Boar-back

Leader of the ruthless bandit tribe known as the Hounds
(pls scroll down for a better look at his picture lol)

Late fifties, it's hard to tell except for the faint silver streaks in his hair

Male

Boss/Chief (used by his tribe), Wilder Breneman (his real name that almost no one knows anymore), Hatchet (his old bandit name when he was in a smaller gang years ago), Loki (used by one of the other bandit leaders he's loosely allied with, based on the story of Loki getting poison dripped on his face by a snake for all eternity. Inspired by Boar-back's scars.)

human

Rough beard and moustache. Like his hair, there are patches that are too scarred to grow properly anymore.

Short, coarse, swept back. There's a patch missing on the right side of his head from an old injury.

sandy blond with faint silver streaks starting to show

6'0''

roughly 170 lbs.

Understated brown. One eye is paler than the other due to scarring.

none

The thing that most people notice first is his face. It's horribly, horribly scarred. (I couldn't represent this very well in his portrait because I'm not practiced at drawing scars lol.) It looks a bit like burn marks and a bit like someone punched him with a blender. The scars go into his hair, down his neck and onto his chest a little as well. One of his eyes has a cloudy scar on it, but it still partially functional. He's missing a large chunk of his right ear and most of the skin on the bridge of his nose.
Aside from that, he has many smaller scars all over his body. His back and shoulders are covered in a pattern of long, thin scars, as if at some point he was flogged repeatedly.
Almost nobody knows the origins of his scars, and few dare ask. He actually encourages the mystery, using it as a way to intimidate his tribe and his enemies. He doesn't feel shame or regret over his ruined face--in fact he usually enjoys the stares of others and considers the scars to be a solid, comfortable part of his identity at this point. He never makes any effort to hide them.

Compact muscle, broad shoulders, not much extra meat on his bones but he's decently well-fed.

Fair, very suntanned

(I admit I ended up putting dislikes here rather than actual prejudices)
He really won't share his personal opinions with just anyone. He doesn't seem to have many personal opinions, actually. One thing that's quite clear, though, is that he deeply scorns the leader of the neighboring tribe, Jackal Death-Hide (aka Gage of Red Creek), and of all his rivals he's most interested in besting that one. He considers that Jackal is too inexperienced and foolish to hold power for very long, and intends to do whatever he can to help the younger bandit down the path to ruin.
Oh, and one other thing: he's very careful around any kind of liquid--be it water, alcohol, salvaged fuel, or anything else--and makes sure he knows exactly what it is before he handles it. Once burned, twice shy, and all that.

Rezz x MALAA(?) - Criminals

Imagine Dragons - Warriors

Glass Animals - Black Mambo or Flip

Honestly he's pretty healthy. Probably some part of his brain is a bit twisted to allow him to murder and pillage on a regular basis with no remorse, but it really doesn't show.
Physically, obviously one of his eyes is a bit impaired, and possibly his hearing as well, but not enough to slow him down.

-yeesh
-powerful chill TM
-either expressionless or smiling dangerously 24/7
-deep, very rough voice (scarring again)
-unflappable
-has a way with words
-smarter and takes better care of himself than most
-if he doesn't like/care about you, everything he says will sound like a subtle threat
-dad friend tbh
-level 20 ghost-story-teller
-doesn't idly chat unless he really likes the other person
-if you're around him a while, you might just glimpse a softer, protective side of him
-but then he leads a raid against an innocent village and you remember it's only a small side
-likes dogs
-doesn't get angry anymore
-if asked whether he feels love for anyone, he'll just laugh
-if asked what gender he's attracted to, he'll laugh again and say "that's not important" in an unnervingly casual tone
-rumors fly about him
-and he lets them flutter
-calls his bandits "the kids" sometimes
-likes it when ppl have the guts to sass him, as long as they know their place at the end of the day
-somehow makes "horrifically marred" look beautiful
-it's probably bcause he charismatic af
-is a confusing mix of "all talk" and "deadly serious"
-has an irregular sleep schedule so nobody can predict what he'll be up to
-keeps his tribe on their toes
-acts like he doesn't care but would kill for them
-it's the main reason he's been in charge for so long
-and why people so rarely leave
-.....that and his tribe feeds deserters to their dogs
-aaannnd he really likes to eat salads ok the end

He wants to hold his position as tribe leader as long as possible and wants to make his tribe stronger than all the others. At the very least, he wants to lead them well enough that they have a chance of staying in one piece after he dies.

