Contact: Prince Evan “Blackwing” Parris

Prince Evan “Blackwing” Parris

A Tir Prince and former ‘runner’.
Connection: 8
Specialties: Tir politics, Shadowrun community, 6th world history, Tír na nÓg

Prior to his elevation in rank, Prince Evan “Blackwing” Parris spent decades as a covert operative of his beloved nation. He dallied in the Seattle shadows briefly during a temporary exile, and older  shadowrunners may still suppress a shudder at the mention of his infamous street name.

The years have been kind and his hardware has been upgraded time and again to be less obvious, less invasive, and to keep him riding the cutting edge. In recent months he has climbed to the summit of Tír society and gained himself a seat on the Council, but his nature has not changed. He maintains a network of criminals and spies, and ruthlessly uses the knowledge and profits they bring him. He is unlikely to bring the full weight of his power to bear in service of another—within the Tír, his influence is almost peerless. For a business acquaintance, however, he’s much more likely to use only his off -the-books influence.

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Blackwing began his career as a Wetworker and Runner in the shadows of Seattle around 2040.

Parris was a long-time follower of former Prince Aithne Oakforest, and he somehow managed to hold onto most of his wealth and clout after Oakforest’s resignation. He was a Count until very recently, when he managed to catapult past the Ducal class of social rank in the wake of the Pritchett controversy. Prince Garrett Pritchett stepped down by default, having fled the country to escape Ghosts earlier this year when it surfaced that he’d fed all manner of state secrets to the elves of Tír na nÓg. Count Parris, former Black Dagger and international Tír man of mystery and mayhem, played an instrumental role in bringing Pritchett’s discrepancies to light, and he used the witch hunt to catapult himself into the vacant Council seat.

I remember horror stories from my parents about an elven street samurai
named “Blackwing.” That’s Prince Parris. He tore through the Seattle streets
maybe twenty years ago, ripping the shadows up while he was running errands for the Council. He was old school. Leather coat, katana, mirror shades; he was like something out of a sim-flick, but he got the job done, no matter what. Rumor is he went toe-to-claw with dragons more than once. I doubt that edge
and instinct have gone away just because he’s in a suit and tie all of the sudden. Slamm-0!

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