Jain MacCruimein

Jain is a Scottish highlander from the settlement of Borreraig on the Isle of Skye. It is rumored that his path to Dornie was bathed in the blood of his enemies but those who speak about it do so in whispers. Though Jain has a fairly ready smile on his face, although it is often a prelude to slamming his fist into someone else's teeth or eye. He gets into a lot of scrapes and seems to have more luck than most when it comes to winning.

Since his arrival he's served under Duncan Rowntree in Dornie's militia but has been known to take jobs on the side for special favors from the town's residents. He is duplicitous in all aspects save one, if Duncan gives an order, he follows it.


Full Name: Jain MacCruimein
(pronounced Ian MacCrimmon)
Age: 32
Hair: Light Brown/Dirty Blond
Eyes: Green

Status: Alive
Occupation: Mercenary
Origin: Borreraig, Isle of Skye
Allegiance: Clan Rowntree

First Seen: A Better Place
Last Seen: None

Light brown hair falls loosely around the face to graze the shoulders of this man, its golden highlights echoed in the weathered tan of his skin. Given the climate of Dornie, it tells just how much time he spends out of doors. Almond-shaped green eyes seem all the brighter, and crows feet give him an amiable look, as if he smiles often — though it is just as likely they have grown from simply squinting into the sun’s glare or water or snow. A prominent nose, strong jaw, and a slight cleft in his chin balance out his oval face, which is usually covered by a few days growth.

Standing at a rather imposing stature of 6'2", he is lean but visibly muscular. When not in the uniform of the town’s militia, his clothing is utilitarian and comfortable. He tends to favor earth tones and darker shades for trousers and outerwear though contrasts this with stark white shirts. Whether on duty or off, his feet are covered in his uniform boot which are scuffed and scratched from too much wear.


  • Padruig MacCruimein - father
  • Sarah MacCruimein † - step-mother

Portrayed by: Scott Speedman


There was nothing monumental about the birth of Jain MacCruimein. Strange, but not so out of the ordinary that anyone at the time thought anything of it. He was born on the night of the winter solstice, thirty two years ago, to a mundane man and his wife. A merchant seaman by trade, Padruig expected that his son would follow in his footsteps. He was a strong boy with good lungs, telltale by the cries that were let out after the initial smack. Jain’s mother died at birth due to complications much too difficult for the midwife to handle. This was something that was of no consequence to his father, she had done her duty and bore him a son and heir; which is all anyone can expect from a woman, given their intelligence and strength is much less than that of a man.

His nursemaid, Sarah, was pretty, Padruig insisted on it. No son of his would suckle from the teat of an ugly broodmare. When he was a toddler and finished with her, the nursemaid was made into Jain’s new mother; a fine trophy for his father and someone to take care of the boy while Padruig was away. By making the woman his wife, he forced more of an investment in the child’s well being. Not that Sarah was unwilling but at seventeen she felt much too young to be laced to such a man and soon after their nuptials began a series of illicit affairs. These were the people supposed to mold the boy into manhood… someone else had different ideas.

She appeared to Jain very early, there isn’t a time he can think back to that Traa-dy-Liooar wasn’t there. First she was a whisper in his mind, telling him how much she loved him and would take care of him. Then she came to him in the form of a shrew and he loved her. She was his and he was hers. Their physical bodies never entered into their partnership, such thoughts and actions too lewd for a boy that she loved so. No one noticed, not Padruig who was busy earning his family’s wealth and certainly not Sarah who was too busy earning her reputation with the local boys.

Jain was twelve when she first came into his room. Drunk and smelling too much of stale perfume, Traa-dy-Liooar recoiled and hid in the pillow, crying silently as she listened to Sarah steal her innocent boy and turn him into a man. He felt her pain but could do nothing to ease it. He was sandwiched between the woman on top of him and the one soul beneath him who expressed the anguish he couldn’t. Something in both of them broke that night and when Sarah was gone Jain held Traa-dy-Liooar close to his chest so she could feel his warmth and his heartbeat and know, that at least in spirit, he was hers alone. When his skin cooled and dried and his breathing grew deep and even, the little shrew made a vow that she would never again feel such a thing.

