Showing posts with label Characters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Characters. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Pregenerated Characters
At John D's request I've put up the premade characters I've rolled up for the new players in my upcoming one shot. Those interested can get them here!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Meet the wasteland 4: Harold
The next in our line-up of mutated wastelanders, the ever lovable, grumpy mutant Harold and his buddy Herbert, sorry, Bob.
Harold (veteran Wild Card)
You see before you what looks like a particularly ugly, decrepit Ghoul shambling in your direction. You immediately notice that he seems to be missing quite a few body parts, his right hand among them. What really draws your attention however is his deformed face: a twisted mess of dark green leathery skin, the sinews and flesh underneath peering through in many places, and only a single eye remaining, large and yellow. But hideous as his countenance may be, it's what on his head that makes this creature such a uniquely bizarre sight: amid the few tufts of grey hair a small tree, of a kind you've never seen before, seems to be growing from his cranium. As the mutant passes by, he turns his eye toward you and notices you staring at him. He stops to look you over, and says in a grinding voice: "Well, what are ya standin' there fo', gawkin' like an idjit? Ya ne'er seen an ugly ol' Ghoul with a tree growin' outta his head befo'?" He glares at you for a moment, then seems to think his words over, and starts again in a softer tone, laughing: "Well no, I s'pose ya haven't, I fo' sure ain't ne'er seen any, 'part from myself!" He extends his left hand and continues: "Name's Harold, pleased ta meet ya," he rolls his eye, looking up toward the tree, "an' this here is Herbert." He suddenly lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. "Naw, I'm jus' kiddin' ya. What kinda name would Herbert be fo' a tree? His real name's Bob. He hates it when I do that." He winks at you, knowingly, though you're not sure you get the joke.
Harold is a one-of-a-kind inhabitant of the wasteland. Though he resembles a Ghoul in appearance, he's actually the result of FEV mutation. Originally a vault dweller, Harold was part of the first expedition into the Mariposa military base, together with, among others, Richard Grey. Knocked unconscious after entering the vats room and waking up again out in the desert, already heavily mutated, Harold might actually be the first FEV mutated human since the Great War. It's possible that his unique form of mutation might have resulted from only superficial contact with the goo, instead of being dipped in the vats like Super Mutants. Harold started travelling through the wasteland after the incident, staying in the same place for a while and then moving on again, losing a couple of body parts along the way. After his sojourns in the Hub and Los, he eventually wound up in Gecko, where he took charge of the nuclear power plant that was being run by the Ghoul population there. By this time Harold's mutation had developed even further, causing a strange small tree to start growing from his head, whose name is Bob and doesn't like to be called Herbert at all. Whether Bob is actually sentient is unclear, but it seems the two of them have some sort of shared consciousness. A side effect of the tree growing out of his head is that Harold is now very much afraid of fire. Despite his ghastly appearance and often cranky demeanour, Harold is very friendly and good natured and will always try to help out those in need. Lately Bob hasn't been feeling too well, and Harold is starting to feel the effects of it too.
Parry 5 - Toughness 6 - Rad Immune - Pace 5 - Run die d6
Strength d6 - Agility d6 - Vigor d6 - Smarts d6 - Spirit d10 - Charisma -4
Fighting d6 - Small Guns d6 - Taunt d8 - Notice d6 - Survival d8 - Repair d12 - Science d8 - Persuasion d6 - Streetwise d10 - Barter d10
H: Decrepit - One Arm - One Eye - Phobia (m)
E: Mr. Fix It - Tech Wizard - Vats Skin - Vault Dweller - Wastelander
Harold (veteran Wild Card)
You see before you what looks like a particularly ugly, decrepit Ghoul shambling in your direction. You immediately notice that he seems to be missing quite a few body parts, his right hand among them. What really draws your attention however is his deformed face: a twisted mess of dark green leathery skin, the sinews and flesh underneath peering through in many places, and only a single eye remaining, large and yellow. But hideous as his countenance may be, it's what on his head that makes this creature such a uniquely bizarre sight: amid the few tufts of grey hair a small tree, of a kind you've never seen before, seems to be growing from his cranium. As the mutant passes by, he turns his eye toward you and notices you staring at him. He stops to look you over, and says in a grinding voice: "Well, what are ya standin' there fo', gawkin' like an idjit? Ya ne'er seen an ugly ol' Ghoul with a tree growin' outta his head befo'?" He glares at you for a moment, then seems to think his words over, and starts again in a softer tone, laughing: "Well no, I s'pose ya haven't, I fo' sure ain't ne'er seen any, 'part from myself!" He extends his left hand and continues: "Name's Harold, pleased ta meet ya," he rolls his eye, looking up toward the tree, "an' this here is Herbert." He suddenly lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. "Naw, I'm jus' kiddin' ya. What kinda name would Herbert be fo' a tree? His real name's Bob. He hates it when I do that." He winks at you, knowingly, though you're not sure you get the joke.
