Not exactly a huge deal to switch a post from one topic to another. Just edit the first, copy the text, then paste 'n post in the other thread.
Code:
[B]Name:[/B] Tom Merl
[B]Class(Level):[/B] Tough Hero(2)
[B]Character Level:[/B] 2
[B]Occupation:[/B] Rural
[B]Age:[/B] 23 [B]Eyes:[/B] Mud Brown
[B]Gender:[/B] Male [B]Hair:[/B] Dirty Blonde
[B]Height:[/B] 5' 11'' [B]Skin:[/B] Tan
[B]Weight:[/B] 205 lbs [B]Allegiances:[/B] None
[B]Str:[/B] 14(+2) [B]HP:[/B] 24/24
[B]Dex:[/B] 12(+1) [B]Defense:[/B] 13
[B]Con:[/B] 16(+3) [B]Init:[/B] +1
[B]Int:[/B] 10
[B]Wis:[/B] 14(+2) [B]Base Attack:[/B] +1
[B]Cha:[/B] 12(+1) [B]Speed:[/B] 30'
[B]Fort:[/B] +5 [B]Reputation:[/B] +0
[B]Refl:[/B] +1 [B]Action Points:[/B] 6
[B]Will:[/B] +2 [B]Wealth Bonus:[/B] +2
[B]Melee Attack:[/B] +3
[B]Ranged Attack:[/B] +2
[B]Permanent Class Skills:[/B] Handle Animal, Survival
[B]Class Features:[/B] Robust
[B]Feats:[/B] Endurance, Personal Firearms Proficiency,
Simple Weapons Proficiency, Track, Windfall
[B]Skills[/B] [B]Rank[/B] [B]Mod[/B] [B]Misc[/B] [B]Total[/B]
Climb(Str): 3 + 2 + 0 = 5
Handle Animal(Cha): 5 + 1 + 0 = 6
Profession(Wis): 2 + 2 + 1 = 5
Survival(Wis): 5 + 2 + 0 = 7
[B]Gear[/B]
Ford F-150 XL
- Winchester 94 inside Rifle Case
- Cooler with Six-Pack of Generic Beer
- Lotta Garbage
- Sleeping Bag
- Box of 20 .444 Caliber Shells
- Binoculars
- Flashlight
Background: Things haven't quite worked out how they were supposed to for Tom.
In theory, he was going to inherit a profitable and stable farm from his parents once they died. You know, years down the line, after Tom had a good, firm grasp of how things were taken care of in all aspects. And had plenty of time to screw around, of course.
In reality, his parents both died in a car crash four-odd years ago, leaving behind a farm crippled by poor choices and a changing economy. The fact that Tom had spent most of the time before his parents death either hunting, drunk, or out hunting while drunk assured that he barely had the skills to keep the farm limping along, nonetheless enough know-how to get it back up to it's glory days.
Not that Tom didn't try. The man worked himself ragged, called in every favor available, even tried his hand at replanting a couple of new, stable crops. 'Course, then came along that damned Atkins craze. Lousy time to have your fields full of wheat, let me tell you...
In the end, Tom's will just sort of sapped away. Each day he spent more and more time away from the farm, driving around aimlessly or shooting badly at anything luckless enough to cross his path. The farm is currently a month or two away from foreclosure, the livestock long since gone and the crops completely overrun with weeds and random animals.
Not that Tom cares any more. He's too full of self-pity and cheap beer to be thinking that clearly.
Appearance: The words "walking red-neck stereotype" spring to mind when one looks at Tom. In his own defense, a lot of his apperance these days can be attributed to the hardships he's gone through recently. After all, when your life is falling apart around you, it's more than a little difficult to find a good reason to pay attention to the little things. You know. Shaving. Haircuts. Clean clothes. And occasionally, to the dismay of those around him, showering.
On an average day, Tom can be seen stumbling about with an o' so witty "This is My Gun Cleanin' Hat" hat crammed down about his wild black hair, face fuzzy with a week's worth of beard. Clothing is usually a worn pair of jeans and whatever random monotone t-shirt he grabbed that morning.