Rafe Ryan Rand
Character Name: Rafe ‘Ryan’ Rand
Archetype: Fixer/Face Man/ Leader type.
Starting CP: 30(start)+6(CHA)=41 – 40cp =1cp left over
Age:15 (I lie and say I’m 18, well 17…)
AP: 2 (1cp trade)
Aptitude: Physical 4
Attributes: CRD 6/RCT 3, HLT 3/VIT 5, MUS 4/STA 2, CHA 6/WPR 2, INT 3/PER 6, RSN 4/SAN 2
Traits: Good Luck (1 CP), Poverty (1CP)
Skills: Climb 1+1=2 (1cp)(CRD/MUS), Evasion 2+1=3 (3cp)(RSP/PER), Fend 2+1=3 (3cp) (CRD/PER), Grapple 1+1=2 (1cp)(MUS/CRD), Jump 1+1=2 (1cp)(CRD/MUS), Language: Speak Gladnor 4+0=4 (0cp)(RSN), Literacy 1+0=1 (1cp)(RSN), Melee 3+1=4 (6cp) (CRD/MUS), Persuasion 4+1=5 (10cp) (INT/CHA), Propel 2+2=4 (3cp) (CRD/PER), Stealth 1+2=3 (1cp) (CRD/PER), Urban Survival 3+1=4 (6cp)(RSN/INT), Sleight of Hand 1+1=2 [CRD/RSP](1cp)= 36cp
It seemed like I could get people to do stuff for me at an early age. I was born on the edge of the slums, a little better off than those whom lived in them. My mother used men to get what she wanted, she had lots of ‘male friends’ but no one in particular that would take care of her for any length of time, her lower class and behavior kept her in those slums. I learned a how to read from some of the various men in her life. The death of her primary benefactor and hard times led her to one of the better prostitution houses in the slum. Fortunately my charm kept me out of the orphanage or being sold off as well as sometimes ‘put to work’ in the ‘house’ to earn my keep. One night while out with a client the the ‘jon’ and her where attacked and she was killed. the ‘jon’ paid some extra for the ‘house’ to keep me it all under the table and used the excuse to put me up until I could take care of myself. eventually some authority wasn’t paid properly and/or the ‘house’ got implicated in some shadier business dealings and was closed down and torched. all that is left of it now is a burnt out shell with the ladies scattered. The head madam headed off for greener pastures in the middle of the night with all the loot.
That landed me on the streets at age 12. I was able to talk his way into the ‘shirt tails’ of one of the street gangs with the knowledge of some of the people who where clients of the old ‘house’ I lived in. at least giving me some food and someplace to crash. eventually their heists end up pissing off the wrong people and the little gang got wiped out from a hit one night. I narrowly escaping with my life. Primarily because I was sleeping in a closet and was able to sneak out the 3rd story window and jump over onto the roof of the adjoining building. I’ve been keeping a low profile for a while staying at various brothels and homes that some of this mom’s old friends work at and sleeping in the old burnt out building in a place you have to really climb up to get at. about a year has passed since the other gang was slain. My voice and looks have changed so much, most everyone who knew me from before can hardly recognize me unless they’ve seen me on a regular basis. I never heard anything about any survivors of the old gang. I believe they think they got them all.
He’s a little older (18). Use to sometimes hang out with an older group of thugs but a few years back but they got wiped out. he was the only one to survive affiliated with a job that went south. been hanging around with the guys for the past few years keeping a (relatively) low profile after that.