|Name:||Edward Ethan AKA E2|
|OCC:||Biker Knight (Reaper)|
|HT||7’0"||Save vs Spell||+1|
|WT||240 lbs||Save vs ritual|
|PPE||Save vs Psionic|
|ISP||0||Save vs toxin|
|HP||28||Save vs poison||+1|
|SDC||9/57||Save vs Drugs|
|Exp.||0||Save vs Insanity|
|Birthday||7/4/’76(Age:39)||Save vs possession|
|HTH:||Expert||Save vs horror||+4|
|Money||Save vs coma/death||+5%|
|Trade Goods||$5000||Save vs pain|
|Alignment||Scrupulous||Save vs illusion|
|Charm/Impress||0%||Save vs mind control|
Note:Combat values after slash are while fighting zombies. Additional +1 on Called shots.
HTH: Expert Can use Karate Punch
Special Aptitude Bonus: Sure Shot. +2 to hit with all projectile weapons. Normal penalties are half. Does not apply to thrown weapons/explosives
|Weapon Proficiencies||Level Acquired||Strike||Parry/Disarm||Thrown||Attacks|
|Weapons:||Damage||SDC or Make||AR or Range|
|12 ga shotgun||4d6|
|50 cal Rifle||6d6|
|OCC Skills||Base %||OCC B+||CL-A||C-R||Total %|
|Lore: Death Cults||16%||20%||1||4%||44%|
|Combat Driving||-||-||1||1 penalty reduction||2 penalty reduction|
Skill Bonuses not otherwise covered:
Combat Driving Firing while driving: Normal bonuses apply. -2 penalty. Called Shot/Aimed Shot while driving: Normal bonuses apply, additional -2 penalty.
|Elective Skills||Base %||OCC B+||CL-A||C-R||Total %|
Skill Bonuses not otherwise covered:
Boxing: KO on natural twenty even if not declared
Kick Boxing: Roundhouse Kick (3d6), Axe Kick (2d8), Knee Strike (1d8), Leap Kick (2 attacks, 3d8)
|Secondary Skills||Base %||Bonus+||CL-A||C-R||Total %|
|Astronomy & Navigation||30%||0||3||5%||30%|
One suit riding armor, one suit combat armor of choice, Street cloths, steel toed boots, leather gloves, rain poncho(cheap), First aid kit, Heavy duty flashlight, small flashlight, pocket mirror, leather jacket, refillable lighter, 2 books of matches, duct tape, eating utensils, binoculars, walkie-talkie, sunglasses, two canteens, backpack, duffle bag, knapsack, food rations (1 week), personal items.
2 HK 45 Pistols
2 Mosberg 12 Ga Shotgun
The voice that I remembered so well answered me, “Eddie?”
“Eddie, I’ve worried so much about you.”
I sat there listening to her as she updated me on the things that had changed in the last six months or so. That voice that I only wanted to give praise to me. That voice that had shattered my entire world all those years ago now.
I had been doing my thing, hoping that my mother never found out. Hoping that no one found out really. I was already over six foot tall, even at fourteen, and that embarrassed me. I hated the way that my body had changed seemingly overnight. Nothing fit me anymore. My body no longer fit me. All I wanted was to fit that image of perfection that I had for myself and being a six foot tall gangly freak wasn’t it.
The freak part wasn’t because of my height in my book.
My mother came home early from her social event that day. I’d never planned on telling her, or my step dad, anything about this.
She locked me in my room until my step dad came home.
In the past I’d let the man hit me. I’d let him punish me when I’d done wrong. I was not doing anything wrong in my own mind.
I beat him to death with my bare hands. He kept getting up and laying into me. Kept hitting me. By the time he stopped putting up a fight I had four cracked ribs, the orbits of both eyes were crushed, there were hairline fractures in my pelvis, and a boxer’s fracture in my right hand.
I was in pain and could barely think, hell, I could barely see. When I finally came back to myself I was just kicking a lump of meat.
I ran before the cops could arrive. I wasn’t going to go to jail over all of this. No for that piece of human garbage.
Sammy, a pimp, found me a doctor that night. Got me fixed up and my breaks splinted or a cast put in place.
The broken orbits on my face were taken care of especially well. I didn’t know at the time what Sammy was trying to do, and possibly wouldn’t have fought him, but when he came onto me after the casts came off I beat him as well. Not as badly as my step father, but enough to let him know I was nobody’s whore.
The Road Angels took me in when I wandered into their bar a couple of weeks later. I was big for my age and starving. They thought I was eighteen, but of course that’s how old I told them I was. The surgery to my face helped me to pass.
One of the girls they put me with was a school teacher. I wasn’t interested in the real reason I was supposed to be with her, and neither was she. She taught me and helped me get ready for my GED. It’s not the only thing I wanted.
I studied as much as I possibly could for the next two years, going over practice tests again and again. I knew I was learning for the exam, but it didn’t matter to me. With a GED I needed the best score I possibly could get for the next test I would be taking. I got 1560 on my SATs and entered pre-law.
The Road Angels understood my dedication. They were pleased with my dedication, and even let me off the hook, so to speak. Those ladies treated me more like my mother than my mother ever did. I went to college and did well there, spending most of my free time studying, especially after the only person I ever loved, romantically, kicked me to the curb.
I got a 180 on my LSATs. The Road Angels paid for me to go to Harvard. I was their lawyer. They farmed me out to the corporation on a sort of temporary basis. The money I maid allowed me to fill my guest room with everything I needed to feel happy after everything in college had fallen through. Custom made clothing items were required due to my size. I had all the money I needed to pay for them. More and more, though I find that even the thought of that clothing leaves me ill. It reminds me too much of everything that I am trying to leave behind.
I hang up with my mom after a few more minutes of small talk, knowing that I’ve finished my familial obligations for the week.