Harold is a one-of-a-kind inhabitant of the wasteland. Though he resembles a Ghoul in appearance, he's actually the result of FEV mutation. Originally a vault dweller, Harold was part of the first expedition into the Mariposa military base, together with, among others, Richard Grey. Knocked unconscious after entering the vats room and waking up again out in the desert, already heavily mutated, Harold might actually be the first FEV mutated human since the Great War. It's possible that his unique form of mutation might have resulted from only superficial contact with the goo, instead of being dipped in the vats like Super Mutants. Harold started travelling through the wasteland after the incident, staying in the same place for a while and then moving on again, losing a couple of body parts along the way. After his sojourns in the Hub and Los, he eventually wound up in Gecko, where he took charge of the nuclear power plant that was being run by the Ghoul population there. By this time Harold's mutation had developed even further, causing a strange small tree to start growing from his head, whose name is Bob and doesn't like to be called Herbert at all. Whether Bob is actually sentient is unclear, but it seems the two of them have some sort of shared consciousness. A side effect of the tree growing out of his head is that Harold is now very much afraid of fire. Despite his ghastly appearance and often cranky demeanour, Harold is very friendly and good natured and will always try to help out those in need. Lately Bob hasn't been feeling too well, and Harold is starting to feel the effects of it too.
Parry 5 - Toughness 6 - Rad Immune - Pace 5 - Run die d6
Strength d6 - Agility d6 - Vigor d6 - Smarts d6 - Spirit d10 - Charisma -4
Fighting d6 - Small Guns d6 - Taunt d8 - Notice d6 - Survival d8 - Repair d12 - Science d8 - Persuasion d6 - Streetwise d10 - Barter d10
H: Decrepit - One Arm - One Eye - Phobia (m)
E: Mr. Fix It - Tech Wizard - Vats Skin - Vault Dweller - Wastelander
Friday, February 11, 2011
Meet the wasteland 3: Marcus
Today's feature, everyone's favourite Super Mutant: Marcus!
Marcus (veteran Wild Card)
The tall, brawny Mutant you see before you seems very different from most Super Mutants you've encountered during your travels; somehow he looks friendlier, more human, perhaps, in his demeanor. You notice his face is not contorted by the sort of leather straps that make others of his kind perpetually bare their teeth in a menacing grin. As you approach he gives you a stern look-over with his two small, deep-set yet intelligent eyes, and frowns, which seems to be his favoured facial expression, judging from the deep furrows in his forehead. All the while as you drew near he has held a huge machine gun in his equally huge hands, but firmly pointed toward the ground. When you stand almost face to face, he takes his right hand of the weapon's trigger and raises it in greeting. In a deep, booming voice he says: "Well met, stranger. I'll take the liberty of calling you friend as you haven't tried to shoot me up to this point; my name's Marcus, one-time sheriff of Broken Hills, now a traveller of the wastes like yourself." He briefly looks down at his gun and gives it a pat with his hand. "I hope you didn't have any unpleasant business in mind, as I wouldn't like you doing something you'll end up regretting."
