Yellow Sign
Explorer
The Member Roster of the Starkweather-Moore Antarctic Expedition 1933
Starkweather-Moore Antarctic Expedition 1933: Roster
- Thread starter Yellow Sign
- Start date
The Member Roster of the Starkweather-Moore Antarctic Expedition 1933
KitanaVorr
First Post
Roxie Hart Rockefeller
Born Roxie Hart, the daughter of a local mob flunkie and his fling with a cigarette girl, she grew up surrounded by violence, sex, booze, and crime. She spent a great deal of time between both parents depending on who had time and who cared. One taught her about men, the other about guns.
Roxie sang her heart out at the local sleazy jazz clubs until one day her gent walked right in and swept her 18 yer old self into a life of money and hedonistic pleasure. Five years later, that marriage ended in the most spectacular murder trial of the 20's. The beautiful Roxie Hart Rockefeller accused of murdering her 80 year old husband for the dough.
Nicknamed the "Black Widow" even with her acquittal...plenty of motive they said, but no opportunity and unbelievable. They couldn't imagine this young woman would poison her husband, stab him five times and give him two shots in the head. Certainly not! The lovely lady did not testify in her defense and never speaks about the trial or the murder.
Pursued by her ever annoying stepchildren trying to wrangle her hard won inheritance, this expedition was a good way to be 'gone' for a while until her very expensive lawyers could wrap up the whole mess for her.
Her dead husband, Joseph Rockefeller, was financing this ridiculous expedition, him being a university trustee and all. Well the children's lawyers wouldn't expect her to go would they? And so the wily Roxie finagled her way into the expedition.
Dark Brown Hair with gold highlights
Green eyes
25 years old
5'7
Level 3
STR 14, DEX 16, CON 15, INT 11, WIS 14, CHA 18
Offensive Option
Weapon Proficiency: Pistols
Bab: +3
Fort: +3
Ref: +6
Will: +3
Sanity: 70
AC: 13
Init: +3
HD: 3d6 + 6 = 18hp
XP: 3000
Profession: Jazz Musician 48 Skill Points (rank/total)
Class Skills
Bluff [cha] 6/10
Craft (Gunsmith) [int] 2/2
Diplomacy [cha] 3/7
Innuendo [wis] 6/8
Knowledge (Art) [int] 1/1
Listen [wis] 6/8
Performance (singing) [cha] 3/7
Sense Motive [wis] 6/8
Spot [wis] 3/5
Sleight of Hand [dex] 5/10
Escape Artist [dex] 4/9
Performance (dancing) [cha] 3/7
Cross-Class Skills: None
1st Level Feat: Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot
3rd Level Feat: Nimble
Equipment
Switchblade
ColtM1911 Pistol
Winchester M1897 Shotgun
Rifle Case, Soft
Pistol Holster w/flap
Multigun cleaning kit w/oil
Ammunition for guns
White faux fur coat + all the clothing accessories for a wealthy woman
grammophone w/ records
cigarettes + lighter
etc...
Born Roxie Hart, the daughter of a local mob flunkie and his fling with a cigarette girl, she grew up surrounded by violence, sex, booze, and crime. She spent a great deal of time between both parents depending on who had time and who cared. One taught her about men, the other about guns.
Roxie sang her heart out at the local sleazy jazz clubs until one day her gent walked right in and swept her 18 yer old self into a life of money and hedonistic pleasure. Five years later, that marriage ended in the most spectacular murder trial of the 20's. The beautiful Roxie Hart Rockefeller accused of murdering her 80 year old husband for the dough.
Nicknamed the "Black Widow" even with her acquittal...plenty of motive they said, but no opportunity and unbelievable. They couldn't imagine this young woman would poison her husband, stab him five times and give him two shots in the head. Certainly not! The lovely lady did not testify in her defense and never speaks about the trial or the murder.
Pursued by her ever annoying stepchildren trying to wrangle her hard won inheritance, this expedition was a good way to be 'gone' for a while until her very expensive lawyers could wrap up the whole mess for her.
Her dead husband, Joseph Rockefeller, was financing this ridiculous expedition, him being a university trustee and all. Well the children's lawyers wouldn't expect her to go would they? And so the wily Roxie finagled her way into the expedition.
Dark Brown Hair with gold highlights
Green eyes
25 years old
5'7
Level 3
STR 14, DEX 16, CON 15, INT 11, WIS 14, CHA 18
Offensive Option
Weapon Proficiency: Pistols
Bab: +3
Fort: +3
Ref: +6
Will: +3
Sanity: 70
AC: 13
Init: +3
HD: 3d6 + 6 = 18hp
XP: 3000
Profession: Jazz Musician 48 Skill Points (rank/total)
Class Skills
Bluff [cha] 6/10
Craft (Gunsmith) [int] 2/2
Diplomacy [cha] 3/7
Innuendo [wis] 6/8
Knowledge (Art) [int] 1/1
Listen [wis] 6/8
Performance (singing) [cha] 3/7
Sense Motive [wis] 6/8
Spot [wis] 3/5
Sleight of Hand [dex] 5/10
Escape Artist [dex] 4/9
Performance (dancing) [cha] 3/7
Cross-Class Skills: None
1st Level Feat: Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot
3rd Level Feat: Nimble
Equipment
Switchblade
ColtM1911 Pistol
Winchester M1897 Shotgun
Rifle Case, Soft
Pistol Holster w/flap
Multigun cleaning kit w/oil
Ammunition for guns
White faux fur coat + all the clothing accessories for a wealthy woman
grammophone w/ records
cigarettes + lighter
etc...
