thenucleus

Kent nods gratefully at Thompson's explanation. "Well it seems we have quite the mystery on our hands!" he claps, his face brightening. "Please continue, I won't pretend to know half of what is going on but I'm intrigued nonetheless!"   He is about to take a cigarette from his pocket, then remembers where he is and drops his hand.

Kent has been totally bewildered by the last few minutes. He has always been a man of the moment and has never given much consideration to how things work, or why things are the way they are. He knows the night sky well, and can tell most edible berries and plants from those that can kill a man, but that's about the extent of his knowledge or interest in scientific matters. He had hoped to have his mind blown by this visit to the lab, but he has just become more and more confused with each development.   "I'm sure it is very exciting!" he says, looking to Thompson but addressing the room in general. "But would you mind explaining to a pleb like me what on earth is going on?"

Kent has been totally bamboozled by a great deal of the jargon espoused by the academics here at the lab, and finds himself itching to see the device in action.   "So what do we expect to see here?" he asks. "What are we looking for exactly? Is it dangerous?"

Kent, having very little in his schedule to clear, decided to spend Monday evening carousing at several of the town's more exclusive clubs. Being a Monday, most were dead, but were happy to accept Kent's patronage and it was closer to dawn than dusk when he stumbled into bed.   This morning, the sunlight streaming in through his window hurt his eyes and he reluctantly changed out of last night's clothes into a new set before hastily mixing and glugging down a concoction of milk, raw egg and tomato juice.   He arrives at the lab rather weary and dry-throated, but the throb in his head is fading and the excitement of the investigation has helped to blow a few cobwebs away. "Well isn't this wonderful!" he marvels at the sight of the lab, eyeing some of the jars. "Lay it on us professor!"

"Steak please, burnt to a crisp. If I get even an inkling that that thing was ever alive I'll be sending it back." Kent smiles to show that he's being good natured about the whole thing but he's not kidding - he's never taken to having his food swimming in blood. For one thing, it ruins the vegetables.   He listens to the others suggest plans while he enjoys his cigarette and sips on his drink. Not the greatest, but when he thinks of some of the rubbish he threw down his neck in Africa, it's like nectar.   "All good suggestions, dear fellows. I think we should just approach things systematically, one by one, so that we can keep ourselves organised in making sense of this whole thing. Looking at this lump of rock seems like as good a place to start as any. Once we've been to the lab we can follow up on those other plans."   He takes another drink, the ice clanking together. "Seems like this might be fun!"

"I'll take one of those as well," chimes Kent, with a wink at the server. He has been here several times and is well versed in the etiquette of the place. Discretion is not his usual way, but whatever it takes...   He returns Tristan's handshake with a firm grip that lingers for a moment longer than may be comfortable for some. "Yes, sad circumstances indeed, but I don't think our friend would want us moping about too much. Let's be happy to have known him."   "Kent. Kent Butler. And in answer to your question, no I have no idea what this is all about, but I'm taking a little break while my publisher looks at my last manuscript, so I've got both the time and the inclination to try and find out. What do you think of that note? Tell no one about what?"   He sits back and lights a cigarette.    

Good idea! That fits in with his nature pretty well too. Thanks for the suggestion.

No worries, I thought as much!   I might have to tweak his backstory a little now - can't see his EDU of 69 equating to the degree from Oxford that's in his backstory 🙂

Quick question regarding my second EDU improvement roll for Kent:   His EDU is currently at 69 (following the first EDU improvement roll). For my second EDU improvement roll I rolled a 69, so equalling the stat. Does that count as a success or not? The rulebook says it needs to be higher but just checking in case I'm missing out on something I could be getting.

Character Workspace   Let's get the dice rolling...   STR, CON, DEX, APP: 65, 50, 55, 65 POW: 55 SIZ, INT, EDU: 50, 60, 60   Nothing outstanding there, but nothing terrible either I guess...   Occupation: Author Occupation Skills: Art (Literature), History, Library Use, Natural World, Other Language (Swahili), Own Language (English), Psychology, one other (Anthropology)   Age: 47 (-5 across STR, DEX, CON; -5 APP; 2 EDU improvement rolls)   STR: 55 (-5 due to age = 50) CON: 65 DEX: 65 APP: 50 (-5 due to age = 45) POW: 55 SIZ: 50 INT: 60 EDU: 60 (+2 improvement rolls) - after improvement roll 1: 69 - after improvement roll 2: still 69

  Kyrian has been ready for a while @Colin - can you let me know what I've missed from the requirements, as I thought I'd addressed everything?

