About Elizabeth Murphy
Female Half-Giant (Irish) Brawler 1
Age: 18
N Medium Humanoid (Human/Giant)
Init +6; Perception +4
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DEFENSE
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AC 12, touch 12, flat-footed 12 (+2 dex)
HP 13 (1d10+3)
Fort +5, Ref +4, Will +1
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OFFENSE
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee
Unarmed +4 1d8+3
Ranged
Large Shotgun +3 2d6
Large Revolver +4 2d6
Space 5 ft., Reach 5 ft.
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Brawler's Cunning
Martial Flexibility
Martial Training
Unarmed Strike
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STATISTICS
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Str 16, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 10, Wis 13, Cha 10
Base Atk +1; CMB +6 (+1 size, +1 trait); CMD 17
Traits:
Bred for War
Trigger Happy
Feats:
Improved initiative
Skills (4 Points):
Perception: +5 (1 rank, 3 class, 1 wis)
Profession(Cook): +5 (1 rank, 3 class, 1 wis)
Acrobatics: +6 (1 rank, 3 class, 2 dex)
Swim: +7 (1 rank, 3 class, 3 str)
Climb: +7 (1 rank, 3 class, 3 str)
Favored Class:
+1 skill
Racial Modifiers:
Hardy
Healthy
Lifebound
Powerful Build
Languages:
Giant, Common, Gaelic
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GEAR/POSSESSIONS
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Large Shotgun(140), Large Revolver(trait), Ranger's kit(9), Survival kit(5), Cooking kit (3), Fishing kit (.5), Cold Weather Outfit (8) 8x Pellet shells(1.6), 8x Bullet shells(1.6), 4x Salt shells(.8) 6 Revolver rounds(1.2)
Money: GP 3SP CP
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Appearance
"From birth I have been guilty of three crimes. Being a woman, being a giant, and being Irish."
Daughter of a Boston longshoreman, Elizabeth found herself never able to fit in, often literally, anywhere. The captains will pay good wages to giants, but the docks are no place for a woman they say. There is work in the houses for women, but the palaces of the well-to-do are no place for a giant. Clearly, Boston had no place for her, at least none that wasn't filled to bursting with redheaded children already.
When she was young her father went to fight in the war. There are uses for the man who can shift a cannon by himself. He finally returned, missing some fingers and covered in powder tattoos, but most whole for all of it, which is more than many can say. He sat the family down, told them all that happened, and declared the matter closed. "I will never speak of this again, nor will you ask of it."
But Bitty Beth never forgot. He had done things. Important things. The recruiters knocked on their door and asked for him. They didn't turn up their noses and wait at the edge of Jotunheim for someone to beg for work. They walked right in and talked about how the country needed him. Mr. Murphy from nowhere.
Now there are people talking about needs again. The west needs strong backs. The west needs courage. In the west you make your own place.
They weren't much for it, Mr and Mrs Murphy. How will you get by? I'm a decent cook and not afraid of work. What will we do without you? Give Sarah my place so there room for Joy when she comes. What if you get attacked? I think you might have something to help me with that Father...
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It's been a cold lonely walk to the fort. No horse would care for her weight, not that she could afford one anyway. The little attention she's been payed has generally ended with a double blast of rock salt from her father's '63 'Twin Cannon'.