Attachments
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The Forsaken One
Explorer
Gerard Moore
Male Human - Archeologist Offensive Option
Medium-size humanoid
HD: 3d6 +3 (18hp)
Init: +2
Speed: 30ft
AC: 12 (+2 dex)
Attacks: +5 Ranged, +5 Melee
Damage: -
Saves: Fort: +4, Ref: +5, Will +3
Abilities: Str 15, Dex 15, Con 13, Int 17, Wis 15, Cha 11
Skills: Appraise +9, Climb +8, Knowledge(archaeology) +9, Knowledge(history) +9, Knowledge(paleontology) +9, Search +12, Speak Other Language (Egyptian Hieroglyphs) +5, Knowledge (Occult) +5, Spot +8, Pilot +5, Wilderness Lore +3, Disable Device +9, Open Lock +8, Speak Other Language (Latin) +5, Speak Other Language (Greek) +5
Feats: Track, Skill Emphasis (Search), Lightning Reflexes
Appearance: Age 32, height 6'0", 162 lbs
Languages: English, Greek, Latin, Egyptian Hieroglyphs
Sanity: 75
Equipment: -
Background: Synopsis for now; Gerard Moore is a Temple Raider, an ancient ruin scavenger who seeks old and valueable stuff to sell... He's develloped an interest in the occult and the unexplainable. This is due to some things he recovered from a digging site in Nepal but which he couldn't explain or figure out. The locals freaked out when they saw it but refused to talk and they all left their village by the hundreds never to return to that place to the mountain... now some old tomes and scrolls Gerard found at the Miskatonic University Library has caused him to believe that more pieces of the puzzel are to be found in the southern frozen hells of Antarctica. (I'll clean up and complete this when I have time, first update all my games and games in which I play
)
Male Human - Archeologist Offensive Option
Medium-size humanoid
HD: 3d6 +3 (18hp)
Init: +2
Speed: 30ft
AC: 12 (+2 dex)
Attacks: +5 Ranged, +5 Melee
Damage: -
Saves: Fort: +4, Ref: +5, Will +3
Abilities: Str 15, Dex 15, Con 13, Int 17, Wis 15, Cha 11
Skills: Appraise +9, Climb +8, Knowledge(archaeology) +9, Knowledge(history) +9, Knowledge(paleontology) +9, Search +12, Speak Other Language (Egyptian Hieroglyphs) +5, Knowledge (Occult) +5, Spot +8, Pilot +5, Wilderness Lore +3, Disable Device +9, Open Lock +8, Speak Other Language (Latin) +5, Speak Other Language (Greek) +5
Feats: Track, Skill Emphasis (Search), Lightning Reflexes
Appearance: Age 32, height 6'0", 162 lbs
Languages: English, Greek, Latin, Egyptian Hieroglyphs
Sanity: 75
Equipment: -
Background: Synopsis for now; Gerard Moore is a Temple Raider, an ancient ruin scavenger who seeks old and valueable stuff to sell... He's develloped an interest in the occult and the unexplainable. This is due to some things he recovered from a digging site in Nepal but which he couldn't explain or figure out. The locals freaked out when they saw it but refused to talk and they all left their village by the hundreds never to return to that place to the mountain... now some old tomes and scrolls Gerard found at the Miskatonic University Library has caused him to believe that more pieces of the puzzel are to be found in the southern frozen hells of Antarctica. (I'll clean up and complete this when I have time, first update all my games and games in which I play
)
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Byrons_Ghost
First Post
(Above is a younger picture of the character, taken dockside on the Ivory Coast in 1925)
Name: Richard Lawton
Occupation: Journalist
Character path: Offensive
Level: 3
Str 12
Dex 10
Con 15
Int 16
Wis 11
Chr 15
HP: 21
AC: 10
BAB: +3
Fort: +5
Ref: +1
Will: +1
Sanity: 55
Initiative: +0
Skills (66 points)
Climb 5 + 1 STR = +6
Craft (photography) 4 + 3 INT = +7
Craft (writing) 5 + 3 INT = +8
Diplomacy 4 + 2 CHA = +6
Gather Information 4 + 2 CHA = +6
Knowledge (geology) 3 + 3 INT = +6
Knowledge (history) 3 + 3 INT = +6
Research 3 + 3 INT = +6
Sense Motive 5 + 0 WIS = +5
Speak Other Language (French) 4 + 3 INT = +7
Speak Other Language (German) 3 + 3 INT = +6
Wilderness Lore 5 + 0 WIS = +5
Cross-class skills:
Craft (Radio Operation) 2 + 3 INT = +5
Heal 3 + 0 WIS = +3
Pilot (small aircraft) 3 + 0 DEX = +3
Repair 1 + 3 INT = +4
Feats:
Weapon Proficiency (rifle)
Weapon Proficiency (pistol)
Track
Point Blank Shot
Equipment:
utility knife $2.00
leather aviator's jacket $4.50
pocket watch $15.00
Cashmere dress suit, $20.00
Fedora, $10.00
2 Decks of cards, $1.50
Handheld camera, $17.00
100 film cartridges, $50.00
photo lab equipment, $20.00
zippo lighter $0.35
first aid kit $2.57
canteen $1.69
rucksack $5.45
2-person tent $11.25
bedroll $2.79
ground cloth $1.79
survival blanket $3.79
flashlight $3.10
12 batteries $3.60
compass $2.45
50 ft. rope $1.80
suitcase $9.95
binoculars $28.00
tablets & pencils $1.00
Model A Ford (will get left at home), $1,000 (?)
