Night's Black Song (Blacky) - Indian Brave
Quote: "Wait...I must ask the spirits for an answer...mumble, mumble, mumble..."
Background/Description: Night's Black Song (or Blacky as he is most often called) got his name because he was born on a night in which the moon was elclipsed from the sky. The tribal shaman charged with naming him viewed this as a bad sign, and prophesied that Blacky would come to no good. Despite this dire beginning, Blacky lived quite well for the first half of his life and his village lived peacefully and simply, having little contact with the "white man's world". He grew up steeped in the traditions of his people and believed strongly in their ways. He hoped to one day prove the shaman's prophecy wrong by becoming a shaman himself, though most of the members of his tribe knew he lacked the aptitude for it. Then one day the Sky Pirates came, and everything changed for Blacky.
A small group of the brigands, their minds bent on plunder and destruction fell from the sky and invaded the village. Many of the village died in the initial assault, but a few of the warriors were able to assemble a hasty defense. One of the warriors managed to score a lucky shot, nailing one of the pirates through the eye. His rig crashed to the group right in front of young Blacky. The flying rig's ghost rock battery burst open upon impact, dousing the young brave in supernatural radiation. While the indians managed to drive the remaining Pirates off, it became quickly obvious that all was not well with Blacky. As he lay upon the ground, his body began to mutate, taking on a dessicated appearance, his skin turning mottled and pale, stretching across the bones of his face. Led by the shaman that had named him, the surviving members of his village drove him out, thinking he had become a member of the walking dead. Blacky is now a hermit, wandering the wastes trying to stay far away from the trappings of the "modern world". Ever since his run in with the Sky Pirates he has developed an extreme fear of man-made flying machines, and has become quite mad (he is currently trying to teach himself how to be a shaman, and is always talking to the "spirits").
Blacky is an average sized man, though strong and very wiry of build. He has chalk white skin tinged green around his extremities that clings tightly to his bones and lean musculature, giving him a corpse like appearance. His bony features are constantly concealed beneath a black and white "death's head mask" of war paint. His long greasy black hair is held back beneath a moldy feathered head dress made from a variety of different birds. His only clothing is usually a loose fitting loin cloth and a pair of battered moccassins. His seclusion has not helped his social skills much. He tends to offend people very easily (by his speech, smell and appearance) and he tends to try and jump anything female that he comes across.
Post Mortem Note - Blacky died while facing down a trio of evil shaman spirits in the ruins of the fabeled lost city of Cibola, somewhere in southern Utah.
Corporeal: D:1d12, N: 3d12, S: 2d10, Q: 2d10, V: 4d8
Bow: 5, Throwin' Axe: 3, Climbin': 5, Dodge: 4, Fightin' Brawlin': 5, Axe: 5, Swimmin': 2
Mental: C: 3d10, K: 2d4, M: 4d6, S:: 1d4, Sp: 1d8
Scrutinize: 3, Search: 4, Trackin': 5, Academia Occult: 1, Overawe: 5, Scroungin': 3,
Survival Desert: 3, Faith: 1, Guts: 4
Edges: The Voice - Threatening(1), Keen(3), The Stare(1), Thick Skinned(3), Sense Direction(1),
Big Ears(1), Veteran(0) - Loco (fear of flying machines, -4)
Hindrances: Oath - Old Ways(5), Intolerance - Ravenites(2), Illiterate(3), Randy(3),
Mutation (black joker) - looks like rotting corpse: Ugly as Sin, Terror 7, take half wind from
wounds due to rubbery skin and cannot be stunned.
Wind: 16 Pace: 12
Gear: bow, quiver w/ 20 arrows, 3 tomahawks, big knife, big "battle axe", backpack, bedroll