KENT BUTLER Author, ex-Big Game Hunter   Occupation Age Sex Residence Birthplace Author 47 Male Charleston, SC London, UK   STR CON POW DEX APP SIZ INT EDU 50 65 55 65 45 50 60 69 25 | 10 32 | 13 27 | 11 32 | 13 22 | 9 25 | 10 30 | 12 34 | 13   Luck SAN HP MP Move 45 55 11 / 11 11 / 11 8   Build Damage Bonus Dodge 0 None 32 | 16 | 6   INVESTIGATOR SKILLS   Accounting (05%) 5 | 2 | 1   Law (05%) 5 | 2 | 1 Anthropology (01%) 10 | 10 | 4   Library Use (20%) 80 | 40 | 16 Appraise (05%) 5 | 2 | 1   Listen (20%) 30 | 15 | 6 Archaeology (01%) 1 | 0 | 0   Locksmith (01%) 1 | 0 | 0 Art (Literature) (05%) 35 | 17 | 7   Mechanical Repair (10%) 10 | 5 | 2 Charm (15%) 15 | 7 | 3   Medicine (01%) 1 | 0 | 0 Climb (20%) 20 | 10 | 4   Natural World (10%) 70 | 35 | 14 Credit Rating (00%) 29 | 14 | 5   Navigate (10%) 10 | 5 | 2 Cthulhu Mythos (00%) 0 | 0 | 0   Occult (05%) 5 | 2 | 1 Disguise (05%) 5 | 2 | 1   Operate Heavy Machinery (01%) 1 | 0 | 0 Dodge (32%) 32 | 16 | 6   Persuade (10%) 10 | 5 | 2 Drive Auto (20%) 20 | 10 | 4   Pilot (01%) 1 | 0 | 0 Electrical Repair (10%) 10 | 5 | 2   Psychology (10%) 35 | 17 | 7 Fast Talk (05%) 5 | 2 | 1   Psychoanalysis (01%) 1 | 0 | 0 Fighting (Brawl) (25%) 25 | 12 | 5   Ride (05%) 5 | 2 | 1 Firearms (Handgun) (20%) 20 | 10 | 4   Science (01%) 1 | 0 | 0 Firearms (Rifle) (25%) 75 | 37 | 15   Sleight of Hand (10%) 10 | 5 | 2 First Aid (30%) 30 | 15 | 6   Spot Hidden (25%) 35 | 17 | 7 History (05%) 35 | 17 | 7   Stealth (20%) 40 | 20 | 8 Intimidate (15%) 15 | 7 | 3   Survival (10%) 10 | 5 | 2 Jump (20%) 20 | 10 | 4   Swim (20%) 20 | 10 | 4 Language (Own - English) (69%) 72 | 36 | 14   Throw (20%) 20 | 10 | 4 Language (Other - Swahili) (01%) 50 | 25 | 10   Track (10%) 60 | 30 | 12   Cash Assets Spending Level $58 $1,450 $10   Premise: Kent was born into wealth and has kept hold of it ever since, despite a somewhat reckless lifestyle. He made a reputation for himself as a guide and hunter in Africa, but now works as an author, drawing on his experiences on the Dark Continent to produce a succession of bestselling novels.   Appearance: Two decades spent under the African sun have made Kent look a little older than his years, and his skin is weathered and lined. He is neither handsome nor unattractive, but he does carry himself with good bearing and is usually well turned out, choosing clothes that are comfortable but smart, and always of the best quality. His dark hair is receding now, but his blue eyes maintain the same sparkle as when he was a young boy, and his youthful vigour shines through in all that he does.   Personality: Kent retains the enthusiasm of his youth, and brims with energy and curiosity. Gregarious to the extreme, he would think nothing of inviting a complete stranger to his house for dinner if there was an interesting conversation to be had. His breeding is well evident in his refined, eloquent speech and impeccable manners, but he has discovered the common touch and could never be accused of snobbery.   Background:  Kent is from a well-off English family that can trace its ancestry back to the fourteenth century, and Cobham House, the grand manor in which he was born and raised, has been the family home since the early 1600s. The family has a history of producing eccentrics, and Kent is the latest in a long line who have eschewed the tradition of practising law in favour of a life of adventure and risk-taking.   Kent enrolled at Oxford University following an unremarkable private education, but he never completed his degree. During his time at Oxford he became fascinated with Africa, from books he read and reports sent back by colonists that were printed in English newspapers. In 1898, at the age of just 20, he moved to British East Africa, where he bought a coffee plantation.   The plantation did not last long in his hands. He grew bored of it quickly, and sold it to a Swedish baron. Instead, he ran a successful firm of safari guides, with clients including members of the European aristocracy.   He became well established in his field, and soon became one of East Africa's most sought-after guides, renowned for his encyclopaedic knowledge of local flora and fauna as well as his tracking and shooting skills. His willingness to immerse himself in the local culture and to treat the natives as equals brought him a great deal of respect and he become something of a celebrity in those parts during the pre-war years. Kent remained in Africa during the Great War, but it was a difficult time as business was slow and the distraction of the East African Campaign presented other challenges that made life less pleasant than he had become accustomed to.   After the war, business picked up once more but Kent gained another distraction - a relationship with an American woman named Gloria Marlowe, who had joined one of his hunting expeditions and stayed on in Kenya afterwards. After a whirlwind courtship, they became engaged and when Gloria left for New York, Kent followed a month later, as soon as he had finalised his affairs in Africa.   Kent's marriage to Gloria began in the summer of 1920 and was over by Christmas, mercifully put out of its misery by a quick divorce. By then, Kent had started writing about his experiences in Africa and his first manuscript - a semi-autobiographical novel about the trials and tribulations of a British big game hunter - was picked up by the first publishing house to read it. Kent loved American life, but hated New York, so as soon as his divorce was finalised he moved south to Charleston, where the purchase of a house hardly made a dent in his substantial savings. There, he set himself up as a full time writer, churning out four novels in his first two years, much to the delight of his publisher.   Kent has been settled in Charleston for a few years now, and has made a lot of friends in the town. He is currently working on his latest novel - the first in a series about a safari guide who uncovers a demon-worshipping cult in East Africa, a departure from his usual light-hearted tales of adventure but one that he hopes will allow him to be taken more seriously as a writer.