Weapons:
P08 Luger pistol, +3 to hit, dam 1d10/x3, cap 8, range 20, $30.00
Lee Enfield rifle w/scope, +3 to hit, dam 2d10/x3, cap 10, range 20, $60.00
5 stripper clips, $1
100 9 mm Luger rounds, $15.00
100 .303 rifle rounds, $9.00
Yearly income: $2,000
Starting savings: $2,500
Background:
Now approaching his mid-thirties, Richard has already lived and travelled more than most people ever will. He was born in New York in 1900 (with the new century, as he likes to say), his father was a successful stockbroker and his parents were well-stationed in society. Richard attended private schools in New York City, but left before college to become an American pilot in World War I. While barely old enough to fight, he was able to slip into the exclusive program at a young age thanks to a highly-placed uncle in the military. After the war, he stayed in Europe to travel and study at the universities there, but never managed to stay put long enough to get a degree. In 1923 he left for Africa on an extended safari and exploration voyage; the letters and articles he sent to various family members and magazines were well-received, and upon finally returning to New York in 1927 he found that he had some minor literary standing. He has since published two books. The first, Sunset in the Savannah, was a more complete (and dramatized) account of his travels in Africa, and was published in 1928. He followed it up in 1929 with a novel about the post-war Paris artistic set entitled Beginnings and Endings, which was favorably compared to Hemmingway's The Sun Also Rises.
However, bad luck has recently come to Richard. He family suffered great financial losses during the crash of 1929, and his father had a nervous breakdown shortly afterwards and was forced to retire. Richard's parents now live in a smaller house in a New Jersey suburb and try to get by as best they can. Richard found that the loss of social status closed many doors which had previously been opened. In order to keep writing and to help support his parents, he was forced to take a "regular" job as a freelance journalist for Life magazine in 1930. His tenure there has been well-received, especially since his experience and attitude led him to spots that would normally be deemed to dangerous for coverage.
When he heard about the Starkweather-Moore expedition, he immediately decided that this was what he needed to get back in the red. He talked his editors into giving him an extended sabbatical, the deal being that the magazine would publish photos and reports sent back during the expedition, and then Richard would get sole rights to a future book based on his experiences. He was therefore able to present himself to the expedition leaders as an official Life Magazine correspondent, and also offered to help with other publicity tasks. This, combined with his general knowledge of travel, mountineering, and piloting, served to guarentee him a spot on the team. Richard is quite excited about the expedition, seeing it as his big break.
This is the final version
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Fanog
First Post
Antonie Louwman
Background
Antonie was born in the wealthy Dutch family Louwman during the 80’s of last century. From as early age, he was expected to eventually run the family business, besides his older brother Victor. However, the sheltered life and position below his brother did not appeal to him at all, he rebelled against it from early on, but could not break not break free from his powerful family and its demands.
When the Great War began, Antonie saw an opportunity to escape. He went south and enrolled in the French army, despite the family’s threat to disown him if he did so.
Antonie was very ambitious then, determined to make it on his own. His dreams came true when he was selected as a fighter pilot. However, after only two months, he was in a terrible place crash, which nearly killed him. Even after recuperation, he had very little control over his legs, force to move in a wheelchair. He could not fight anymore, but the army still needed him. He was trained as a field medic, and resented every minute of it. Still, he had nowhere else to go and would not quit. For four long years, he followed the army, treating soldiers from injury and poisoning. He had no love or passion for his work, and the misery of it all eventually broke him.
After the war, Antonie’s injuries had mostly healed, but he was unable to return to his homeland. He fled to the US without money or purpose. For years, he travelled through the country, hoping to find a purpose to his life. After many years of wandering, Antonie gave up and settled in New York City. He lived there for some years, going from one unfullfilling job to the other. Eight years ago, he got a job with Joseph Rockefeller, who hired him as chauffeur, and eventually he also became his bodyguard and personal assistant. After his death, Antonie kept his job, but now worked for Mrs. Roxie Hart Rockefeller.
Antonie has practically given up on life. He gambled by joining the army, and feels that he has lost. Lost badly and never recovered. He suffers from very low self-esteem, but it doesn’t show too much; he’s beyond that. He’s smart and performs his job with uncaring routine. At times, he can be brooding, thinking about the manner in which his life has been an utter failure. These periods are usually accompanied by alcoholism.
But, there is a light in Antonie’s life. As he hears of the Antarctic Expedition and Mrs. Hart Rockefeller’s plans to join, Antonie’s early dreams once more come to memory, and he decides to make a grab for glory for the last time. His years start to count and this will probably be the last chance he’ll ever get. He is quite motivated to go on the expedition, and will do whatever it takes to bring it to a succesful end, to finally make an achievement and have revenge on his family, to earn the respect that he so badly needs.
Antonie Louwman, driver/bodyguard, Offensive. Level 3.
Age 53. Height 6'3'', Weight 182 lbs. Dark-brown hair, brown-green eyes
Str 13, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 18, Wis 12, Cha 8.
