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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sorrow The Man Bear" data-source="post: 2571525" data-attributes="member: 25046">Sorry for being so silent guys, I see Blue in RL allot so I was just ran my few questions past him there. I'll come back later and fill in the few blanks and drop some more details in.[CODE][B]Name:[/B] Billy-Ray Bailey  [B]Class:[/B] Fast 3/Gunslinger 2[B]Occupation:[/B] Creative (Guitar Saint)[B]Gender:[/B] Male[B]Str:[/B] 9  -1    [B]Fort:[/B]+2    [B]Ref:[/B]+6    [B]Will:[/B]+6[B]Dex:[/B] 14 +2    [B]Spd:[/B]30'    [B]Init:[/B]+2    [B]DB:[/B]+5[B]Con:[/B] 12 +1    [B]Hp:[/B] 33    [B]Gra:[/B]+2    [B]AC:[/B]16[B]Int:[/B] 10  0    [B]Rep:[/B]+1    [B]Wth:[/B]     [B]BAB:[/B]+3[B]Wis:[/B] 16 +3[B]cha:[/B] 14 +2[B][U]Attacks[/U][/B]Colt Python: +6, 2d6, 20, 40ft, Bl, Semi-Auto,6 cyl, M, 3lbFolding Hunting Knife: +2(+5), 1d4-1, 19-20, P, 10ft, T, 1lbImprovised Thrown: +5, *, 20, 10ft, *, *,*[B][U]Class Features[/U][/B]Simple Weapon Prof.Close Combat ShotWeapon Focus: Colt Python[B][U]Talents[/U][/B]EvasionUncanny Dodge 1[B][U]Feats[/U][/B]Weapon FinessePersonal Firearms Prof.Point Blank ShotShot on the Run[B][U]Skills[/U][/B]Drive R4 Craft - Songwriting R6 Move Silently R8 Perform - Stringed R8 Repair R4 Slight of Hand R6 Spot R4 Tumble R8 [B][U]Equipment[/U][/B]*MW Colt Python .357-Custom gunbelt with holster, holding 50 shells, two speed loaders, -under barrel laser sightFolding Hunting KnifeMultipupose tool*Standard running equipment when we're out hunting.[/CODE]He laughs easily, and with a  thick Mid-west accent begins to speak, in a low and pleasantly gravelly voice.     “All right I know y'all read them interviews and well, lemme tell you the real story of my lifeat home, afore all this. Middle of Nowhere, America. All my life in a town with only three streetlights, ever'body knows ever'body. My Pa had a little farmstead 3 miles down a dirt road (tweren't really much of a  road) off the interstate. 16,000 acres of corn. I'll tell ya what, it was beautiful out there. Not much to do mind, for a young boy comin' into his own. But when I was eight years old, my daddy let me shoot one of his guns, and I was hooked. Most kids have an allowance of money, my daddy made mine an allowance of ammo. Seems that all I'd do, when I weren't fixin' up that old tractor, 'r any  the other chores need doin' on a workin' farm was shoot. It was just me, pa, my brother and two farmhands. Farmhands, hell, Rob and David were family.Ma died givin' birth to me, Lord rest her soul in Heaven. No friends to speak of really, Pa handled my education so I didn't go to school. Now don't you make faces, Pa was a brilliant man, been through college twice with high marks ta boot.I learned the truth on my 13th birthday. The truth about those miles and miles of corn. You'd see things, sometimes, when you were out there on your own. Outta the corner of yer eyes, movement. Something above or between the stalks on the very edges of your vision, just far enough away that you didn't believe it. The truth was, you weren't just seeing things, tricks of the lights and your eyes. There was a reasons Pa and the 'hands sealed the house up tight every night before sundown. There was always somebody awake, too. Usually in the attic, which was only half roofed, and had a door going out to the little balcony. Keepin' watch, I found out, eventually.We only went into town a couple of times a month, t'get some of the neccesities.The year I was 15, there was supposed to be a concert. Biggest rock show to hit the nearest football stadium.And I couldn't go. No money for the ticketsa, despite what I saved up. So I went anyway, rode my little dirt bike all they way over to the next town. Started pourin' rain soon as I got there too. And I will tell you, hearing that echoing, wailing guitar comin' through them concrete walls and the rain and the thunder and the lightnin'.... whooo-ee. It changed my life.I bought me a guitar next time I went into town. I ahd no udea what I was doin', and my "practicing" made all three of the hounds on the farm howl. But my brother Joey, and Pa too, he kept me doin it. He saw that I loved it. And it was real to me. I found out, that by playin' that music, all by my lonesome all night long on my watches, which i started doin' now that i was older, kept the thing sin the corn happy. Kept 'em away. And eventually, when I got good, and I mean, I could make the corn sing, they left. Never saw nothin' after. The farm felt, peaceful like. Too quiet. I left home come 20, with Pa's blessing, my guitar, and even Pa's gun which gave me. I found a litle place in the city, and started playin' on street corners. And... well, you done read the rest in Rolling Stone."</blockquote>

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