Together, as in all things, the boy and his shrew changed. He aged into a handsome young man that both Padruig and Sarah both boasted about, for different reasons. Traa-dy-Liooar and Jain grew distant; she would leave for days at a time and when she did come back she refused to be near him, especially after he and Sarah had rutted and the stench was still all over him. Though she knew differently, Jain pretended he didn’t care and tried to hurt her feelings just as she did to him. He told her of a plan that he made with Sarah, to kill his father and steal his wealth and land. Sarah would become his wife and she would give him the love that Traa-dy-Liooar wouldn’t. He told her that he didn’t need her and he wished her out of his life. For the first time in his entire life, Jain was bitten by his soulmate. The cry of pain woke Sarah who rushed into his room only to find Jain bent over the frail body of the vermin that he’d thrown against the wall. Its little body was crushed and her stepson wept over it like a child. Angered by the display of weakness, Sarah grabbed up a rod and beat him. She swung him until his back was covered in slashes and blood, chastising him for being so pathetic as to spill tears over a dead rodent. Men, especially the men of Borreraig, do not weep.

Crazed with the loss of his familiar, Jain rose up and took his love (mother) by the neck, choking her until her face turned blue and the last spark of life fled her body. His breath escaped his chest in a gust when he dropped the dead woman, appalled at the crime he had committed. His guilt, though, was not in the crime of murder against Sarah but the death of his familiar by his own hand. Stricken with unfathomable grief, he took a knife and stabbed it into his own heart, falling to the floor. His was face so near that of the shrew their noses touched and with his dying breath told her that he was sorry, for everything that he had done.

Death does not come to the wicked who wish it, nor to the righteous who do not deserve it. In a blink, Traa-dy-Liooar was back in his palm, curled into the same ball of fear as when Jain crushed her in his grip and threw her across the room. The blood stains on her teeth and the beads forming on his finger were still new. The pain was still very real and for a moment, Jain and Traa-dy-Liooar stared into each other’s eyes. Without words, he begged for her forgiveness and she gave it, conditionally. By morning the house was burned to the ground and the broken body of Sarah was discovered charred inside of it. Padruig, who was off on another long voyage overseas, would not find out about his home and wife for months and no living person could give him news of his son who was not found among the ashes.

It was a difficult life; the time spent wandering the moors and abandoned roads. Under Traa-dy-Liooar’s guidance, Jain prospered as a brigand and a thief. Within months he grew bolder and found that the experience the night of his death was not a solitary one. Jain lived for minutes, hours, and days in the time it took to blink an eye. By the time he turned twenty, now quite skilled in the arts of murder, rape, and pillaging, he began to feel very old and without purpose. His shrew grew with him, when it suited her; from something very tiny and concealable to a ferocious boar large enough to gore a full grown man in seconds. He used her in this manner, too often, but she never minded. Nor did she mind the times he took his frustrations out on the innocent girls, women, and sometimes even men that they came across in their travels. He didn’t love them, he loved her, and she didn’t care about the infidelity as long as he didn’t care for them.

He was twenty three when he came upon the settlement neighboring that of Dornie. Beginning along the outskirts of the town, Jain preyed upon the weak, taking whatever or whomever he wished and burning the rest. Weeks went by before a travelling caravan happened upon the destruction set upon the place. Everything was in ruins and no one, not even a dog, was left alive. From Dornie, the militia was sent out to investigate the possible threat to their own safety. What they came upon was something quite out of the ordinary, a man who fought like ten, evading every fatal strike against him, even bullets. A fortnight and the lives of three men were spent on the capture of Jain MacCruimein and when Duncan Rowntree first laid eyes upon him, the prisoner gave him nothing more than a nod of respect.

No one could argue that the man kneeling before the militia leader wouldn’t be a valuable asset. Aside from the mercenaries lost in the skirmish, their prisoner had never threatened Dornie in any manner. Finally, it was Duncan’s most trusted soldier that made the suggestion to adopt him into their forces rather than do away with him. Being a man of strategy, Duncan agreed and allowed Jain to serve under him for the time being but the first step from the line, his death sentence would be carried out. With his loyalty under question from the start, Jain struggled to fit in with the rest of the men by joining in whatever activities they had planned, on and off duty. Nightly visits to The Dovetail were commonplace and Jain wasn’t readily dismissed by the women there due to his rugged good looks and muscular physique. It wasn’t until an attack on a village, where a woman was given the choice between her children, that it was finally acknowledged that Jain had paid his debt of three men. The life of one baby girl in exchange for a home he could call his own; after a blink, the decision wasn’t a hard one.