AC 11, BAB: +3, Init +1, hp 21
SV Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +2
Sanity 70
Skills (rank, ability) +total
Disable Device (4, Int) +8
Drive (4, Dex) +5
Heal (6, Wis) +10
Intimidate (6, Str) +7
Operate Heavy Machinery (3, Dex) +4
Pilot (2, Dex) +3
Repair (6, Int) +10
Search (6, Int) +10
Sense Motive (3, Wis) +4
Speak Language: English (4, Int) +8
Speak Language: French (4, Int) +8
Spot (6, Wis) +7
*Diplomacy (2, Cha) +1
*Handle Animal (2, Cha) +1
*Knowledge: Finance (3, Int) +7
*Listen (2, Wis) +3
Feats:
Martial Artist (Brawling)
Weapon Proficiency (melee)
Weapon Proficiency (pistol)
Skill Emphasis (Heal)
Equipment
plain suit (dark gray, well-cut)
Smith & Wesson M1917 revolver (in shoulder holster)
knife (strapped to lower leg)
pocket watch
cigarettes and lighter
Background
Antonie was born in the wealthy Dutch family Louwman during the 80’s of last century. From as early age, he was expected to eventually run the family business, besides his older brother Victor. However, the sheltered life and position below his brother did not appeal to him at all, he rebelled against it from early on, but could not break not break free from his powerful family and its demands.
When the Great War began, Antonie saw an opportunity to escape. He went south and enrolled in the French army, despite the family’s threat to disown him if he did so.
Antonie was very ambitious then, determined to make it on his own. His dreams came true when he was selected as a fighter pilot. However, after only two months, he was in a terrible place crash, which nearly killed him. Even after recuperation, he had very little control over his legs, force to move in a wheelchair. He could not fight anymore, but the army still needed him. He was trained as a field medic, and resented every minute of it. Still, he had nowhere else to go and would not quit. For four long years, he followed the army, treating soldiers from injury and poisoning. He had no love or passion for his work, and the misery of it all eventually broke him.
After the war, Antonie’s injuries had mostly healed, but he was unable to return to his homeland. He fled to the US without money or purpose. For years, he travelled through the country, hoping to find a purpose to his life. After many years of wandering, Antonie gave up and settled in New York City. He lived there for some years, going from one unfullfilling job to the other. Eight years ago, he got a job with Joseph Rockefeller, who hired him as chauffeur, and eventually he also became his bodyguard and personal assistant. After his death, Antonie kept his job, but now worked for Mrs. Roxie Hart Rockefeller.
Antonie has practically given up on life. He gambled by joining the army, and feels that he has lost. Lost badly and never recovered. He suffers from very low self-esteem, but it doesn’t show too much; he’s beyond that. He’s smart and performs his job with uncaring routine. At times, he can be brooding, thinking about the manner in which his life has been an utter failure. These periods are usually accompanied by alcoholism.
But, there is a light in Antonie’s life. As he hears of the Antarctic Expedition and Mrs. Hart Rockefeller’s plans to join, Antonie’s early dreams once more come to memory, and he decides to make a grab for glory for the last time. His years start to count and this will probably be the last chance he’ll ever get. He is quite motivated to go on the expedition, and will do whatever it takes to bring it to a succesful end, to finally make an achievement and have revenge on his family, to earn the respect that he so badly needs.
Antonie Louwman, driver/bodyguard, Offensive. Level 3.
Age 53. Height 6'3'', Weight 182 lbs. Dark-brown hair, brown-green eyes
Str 13, Dex 13, Con 14, Int 18, Wis 12, Cha 8.
AC 11, BAB: +3, Init +1, hp 21
SV Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +2
Sanity 70
Skills (rank, ability) +total
Disable Device (4, Int) +8
Drive (4, Dex) +5
Heal (6, Wis) +10
Intimidate (6, Str) +7
Operate Heavy Machinery (3, Dex) +4
Pilot (2, Dex) +3
Repair (6, Int) +10
Search (6, Int) +10
Sense Motive (3, Wis) +4
Speak Language: English (4, Int) +8
Speak Language: French (4, Int) +8
Spot (6, Wis) +7
*Diplomacy (2, Cha) +1
*Handle Animal (2, Cha) +1
*Knowledge: Finance (3, Int) +7
*Listen (2, Wis) +3
Feats:
Martial Artist (Brawling)
Weapon Proficiency (melee)
Weapon Proficiency (pistol)
Skill Emphasis (Heal)
Equipment
plain suit (dark gray, well-cut)
Smith & Wesson M1917 revolver (in shoulder holster)
knife (strapped to lower leg)
pocket watch
cigarettes and lighter
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zombiedude
First Post
Razor John
John "Razor" Rayburn
Rayburn was an adventurer and explorer. He climbed mountains, was an experienced free diver, and had camped in or trekked through most jungles and forests around the world. He was gaining some reknown, and had even considered taking up hunting. People that knew him would have called him a thrillseeker or pioneer depending on their perspective. All Rayburn cared about was the amount of risk he was taking, he lived for danger.
One night, while doing some diving off of the South American coast while looking for a rare species of fish with some comrades, he opted to stay out on his boat when the others went to camp on shore. He stayed out for several more hours, until late into the night, before heading back.
He landed his craft about three miles from his camp, as he usually did. He liked the exercise and the chance to be alone with nature. About a half mile from his camp he heard terrible screams and gunshots. He raced to get to his companions, but when he arrived he found the camp in shambles, his friends dead, and for a moment he saw something, exactly what he cannot recall. All he can remember is that he drew his knife and began swinging wildly. Whether this saved him, or the thing simply ignored him he does not know.
