| Strider Human Bard, weathly and connected. Strider’s Character Sheet |
 |
Joe’s homebrew notes
As Strider is the only person to not pick a supernatural race, he will get some bonuses to make him still helpful. +4 to all technology rolls, +2 to performance, +3 to disguises, and +1 to contacts. Strider also has an unlimited credit card through his family’s old wealth. Although unlimited, it is checked on. Especially if truly opulent purchases are made.
Backstory
By Dillon
(Emailed to the group day of the first session.)
The backstory of a bard? The story of a man who collects stories. It all started years ago, like all good stories begin, with love. Sadly, not all love bears fruit from its own roots, and after years of trying my parents gave up and adopted me, a little unruly six year old that had been bounced from foster home to foster home. Why me?
Because I am magical and so are they. No, not transforming magical girl magical, I know that is where your mind went. I have the ability to cast illusions, move small items with my mind, create sounds out of nothing, heal people, and yes, as I found out the hard way, hurt people too.
A jack of all trades, and a master at none, is the joke used often to describe my class. And I won’t lie, it’s true. But it fits me well. I am average in every sense of the word, my looks, my height, even my clothing. I am a true chameleon. After accidentally hurting another kid at school, my new foster mom took me out and my true education began. From magic, to math, to learning how to blend into any situation, she taught me, and I loved it.
We are a family of merchants, an antique word in the century, yes, but an accurate one. I was sixteen when I began flying around the world with my parents to help them collect and resell specialty items from all walks of life. From wine, to art, to prototypes of robots we did it all.
I will never forget, it was a Tuesday evening, we were at an auction buying, what was thought was movie prop, when the walls around us shook. People screamed and ran as chunks of the vaulted ceiling of the fancy wood paneled room crashed to the ground. Young and ambitious, I took the confusion in and dashed up taking hold of the staff we were there to procure. It had been stolen in the first place, according to our source, but as I wrapped my hand around it, the world blurred and popped. My stomach heaved and I squeezed my eye tight trying to keep its contents in place. Suddenly the sounds in the room changed, light streamed through my closed eyes, and when I opened them I found myself in a completely different place!
“I have to give you credit young man,” an old wizened voice wheezed. “I didn’t think you would have the balls to try and steal it from the auction.” I turned to find a man, too tall to be human, too thin and wispy to be alive looking down at me.That was my introduction to the underworld, the world I had heard of but was warned to never get involved in. And that was almost ten years ago now. The man, an ent, Diarmuid, is a powerful friend and mentor as I work to expand my parents trading empire and collect and record the stories of demon underground so well hidden just under our noses.
