Grater

D8 D10
D6 D8

Physical
Height: 16 hands
Dash: 10 paces
Lift bonus: 3
Magic points: -

Size: 8 stone
Stride: 2.5 paces
Strength: D8
Soak: D8
Gifts: Claws (Racial), Teeth (Racial), Increased Trait, Keen Ears, Keen Nose, Luck
Flaws: Scofflaw, Overconfident, Proud, Bad Reputation, (Uncommon, Moderate)
Self-improvement: You can't improve upon perfection!

Equipment
Right Hand: Blunderbuss
Body: Dirty, worn, dark clothes
Cloak
Concealed: Knife (Just in case...)

Hit Points
Race:Weasel   Habitat: Plains   Senses: Smell
D12 Career: Bandit
 D6  
    
     Skills
D12     Contortionist
D12     Dodge
D12     Tracking
D12 D6    Stealth
 D6    Intimidation
 D6    Streetwise
 D6    Tactics
    D8 Area knowledge (Darker parts of Triskellian)
    D4 Brawling (He would rather avoid it though)
    D10 Camouflage (Especially in the shadows)
    D10 Guns (A blunderbuss surely looks menacing)
    D6 Observation
    D8 Shadowing (Poor hapless victim...)
    D10 Sixth Sense
Combat

Weapon (A): Blunderbuss (Gun with a funnel-shaped muzzle)
To-hit: D10
Parry: - Damage: 2D10 (Equal to Quarter-stone gun at close range, otherwise 2D8)
Special: Slaying

Weapon (B): Claws / Teeth
To-hit: D12, D10, D4
Parry: D12, D10, D4
Damage: D8, D6
Special: +D6 (Claws), Grappling (Teeth)

Initiative: D10, D6
Resolve: D8
Armour: Heavy Leather
Dice & Soak: 2D8

Block: D10
Dodge: D10
Shield: Cloak (D6)

Status: NPC bandit of Triskellian, forming his band with Gris and Peeky.

Some people just have more luck than they deserve. Grater is a typical example of the more despicable variant of this rare condition. Being of no particular background but one of bullying weaker creatures and committing gradually more unspeakable acts of crime while his uncaring parents were enhancing their relationship with ethanol enriched beverages, Grater still always managed to pull through, getting away with his deeds one nasty way or another. As he was proven to be more or less invulnerable, gradually he began to think of himself as a genius, a mastermind of crime.

Naturally, Grater was nothing of the sort. His mind was rather mediocre, his plans were at best haphazard, but more often outright moronically unsophisticated, and what saved him was sheer luck. The weasel did not know that, and if he had known, he would of course have denied it, his confidence in himself being itself of almost criminal proportions. So, after a while, he decided to expand his operations. He began looking for associates, and before long, he had found his team.

Among the cretins and mentally incapacitated inhabitants of the S'allumer-forgotten regions of Triskellian's gutters, Grater managed to find two individuals who actually, by sheer comparison, would prove him a glorious and forever undisputed leader. They listened to him, and took everything he said seriously. They thought he was smart, the greatest, the best. They adored him. Of course, this was sweet music to Grater's ears, and his ego would probably have ruptured his skull, if the bony structure in question wouldn't have been so thick.

Today you might, if you're most unfortunate, be ambushed by the trio, which as time passed has become somewhat less than hopelessly untalented. If this happens, you might want to consider doing as the poor excuses for bandits say, not because you can't take on these inept rogues, but rather that in the end, the phenomenal luck of Grater will always win in some particularily evil way. Among criminals, it is legendary, and others keep away from him. But luck can't last forever. The day Grater runs out of it, they will be waiting for him...

Grater is Copyright (C) Thomas Hagenfeldt (aka Chama C. Fox) 1999-2000