Since that night Razor John has not slept. He has tried, but then the nightmares start, and he awakes screaming soaked in sweat. John cannot rest at all unless he has a blade in his hand. In fact, he can barely function at all unless he has a shiv of somekind on his person. When he can get away with it, John will carry upwards of 6 knives on him, and if he suspects danger he will conceal a katana under his over coat.
Since that night John has really delcined. He has squandered his family fortune to the point that since buying supplies for this expedition he is now completely broke, and in debt. John's former lifestyle may have masked a slight death wish, and now that he is so far gone he might even be suicidal, on an unconscious level. He's still to much of the "Upper Crust" mentality to consider killing himself. As it goes, he'd be happy to give up his old life for a good night's sleep.
Razor John has joined because he wants to get his old life back, at least that is what he wants to believe. Truth is he is called to go, and he feels a kinship for what happened to the first expedition.
John is 28, is 5' 11", and weighs 140 lbs. His hair is deep black, except by his ears which is a stark white. He always looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes, complete with the bloodshot stare. His hair rarely stays combed for long and his clothes are always ruffled.
Str 17
Dex 15
Con 14
Int 13
Wis 15
Chr 11
HP: 21
AC: 13
BAB: +1
Fort: 5
Ref: 4
Will: 6
Sanity: 73
Initiative: +2
Skills
Balance (Dex) 5/+3
Climb (Str) 6/+5
Hide (Dex) 4/+3
Jump (Str) 6/+5
Listen (Wis) 3/+3
Move Silently (Dex) 6/+3
Search (Int) 5/+1
Spot (Wis) 4/+3
Use Rope (Dex) 5/+3
Wilderness Lore (Wis) 10
Lang: English
Feats:
Weapon Proficiency: Melee Weapons
Track
Athletic (+2 to Climb and Swim Checks)
Weapons and Equipment:
2 Bowie Knives
1 switchblade
1 Katana
50 feet of rope
10 foot pole
Snow shoes
Artic clothing/coat
Googles
Ski Mask
Lined-Leather gloves
Binoculars
climbing equipment (pitons, pick, cord, etc)
Compass
I dropped 2 points from his San for his seeing "Something". I rolled a d6 3 times and got a 2, 1, and 2 so that's what I went with. If you think it needs to be more just say so. I'll edit and add more tonight.
Additionally, I just want you all to know that what Rayburn thinks happened in SA and what really happened are 2 different things. His companions did vanish, and he did survive, but how things went down are entirely a different matter. I hope to make him "remember" the truth as he loses his SAN.
John "Razor" Rayburn
Rayburn was an adventurer and explorer. He climbed mountains, was an experienced free diver, and had camped in or trekked through most jungles and forests around the world. He was gaining some reknown, and had even considered taking up hunting. People that knew him would have called him a thrillseeker or pioneer depending on their perspective. All Rayburn cared about was the amount of risk he was taking, he lived for danger.
One night, while doing some diving off of the South American coast while looking for a rare species of fish with some comrades, he opted to stay out on his boat when the others went to camp on shore. He stayed out for several more hours, until late into the night, before heading back.
He landed his craft about three miles from his camp, as he usually did. He liked the exercise and the chance to be alone with nature. About a half mile from his camp he heard terrible screams and gunshots. He raced to get to his companions, but when he arrived he found the camp in shambles, his friends dead, and for a moment he saw something, exactly what he cannot recall. All he can remember is that he drew his knife and began swinging wildly. Whether this saved him, or the thing simply ignored him he does not know.
Since that night Razor John has not slept. He has tried, but then the nightmares start, and he awakes screaming soaked in sweat. John cannot rest at all unless he has a blade in his hand. In fact, he can barely function at all unless he has a shiv of somekind on his person. When he can get away with it, John will carry upwards of 6 knives on him, and if he suspects danger he will conceal a katana under his over coat.
Since that night John has really delcined. He has squandered his family fortune to the point that since buying supplies for this expedition he is now completely broke, and in debt. John's former lifestyle may have masked a slight death wish, and now that he is so far gone he might even be suicidal, on an unconscious level. He's still to much of the "Upper Crust" mentality to consider killing himself. As it goes, he'd be happy to give up his old life for a good night's sleep.
Razor John has joined because he wants to get his old life back, at least that is what he wants to believe. Truth is he is called to go, and he feels a kinship for what happened to the first expedition.
John is 28, is 5' 11", and weighs 140 lbs. His hair is deep black, except by his ears which is a stark white. He always looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes, complete with the bloodshot stare. His hair rarely stays combed for long and his clothes are always ruffled.
Str 17
Dex 15
Con 14
Int 13
Wis 15
Chr 11
HP: 21
AC: 13
BAB: +1
Fort: 5
Ref: 4
Will: 6
Sanity: 73
Initiative: +2
Skills
Balance (Dex) 5/+3
Climb (Str) 6/+5
Hide (Dex) 4/+3
Jump (Str) 6/+5
Listen (Wis) 3/+3
Move Silently (Dex) 6/+3
Search (Int) 5/+1
Spot (Wis) 4/+3
Use Rope (Dex) 5/+3
Wilderness Lore (Wis) 10
Lang: English
Feats:
Weapon Proficiency: Melee Weapons
Track
Athletic (+2 to Climb and Swim Checks)
Weapons and Equipment:
2 Bowie Knives
1 switchblade
1 Katana
50 feet of rope
10 foot pole
Snow shoes
Artic clothing/coat
Googles
Ski Mask
Lined-Leather gloves
Binoculars
climbing equipment (pitons, pick, cord, etc)
Compass
I dropped 2 points from his San for his seeing "Something". I rolled a d6 3 times and got a 2, 1, and 2 so that's what I went with. If you think it needs to be more just say so. I'll edit and add more tonight.
