Campaign:Equinoctial/Sheriff: Difference between revisions

From 2d4chan
Jump to navigation Jump to search
No edit summary
No edit summary
Line 17: Line 17:
Merits
Merits
Combat Marksmanship 2
Combat Marksmanship 2
Quick Draw (Firearms) 1
Dual Kith (Engaoler) 3
Dual Kith (Engaoler) 3
Brawling Dodge 1
Krav Maga 2
Krav Maga 2
Resources 2
Resources 2

Revision as of 23:42, 22 March 2010

Name: Woman With No Name ( Eusebia Franscisca Kino ) 
Concept: The Lone Desperada / Woman With No Name
Court: Summer
Seeming: Elemental
Kith: Newtonian / Engaoler

Attributes
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 4, Stamina 2
Social: Presence 2, Manipulation 1, Composure 3
Mental: Intelligence 1, Wits 4, Resolve 2

Skills
Physical:  Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Drive, Firearms 4 (Revolvers), Larceny 0, Stealth 1, Survival 1, Weaponry 0
Social: Animal Ken 1, Empathy, Expression, Intimidation 1, Persuasion 1, Socialize, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge
Mental: Academics 1 (The Law), Computer 1, Crafts, Investigation 3, Medicine, Occult 1, Politics, Science 1 (Physics)

Merits
Combat Marksmanship 2
Quick Draw (Firearms) 1
Dual Kith (Engaoler) 3
Krav Maga 2
Resources 2
Mantle (Summer) 1

Wyrd 1

Children grow up in terrible places, sometimes. But even terrible places have stories. Stories of how justice, and courage, can triumph over injustice. Sometimes this nobility is so bright it can even be seen against sunlight. Sometimes it hides by day, shining as a pale guide by night like the moon, illuminating the darkness.

One little girl grew up in a place where the only thing that could tell a true story was the barrel of a gun. And most of the time, the story told was a tragedy. But she grew up dreaming of stories where people could fight for justice. Maybe she started to fall in with the wrong crowd, because of the stories that told her to fight. Or maybe she just was targeted. She isn't sure herself. Many of her memories fell away when she woke up in a world of black hats and white hats, where a good person could shoot the bad people at high noon in the tumbleweed-littered street and save the day.

She liked this story. It was a story where people were saved. But even a pistolera like herself had obligations. When she realized she had left someone behind, it was no longer time to save the day in that strange land. She can't say she didn't regret leaving that brave land behind. But maybe the real meaning of freedom is you can choose to live in the cage of your obligations.

Unfortunately for her, she isn't sure what she's looking for anymore. It's a rather confusing thing, but she knows she had someone to defend. A family to live up to. But for the life of her, she can't remember who it is.

Description: She possesses dusky peach skin, with a dark, wavy mane. Eyes that are darker still flash from beneath the broad brim of the hats that she wears, a Stetson being the most common. A silver belt buckle holds up rough blue jeans, typically, and when she feels like being truly anachronistic she wears her midnight-hued poncho with leather cowgirl boots. Most days, however, a checkered shirt and running shoes are enough.