A lost man in a lost world.
Iron Horse is a large, powerfully built man. Before he was remade, he was a half-elf of the Ghost Dancer Tribe: tall, lithe, and swift. His metal limbs have made him slow and clumsy, and stolen his natural grace. Once, his step was light and whispering, silent even over dry leaves. Now his footfalls are heavy, metallic, and plodding.
Iron Horse’s artificial heart produces an enormous amount of heat. Steam rises from his skin in the rain, and in the darkness, the ruddy glow of the alchemical forge in his chest is dimly visible through his flesh.
Both his arms and legs have been replaced with dark, eldrich metal, and the scared ruin of his torso is occasionally broken with metal pistons and vents where once there was muscle and sinew. Most of his skeletal structure has been bonded with mystical alloys to support the weight of his new body.
Iron Horse is marked all over by the scars of his ordeal, giving him a ravaged mien. If he was ever a handsome man, he is no longer.
Iron Horse does not speak of the time before his Reforging, but some things are self-evident. He was once a mighty warrior, a champion of the Coyote Clan of the Ghost Dancer Tribe.
The nature of the calamity that left him maimed and broken is as much a mystery as why the Herald of Progress choose to rebuild his ruined body, replacing limbs with steel, lungs with bellows, and his once beating heart with a searing furnace.
Whatever the reason, Iron Horse’s life may have been saved, but his place in the tribe was irrevocably lost. The Ghost Dancers saw in their former champion a metaphor for all that was wrong with the world, the blight of unnatural progress sculpted from the flesh of one of their own.
The Great Spirit turned its gaze away. Iron Horse was shunned, and exiled from his ancestral lands.
He returned to the city, now his prison and purgatory, and slid into despair. The Herald of Progress was not without pity. He arranged for Iron Horse to be lodged in the Lucky 13, hoping, perhaps, that time would mend his broken spirit, just as strange alloys and alchemies had mended his broken body.
For his part, Iron Horse spends his days in a numbing stupor, treating both the chronic physical pain of his prostheses and his emotional isolation with a cocktail of whiskey and narcotics. That the Ghost Dancers are the primary source of opiates makes this drug-induced haze as close as he can get to the people that cast him out.