I think Kyrian is all done @Colin. Let me know if anything needs changing.

KYRIAN GREENWOOD Half-Elf Ranger APPEARANCE As befits someone who spends much of his time outdoors, Kyrian dresses practically in comfortable clothing of drab colours and designs. He has long brown hair that he sometimes wears tied back to stop it falling into his eyes. Despite his ancestry, he has has few overtly elven features, and appears human to most people. He has a habit of staring intently at those who he is listening to, as if his hazel eyes are boring into their soul, which others find equally captivating and unnerving.   PERSONALITY Kyrian is someone who prefers to listen rather than speak, and is a man of few words. He is calm, softly spoken and never appears rushed or flustered, as if he already knows how an event or incident will turn out. He sometimes gives the impression that he is aloof and cold, though in truth he has the ability to detach himself from a situation and view it as if from afar, which gives him a sense of perspective that allows him to remain measured and calm. He maintains a strong sense of justice, however, and is a champion of the poor and downtrodden, valuing the toil of the peasantry as far more valuable to society than the pomposity and excess of the wealthy.   Despite spending much of his time alone, Kyrian does value company and enjoys nothing more than returning from a hunt to spend an evening at a local tavern, listening to the tales of the locals or, if he is lucky, a travelling performer.   BACKGROUND Kyrian’s parents were well-regarded elves (his mother was in fact a half-elf) from East Faerûn, who were caught on the wrong side of a conspiracy against their queen. When their part in the conspiracy was discovered, they fled for their lives across Faerûn with the elven queen’s soldiers always just behind them. In order to save their infant son from a terrible fate, they left him wrapped in a blanket on the doorstep of a poor woodcutter in a hamlet in the Dales. Whatever became of them has never been learned.   The child was raised by the woodcutter and his wife, who named him and nurtured him in the ways of their small woodland community, yet he grew to possess the spirit and beauty of his elven forebears. When he was old enough, he began to assist his father as a woodcutter, and he grew quite strong hewing logs for the people of the village.   Kyrian’s life might have been a happy and contented one, except that the village was administered by a tyrannical officer of the Lumber Consortium, a man named Soldred Craan. Craan bribed, blackmailed and extorted the villagers, who lived in poverty while he wallowed in relative luxury, surrounded by the fruits of his ill-gotten gains. Craan was protected by an ex-mercenary known only as Gran, a brutish half-orc who did the overseer’s dirty work and was feared and hated even more than his employer.   One winter’s day, Kyrian was delivering a load of wood to the family of a sick friend when Gran stopped him and demanded that he give up the wood he was carrying for use in Craan’s kitchen. Kyrian tried to explain that the wood was going to help the needy, but Gran only laughed and struck him in the face. Something snapped in Kyrian and, leaping up, he seized a log and attacked the half-orc. Gran had been a mighty warrior in his day, but he had grown soft bullying and terrifying the poor peasants of the village. Even so, he managed to fend off Kyrian’s initial assault, but he could not stand the half-elf’s ferocity for long; soon he fell dead, his skull crushed like a melon.   Flushed with success, Kyrian cast aside his log, seized Gran’s sword and marched to the home of Soldred Craan, followed by a throng of cheering villagers. There, they broke in and found their oppressor cowering under a table. The crowd wanted to lynch Craan, but Kyrian refused to take another life now that they were free of the man’s tyranny. Instead, Craan was given warm clothing and rations for a week and ordered to leave the region. With his horded wealth, the peasants had enough to see them through the winter.   Only a week passed when soldiers arrived in the village looking for Kyrian. Craan, it seemed, had fled only as far as the nearest town, where the Magistrate - a halfling in the pocket of the Lumber Consortium – had promised swift retribution. Stonewalled by the villagers, the soldiers departed empty-handed, but with a promise to return and ensure that justice was done. Kyrian knew that his presence was endangering not only his own life, but that of every villager. With a heavy heart he packed a handful of belongings and, after a tearful farewell with his adopted parents, left town that very night. His father’s last gift to him was the bow that he had owned as a boy, and with which Kyrian had learned to hunt.   For months, Kyrian travelled with no destination in mind, wandering from place to place and often making his bed in the wilds. He knew that he had his elven instincts to thank for his survival, but also that he missed the comfort of a warm bed. Thinking that he had travelled far enough that he need not fear being hunted any more, he resolved to settle in the next town that he came to. That town happened to be Greenest, where he has spent the last few weeks making a living from hunting in the surrounding area. Curiously, though, his recent wandering lifestyle has given him itchy feet, and when he heard of the caravan heading south he thought it might be interesting to tag along.