Post by Boros on May 23, 2016 20:48:56 GMT
Name: Hoster Blackfort
Age: 49 (17th of the 1st Moon)
Relation to Lord: Uncle
Position at Harrenhal: Captain of the Guards
Religion:God of Wine and Titties Old Gods
Skills:
Fighting:
One Handed Weapons
-Swords (+5 Against Leather) 87
Special
Small Blades 63
Unarmed 57
Armor
-Chain (40 Points)
-Shields (30 Points)
Leadership:
-Command (Land) 80
-Ambush/Scouting 50
Political:
Social
--Intimidation 81
Intrigue
-Espionage (Managing a Spy Network) 74
Character History:
This is Hoster, Hoster is a simple man in his tastes: a simple barrel of ale a day, a simple whoring in the afternoon, a simple drunken sucker punch in the annoying pricks at the bar. His father was a knight, his brothers are Knights, his nephew is a knight and look, they are a bunch of sardonic arseholes, so he's not very attracted to that kind of shit. Being the middle son, no one ever paid much attention to what he did or did not, thus the young Hoster spent most of his youth playing on the streets, making friends, very dirty, ugly looking friends, of the type who'd fuck their own sister for a slice of cheese. Young Hoster felt quite at home with that type of people, especially because the only reason he wouldn't fuck his own sister for a slice of cheese was that he had no sister and he was no bloody pillowbiter to fuck his brothers.
Hardened by his days playing in the alleys of Lord Harroway's Town, he discovered one thing that he was really good at: harassing people on the streets. When time came or him to choose a trade to follow, he chose the thing that most people who are good at harassing and extortion did: he joined the town guard. Now, you see, Harroway's suffers from a series of problems in the field of public security, especially because there are parts of town that no one bothers to go check; this leads them to have lots of personnel, but not much work to do. This was perfect for Hoster because he could use the spare time to practice his other hobbies while at the same time, be paid for it. It was a dream job. He even got to be Captain for a while (which meant more money and less work), but after a bureaucratic complication - the charges of trying to extort money out of Lord Roote's brother in law are false, and it was definitely not his family name that held him from being thrown into the dungeons.
Discharged from his office, Hoster was again presented with only one rational choice: joining the private sector. Remember when I told you that there were parts of town no one bothered with? Well, let's say Hoster got some friends and started taking care of the place. One would imagine that these type of fellows would be untrustworthy... well, they were, but only until Hoster taught them a little Blackfort discipline. After that that you could have mistook them for Unsullied (only with balls and less dignity). Again, nothing illegal was being practiced, Hoster and his band had an interesting donation system which involved people choosing to pay whatever they wanted for the safety of their own children. It's clearly a legal vein of work. When the war came, Hoster decided to expand hi business; it's amusing how much money you can MAKE (not take, see the wording?) from camp followers and all those damned bloodsuckers who make their living following an army. Of course, when the fighting came, Hoster and his friends had already gone to the closest tavern to make sure that none of those Targaryen bastards would harass the poor owners of the establishment.
When the War was over, there was some talking that his nephew had slain some bloody high bastard and was about to receive a big title of something. Hoster felt quite intrigued by this, for he had always cared so much for his nephew. Many times when young Beric [sic] had been ill, good uncle Hoster had taken him in his embrace; he had on several occasions taken his nephew for a walk through town... Ok, maybe he's never done any of that. But the point is, Harrenhal is a big fucking castle and Belric was no Aegon the Conqueror, he'd need some help to take care of it, and Hoster needed money. One hand washes the other, alright? There's no shame, nor crime, in exploiting a blood bond for the betterment of one's gold purse... And so Hoster and his merry band of thugs were welcomed by his nephew as the new noble Harrenhal Guard.
Boon:
Squeeze Water from a Stone-During the monthly house finance roll, Hoster may roll intimidation in order to squeeze extra taxes out of the peasants of Harrentown, without raising their ire. In addition, Hoster rolls +5 to Command and Fighting rolls against those he has previously successfully intimidated.
Curse:
Bound to the Bottle-A functioning alcoholic, Hoster should always have a drink on hand, or he will suffer -10 to all rolls. In addition, in social drinking events (feasts, taverns, tourneys, ect.), Hoster will make a strength roll. On a successful roll, nothing happens. On a failure, he will drink to the point of blacking out, in which case the admins will take control of him until the next morning and roll to see what trouble he gets up to in his drunken stupor. Witnesses will be sent a PM detailing what you did while shitfaced and you will have to piece the story together by speaking to them.
Bloodline Trait: None
Bonuses and Onuses
One Arm, One Eye, One Huge Dick: Hoster has -10 in Fights and Physical Rolls, but gains a +5 in every Intimidation Roll.