Additionally, I just want you all to know that what Rayburn thinks happened in SA and what really happened are 2 different things. His companions did vanish, and he did survive, but how things went down are entirely a different matter. I hope to make him "remember" the truth as he loses his SAN.
Attachments
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VorpalBunny
Explorer
Thatcher Colt: Male 3rd-Level Offense Option; HD 3d6+9; hp 21; Init +3; Spd 30 ft.; AC 13, touch 13, flat-footed 10 (+3 Dex); BAB +3; Grap +5; Atk +5 melee (1d3+2 subdual, unarmed strike), +6 ranged (2d8/x3, M1917 revolver), +6 ranged (2d10/x3, Enfield Mk III rifle); SV Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +3; Str 15, Dex 17, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 13; SAN 70.
Occupation: Pilot/Soldier of Fortune
Skills & Feats (Total/Ranks): Climb +6/4, Drive +6/3, Hide +7/4, Jump +5/3, Listen +9/5, Move Silently +7/4, Pilot (small aircraft) +8/5, Speak Other Language (French) +4/4, Spot +10/6, Swim +6/4, Use Rope +5/2, Wilderness Lore +6/4; Alertness, Dodge, Weapon Proficiency (pistol), Weapon Proficiency (rifle)
Equipment: Smith & Wesson M1917 revolver w/50 rounds, Lee-Enfield Mk III rifle w/50 rounds, backpack, jeweled compass, cheap wristwatch
Funds: $2,000 in savings, $1,000 annually.
Thatcher Colt rose to the rank of Flying Officer in the Royal Air Force during WWI. He was honorably discharged after the war, but did not want to go back to Birmingham and a factory job - the thrill he felt dog-fighting with Germans over France wouldn't let him. After the war, he sold his services as a pilot/explorer/adventurer to most anyone that could pay up front, and some that couldn't if the prospect for adventure and riches was high enough.
Thatcher presents himself as a genial, well-to-do Briton, trying his best to masquerade his blue-collar upbringing in Birmingham - something that was looked down upon by his flying mates in the RAF. Sometimes he is successful, other times his love of a pub, a pint, and a good football game allow his adventuring mates to see through his deception. He is reserved at first, but warms up to people rather quickly.
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anonystu
J'Accuse PirateCat!
12/20/32 7:00pm
I have, by my estimation, spent a good one-third of my adult life staring over other people's shoulders, standing prim, at attention, and not making a sound. I've always justified in it the past, that while I haven't been the one to actually do anything, I've got to see and help with a large amount of interesting and important things, and that should be good enough.
It's not, and the professor has suggested that I think about where I came from, to understand where my satisifaction with the life I'm leaving behind was formed, and understand what conditions have caused me to go in the direction I'm going in now.
I was born on the outskirts of Boston in 1899, my father, John, a prominent lawyer, and my mother, Louise, a, well, housewife, as nearly all the women in our social group were. My mother went to Radcliffe, and was very interested in biology, but decided not to pursue that, because there was little opportunity, and my father came along at what was considered the proper time.
I'm the youngest of three, and my two older brothers, Martin and Douglas, quickly followed in their father's footsteps in becoming lawyers, and are now associates in my father's firm. We haven't spoken much since I've joined the professor.
I was tutored, both by my mother, and a family friend, for most of the my youth. I surprised everyone by not going to Radcliffe, but instead, entering a nursing school. I didn't see the point of going to an academic school if you weren't expected to go anywhere after that, and nursing seemed interesting to me. Getting through school wasn't a problem, and my father's connections easily secured me a job in the largest hospital in Boston.
Work was tiring and repetitive, as described above, and while I did learn quite a lot about medicine, and also how to take care and comfort patients. After an argument with a doctor about what treatment to give a patient (I still think I was right, but it didn't really matter), I was reassigned to the psychiatric ward, as sort of a punishment.
I didn't see it as that as all: the doctors spent less time with the patients, and were more willing to just have their nurses do all the work. This was fine by me. The job was even more stressful, as some of the things I heard were beyond the pale, and still haunt my dreams to this day, but I got more satisifaction out of it, as I was able to make some decisions on my own. Still, though, I was always frustrated by what was recommended by the doctors: none of it ever seemed to work.
After one particularly bad day, in which one of our patients who we thought was recovering suddenly snapped and attacked me (luckily, the guards were nearby), I went for a walk around Boston, and ended up near Harvard. There were a few questioning looks about a woman walking so late alone, but I was left alone with my shaken thoughts. I picked up the Harvard Crimson, the local paper, sat down on a bench, and read it. It was all about Harvard, which was profoundly uninteresting, but in the back, there was an advertisement that a graduate student needed an assistant to help with psychological experiments. I resolved to go the next day.