Marcus was the Super Mutant sheriff of the mining town of Broken Hills, where Super Mutants, Ghouls and humans lived together in relative harmony. In 2241 he joined the tribal known as the Chosen One on his journeys, assisted in the destruction of the Enclave oil rig and would later head east, to find other refugees of the Master's army. He's down to earth, quite intelligent and for Super Mutant standards very restrained, though that doesn't mean he'll let himself be messed around with. Marcus prefers to resolve matters peaceably if possible, but is not afraid to get his hands dirty if the situation calls for it. He specializes in heavy weaponry though is not the most accurate of shooters, so lookers-on better stay clear when he readies his machine gun.
Parry 7 - Toughness 10 - Rad Immune - Pace 6 - Run die d6
Strength d12+1 - Agility d8 - Vigor d10 - Smarts d6 - Spirit d6 - Charisma -4
Fighting d10 - Small Guns d6 - Heavy Weapons d12 - Explosives d6 - Taunt d6 - Intimidation d10 - Notice d6 - Survival d10 - Persuasion d6 - Streetwise d6
H: Fast Shot (m) - Stubborn
E: Bracing - Hard to Kill - Strong Willed - Vats Skin
Minigun, Makeshift Leather-Metal Armor +1, Pilot Goggles
Marcus (veteran Wild Card)
The tall, brawny Mutant you see before you seems very different from most Super Mutants you've encountered during your travels; somehow he looks friendlier, more human, perhaps, in his demeanor. You notice his face is not contorted by the sort of leather straps that make others of his kind perpetually bare their teeth in a menacing grin. As you approach he gives you a stern look-over with his two small, deep-set yet intelligent eyes, and frowns, which seems to be his favoured facial expression, judging from the deep furrows in his forehead. All the while as you drew near he has held a huge machine gun in his equally huge hands, but firmly pointed toward the ground. When you stand almost face to face, he takes his right hand of the weapon's trigger and raises it in greeting. In a deep, booming voice he says: "Well met, stranger. I'll take the liberty of calling you friend as you haven't tried to shoot me up to this point; my name's Marcus, one-time sheriff of Broken Hills, now a traveller of the wastes like yourself." He briefly looks down at his gun and gives it a pat with his hand. "I hope you didn't have any unpleasant business in mind, as I wouldn't like you doing something you'll end up regretting."
Marcus was the Super Mutant sheriff of the mining town of Broken Hills, where Super Mutants, Ghouls and humans lived together in relative harmony. In 2241 he joined the tribal known as the Chosen One on his journeys, assisted in the destruction of the Enclave oil rig and would later head east, to find other refugees of the Master's army. He's down to earth, quite intelligent and for Super Mutant standards very restrained, though that doesn't mean he'll let himself be messed around with. Marcus prefers to resolve matters peaceably if possible, but is not afraid to get his hands dirty if the situation calls for it. He specializes in heavy weaponry though is not the most accurate of shooters, so lookers-on better stay clear when he readies his machine gun.
Parry 7 - Toughness 10 - Rad Immune - Pace 6 - Run die d6
Strength d12+1 - Agility d8 - Vigor d10 - Smarts d6 - Spirit d6 - Charisma -4
Fighting d10 - Small Guns d6 - Heavy Weapons d12 - Explosives d6 - Taunt d6 - Intimidation d10 - Notice d6 - Survival d10 - Persuasion d6 - Streetwise d6
H: Fast Shot (m) - Stubborn
E: Bracing - Hard to Kill - Strong Willed - Vats Skin
Minigun, Makeshift Leather-Metal Armor +1, Pilot Goggles
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Meet the wasteland 2: Goris
A write-up for Goris, whom you might remember as a recruitable companion in Fallout 2.