Schrödinger's Hoster: If you don't know your character's father until an Admin reveals it, then Hoster is both your father and isn't.
Age: 49 (17th of the 1st Moon)
Relation to Lord: Uncle
Position at Harrenhal: Captain of the Guards
Religion:
Skills:
Fighting:
One Handed Weapons
-Swords (+5 Against Leather) 87
Special
Small Blades 63
Unarmed 57
Armor
-Chain (40 Points)
-Shields (30 Points)
Leadership:
-Command (Land) 80
-Ambush/Scouting 50
Political:
Social
--Intimidation 81
Intrigue
-Espionage (Managing a Spy Network) 74
Character History:
This is Hoster, Hoster is a simple man in his tastes: a simple barrel of ale a day, a simple whoring in the afternoon, a simple drunken sucker punch in the annoying pricks at the bar. His father was a knight, his brothers are Knights, his nephew is a knight and look, they are a bunch of sardonic arseholes, so he's not very attracted to that kind of shit. Being the middle son, no one ever paid much attention to what he did or did not, thus the young Hoster spent most of his youth playing on the streets, making friends, very dirty, ugly looking friends, of the type who'd fuck their own sister for a slice of cheese. Young Hoster felt quite at home with that type of people, especially because the only reason he wouldn't fuck his own sister for a slice of cheese was that he had no sister and he was no bloody pillowbiter to fuck his brothers.
Hardened by his days playing in the alleys of Lord Harroway's Town, he discovered one thing that he was really good at: harassing people on the streets. When time came or him to choose a trade to follow, he chose the thing that most people who are good at harassing and extortion did: he joined the town guard. Now, you see, Harroway's suffers from a series of problems in the field of public security, especially because there are parts of town that no one bothers to go check; this leads them to have lots of personnel, but not much work to do. This was perfect for Hoster because he could use the spare time to practice his other hobbies while at the same time, be paid for it. It was a dream job. He even got to be Captain for a while (which meant more money and less work), but after a bureaucratic complication - the charges of trying to extort money out of Lord Roote's brother in law are false, and it was definitely not his family name that held him from being thrown into the dungeons.
Discharged from his office, Hoster was again presented with only one rational choice: joining the private sector. Remember when I told you that there were parts of town no one bothered with? Well, let's say Hoster got some friends and started taking care of the place. One would imagine that these type of fellows would be untrustworthy... well, they were, but only until Hoster taught them a little Blackfort discipline. After that that you could have mistook them for Unsullied (only with balls and less dignity). Again, nothing illegal was being practiced, Hoster and his band had an interesting donation system which involved people choosing to pay whatever they wanted for the safety of their own children. It's clearly a legal vein of work. When the war came, Hoster decided to expand hi business; it's amusing how much money you can MAKE (not take, see the wording?) from camp followers and all those damned bloodsuckers who make their living following an army. Of course, when the fighting came, Hoster and his friends had already gone to the closest tavern to make sure that none of those Targaryen bastards would harass the poor owners of the establishment.
When the War was over, there was some talking that his nephew had slain some bloody high bastard and was about to receive a big title of something. Hoster felt quite intrigued by this, for he had always cared so much for his nephew. Many times when young Beric [sic] had been ill, good uncle Hoster had taken him in his embrace; he had on several occasions taken his nephew for a walk through town... Ok, maybe he's never done any of that. But the point is, Harrenhal is a big fucking castle and Belric was no Aegon the Conqueror, he'd need some help to take care of it, and Hoster needed money. One hand washes the other, alright? There's no shame, nor crime, in exploiting a blood bond for the betterment of one's gold purse... And so Hoster and his merry band of thugs were welcomed by his nephew as the new noble Harrenhal Guard.
Boon:
Squeeze Water from a Stone-During the monthly house finance roll, Hoster may roll intimidation in order to squeeze extra taxes out of the peasants of Harrentown, without raising their ire. In addition, Hoster rolls +5 to Command and Fighting rolls against those he has previously successfully intimidated.
Curse:
Bound to the Bottle-A functioning alcoholic, Hoster should always have a drink on hand, or he will suffer -10 to all rolls. In addition, in social drinking events (feasts, taverns, tourneys, ect.), Hoster will make a strength roll. On a successful roll, nothing happens. On a failure, he will drink to the point of blacking out, in which case the admins will take control of him until the next morning and roll to see what trouble he gets up to in his drunken stupor. Witnesses will be sent a PM detailing what you did while shitfaced and you will have to piece the story together by speaking to them.
Bloodline Trait: None
Bonuses and Onuses
One Arm, One Eye, One Huge Dick: Hoster has -10 in Fights and Physical Rolls, but gains a +5 in every Intimidation Roll.
Schrödinger's Hoster: If you don't know your character's father until an Admin reveals it, then Hoster is both your father and isn't.
