Brad Finley


St – 100 Hp – 100 Height – 4’10" | Weight – 140 | Age – 16
Dx – 1360 Will – 100
IQ – 100 Per – 1210
HT – 100 FP – 100

Basic Lift/Speed/Move – 20/845/80
Damage Thr 1d-2 Sw 1d

Combat Reflexes….15
Regen (1hp/sec)

Social Stigma (Criminal Record)..[-5]
Social Stigma (Minor)…………[-5]
Dislikes Cats………………..[-1]

Guns/TL8 (Pistol) 16 Dx+3 (2)
Guns/TL8 (Rifle) 18 Dx+5 (16)


Weapon Damage Acc Range Weight RoF Shots St Bulk Rel Cost LC
Revolver .357 3d-1pi | 2 | 185/2000 | 3/.21 | 3 | 6(3si) | 10 | -2 | 3 | $500 | 3
Bolt-Action 7dpi | 5 | 1000/4200 | 8.9/.3 | 1 | 5+1(3) | 10 | -5 | 4 | $350 | 3

I always had a close relationship with my father, Chuck. Whenever he could get away from work, he would always do something with me. He’s the one that helped me when I first got into school. I was always small for my age, and the kids in school always made fun of me. He taught me how to spin it around, make it so they don’t have anything to say to me. We would also go out camping, getting our own food while out there, whether it was hunting or fishing. It always seemed like he felt guilty about something, like he know I needed a break from home life and needed to get away from everything. I never really understood the reasons behind it, it seemed odd, but I enjoyed the trips and the hunting, so I never complained. Then my life took a turn for the worse. During the drive home from one of our camping trips, there was a blind corner and I hit a broken down car and flipped ours over. Another ar came around that same corner and hit our car on the passenger side, killing my father. I was in the hospital for a few days, recovering from the accident. Got a couple visitors, my mother came around from time to time and students from the football team. Coach says I was lucky that I didn’t break my legs, it could have affected my running.

Mom: “Why would your father let you drive? Didn’t you JUST get your permit?”
Me: “Yes mom, he was wanting me to get some time behind the wheel, isn’t that what a permit is for? I did everything I could, they were just stopped in the worst place on that road. There was nothing more I could do. What do you want from me? You think I wanted this?”
Mom: “No Brad, I know you didn’t. I just don’t understand. I don’t know what to do!”

She started to break down after that. It seemed like her whole world just crashed down around her, like she was left alone. I could totally relate. It always felt weird around my mom. Like we never really connected. There is just this cold breeze blowing through our house. We rarely talk, and if we do, its just what’s for dinner, or homework, but nothing with real substance. Then one day, T (our teams quarterback) and I found a fun hobby together, fire. Not really sure what we were putting into the football fields grass, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It got way out of control. We both got busted and charged.

Mom: “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!? Fire? At the school? I can’t believe this. What’s next? What is wrong with you!?”
Me: “What? I don’t know, just looked like fun. I needed to blow off steam”
Mom: “Is that a joke? Steam with the fire? Ha..ha…. seriously Brad, why would you do this?”
Me: “I DON’T KNOW MOM! You might think its how life has been since dad? You think its fun for me to come home to nothing? I used to get a break from everything I deal with at school when we would go camping. I haven’t had that, I felt like I needed a release.”
Mom: “I know Brad, I think Chuck did that for the both of us. I knew what I was signing on for when I started dating your father, but I didn’t know something like this would happen. I don’t know if I can do this by myself”
Me: “What? Wait, what are you talking about mom? What are you saying?”
Mom: “omg… (chuck never told him?)…well…um…Sorry Brad, I just can’t right now.”

She walked out of the room after that, I was kind of confused. Later on that day, I put two and two together. I wasn’t her son. There was no connection between my mother and I and now I know why. I felt numb, I didn’t know how to feel. Sad that I never knew my birth mom, mad at my dad for never telling me, or mad at my now Step-Mother for never helping me feel normal, like there was something wrong with me.

Brad Finley

Certain Death Tenks