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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ShortAssassin" data-source="post: 1555516" data-attributes="member: 15345">William RobinsonMaster Sergeant of Her Majesty's Royal Fusilier Regiment, Gunner Height: 5'6"Weight: 150 lbsHair: BrownEyes: GreenAge: 37Profession: MilitaryLevel: Tough2 STR 12 +1DEX 14 +2CON 15 +2INT 13 +2WIS 10 +0CHA 8 -1 Hp: 22Ap: 11AC: 14BAB: +1Fort: +4Ref: +2Will: +2 SkillsR/W English (from a poor background, didn't know off the start)Survival +5Spot +5Knowledge: Tactics +5Demolitions +6 FeatsToughnessIron WillSimple Weapon Prof.Personal Firearms Prof. TalentsRemain Conscious Savings: £400Income: £200 EquipmentWebley MkI RevolverPocketknifeClothes on his backHip flask filled with rum BackgroundWilliam was raised in an orphanage in Bethnal Green. He never knew his parents and had a poor, hard life as a child in London's East end. He survived through quick wit and strength of arm. When he was 14, William signed up for the army. It could be said that he did it for the adventure, or for the modest pay, but all he really wanted was to have food in his belly and a warm place to sleep. He had no idea that these two ideals would come at intervals too far apart for his liking in the service of the army. He started his army service doing the things young men do in the army. He played drums, piped pipes and ran messages between officers. After a few years he was old enough to stand in the rank and file with the men, so he did so. He fought in campaigns through out Asia, mostly small skirmishes in India and such. By the time the second Afghan war had started, William was a corporal in the Fusiliers. He was offered a vocation change to artilleryman when most of a battery's men were wiped out in a vicious counter attack by Afghan forces. William had always been intrigued by the huge cannons belching death hundreds of yards away, so he gladly took the offer. Sour fate raised her ugly head into William's life once again a few months later. In the heat of battle the battery line was overrun and William's cannon exploded in the ensuing confusion. Most of William's crew was killed in the blast, but he was not so lucky. He survived the months in the field hospital that saw disease and death all too frequently and he still bears the scars of that fight now with quiet shame. After the Afghan war, William and most of his unit was shipped back home, where he spent the rest of his years doing peace time work and staying away from people. His full pension was paid up, so after twenty years in the army, he was honorably discharged. He still goes to the barracks now and again to tell tales of war and scare the wits out of new recruits. The last few years have seen William drift around London's poorer neighbourhoods, drinking and whoring and being sour on life in general. He has taken the occasional odd job here and there for something to do and a little extra coin. AppearanceWilliam is no longer a handsome man. He has heavy scar tissue over 30% of his body, running the length of his right side, from the crown of his head down to his feet. He is missing his right ear and the ring and pinky finger on his right hand. He talks in a quiet voice, and can be bitter and fatalistic. He dresses in concealing clothing that he can use to hide his appearance from a casual glance. Brimmed hats, upturned collars, gloves and the like.</blockquote>

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