Boilerplate preface (feel free to skip to character description!): This character is another example in the a set of completed characters I’m posting for the Deeps of Lyrae campaign. I made them for my players, or my players made them.
I’ll refer to them later on if I post recaps, and I thought that other GMs might want them–you should be able to just offer them to new players as a menu of pre-made character options that will work well together.
I didn’t do my own templates for this campaign, so these characters are worked up from templates in the list of published templates I posted a little while ago. The character designs I’ll post were also designed in response to my required character creation prompt for this campaign, and they usually take into account my campaign advice for character creation.
To refresh your memory, the prompt is: “Your character is on a boring backwater planet and has a good reason to want to become a space pirate.”
Maybe you think people with a Doctor of Philosophy degree are effete? Maybe you haven’t met Bertor! A bad-ass giant with a bionic hand, he “relaxes” in his stateroom by practicing axe-throwing… with a full-sized pickaxe. He’s not bad tempered, but in a startown bar he might make a snap decision that the right thing to do is to punch someone in the face. And a punch from his 6’4″ frame will hurt.
He’s got a giant beard and a fearsome stare. You’ll see him wandering around the ship fussing with some new kind of detonator he’s been thinking about, or paging through his copy of “Shepperton’s Atlas of Well-Known Mines” on his tablet. Of course he’ll be wearing his battered demolition armor, as he almost never takes it off. The checkerboard of frayed mining company patches tells a tale of his many past successes.
He keeps his wealth in his strongbox of gems, and his rare rock collection in an even heavier box, as it’s just as valuable… to him. In his suitcase his tousled longjohns are mixed in with blocks of high explosive. Don’t call him a “demolitions expert,” although he is one. And don’t call him a “prospector.” (At least not to his face.) He doesn’t ask to be called “doctor” but he’ll often remind you that he’s a fully-accredited academic geologist. He’s more than ready to explain his own elaborate theories about rockball formation. He’s a member in good standing of the Maternal Order of the Celestial Geologists.
Years back, Bertor started hard as an indentured belter. He’s earned his current wealth, and paid for his education. He’s planning on keeping it, and he’s going to get more.