The graduate student was quite surprised to see a woman walk in the next day: he had intended for this to be a position for undergraduates, but I explained my background, and kind of pleaded a bit, and luckily, he said I could help. He explained that his name was Burrhus Frederic Skinner, and he was doing some experiments with rats, and training. I quit my job at the hospital that day, and for the last three years, I've been having an amazing time, learning under the now professor. I should wish to detail some of his experiments for this record sometime, but it would take far too long to discuss the import. Let it just be said the he and I are both convinced that the proper way to look at people's psyches is not to understand their parents, but rather to understand their environment, what stimuli were given, and what rewards and punishments were handed down, and from there, you will learn all you need to know about a person.
The professor has been very kind, in both explaining his opinions and asking my own, and I have been very helpful in keeping the rats that he experiments on well cared-for, and not subjecting them to any undue outside stimuli, but still, both of us admitted that there was very little I could do in the field: all of the major schools, let alone journals, would hardly accept a woman, especially with ideas so far out of the norm. I allowed myself to be saddened by these prospects, and that also, when he left the school, I would be out of this entirely. It was the professor who came up with the amazing idea to join the Starkweather-Moore expedition to Antarctica, which scared me for quite a while, but he kept insisting that this would be a wonderful opportunity, not only for myself, but for psychology in general, to keep track of and study how such an adverse environment affects people.
I don't know quite how he secured a position for me on the group: he said he knew someone who was organizing, and wrote such a strong letter of recommendation that it made me blush, but I also think that he gave away some of his money to purchase a position. I will be forever indebted to him for this. I've read all I can over the past few months of what is known about Antarctica, and the previous expedition. Their disappearance is most troubling, and both of us agreed that it is quite risky to go, but it is something I cannot pass up: if we succeed, then I cannot be stuck in the box that was made for me when I was born.
I will write soon again, as I have received information about all the people who will be joining us on this expedition, and they seem a quite diverse group, but, I have agreed with Professor Skinner to help finish this round of experiments, and so I must be in early to take care of the animals.
-- Rachel Paulos
~
Rachel Paulos, Human, Defensive Psychologist 3
CR 3; Medium Humanoid; 5'x5'/5';
HD 3d6+3; hp 15;
Init +0; Spd 30 ft/x4;
AC 10;
Atk +0 One-handed (1d3-1 S, Unarmed Strike);
SV Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +5, San 75;
Str 9(-1), Dex 11(+0), Con 12(+1), Int 12(+1), Wis 15(+2), Cha 15(+2);
Skills & Feats: Animal Empathy +7, Diplomacy +8, Handle Animal +9, Heal +13, Knowledge (medicine) +6, Knowledge (psychology) +6, Psychoanalysis +13, Research +4, Ride +2, Search +5, Sense Motive, +8, Spot +8.
Endurance, Skill Emphasis (Heal), Skill Emphasis (Psychoanalysis).
I have, by my estimation, spent a good one-third of my adult life staring over other people's shoulders, standing prim, at attention, and not making a sound. I've always justified in it the past, that while I haven't been the one to actually do anything, I've got to see and help with a large amount of interesting and important things, and that should be good enough.
It's not, and the professor has suggested that I think about where I came from, to understand where my satisifaction with the life I'm leaving behind was formed, and understand what conditions have caused me to go in the direction I'm going in now.
I was born on the outskirts of Boston in 1899, my father, John, a prominent lawyer, and my mother, Louise, a, well, housewife, as nearly all the women in our social group were. My mother went to Radcliffe, and was very interested in biology, but decided not to pursue that, because there was little opportunity, and my father came along at what was considered the proper time.
I'm the youngest of three, and my two older brothers, Martin and Douglas, quickly followed in their father's footsteps in becoming lawyers, and are now associates in my father's firm. We haven't spoken much since I've joined the professor.
I was tutored, both by my mother, and a family friend, for most of the my youth. I surprised everyone by not going to Radcliffe, but instead, entering a nursing school. I didn't see the point of going to an academic school if you weren't expected to go anywhere after that, and nursing seemed interesting to me. Getting through school wasn't a problem, and my father's connections easily secured me a job in the largest hospital in Boston.
Work was tiring and repetitive, as described above, and while I did learn quite a lot about medicine, and also how to take care and comfort patients. After an argument with a doctor about what treatment to give a patient (I still think I was right, but it didn't really matter), I was reassigned to the psychiatric ward, as sort of a punishment.
I didn't see it as that as all: the doctors spent less time with the patients, and were more willing to just have their nurses do all the work. This was fine by me. The job was even more stressful, as some of the things I heard were beyond the pale, and still haunt my dreams to this day, but I got more satisifaction out of it, as I was able to make some decisions on my own. Still, though, I was always frustrated by what was recommended by the doctors: none of it ever seemed to work.
After one particularly bad day, in which one of our patients who we thought was recovering suddenly snapped and attacked me (luckily, the guards were nearby), I went for a walk around Boston, and ended up near Harvard. There were a few questioning looks about a woman walking so late alone, but I was left alone with my shaken thoughts. I picked up the Harvard Crimson, the local paper, sat down on a bench, and read it. It was all about Harvard, which was profoundly uninteresting, but in the back, there was an advertisement that a graduate student needed an assistant to help with psychological experiments. I resolved to go the next day.
