About Henry RichardsonHenry Richardson
Human Ranger 3
Coin 900gp
--------------------
-------------------- Light Horse (Combat-trained) Stats:
Light Combat-Trained Horse Male, Name: Tycho (pronounced TIE-KO) Size/Type: Large Animal Hit Dice: 27 hp (3d8+9) Initiative: +1 Speed: 60 ft. (12 squares)
Base Attack/Grapple: +2/+9 Attack: Hoof +4 melee (1d4+3)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./5 ft.
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 Abilities: Str 16, Dex 13, Con 17, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
-------------------- Backstory/Appearance
Henry Richardson is the younger son of a minor but wealthy Duke, James Richardson, and was raised in the English county of Yorkshire, in Northern England. His family name was an old one with ties to royalty somewhere in his great, great, great grandfather’s reign. His elder brother, Edward, was the apple of their father’s eye and would inherit the family estate and fortune upon their father’s death. Henry was a bright enough man and was educated in the best private boarding schools, however his headstrong philosophies and zealous actions and tactics had him expelled from numerous institutions or generally on the outer with his school mates. Henry preferred being outside than stuck inside classrooms and lecture theatres being talked down to by stuffy professors. Henry’s father grew irritated at his younger son’s antics and upon Henry’s latest faux pas in polite society, James Richardson concocted a plan to send his son abroad, to the American colonies, in order to sort the boy out and make a capable and less headstrong man out of him. Henry’s peculiar ideals and paranoia were unfavourable traits that James Richardson wanted removed from his younger son’s character. Upon his advisor’s suggestion (through various queries places abroad), James Richardson paid for Henry’s passage to America and had him delivered by horse to the small town of Devil’s Fork with a sizeable allowance and stern warning to make a good, worthwhile man of himself before ever returning to Yorkshire and the family. So, Henry found himself friendless and bitter from his banishment to the small and insignificant Devil’s Fork. Over the next three years, Henry strove to prove his father wrong, obsessively protecting the town from unwelcomed and unsavoury intruders. Henry was nimble on his feet and fast with a gun (weapon). Crime levels dropped under his vigilance, and, even though there was no official law enforcer in town, Henry had taken on the mantle and title without any formal or official swearing in. He was Devil Fork’s defacto Sheriff and none challenged him on it. The citizens respected him well enough although they gave his deep-seeded suspicious nature and constant paranoia a wide berth. The Englishman, with the swanky accent, seemed plagued by grand concerns and machinations others did not see or feel, and was fervent in his duty to patrol and protect. Origin of Richardson's paranoia/Supernatural element:
His father had sent him away to study at the University of Cambridge. He had hoped that Henry would knuckle down to a life of study and serious contemplation in an effort to mould his younger son into a fine gentleman with advantageous prospects. Henry understood the worth of knowledge, but was not interested in being sequestered in such a stuffy institution. One evening, he had been bored and restless, and snuck outside and into the stables. He found his mount and decided to ride into Cambridge proper, even though it was the dead of night. He came across what was once the grand Peterborough Cathedral. In 1643, during the English Civil War, the cathedral had been sorely vandalised, and now it stood, stained glass windows broken and monuments and memorials damaged and destroyed. From the looks of it, under that eye of a full silver moon, some repair work had begun but it was far from complete. Henry, intrigued by broken-down Cathedral, alighted from his horse and sought to find entrance into the building. Stepping lightly and carefully past the rubble and ruin, Henry surveyed the interior and was appalled by the destruction to the high altar. The war had not been kind to the old places and buildings. The air inside the church was bitterly cold, and Henry could see his breath misted before him. Shadows and darkness filled the once reverent place. Moonlight had filtered in through the broken windows to the side of the building. Henry looked up at the high rafters and the general stillness unnerved him in this place. He felt like a trespasser, even though in actuality he was one. Then something caught his eye, by the front of the altar. Henry peered through the darkness, relying on moonlight to aid his sight. There was someone there and he had not noticed. He squinted and strained his sight to make out the figure. It seemed transparent, which was folly for if it were a man or woman they would have a solid form. He took one step forward, drawing closer to the person. It seemed to turn its head and look his way, but where there would be eyes were only gaping spaces. The clothing was of an older period, but it was ragged and floating about him as if the wind had picked up yet the air was still outside. The vision pointed a gnarled finger at him as if warning, but Henry was transfixed to the spot. This was no person; it was transparent and seemed to float rather than step and make a heavy booted sound on the stone. It opened its mouth and Henry heard nothing at first but then it came; a sharp, piercing scream that echoed off the still-standing stone walls and stone floors. The hair on Henry's arms stood on end and he could barely take breath as the sound assailed him over and again. The apparition kept his finger pointed toward him and then began to hover forward, toward him. He finally found his senses and took a step back and then turned and ran from the old church. He ran to where he had tied his horse and vaulted onto the saddle. He pressed his legs into the horse's flanks and rode away from the Cathedral. A short distance away, he pulled his horse to a stop and glanced back. The figure stood outside the doors of the building with its finger still pointed in his direction. Henry felt another chill course through his veins and down his body; this was a foreboding or a deeper realisation. He had not believed in ghosts until that night. The veil had been parted between this world and the one beyond, and it had changed the young man more than he even realised that night. Henry began to look over his shoulder more often and listen harder to strange sounds and observe unusual occurrences and markings. There were other things at play and he was aware of them now. Henry promised he would not be caught unawares again. Thus, his paranoia had taken root deeply and wholly. Collected from the Hewitt house:
At Hewitt's house, Henry found and collected the following: 1 heavy crossbow (taken by Cole), 1 shortbow, 2 beartraps, 1 well-made powder rifle with silvered inlay and a polished brass grip (masterwork musket), personal documents and trinkets and a sum of 200gp. |
