Quinn Posted January 28, 2011 Posted January 28, 2011 Player’s Name: Quinn Character’s Name: Crow Power Level: 7 (/105 PP) Trade-Offs: N/A Unspent PP: 0 Gold Status: In Brief: A son of the Morrigan, child of the Irish gods, of the same blood borne by Cuchulainn...without any superpowers. Alternate Identities: Morgan Crowe Identity: Secret Birthplace: Boston, USA. Occupation: Student and attendee of the Claremont Institute. Affiliations: Irish Pantheon, various insundri minor gods and spirits (troubleshooter) Family: Patrick Crowe - Red Hand (father), The Morrigan (mother). Age: 18 (DoB: Oct. 31, 1993) Apparent Age: N/A Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5’10†Weight: 180 lbs (approx.) Eyes: Gold (eyes are also vaguely avian) Hair: Black Description: Morgan Crowe is, for a word, imposing. Not in the physical height or weight sense, but there always seems to be a gravity around him, an intimidating mean that he almost unconsciously projects. He’s every inch Black Irish, raven haired, with angular features that look almost avian on first glance; his looks aren't what you'd call handsome, but they are striking. And while he is young, his muscles are considerably well-developed for a young man, hard-packed slabs that don’t have the same “pretty†look a bodybuilder would have, but honed by years of physical labour. His clothing is generally fairly comfortable, tracksuits and the like when he's exercising, when out and about he tends to wear jeans and one of his favorite hoodies. When "on the job" as Crow, he takes to wearing a costume he's cobbled together from clothes he's made himself, and with his father: a pair of black jeans with Celtic emblems up the legs in white, a black hoodie with the same across the collar of the hood and the emblem of a crow in flight on the chest, a pair of black gloves with steel plates across the back of the hand, black steel-soled boots that thud ominously on the ground...and the coat. A great black coat, reaching down to his ankles, gifted to him grudgingly by his mother. Covering the back, up the arms, and on the shoulders are numerous Celtic runes, that burn whenever he taps into them. Combined with the darkened face once he pulls up his hood, he looks every inch a dangerous bird of prey. Power Descriptions: Generally, when Crow taps into one of his runes, it flares to life in whatever location it is on his coat. Depending on the strength of the rune, it might either smoke briefly, or burn with a near-blinding light as the power flows from the coat into him. History: Several years ago, during the time when Centurion was running around and tussling against the likes of Roman and OverShadow's machinations, there was a young man in Boston, name of Patrick Crowe. He was a teacher of history, a kind and gentle man, given to a quiet demeanor. But yet...he found in himself a certain fire that he could never quench. Every time he saw the heroes on television or the news, he thirsted to help, to see the battle in person, to fight. This thirst scared him, and he suppressed it as best he can...until the day destiny came knocking. He was in a history class when all hell broke loose, teaching his students (ironically) about the legend of Cuchulainn of the Red Hand, the great Irish hero. The man who slew a thousand men in a single battle, who rejected the Morrigan when she sought to seduce him, a true warrior hero of the ages. A spear and shield, said to have been wielded by the hero, lay on his desk. And a villain chose then, when Patrick held those two pieces of history, to strike at the university, attacking the son of a hero said to have attended there. He burst through the door in a blaze of fire and fury, saying that he would pay unto this child tenfold everything his father had done unto him...and then recieved a ringing blow across the head. Turning, there stood Patrick Crowe, his shirt stretched by new-grown muscles, face grinning, eyes flashing, and the teacher bore down upon him roaring an ancient Celtic war cry. Caught off-guard, the villain put up a valiant defense, and the two fought through the university with Crowe giving and asking no quarter, until finally the villain lay defeated on the steps of the school, broken and battered. As the haze lifted from Patrick, he stared at the weapons, looking at the applauding students. He was given a commendation by the city, treated like a hero...and after a visitation from the gods of the ancient Celtic pantheon himself, who informed him of a long-lost connection between his family and the legendary Cuchulainn, he decided he liked the idea of being a hero. Keeping the weapons, he took on the moniker Red Hand, and made an armored costume to fight with. After many years fighting in Boston, earning a reputation as a savage, yet noble hero, he eventually traveled to Freedom City to meet one of his idols, the great Centurion, and decided to settle down there for a while. It was at the behest of the Irish pantheon (specifically the Morrigan) that