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Micheal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.

Group Check

Highest Skill(Brawling)

Highest Stat(DEX)

Highest Combat(Brawling)

ResultsGroup 1
Total Highest Skill: +6,+4,+4 = +14
Total Highest Stat: +1, +5, +5 = +11
Total Combat Skill: +7, +10, +3 = +20

Micheal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.

Group Check

Highest Skill(Brawling)

Highest Stat(DEX)

Highest Combat(Brawling)

ResultsGroup 1
Total Highest Skill: +6,+4,+4 = +14
Total Highest Stat:
Total Combat Skill:

Micheal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.

Group Check

Highest Skill(Brawling)

Highest Stat(DEX)

Highest Combat(Brawling)

ResultsGroup 1
Total Highest Skill: +6,+4,+4 = +14
Total Highest Stat:
Total Combat Skill:

Micheal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.

Group Check

Highest Skill(Brawling)

Highest Stat(DEX)

Highest Combat(Brawling)

Micheal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.

Group Check:1d2

Highest Skill(Brawling):repeat(3d6,3)

Highest Stat(DEX):repeat(3d6,3)

Highest Combat(Brawling):repeat(3d6,3)

Micheal Fionn MacCreedy

ST: 11 | DX: 12 | IQ: 11 | HT: 10 | Will: 11(13) | PER: 11 | Speed: 5.5

HP: 11/11 | FP: 10/10 | Dodge: 8 | Parry: 12 (Brawling) / 9 (Knife) | Thr: 1d-1 | Sw: 1d+1

Fionn worked hard throughout his indoctrination and training. Not always the most successful student in school, this time he was determined to achieve something better. The Foundation had offered him a life line out of both prison and the peculiar, trauma of whatever happened on that hot, forgotten, summer night. He even had to admit, the shrink had helped. At least a little. Since he'd been undergoing his sessions with Dr. Reich, the voices had backed off a little. All except Mary. But even she'd settled down to something that was more of a curious murmur instead of her usual dire warnings and constant 'I told you so's' whenever he'd managed to screw something else up. Regardless, improvement was improvement and it was all thanks to the Foundation. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of his heart, he hoped the people here could help him finally unlock what happened that night. Help him discover the truth. Did he really hurt those people? Kill them? Or is he really innocent as he believes? And if so, then what little bit of the devil's own kin did?

He'd just finished cleaning and rebuilding the carburetor for the old '67 Ford his instructors had tasked him with getting into shape when the call came. Why they wanted the old gas guzzler back on the road, he didn't know and didn't ask. Clearly there were more important things on his immediate plate as his orders to report were clear that dallying wasn't going to be tolerated. Wiping his hands on an oily rag, Fionn quickly snatches his pistol and jams it into the pocket of his coveralls and hurries off to join the others assigned to his task group.