The graduate student was quite surprised to see a woman walk in the next day: he had intended for this to be a position for undergraduates, but I explained my background, and kind of pleaded a bit, and luckily, he said I could help. He explained that his name was Burrhus Frederic Skinner, and he was doing some experiments with rats, and training. I quit my job at the hospital that day, and for the last three years, I've been having an amazing time, learning under the now professor. I should wish to detail some of his experiments for this record sometime, but it would take far too long to discuss the import. Let it just be said the he and I are both convinced that the proper way to look at people's psyches is not to understand their parents, but rather to understand their environment, what stimuli were given, and what rewards and punishments were handed down, and from there, you will learn all you need to know about a person.
The professor has been very kind, in both explaining his opinions and asking my own, and I have been very helpful in keeping the rats that he experiments on well cared-for, and not subjecting them to any undue outside stimuli, but still, both of us admitted that there was very little I could do in the field: all of the major schools, let alone journals, would hardly accept a woman, especially with ideas so far out of the norm. I allowed myself to be saddened by these prospects, and that also, when he left the school, I would be out of this entirely. It was the professor who came up with the amazing idea to join the Starkweather-Moore expedition to Antarctica, which scared me for quite a while, but he kept insisting that this would be a wonderful opportunity, not only for myself, but for psychology in general, to keep track of and study how such an adverse environment affects people.
I don't know quite how he secured a position for me on the group: he said he knew someone who was organizing, and wrote such a strong letter of recommendation that it made me blush, but I also think that he gave away some of his money to purchase a position. I will be forever indebted to him for this. I've read all I can over the past few months of what is known about Antarctica, and the previous expedition. Their disappearance is most troubling, and both of us agreed that it is quite risky to go, but it is something I cannot pass up: if we succeed, then I cannot be stuck in the box that was made for me when I was born.
I will write soon again, as I have received information about all the people who will be joining us on this expedition, and they seem a quite diverse group, but, I have agreed with Professor Skinner to help finish this round of experiments, and so I must be in early to take care of the animals.
-- Rachel Paulos
~
Rachel Paulos, Human, Defensive Psychologist 3
CR 3; Medium Humanoid; 5'x5'/5';
HD 3d6+3; hp 15;
Init +0; Spd 30 ft/x4;
AC 10;
Atk +0 One-handed (1d3-1 S, Unarmed Strike);
SV Fort +4, Ref +1, Will +5, San 75;
Str 9(-1), Dex 11(+0), Con 12(+1), Int 12(+1), Wis 15(+2), Cha 15(+2);
Skills & Feats: Animal Empathy +7, Diplomacy +8, Handle Animal +9, Heal +13, Knowledge (medicine) +6, Knowledge (psychology) +6, Psychoanalysis +13, Research +4, Ride +2, Search +5, Sense Motive, +8, Spot +8.
Endurance, Skill Emphasis (Heal), Skill Emphasis (Psychoanalysis).
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Father Richard Steele
Jesuit Order
Age 35
5' 0" (crapy roll)
132 lbs
income- $2000/year
savings $4000
STR 14
DEX 17
CON 17
INT 15
WIS 13
CHR 14
INIT +3
AC 13
SAN 65
OFFENSIVE OPTION
BAB +3
FOR +6
REF +4
WIL +2
SKILLS rank/total
CORE
Concentration 3/6
Diplomacy 3/5
Knowledge Religion 6/8
Knowledge Geopyhsics 6/8
Knowledge Geology 6/8
Listen 3/4
Sense Motive 3/4
Speak other Lang 3/5
Spot 3/4
Wilderness lore 3/4
Tumble 3/6
Swim 3/5
NON CORE
Gather Information 2/4
Heal 3/4
Knowledge Occult 2.5/4.5
FEATS
Weapons Prof- Pistol
Quick Draw
Martial Artist
EQUIPMENT
Matches
Hand mirror
Gloves
Heavy Boots
Sturdy Watch
Sharp Knife
50' rope
Magnifying Glass
Flask of Whiskey, Water, Kerosene
Body Holster for revolvers and magazines
2 Colt M1917 revolvers
8 Filled Magazines
Heavy Black Hooded Cloak
Rosary Beads
Chained Crucifix
Small Bible
Flask of Holy Water
Will add background later today
Dallas
Jesuit Order
Age 35
5' 0" (crapy roll)
132 lbs
income- $2000/year
savings $4000
STR 14
DEX 17
CON 17
INT 15
WIS 13
CHR 14
INIT +3
AC 13
SAN 65
OFFENSIVE OPTION
BAB +3
FOR +6
REF +4
WIL +2
SKILLS rank/total
CORE
Concentration 3/6
Diplomacy 3/5
Knowledge Religion 6/8
Knowledge Geopyhsics 6/8
Knowledge Geology 6/8
Listen 3/4
Sense Motive 3/4
Speak other Lang 3/5
Spot 3/4
Wilderness lore 3/4
Tumble 3/6
Swim 3/5
NON CORE
Gather Information 2/4
Heal 3/4
Knowledge Occult 2.5/4.5
FEATS
Weapons Prof- Pistol
Quick Draw
Martial Artist
EQUIPMENT
Matches
Hand mirror
Gloves
Heavy Boots
Sturdy Watch
Sharp Knife
50' rope
Magnifying Glass
Flask of Whiskey, Water, Kerosene
Body Holster for revolvers and magazines
2 Colt M1917 revolvers
8 Filled Magazines
Heavy Black Hooded Cloak
Rosary Beads
Chained Crucifix
Small Bible
Flask of Holy Water
Will add background later today
Dallas
Last edited:
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