Hi! this is my background and preliminary character sheet. It is heavily based on the real life of Robert Johnson. I hope that is not a problem.
*A tall handsome black man enters the room. He is clad in a perfect suit, wearing a fashionable hat and carrying a guitar case in his right hand. A cigarette hangs loosely from his lips. When he puts his case besides the table and hangs his coat over the chair, a bottle of rye and two glasses can be seen in his left hand. As he pours out the rye, you notice the eye you have heard about. This wild staring eye seems to lead a life of his own, and you can’t help but wondering whether the rumours are true
“So,”
*he begins, as you desperately try not to stare at his eye
“You wanted to know about Charlie Johnson?”
“I shall begin with what I once believed where my grandparents. Charles and Harriet Dodds and Gabriel and Lucinda Brown Majors were all born into slavery--Mr. Dodds in North Carolina, all the others in Mississippi. I can tell you right now, being black in those days was even harder than it is now. It is even a wonder they survived long enough for me to know them. My would-be father Charles Dodds, Jr. and dear sweet mamma Julia Ann Majors, married in Hazlehurst, Mississippi, in February 1879. Mr. Dodds was a mean man. He used to beat mamma.
This Mr. Dodds became a successful and well-respected, land-owning farmer and a fine carpenter. He and mamma raised six daughters and a son. Alas, a personal vendetta by the prominent Marchetti Brothers forced mr. Dodds to flee Mississippi and take up residence in Memphis around 1907 under the assumed name of Spencer. After his successful, yet clandestine departure, he sent for mamma and her daughters. However, Sweet mamma with two of my beloved sisters remained in Hazlehurst, where the Marchetti's soon uprooted them from their house and displaced them from their land.
In the meantime, yours truly was born May 8, 1901, in Hazlehurst, Mississippi. However, we didn't stay in Hazlehurst long. Still a babe-in-arms, my mamma took me and my baby sister, Carrie, and signed on with a Delta labour supplier. After a couple of very hard and unsettling seasons in migrant labour camps, we were living in Memphis with, and as, the family of Mr. Spencer, who really still was that mean old Mr. Dodds.
And so, Memphis became my home for the next couple of years. I lived there in Handwerker Hill residence until around 1913, when it became apparent working was not entirely my cup of tea, if you catch my drift. My “father” was discovered to cheat on mamma with a local woman. After a drunk night when Mr. Spencer laid his hands on me, sweet mamma took me to Robinsonville. We lived here for a few years, and mamma remarried Willie Willis. At my fifteenth birthday, mamma told me that my real father was a man by the name of Noah Johnson, the man whom she favored in Mr. Dodds absence from Hazlehurst, back in those dark days. From then on I would use the name Johnson, and I tried to forget that mean Mr. Dodds.
At school I took nothing but beating. They said I wouldn’t listen, and wasn’t paying attention. Well, sir, they were wrong. One day the teacher hit me so bad, my shirt was red with blood. It was then that I cut him. I didn’t mean to, but I was so scared. In the end, I think I should have done it much sooner.
So there I was, running with nothing more than my guitar, and an old dirty suit. I even hadn’t a hat. I’ve been running for four years now, and I still got that guitar. Got me a new suit though!”
* Charlie picks up the now half filled bottle of rye and pours another glass. Nervously you stare at his eye.
“Ok” * Charlie continues “I suppose you want to know everything about the eye, don’t you? You want to know if I really sold my soul at that crossroad, right? Well who knows, right? Since I met that man there, my guitar ‘s been treating me good. I got this new suit and all. I don’t hear you complaining about no rye either. So now you know as much as I. I just want to make it another day, you know? And besides, most of you whites don’t even believe we have souls, right? So that’s settled. Finish your rye and leave me be. I’ve been in this town for three days now, and the ground is getting hot.”
Charlie Johnson, Age 22
3rd Level Musician (Defensive)
HP: 16
San: 80
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30 ft.
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Armor Class: 13 (+1 Dex, +2 Defense Option), Touch 13, Flat-footed 12
Base Attack/Grapple: +1/+0
Attack: +1 Melee or +1 Melee (1d3
, fist) or +2 Ranged ()
Abilities:
Str: 10 (+0)
Dex: 12 (+1)
Con: 10 (+0)
Int: 12 (+1)
Wis: 16 (+3)
Cha: 18 (+4)
Saves:
Fortitude +1
Reflex +4
Will +6
Skills:
Bluff (Cha) 6/+10
Craft(songwriting)(Cha) 6/+10
Diplomacy (Cha) 6/+10
Intimidate (Cha) 6/+10
Gather Information (Cha) 6+10
Knowledge (Art) (Int) 2/+3
Sense Motive (Wis) 6/+9
Spot (Wis) 6/+9
Performance(Cha)6/+10
Listen(Wis) 6/+10
Drive(Dex) 6/+10
Feats:
Sharp-Eyed (of course 
)
Drive-by Attack
WP/Pistol
Money:
Equipment:
Languages: English
