Bannon Creedon

[bumwine]

First Name: Bannon
Last Name: Creedon

Appearance:
Race: Human
Age: 31
Height: 6 Foot
Weight: 210 lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black with flecks of Grey
Facial Hair Style: Perpetual Stubble

Personality Profile:
General Health: Capable of sustaining a fair amount of abuse.
Deity: Shaundakul
Initial Alignment: C/N (Isn't against Being C/G, Just thinks its a dangerous line of work)
Profession: Woodsman
Base Class & Proposed Development: Rogue/Ranger/Order of the Bow Initiate/(maybe) Wilderness Stalker - All things related to marksmanship and hunting
Habits/Hobbies: Hunting, wandering, drinking when in civilized locales, killing things before they hit him.
Languages: Common, Elven, other
Weapon of Choice: Longbows, which he affectionately names with feminine monikers when he gets particularly fond of them.

Background:

The Realms are a land of a lot of uncommon stories. Bannon sometimes takes heart in the fact his is a common one. He was born the son of a woodsman. He grew up in a dale too small to mention. He heard stories of wine, women, song. He also heard of more women, women who might get naked in front of him for a fee or a kind word or two. He left Unmentionabledale . He found some wine (big fan of that). He found (not that many) women. He didn't really bother with the songs.

He fell in with a minor group of ruffians along the Sword Coast. He was promised wine, women, song. They were called the Redhoods due to their distinctive face-covering garb. It was a gang thing. He didn't bother questioning it. He got to go to the cities a couple of times to sell booty. He realized how well the rich had it, how poor his family in Unmentionabledale had it, and how much he didn't like cities built to sustain the rich being as rich as they were. He also heard a bit about some "Harper" folk in that time. He liked the cut of their jib. He didn't think much more of it. He thought bar room talk has that way.

He also realized how him robbing whoever he could didn't much help the problem of these sort of inequities that bothered him.

He quit the Redhoods. He went out on his own. He said damn the cities. He said he'd learn to live on his own. He'd hope Ma and Pa were still doing so as well. He wished he could do something, while he was making a living, something to at least make things a little better (on the quiet like, no need to be a hero) for others like his ma and pa, people who had to live on the fringe of the world.

He got good with a bow.
He hoped that was all he ever would need.


Goals: Survive. Live off the land to an extent. Protect what he can when he can (hates evil aligned intrusions into honest folks' space). Wouldn't mind joining the Harpers.

Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts: Hard drinker when in civilized lands. Not a fan of civilization. Can be known to talk a lot, but can be known to be quite taciturn when business is afoot. Hates front line fighting. Loves prowling the woods with a bow in hand and a target in mind. Loves his bow. Loves honest work. Does dishonest work if he needs to (as long as it doesn't violate his own ethical code). Hates rich folk. Likes honest working folk. Quite fond of the Harpers, wishes he could be one.

[DM Cradh]

Reviewed and rewarded.