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.”
Bob would definitely be a grand villain if he weren’t so small-time. But that’s just today; for the future he has ambition, and all of it’s bad. Bob is a con, a grifter, the “face” man. He’s the spitting image of a future televangelist: white suit, cuff links, excessively slicked-back hair. He could stand to lose a few pounds. He probably has some swamp land for sale, and his twinkling eye and convincing nod somehow make it seem like that might be a good idea.
He was raised on the streets, where a Baptist charity kept him fed and clothed. He made their cause his own. It was a long haul, pulling himself out of the gutter one short con at a time, but he was getting there. In fact he was well on the road to establishing his own cult when things took a turn. Bigamy charges. Fraud, they said. He grabbed the collection plate and ran. And kept running.
He owns a monowire garrote but doesn’t know how to use it. He saw it and it charmed him. “That weapon suits my style,” he thought, then he picked a few locks and liberated the device from its previous owner. That’s how he gets all of his possessions. He doesn’t feel the need to pay for things.
On the lam, he gets by because a lot of valuable things aren’t nailed down. Any corner is his pulpit. Any store is his larder. He haunts the roughest taverns where he can raise a dollar here and there with a game of cards. A few of the games are even honest.
Bob isn’t the guy you want for a stand-up fight. He’s got you covered if you need a drop of whiskey, a dagger in your back, a fake name, or a little dangerous powder mixed up and slipped into a plate of food. He’s a powerful enemy because he can talk the bark off a tree.
The problem is this: The money he saves is never enough. He’s got his eyes peeled for a big jump, a truly big jump that will turn his luck around. Then he’ll be able to stop running.