he fought beside Raven and the Freedom League on many an occasion, even earning an honorary membership (to his great surprise and honor). It was about a year or two before Centurion's death that Red Hand began to feel the age of his years, and he chose to hang up his spear and shield shortly thereafter, returning to Boston. It was a day after his arrival...that he was asked to pay a visit to a very important figure. He repeated an incantation he'd learned years ago, and promptly appeared in a dark forest clearing; standing before him was a young woman, clad in a black cloak and dressed from head to toe in black, with a raven on her shoulder. Crowe immediately knelt in respect, for he recognized her as one of the most dangerous women he'd ever known; the Celtic goddess of battle, strife, and fertility...the Morrigan. She paced around him as he knelt, asking to what honor she had requested his presence, and she smiled. A chill went down his spine. She informed him that he had...pleased her, with his exploits. His legend might have not transcended the great stories of Cuchulainn, but he was a truly legendary figure in his own right. He demurred, acting humbly, and hoped to all his might she wasn't about to ask him what he thought she was. She did. She gave him an offer similar to what she'd given Cuchulainn; lie with her, and let her bear a child that would become an even greater hero than he, one whose name would ring throughout history. Patrick Crowe shuddered at the offer. Red Hand smiled wolvishly. Unlike his idol...Crowe did not deny her. It was about a year later when a knock came on the door, and Crowe opened it to see a basket on the doorstep. A baby was there, and it looked up at him with big eyes. He stared at it briefly, then smiled goofily at it. The baby laughed, and his fate was sealed. For fifteen years, he raised Morgan Crowe as his only son, weaned him on stories of the ancient Irish heroes and his own days as Red Hand, raising him to remember what he'd learned during his long career. To fight your battles with joy, to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, and (he'd always grin at this one) never be afraid to fight dirty. It was on Crowe's sixteenth birthday that both Patrick and Morgan were summoned again, and they appeared in the same clearing Morgan's father had met the Morrigan in years ago. She approached the two, looking at Morgan hungrily...then stopped. And stared. Her face appeared puzzled...then confused...then astonished...then angry. Very, very angry. She swore in a tongue no longer used by man, the two men stepping back as she raged. The boy...had no legendary powers. Nothing in his blood that would match that of Cuchulainn's! He could not even wield Red Hand's ancient shield and spear! This boy could never be a hero! She cast them away, and the two returned to their home, very much shaken. Patrick silently gave thanks that his son, while knowing what was Right, wouldn't be following in his footsteps...but Morgan...Morgan was angry. He was angry at his mother, angry at life in general (he was sixteen, after all). He'd grown up hearing stories of his dad as Red Hand, he'd seen those old weapons on the mantlepiece and prayed for years that he'd get to wield them one day...and now, for some unearthly reason...he'd never get to wield them. Never become a hero. He raged. He fumed. He showed for a time that he and his mother had a very similar temper. Eventually, he settled, but his resentment smouldered. Then, one day, he met somebody. It was a demonstration that Crowe had been interested in at his high school, the art of the "sweet science". Besides the legends of the heroes, he'd always had a passing interest in old-school Irish boxing, DornálaÃocht, CoraÃocht, and Speachóireacht. He watched the competitors go at it hammer and tongs, cheering with his classmates as they watched the show...when it got disrupted. In an act of sweet irony, a villain from Red Hand's heroing days invaded the school, breaking into the gym and roaring that if Red Hand didn't show himself immediately, he'd find his son and punish him for his father's "crimes". Crowe's resentment, still smouldering, exploded, and he stepped up and roared that if the villain wanted a fight, then he was right here! Crowe...got the stuffing beat out of him. The villain punched him with blows far beyond anything the young man could match, kicked him with kicks that made Morgan go sailing, and did so laughing all the while. Morgan endured this punishment silently, desperately trying everything he'd managed to learn from the classes he'd taken, the old moves his dad had shown him, and nothing worked. Lying bleeding on the ground, he watched the villain turn and laugh, demanding that Red Hand show himself and not leave his son so broken and battered. Then, he remembered something; fight your battles with joy, protect those who couldn't protect themselves...and never be afraid to fight dirty. Silently clambering to his feet, he reached out and grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher...then cracked the bad guy over the head with it with a mighty CLANG. The villain staggered briefly, spinning angrily to return the favor, then recieved a faceful of foam, blinding him, followed by another savage crack across the head. A solid kick to the shins hurt Crowe's foot horribly, but the villain tumbled down, clutching it and wheezing as another blast filled his vision. Crowe rained down blows with the fire extinguisher, finally stopping once the villain had stopped moving (but still breathing), and dropped the fire extinguisher on the man's groin. Crowe realized something. While mighty powers were the purview of a lot of different heroes, they weren't all like that. Didn't his father tell him about Raven, and wasn't there this new hero in Freedom City his dad had mentioned, Arrowhawk? They weren't superpowered, but they knew how to fight smart rather than stupid. From there, Crowe was a changed teen. He took his resentment and turned it around, becoming determined to prove his mother wrong. He took jobs on the docks to build up his muscles, followed a strict training regime that had even his dad sweating, practiced his skills endlessly. His father tried his best to dissuade him from his path...but eventually he gave up, essentially becoming Morgan's coach. He introduced him to a few old hero friends, even took him to meet the old Raven, now running the Claremont Institute, and Crowe's skills increased further. Finally, a knock came at the door while Crowe's dad was away. A spirit of the woods, having run from her ancestral home, was looking for the legendary Red Hand, begging for help with a Formorian hunter who sought to capture her. Morgan, now seventeen and full of bantam courage, told her he'd handle it...and actually did. He remembered the lessons of the past, ambushing the hunter in an alleyway and giving him several solid sucker-punches that sent the beast reeling. After finishing the job with a heavy iron bat, he looked up at the sky, picturing his mother looking down...and gave a very rude gesture, grinning. He told the spirit his name was Crow, and if she ever had a problem, he'd be happy to help. Unfortunately...she took him up on his offer. And so did her friends. And several other friends. Armed with nothing but ingenuity, his fists, and the muscle he was rapidly accumulating, he gained a reputation amongst the lower parts of the Tuatha de Dannan and their ilk as a troubleshooter and guardian. He actually managed to keep this a secret from his dad for a while, a year to the day, until he came back home covered in blood and bruises on his eighteenth birthday, just as his dad pulled up in the driveway from grocery shopping. This was followed by a very, very long explanation. Red Hand, Patrick Crowe, sighed...and made a call. Morgan stood there, dripping and bandaged heavily, as his dad said a few things into the phone, something about Claremont, Freedom City, and an old favor. Then he nodded. And looked at Morgan. And told him to pack his bags. As Crowe went upstairs to pack, he opened his closet...and found something. A big black coat, hanging there, covered in old runes he'd never even seen before. He took it down off the hangar to admire it, and a note fell out. He read it...then burst out laughing. "Consider this a wager. On the future. Good luck, Crow. -M." He crumpled the note in his hand, and threw his stuff together. For better or worse, the eyes of the gods were on him now. And come hell or high water, one day his legend'd be just as big as his dad's! Personality & Motivation: Looking at Crowe, it's pretty easy to tell that he wears his heart on his sleeve. He's quick to anger, quick to forgive, and can go from laughing to nail-spitting mad pretty fast if you push the right buttons. Granted, at times he can be a bit rough around the edges, but he's the sweetest guy in the world if you're his friend, and he'll back anyone he calls that to the bitter end. To call him stubborn would be a misnomer, he's a very determined individual, and when he sets his mind on a goal, it's very tough to dissuade him, but he's long learned that while determination is a good thing, taking time to plan and "fight smart" hurts a hell of a lot less than simply stubbornly charging in head-first and "fighting stupid". His main motivation is, has, and always will be to become a great hero, to forge his own legend like his dad and great ancestor, to be a great hero that people would tell stories about. With time and experience, that'll likely change, but for now, he's a young man with a great legacy to live up to, not to mention a whole truckload of issues that still need dealing with. He's doing the best he can. Powers & Tactics: Crowe's motto has always been "Fighting smart hurts a hell of a lot less than fighting stupid", and it shows. He's an expert pugilist (for his age), being wicked fast and possessing an absolutely thunderous right hook. He's never afraid