Miles Matheson

Miles Matheson currently was going by an alias. Not exactly living his best life but it was a far cry from the hellhole of a capitol he left back in Philadelphia. Here in The Grand, Chicago he turned the swanky hotel into his own personal distillery & bar in the post-apocalyptic no-electricity world. Sure he could have ran to the thriving steam-powered territory of Georgia but it was much too hot. And there was a bounty on the head of the ex-General of the Monroe Republic; but in which territory wasn't he a wanted man? Here far from the capitol, business was thriving. He was a king in his castle with a small band of people loyal to him (but they don't know his true identity.) Business savvy. Tactician. Often the lines blurring between protector & scorched earth. Often drowning himself in the bottle. Skilled swordsman, hand to hand combat, and firearms. Snarky. Flirtatious with females. Dark past in his time as a general, the apocalypse skewed his moral compass. (prone to dialog edit)