Uh, he's a murderer and a ruthless criminal warlord. Let's just say he's always willing to follow through on his threats.
((The reason I'm struggling to flesh out this section so much, I think, is because he has so many years of experience at the time of the story that I have a hard time thinking of any facet of his personality that he hasn't improved upon in some way. He's obviously not perfect, hence the murder and stuff, but I can't for the life of me think of a compelling, logical explanation why he does bad things. TvT))
Update: Check private notes for flaw suggestions ft. Cinnamonroll <3

Fighting, leadership, gaining loyalty through whatever means necessary, spinning scary stories, giving threats, creative problem-solving, strategy, resource management, surviving against all odds, squashing rebellion with ease, dangling his sparing affection in front of his followers like a delicious bone, keeping secrets, maintaining a reputation, staying calm under pressure, hunting, reading/writing (listen most of his tribe is illiterate so it's worth mentioning), doing math, listening and learning, managing to stay patient but never compromising his time for someone else unless he has to.

Self-care (I know right? What a crazy thought. Glares at nearby bandits), sharpening his axe, napping whenever he darn well pleases, trying to make the best salad possible out of local edible plants, taking easy strolls around camp/around his turf to make sure everything's running smoothly, collecting jewelry, trying to teach his bandits basic common sense and life skills (and then subsequently giving up in disgust).

Boar-back: raises axe
Everyone nearby: flinches in terror
Boar-back: You know what sounds fun right now? Chopping firewood. Let's all chop firewood together.

A box in his cabin containing: some very valuable items he can use to trade with in an emergency, a few books he found interesting enough to keep after reading them, and a letter from someone related to his past that's tucked way at the bottom where no one will find it.

A giant woodcutter's axe that he takes very good care of

As aforementioned, wild salad. Especially with some nuts and seeds added, mmm. He switched to being mostly vegetarian after a doctor friend once spelled out to him how easy it was to get diseases or parasites from meat after the apocalypse.

Olive green

Bandit tribe leader

Politics is dead, but he's ready to dominate the field if it resurrects itself. I feel like he's probably the most liberal bandit leader around, in that he's very open to change and progress and he does his best to accommodate for all his bandits no matter their needs, differences, or personal opinions.

He has a wary alliance with the tribe on his northern border, the Lakes, for two reasons: One, the Lakes know they're the weaker tribe so they proposed a truce as a way to avoid getting killed, which Boar-back agreed to because their turf is pretty undesirable anyway. And two, the Lakes also share a border with the Devil-Birds, and they spy on that tribe for Boar-back in exchange for spare supplies during the winter months. Also he has an "agreement" with a trading caravan that passes through sometimes--they give him plenty of free goods and he won't make them pay in severed limbs.

Atheist. He rarely discusses religion, and he's not the type to scorn others for their faith, but personally he doesn't believe in a god or afterlife of any kind.

English

dogs

He taught himself to read and write at a young age and likes to stay in practice. Keeps a dictionary and a handbook on basic math in his tent. Has a decent grasp of recent history and local geography, and is a fast and willing learner.