to just dive right into a fight, despite his obvious shortcomings compared to the vast majority of Freedom City, but he always tries to take the time to set the stage beforehand, ensuring the environment is favorable to him, preparing some dirty tricks that'll give him an edge, or at least keeping the villains off-kilter enough for him to nail that one lucky shot that deflates them fast. He never goes anywhere anymore without his backpack and coat once he found out precisely what his mother's gift does, and one of his favorite tactics is to stick with his usual regular punches, letting a villain get overconfident, right before letting loose an absolutely devastating haymaker with the Rune of Earth. Complications: Struggling - He's a young student attending the Claremont Institute. What is this thing you call cash flow? Not Subtle, Yet Quick To Anger - If it's one thing Crow's inherited from his mother, it's her fearsome temper. It's quite easy to make him angry if you know what buttons to push, and he'll never tolerate mocking of his family or especially his father. Mentioning his mother period is a really good way to set him off as well. Eyes Of The Gods - The eyes of the Celtic pantheon, the Tuatha de Dannan, are upon Crow, now that he's taken a route in direct defiance to his mother. On the one hand, some of them are proud and fascinated by this young and resourceful mortal...but others consider him an upstart and a rogue who does not know his place in the way of things. Combine that with the fact that his mother has considerably mixed feelings about him (a great deal of rage that he isn't a superpowered warrior of lore, but a tiny inkling of pride that her son is making his way like this), and you see just how complicated things can get for Crow. Reputation - A few years of monster-busting and troubleshooting for minor spirits and demigods of the Tuatha have given Crow a bit of a rep as an expert problem-solver for those in need. This can lead to slight complications, as most spirits don't seem to realize that even though he's clever and resourceful, he is only mortal, and not all of their problems are suitable for a mortal to solve. Sins Of The Father - Crow's dad was a great hero back in the day, the legendary Red Hand, and Crow knows it. He's full of pride of that fact, but while he inherited a lot of his dad's resources and old contacts...he's also inherited a lot of his dad's enemies, as well as a great deal of expectation. Seventh Deadly Sin - Crow, although he is loath to admit it, is a very prideful person. He knows he's of a great lineage, his dad was a great hero, his mother's a goddess (though he doesn't like to talk about her), and his own exploits have gained him a small bit of renown in the Tuatha. Rack all that up, and while he might not have a swelled head, he could stand to learn a bit of humility. Rules of Red Hand - Crow always tries to live by the three rules taught by his father; "Enter into battle with joy", "Protect those who can't protect themselves", and "Never be afraid to fight dirty". To break one of those rules, entering into battle out of rage or recklessness, failure to protect someone, or not fighting smart, causes him a great deal of pain, as well as a distinct feeling of failure. PL: 7 (105) Abilities: 28 pp STR 16 (+3) (6 pp) DEX 18 (+4) (8 pp) CON 16 (+3) (6 pp) INT 10 (+0) (0 pp) WIS 14 (+2) (4 pp) CHA 14 (+2) (4 pp) Combat: 14 + 14 = 28PP ATK: +7 DEF: +7 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +7 Grapple: +10 Saves: 7 pp TOU +7 (+3 Con, +4 Defensive Roll) FORT +5 (+4 Con, +1) REF +7 (+4 Dex, +3) WILL +5 (+2 Wis, +3) Skills: 16 pp=64 r Acrobatics 1 (+5) Bluff 8 (+10) Gather Info 6 (+8)* Intimidate 10 (+12)* Languages 1 (Gaelic) (Base: English) Knowledge: History 5 (+5) Knowledge: Arcane Lore 6 (+6) Notice 10 (+12)* Sense Motive 10 (+12)* Stealth 8 (+4) Feats: 18 pp All-Out Attack, Beginner’s Luck, Defensive Attack, Defensive Roll 2, Evasion 2, Fearless, Improved Initiative, Luck, Move-By Action, Power Attack, Quick Change, Skill Mastery (Gather Info, Intimidate, Notice, Stealth) Startle, Stunning Attack, Takedown Attack, Uncanny Dodge (auditory), Powers: [8 pp] Device 2 "Runic Coat" (Hard To Lose) [10 DP] Runic Array [7+3=10 DP] Strike 4 "Rune of Earth" (Feats: Mighty, AP 3) AP: Healing 4 "Rune of Life" (PF: Regrowth, Flaws: Personal) AP: Concealment 4 "Rune of Fog" (Visual, Flaws: Partial) AP: Teleport 3 "Rune of Wind" (PF: Subtle, Turnabout, Flaws: Short-Range) Immunity 2 "Minor Rune of Protection" (Heat, Cold) DC Block: Attack Range Save Effect Unarmed DC 15 TOU (staged) Toughness Damage Earth Rune DC 22 TOU Toughness Damage Costs: Abilities 28 + Combat 28 + Saves 7 + Skills 16/64 + Feats 18 + Powers 8 = 105/105 pts
Raveled Posted January 29, 2011 Posted January 29, 2011 He's over caps. Right now he comes out closer to PL 10 than PL 7. I count 12 PP in saves, not 10, and 30 Feats. Fix that, and maybe I can help you more.
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