
Isaiah is, to say the least, pretty much a legend in his tribe these days, but that hides a bigger secret: he's the hand of the Graham elders, an Obrimos enforcer, and they're a hand of the Mysterium itself.
For centuries they've roamed the world, not just the Americas, seeking out, gathering, and cataloging away some of the most dangerous Mysteries - with a specialty of things which Sleepers have unknowingly tapped into and been endangered by.
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