[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/fguI9Wll.jpg[/img][/center]
[center][i]"Stop starin' at me with them stupid eyes a-yours."[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Name[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]Wilheim Donelly Sullivan[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Age[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]63[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Height[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]5'11"[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Weight[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]173 lbs[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Role[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]Ordinary Citizen.[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Notoriety Level[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]0%, No Guard Alert.[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Powers[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]No. Bad.[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]Chosen Fate[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]He's not having any of that.[/i][/center]
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[center][h3][color=lightgray][b]History[/b][/color][/h3][/center]
[center][i]Wilheim's a whaler. Damn good one too. He used to be out there raising up the bigguns day in and day out. However, after Dunwall started spiraling down into the shitter, he and his fellow sailors began seeing less and less work thanks to fear of the plague reaching foreign waters. Now that his job has been put on a complete hold for the time being, he's settled back into his unsightly hovel in John Clavering Boulevard, where he scrounges up a living by reeling hagfish out of the local waters and doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. It's not pretty, and the immediate area can be somewhat dangerous, but he gets by just fine.[/i][/center]