Short but stocky at 5'10 and 220 pounds. Not very remarkable face. Almost dwarfed by his massive backpack and all its straps.
Veteran of the Weird West (free edge)
Tale Teller (raise)
Linguist (hindrance buy)
Slowpoke (-2 pace, to reflect brawny, while letting agility be decent for shooting. was better in deadlands classic)
Quirk (when asked why he has something, will respond “why don’t I have x”)
Strength- d8 (raise boost)
Spirit- d8 (hindrance points boost)
Shooting: d8 (4 points)
Fighting (Naginata): d8 (4 points)
Knowledge (Occult): d6 (2 points)
Persuasion: d8 (only for telling stories and convincing people to fight, no lying or the like) (3 points)
Guts: d6 (2 points)
Belongings and such: (wt/cost)
Bullard Express- (11/30)
100 .50 rifle rounds- (12/8)
100 strange .40 pistol rounds- (10/6)
20 shotgun shells (2/2)
Shirt (work)x2- (2/2)
Bed Roll- (10/4)
4 yrds barbed wire (1.25/.2)
Fold-able shovel (5/1.5)
Backpack (self made and huge) (3/2)
5 Sticks dynamite (5/15)
Mess kit (3/2)
Lantern+ 1 gallon oil (10/10)
7 oz gold (0/35)
Total: 136 Pounds and 195 bucks (55 remaining, half in union greenbacks, half in confederate dollars)
Ben Crowley’s eyes show far too much weariness to belong to a man who is only 23 years old. Coming from the backwoods of Tuscaloosa county Alabama, his thick drawl belies an intelligent mind lurking beneath it all. Not that his enemies would know, his preferred form of fighting is all of the above. The last man who expected him to be coming up all honorable and such had his head blown off from half a mile away thanks to his bullard express. To his friends he is a kind man always cooking up something on the trail, but the intense ruthlessness at the heart of his quest means that no one is ever feels quite comfortable with him. His enemies would know him as something else, if they weren’t too busy donating to the “six feet under” fertilizer bank.
Now he wanders the south, doing odd jobs killing outlaws for traveling money. However for some off reason he always avoids the rangers and rumors has it the South’s law dogs are gunning for him. No one knows why, though his actions against Bayou Vermillion and Black River might have something to do with it.
He has a tendency to over pack and the myriad circumstances he tends to find himself in usually vindicates his preparations, not that he minds lugging around the stuff. Farm work has made him as strong as an ox, if albeit as quick as one as well. He always seems to have a story about why he has each item, when asked and after a while most people tend to assume its necessary, probably for a creepy reason. This includes why he has enough barbed wire to hog tie a man too. Don’t ask.
His family is long gone, having been caught in the crossfire during the North Alabama insurrection in the 1860 and 70’s and his friends have a bad habit of dying under mysterious circumstances. No matter where he turns, the Agency and Rangers tend to be close behind to pick up the mess, though for some strange reason a sense of hope follows him too.
As for womenfolk, well he only has eyes for one person. Only problem is those eyes tend to be staring at her through gun sights. When they are not shooting at each other, Carmen Espesita and him get on swimmingly. When she is on the clock for Black River, well that’s another story.
He only seems to have one goal and that’s to spread hope by tracking down weirdness and putting it in the grave. Anything else, even those closest to him, may be sacrificed without second thought if it might be necessary to serve that goal…