Goris (seasoned Wild Card)
The mysterious robed figure you see before you makes quite the impressive sight. Standing easily 10 feet tall and bulkier than any man or mutant you've ever seen, even a Super Mutant has to look up to try and catch this stranger's gaze. Clad in a large rough spun pair of robes, his face is entirely obscured by a deep hood, his arms hidden in wide sleeves, the rest of his body indiscernible in the long flowing robes. There is something peculiar about his stance, but you're not quite sure what it is exactly. He turns his head in your direction and, without saying a word, looks at you, and seems to scrutinize you carefully. After a long moment he finally speaks: "Hello traveller, I'm Goris, son of Gruthar. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Forgive me if I don't extend my hand in greeting, but I'm afflicted by a terrible mutation and would not want to frighten or revolt you." His voice is harsh and rasping, and sounds unfamiliar and unpleasant to your ears, but the friendliness of his words almost immediately puts you at ease.
Goris is one of the last, if not the last, of the intelligent Deathclaws bred and later exterminated by the Enclave. Away on a scholarly trip when Horrigan's men slaughtered everyone in Vault 13, Goris now roams the wasteland, seeking knowledge, to improve relations between different species, and perhaps others of his kind still remaining. As Deathclaws are only known as mindless monsters, Goris has a serious social disadvantage when interacting with others. To hide his reptilian appearance he always goes disguised in large, loose fitting brown robes which he throws off when entering combat. Due to this he has -6 Charisma, though this is reduced to -2 when wearing his robes. He cannot use weapons or perform actions that would require human-like hands. His claws are natural weapons and do St+d6 damage and as such he is never considered an Unarmed Defender. Goris also has infravision which halves penalties for darkness modifiers.
Parry 9 - Toughness 11 - Rad Resistance d8 - Pace 8 - Run die d8
Strength d12+2 - Agility d10 - Vigor d10 - Smarts d8 - Spirit d8 - Charisma -6
Fighting d12+2 - Intimidation d12 - Notice d12 - Stealth d10 - Survival d12 - Science d6 - Persuasion d8 - Streetwise d4
H: Pacifist (m) - Curious
E: Ambidextrous - Imp. Frenzy - Imp. Nerves of Steel - Scholar
Plain Brown Robes, Satchel
Goris (seasoned Wild Card)
The mysterious robed figure you see before you makes quite the impressive sight. Standing easily 10 feet tall and bulkier than any man or mutant you've ever seen, even a Super Mutant has to look up to try and catch this stranger's gaze. Clad in a large rough spun pair of robes, his face is entirely obscured by a deep hood, his arms hidden in wide sleeves, the rest of his body indiscernible in the long flowing robes. There is something peculiar about his stance, but you're not quite sure what it is exactly. He turns his head in your direction and, without saying a word, looks at you, and seems to scrutinize you carefully. After a long moment he finally speaks: "Hello traveller, I'm Goris, son of Gruthar. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Forgive me if I don't extend my hand in greeting, but I'm afflicted by a terrible mutation and would not want to frighten or revolt you." His voice is harsh and rasping, and sounds unfamiliar and unpleasant to your ears, but the friendliness of his words almost immediately puts you at ease.
Goris is one of the last, if not the last, of the intelligent Deathclaws bred and later exterminated by the Enclave. Away on a scholarly trip when Horrigan's men slaughtered everyone in Vault 13, Goris now roams the wasteland, seeking knowledge, to improve relations between different species, and perhaps others of his kind still remaining. As Deathclaws are only known as mindless monsters, Goris has a serious social disadvantage when interacting with others. To hide his reptilian appearance he always goes disguised in large, loose fitting brown robes which he throws off when entering combat. Due to this he has -6 Charisma, though this is reduced to -2 when wearing his robes. He cannot use weapons or perform actions that would require human-like hands. His claws are natural weapons and do St+d6 damage and as such he is never considered an Unarmed Defender. Goris also has infravision which halves penalties for darkness modifiers.
Parry 9 - Toughness 11 - Rad Resistance d8 - Pace 8 - Run die d8
Strength d12+2 - Agility d10 - Vigor d10 - Smarts d8 - Spirit d8 - Charisma -6
Fighting d12+2 - Intimidation d12 - Notice d12 - Stealth d10 - Survival d12 - Science d6 - Persuasion d8 - Streetwise d4
H: Pacifist (m) - Curious
E: Ambidextrous - Imp. Frenzy - Imp. Nerves of Steel - Scholar
Plain Brown Robes, Satchel
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Meet the wasteland 1: Boulder Jack
The first installment in a hopefully long running series where we take a look at some of the more memorable NPCs that populate post-apocalyptic California. Potential foe or ally, that's up to the players. Also I'd like to stat some of the characters that made an appearance in Fallout 2 which my players might run into at some point. I'll kick off with an outlaw by the name of Boulder Jack.
