| Full Name |
HP 9/9 - MP 12/12 - Sanity 60/60 - Spot Hidden 50% |
About Hieronymus "Ronny" Blakesmith
Name: Hieronymus "Ronny" Blakesmith
Occupation: Dilettante
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Residence: Manhattan, NY
Birthplace: Hampton Roads, VA
Hit Points: 9
Luck: 3d6x5
Sanity: 60
Magic Points: 12
Move Rate:
STR: 50 (25/10)
CON: 50 (25/10)
SIZ: 40 (20/8)
DEX: 70 (35/14)
APP: 80 (40/20)
EDU: 50 (25/10) (know: )
INT: 60 (30/12) (idea: )
POW: 60 (30/12)
CAREER SKILLS:
Accounting 40% (20/8)
Charm 70% (35/14)
Credit Rating 60% (30/12)
Fast Talk 50% (25/10)
Firearms 40% (20/8)
Language (Afrikaans) 50% (25/10)
Persuade 60% (30/12)
Pilot 40% (20/8)
Spot Hidden 50% (25/10)
PERSONAL INTEREST SKILLS:
Dodge 55% (27/11)
Drive Auto 40% (20/8)
First Aid 50% (25/10)
Survival 30% (15/6)
WEAPONS:
COMBAT:
GEAR/POSSESSIONS:
CASH/ASSETS:
BACKSTORY: Born the son of older parents, Ronny Blakesmith became the heir to their interest in the De Beers mining business (among other investments) when they passed away when he was 22. He's since taken an interest in the company, though mainly because he loves the allure of Africa and spending time in the southern African lands where De Beers operates its diamond mines. He lives mostly a life of casual leisure, though his family's extensive holdings sometimes draws him to other, stranger parts of the world.
Personal Weird History
"Ronnie" Blacksmith.
Your Uncle Abraham knew the bush as well as any man.
For fifty years he made a living as a guide, hunter, and scout. For decades he lived and worked all over the Transvaal and the Limpopo River Basin.
And of course there were stories. Stories of proud Zulu warriors, comic misadventures in camp, and epic hunts.
And when the campfire was dying down; there were ghost stories.
The serpentine Grootslang, the fiendish Tikoloshe, and grotesque were-leopards.
And then there were the 'eaters of the dead': abominable ghouls from the 'deep places of the earth' who feasted upon human flesh.
Your uncle's face would become grim and stern over his pipe when he spoke of these monsters.
And finally, when that time came that Uncle Abraham failed to return from the bush, and it fell upon you to organize his things, there was that skull you found in a closet of his small house. The University man you showed it too declared it was from a 'deformed hyena', but you noted that he was loath to touch it.
Shortly afterwards the skull disappeared, but you never stopped wondering about the stories that your uncle never dared tell.