The woman and her remaining child were brought back with the rest of the spoils. Jain kept another captive for himself for a while, until Traa-dy-Liooar tired of her presence in his life. Knowing the possibility of his own demise should he refuse his familiar’s request to rid himself of the slave woman, he carried out the deed in secret. One day she was there, the next she was gone, and Jain was back to his former routine of visiting The Dovetail. His presence became so commonplace that rumors began about him doing the odd favor for slighted prostitutes in exchange for bigger favors from them. All that was known for sure is that he stopped paying for his visits and sometimes he would even be called to the brothel. Soon other villagers began calling for his aid and if the payment suited Jain, he would help them. Often his payment took the form of goods he could easily trade or sell. Most often sexual favors were granted. Traa-dy-Liooar was pleased with their lives there. She would watch over him as he used the people of Dornie, taking the pleasures she couldn’t give him. When he was spent, they would fall back into their own bed where she slept in his arms.


Growing up in Borreraigh, Jain was taught that it is vital for a man to be strong, not to display weakness, and most importantly never to turn the other cheek when wronged. True to his tutelage, he has grown into a man who laughs at nearly everything. This doesn’t mean that he is cheerful; behind the smile is a dark man who revels in the pain of others. He is emotionally crippled, unable or unwilling to express his own feelings, and therefore takes pleasure in hurting others only to see them cry out in pain.

It is easy to blame his magical ability on his lack of conscience and guilt for every wrong he has committed and in the quiet of his bedroom, to the ears of his familiar, this is what he does. He truly believes that he makes the best possible decision in every situation he is presented with and that any other action is a foolish choice. He has no qualms about killing another person as he forms no real emotional attachment to anyone. Those he does start feeling something for are either quickly disposed of or left behind. He is loyal and friendly enough to those he deems allies, the names he includes on this list would be surprising to most because they don’t necessarily need to have the same regard toward him.

Jain does not love the way a normal person does. He is something of a hedonist and enjoys pleasures of the flesh a little too much. He doesn’t care if his partner at the time finds his company enjoyable simply because they mean so little to him. He doesn’t make love as much as he possesses and dominates; he is unable to be gratified unless he feels like he holds the power. Perhaps it is because he is unable to express the physical side of his love to the one being he truly wishes to.


Jain is a mage though he tends to keep the fact a secret. To the layman it simply looks as though he is extremely skilled and/or the luckiest person alive.

His power is a form of personal clairvoyance. He is able to see into his own future, be it minutes, hours, or a few days, and know what happens to him. This allows him to make different decisions and change the course of his own future and therefore mold a better destiny for himself. His visions are so vivid that while in them, he is unable to tell that it isn’t real. It’s only after he comes out of the spell that he can piece back what happened.

At first his visions were sporadic and chaotic as to when they would happen. They would leave him confused and for a few years he felt much too old for his own body due to the time spent living in times that weren’t real. Now that he has better control over it and can pick and choose the times that he looks ahead, he has a better grip on himself. He usually spends a few seconds in the morning looking ahead to what will happen to him that day, sometimes he will see more in the course of the day if there are important events that are happening, such as a raid. He tries his best not to use his sight while fighting as it is distracting and even a split second of not paying attention can allow someone else to defeat him.

This doesn’t mean that the chaotic visions still don’t happen. There are some times where it kicks in automatically, like a danger sense, allowing him to make a quick reaction to what he sees. These visions occur when Jain is in mortal peril, quite literally, and will only last for a few seconds to a few minutes ahead, allowing him to change his direction or dodge a fatal blow. This doesn’t mean that he can’t be beaten in a fight, just extremely hard to kill. There are times that to save his own life, he will surrender, such as the case when the Dornie militia captured him.

Traa-dy-Liooar as a shrew

Jain has a unique relationship with his familiar, they are in love. In every aspect but physical, they consider themselves husband and wife. Soulmates. She is protective and covetous of him as he is secretive and obsessive over her. It’s not a healthy relationship by any means, it’s extremely destructive. Under Traa-dy-Liooar’s influence, Jain has committed many heinous acts, including but not limited to rape and murder. He will do almost anything she asks him to do and she will ask him to do anything that will keep him tied to her.

Traa-dy-Liooar usually takes the form of a shrew in order to be close to Jain at all times. She is easily concealed in this form and can be with him practically anywhere. If they are alone in the wilderness she will turn into something larger, like a boar, to help him hunt or kill someone. She almost never takes the form of a bird because she feels too far away from him if she is in the air and he is on the ground.

When Traa-dy-Liooar is not with Jain, he is restless, nervous, and unable to concentrate on even the simplest task. Even when he visits one of the girls at The Dovetail, he will bring her with him so she can hide in the pillows and he can be close to her, it doesn't seem to matter that he’s with someone else.

For more, see: Character Notes for Jain MacCruimein
For logs, see: Logs for Jain MacCruimein