He was a child of the war--born during the fighting deep in Illinois and orphaned soon after. His name back then was Wilder.
The people that adopted and raised him were not nice at all--neglectful at best and abusive at worst, they forced him and several other adopted kids to do most of the work around their shabby little farm. Wilder was one of the older ones, and as a result was protective of his adoptive siblings and did his best to divert the rage of the adults to himself whenever possible. He took the blame for mistakes and arguments, and received frequent punishment for his assumed misbehavior. The scars on his back are from the lashings his "father" used to give him. His more emotionally harmful "mother" gave the kids very little food or care--just enough to keep them alive.
During this time, Wilder decided that as a man, he would never bow to anyone else. He had always dreamed of running away, and finally he got his chance. He took the others with him and they started a very small, ragtag gang on the edges of what would someday become the bandit territories. They recruited other young members, offering safety to the many orphans of the area. Wilder was a well-loved leader, and they were really more like a family than a gang.
But that kind of life is hard on the young. Over the span of a few short years, they were attacked by other gangs, illness, and terrible luck. Before he knew it, all of the original children had died, except for Wilder himself and Taya, the eldest girl and his best friend. By this time, they were both almost twenty.
Also around this time, Wilder gained his first bandit name, Hatchet, for the woodcutter's axe he used as a weapon. He was still the leader, and the other bandits were tolerant of him, but some of the members were ambitious and discontented, always causing trouble. He still managed to control the group, however--over the years, he'd learned to fight, gained strength and experience, and carefully observed other gangs to see how their leaders stayed in power. He learned a lot about people, and that knowledge came in handy many times during his later life.
Then, one of the other bandits suddenly took over the group in a violent mutiny. He'd never liked Wilder and always been especially rebellious. Now that he was in charge, things were quickly going south. Wilder hadn't been expecting a significant challenge to his authority, nor had he noticed the disloyalty slowly growing within the group until it was too late. He was outnumbered by his own troops, and got kicked out.
Taya went with him. By now, she and him were very close. Taya was tired of violence and hardship, and she'd never wanted to be a bandit. She secretly saw this as a chance to start fresh in a peaceful village somewhere, and she tried to persuade Wilder to come with her.
But Wilder was angry, and too stubborn to admit defeat. He went back, planning to kill the usurper and return to power. But he was too confident, and let his anger control him. He was caught by the group, and none of them proved loyal to him. At that point, the leader decided to teach him a lesson once and for all.
Several weeks ago, they'd been scavenging in an abandoned factory town and found an old bottle full of a mysterious liquid. When they poured a bit onto the grass, it hissed and smoked and turned the grass black. The leader had decided to keep it, and now he knew exactly what to do with it. While the others pinned Wilder down, the leader stood over him and drizzled the liquid directly onto Wilder's face.
The acid burned Wilder so badly that he thought he was going to lose his mind from the pain. The others let him go before the liquid burned down to the bone, but by then he'd already been half-blinded and accidentally choked on some as well. The leader, confident that he'd properly demonstrated his strength, left Wilder for dead on the side of the road.
(At first Taya stayed close by, in a little village, waiting half-heartedly for news from Wilder. In that time, she learned that she was pregnant, which changed her entire outlook. She started to gradually let go of Wilder in her heart, believing that he'd stayed with the bandits and perhaps was no longer the boy she'd loved in her youth. Over the next few months, she began to move on and consider her future with fresh eyes.)
But Wilder had not joined the bandits, and he did not die that night. A wandering ex-army doctor found him a day later and took pity on him, nursing him slowly back to health. His face never looked the same, but he learned many lessons from what had happened: Be patient and control your emotions. Never challenge authority without others on your side. And perhaps most importantly, don't undervalue those with medical knowledge. In the end, he found new purpose and pride in the injury that was supposed to shame or kill him. As soon as he was well, he set off to find Taya.
(Taya was just about to leave town in search of something better when she crossed paths with Wilder again. At first she didn't recognize him, but he instantly knew her and approached her. When she realized what the bandits had done to him, she was horrified. She didn't know whether to blame him, the bandits, or herself--and paired with the secret knowledge of their child, she didn't enjoy their reunion as much as she'd imagined. Wilder tried to convince her to head north with him, but she feared (and rightly so) that Wilder still intended to become a criminal. She wanted no part of it. Their meeting ended in an argument, and they parted ways. It was the last time they'd ever see each other.)
During the next few years, Wilder became part of what historians now call the beginning of the Banditry Era. He chose to join a tribe that seemed to have the most potential (the Hounds) and quickly started rising through the ranks. Sometimes he did this through brute force and intimidation, but mostly he employed his intelligence and knack for strategy to help the tribe grow and gain the respect of the ringleaders. He gave himself a new name: Boar-back, after the scars on his back from his time on the farm so long ago. He kept quiet about his past, but carefully built up his reputation among the other bandits and soon had quite the loyal following.
When the time was right, he overturned the old leaders and became the single chief of the tribe. Immediately he led a campaign against the smaller tribes nearby and swallowed them all into his own group with ease. This solidified his authority and the respect of his tribe, and soon he was one of the most powerful bandit leaders in the entire Eastern Region. He rules with a cool hand and years of experience. There's no sign that he'll be dethroned any time soon.
And if he ever thinks of his childhood friends, or regrets parting ways with Taya, he certainly doesn't show it.

He doesn't really know anymore, but he vaguely recalls his foster parents telling him that he was born some time in the fall.

Technically, the entire pack of dogs living on his turf belongs to him, but he has a couple favorites, including:
-Ragsy, a very aggressive shaggy mutt with three legs
-She-Hulk, a female blue pit bull mix
-Thing (the current alpha), a mastiff mix that is feared even by the bandits--except for Boar-back himself of course.

He dresses in slightly nicer and cleaner clothes due to his rank, and likes to wear gold jewelry (necklaces, rings, earrings, etc.)