As you walk into the room, you notice the man sitting at the corner table, tall and lean from the looks of it, not the youngest anymore, with a short, closely cropped beard, ear-length dark matted hair and steel grey eyes that give you a penetrating glance as he looks up from his drink, grins, and gets up. All dressed in black, you catch a glimpse of the silver .44 Magnum on his hip as his duster falls open. He doffs his rawhide cowboy hat and affects a little mock bow. "Business or pleasure?" he asks, still the same grin on his face as he sits down again, "or did I kill anyone you know and now you're here to reckon with me?" In one casual motion he takes his gun from its holster and puts it down on the table in front of him, within easy reach, all the while looking straight at you, defiantly. "Sixteen men have tried to best me and as many men are dead." he smirks, as you notice the notches on the gun.
Jack is an outlaw from Boulder, Colorado who recently cut a swath through Nevada and made an enemy of the desert rangers after gunning two of them down. Moving out west to lay low in the border region with California, he's trying to shake off the ranger who's hunting him down.
Boulder Jack (veteran Wild Card)
Parry 6/7 - Toughness 6 - Rad Resistance 0 - Pace 6 - Run die d6
Strength d8 - Agility d12 - Vigor d8 - Smarts d6 - Spirit d6 - Charisma 0
Fighting d8 - Small Guns d12 - Explosives d6 - Intimidation d10 - Taunt d10 - Notice d8 - Stealth d6 - Lockpick d6 - Climbing d6 - Survival d6 - Repair d4 - Medicine d4 - Persuasion d6 - Streetwise d6 - Barter d6
H: Arrogant - Vengeful - Wanted
E: Quick, Quick Draw, Marksman, Quick Reload, Gunslinger
.44 Magnum, Black Canvas Duster: +1 vs hand weapons, Black Rawhide Cowboy Hat
As you walk into the room, you notice the man sitting at the corner table, tall and lean from the looks of it, not the youngest anymore, with a short, closely cropped beard, ear-length dark matted hair and steel grey eyes that give you a penetrating glance as he looks up from his drink, grins, and gets up. All dressed in black, you catch a glimpse of the silver .44 Magnum on his hip as his duster falls open. He doffs his rawhide cowboy hat and affects a little mock bow. "Business or pleasure?" he asks, still the same grin on his face as he sits down again, "or did I kill anyone you know and now you're here to reckon with me?" In one casual motion he takes his gun from its holster and puts it down on the table in front of him, within easy reach, all the while looking straight at you, defiantly. "Sixteen men have tried to best me and as many men are dead." he smirks, as you notice the notches on the gun.
Jack is an outlaw from Boulder, Colorado who recently cut a swath through Nevada and made an enemy of the desert rangers after gunning two of them down. Moving out west to lay low in the border region with California, he's trying to shake off the ranger who's hunting him down.
Boulder Jack (veteran Wild Card)
Parry 6/7 - Toughness 6 - Rad Resistance 0 - Pace 6 - Run die d6
Strength d8 - Agility d12 - Vigor d8 - Smarts d6 - Spirit d6 - Charisma 0
Fighting d8 - Small Guns d12 - Explosives d6 - Intimidation d10 - Taunt d10 - Notice d8 - Stealth d6 - Lockpick d6 - Climbing d6 - Survival d6 - Repair d4 - Medicine d4 - Persuasion d6 - Streetwise d6 - Barter d6
H: Arrogant - Vengeful - Wanted
E: Quick, Quick Draw, Marksman, Quick Reload, Gunslinger
.44 Magnum, Black Canvas Duster: +1 vs hand weapons, Black Rawhide Cowboy Hat
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