Name: Moroni P. Johnson Race: Human
Class: Dedicated Hero
Level: 2
Gender: Male
Size: Medium
Eyes: Green
Hair: Blonde
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 192 lbs
Starting Occupation: Sodbuster
Initiative: +1
Reputation: 1
Wealth Bonus: +1
Armor Class: 13 . . (10+ 0 Armor) . . (+1 Dex) . . (+2Def. Bonus)
FF: 10
Touch: 13
Base Speed: 30
Base Attack Bonus: +1
Melee Attack: +2 (+1 BAB, +1 Str)
Ranged Attack: +2 (+1 BAB, +1 Dex)
Grit (Max): 23(?) . . . Current: 23(?)
ABILITIES
STR: . 12 . . .+1 (12 pts)
DEX: . 12 . . +1 (12 pts)
CON: . 18 . . +4 (18 pts)
INT: . .12 . . +1 (12 pts)
WIS: . 18 . . +4 (18 pts)
CHA: . 14 . . +2 (14 pts)
SAVING THROWS
SAVE . . . Total . Base . Mod
Fortitude: .+6 . . .+2 . . +4
Reflex: . . +1 . . . +0 . . +1
Will: . . . . +6 . . .+2 . . +4
FEATS
Simple Weapon Proficiency (Dedicated)
Personal Firearms proficiency (Sodbuster)
1st Toughness
1st Attentive
2nd Alertness
TALENTS
Skill Emphasis: Sense Motive
CLASS SKILLS
Handle Animal: +3 . (+1 Ranks) . (+2 Cha)
Investigate: +4 . (+1 Ranks) . (+1 Int) . (+2 Feat)
Listen: +11 . (+5 Ranks) . (+4 Wis) . (+2 Feat)
Profession: Farmer: +5 . (+1 Ranks) . (+4 Wis)
Ride: +2 . (+1 Ranks) . (+1 Dex)
Sense Motive: +14 . (+5 Ranks) . (+4 Wis) . (+3 Talent) . (+2 Feat)
Spot: +11 . (+5 Ranks) . (+4 Wis) . (+2 Feat)
Survival: +5 . (+1 Ranks) . (+4 Wis)
Treat Injury: +9 . (+5 Ranks) . (+4 Wis)
Craft; Pharmaceuticals +2 . (+1 Ranks) . (+1 Int)
Craft; Writing +2 . (+1 Ranks) . (+1 Int)
Knowledge; Earth and Life Sciences +2 . (+1 Ranks) . (+1 Int)
Knowledge; Theology +3 . (+2 Ranks) . (+1 Int)
LANGUAGES SPOKEN
English
Background
Bro. Moroni Johnson was born in the small, western New York town of Bainbridge. Even before his birth, his father, a successful doctor, practiced under the influences of the Church of Christ, and from a young age, their family's life was wrapped around the congregation. In the wake of Revivals and conferences, his family's moves to Fayette, NY, and then to Kirtland, OH. With his father's health failing, Moroni decides to follow the path of Bringham Young and the teachings of John Smith, and set out west to help spread the good word. Married at a young age to the beautiful Constance Taylor-Johnson, his childhood sweetheart; he, his wife, and his young son set out for America's western frontier to escape religious persecution in the East.
After a short stay in Independence, MO, they follow a wagon train through the West. After many hardships, the pilgrims finally arrive at the Great Salt Lake. But what Bro. Johnson found in Salt Lake City was not what he had expected. Infighting, adultery, and blame, all in the name of The Holy Father. Church leaders had made apocalyptic speeches and witch hunt-like accusations almost a weekly occurrence in the town. Moroni was disheartened by the Church's state, and after two years, he and his family (with his second, newborn son), left the Church under threat of violence from one of the elders. The issue at hand was a blood transfusion that Moroni had performed on an outlying farm from a black ranch hand, to a white woman who had lost blood from a miscarriage. Having formerly made his way as a surgeon's assistant, and some time literary correspondent, Moroni had resigned to the prospect of eking out an existence as a homesteader on the open frontier.
All was well for the family Johnson, for 3 years they lived 60 some odd miles from the nearest town, raising a farm as best they could, raising their sons of 9 and 5 years of age, and teaching them how to do the Lord's good work. It was one month when Moroni had gone to town to buy supplies, a three day trip usually. Hailstorms fell, hampering his trip, stretching it out to a week. Yet upon his return, the skies cleared and the weather was fair. But as he made his way through the pass to start up the trail to his own home, he say smoke rising from the distant horizon. Moroni, panicked as he was, jumped on the younger of his two horses and cut it from the wagon, racing back to his home. His house was burning, and he could spot four horses ties up to a nearby fence. It looked as thought the men were on the other side of the barn, and he crept up with his rifle. There they were, three men, tying his wife, Constance to a post, his sons lying on the ground, bleeding at the head, not moving. He approached unhindered, and as the men surrounded his wife, he loaded a bullet into his chamber with a loud metallic snap. "You get away from her, or Heavenly Father help me I'll.......", the men turned around to look at him, and there was the sound of a gunshot. But it was not from Bro. Johnson's rifle. Everything went dark.
Moroni awoke to shadows dancing in the wall. There was a fire behind him, and he was in...a cave? He jumped up with a start, only to be greeted with a fiery pain shooting from his chest and down his arm. Collapsing back on the blanket that he had found himself on, he realized that he wasn't alone. The man tending the fire later identified himself as Lonely Tree, an Indian of a tribe that Moroni had never heard of. Lonely Tree relayed to Bro. Johnson he he had found his wagon in the fields, and then he and his family on the homestead, in the shadow of a burning house. The Indian was ready to leave them for dead, when he heard Moroni calling out, delirious. He said his medicine had brought him back from the Shadows, but when Moroni asked for his family, Lonely Tree led him outside. Shallow graves were dug, and rocks were laid out. The Indian allowed Bro. Johnson to weep on their graves, and then together, they buried them on the lone prairie.
In the weeks that Lonely Tree stayed with Bro. Johnson while he regained his strength, salvaging what they could from the farm. Soon, they became fast friends. Moroni talked of the Holy Father, and the Indian seemingly mocked him, saying, "Is he the Father who made you into the spirit of the mountain lion?" Yet on many mornings, Lonely Tree told Moroni that he had spoken in his sleep, "as if great spirits were trying to enter the world through him." Moroni awoke with no memories of his nightmares. The Indian said that Bro. Johnson's medicine was strong, but he would need help when the spirits came again to try to take his life. Moroni shook his head and quoted scripture. Without warning one morning, he was gone, not a trace of Lonely Tree's existence could be found, except for a dying fire, and a long, intricately patterned coat, neatly packed in Bro. Johnson's saddlebag.
Bro. Johnson rode out from that accursed valley. His newfound grit and determination would lead him to a new town and a new life. He still considers himself a married man, his wife would not want his soul to be torn apart by the temptation of raw vengeance. But still, Bro. Moroni Johnson has taken a new stance on those who would treat others ill. Though he may never be able to turn a gun on a man, he is still dedicated in helping to bring justice to this lawless land.
