Azereiah — Roleplayer Guild

Name= Samwell McAlister

Age= 31

Looks (picture optional)= A tall, blonde gentleman, standing at 6'2", with dull green eyes. He's not particularly powerful looking, but he carries himself confidently, as though he could rip a man's head off with a single blow. His face is square, with a chiseled jawline and a goatee with a thin moustache. He generally dons fancy clothing, preferring black pinstripe pants, a red dress shirt, and a black tuxedo vest, with a pair of circular sunglasses sitting upon the bridge of his nose. His dislike of dirt and dust has led him to often also wear a pair of black leather driving gloves.

Personality= He has a rather unusual way of doing things. Most wastelanders will tell you that you can't go without a gun, but he'll tell you that a gun's totally unnecessary. Of course, that may just be because he wants you to be unarmed as soon as possible, so he can run off with all of your caps and belongings without having to worry about being chased by bullets. Somehow, most normal people just inherently like the man - at least, until he does something wrong. Because of this habit, he's been wandering for years, from place to place, getting himself in trouble in every town possible in every way possible short of violent crime. Aside from his habit of collecting peoples' junk, he seems to be a genuinely good person, and often makes sizable donations to those in need.

-Chaotic Good

Faction= N/A - Wastelander and wanderer.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L= (42 Points spread wisely. Cannot go over 10 on any one stat)
Strength- 3
Perception- 4
Endurance- 4
Charisma- 10
Intelligence- 5
Agility- 6
Luck- 10

Backstory=A little-known theater actor from the New Vegas strip, on the run after being caught cheating at every single game in every single casino.As a child, he was born in the wilderness and promptly abandoned, because his parents were engaged in FORBODEN LUV, as members of the West Coast Enclave and the NCR military. He was raised from birth by a pack of Yao Guai in the Zion area, where he learned from his guardian beasts the fine arts of science, engineering, art, gunplay, wordplay, burglary, cooking, and Chinese Kung-Fu. Upon his twentieth birthday, he was to enter into a ritual of manhood - he must singlehandedly devour a Deathclaw. Alive and whole. And he succeeded with flying colors upon his first attempt - bones and dead mutant salamander bits everywhere, and blood upon his face. Still hungry, he followed up with a nice spinach casserole baked via rocket stove in his cave. It was deliciously cheesy. Sadly, he had no income, and his Giant Mantis parents started charging him rent, so he was kicked out with all of his possessions to find a place in the world.

As a wanderer, he hired himself out as a mercenary, making great use of the incredible skills in Taekwondo his family had gifted him with during his larval stage. Until a certain job. The pay was high - several millions of caps, all for the simple task of killing every man, woman, and child in the city of New Reno. He set forth and accomplished his task handily, breaking necks left and right and leaving not a single mobster or hooker alive. He fell into a depression shortly thereafter, and wasted all of his newfound fortune of two thousand caps self-medicating with chems and alcohol as he mourned being kicked out of his high-rise home by his wolf guardians in Canada. At least, until his dad appeared and beat the sadness out of him with a set of jumper cables.

Now, he wanders the American wasteland, spending his days lying about his backstory to anybody who asks, and liberating small fortunes from their owners. A few 'borrowed' cars along the way, and he's now made his way to the East Coast.

Weapon choice= An M1928 Thompson Submachinegun, a switchblade, and a jury rigged pair of black leather gloves with copper cables leading from the fingertips to a microfusion cell. 
Any other info not included in the above= Bluff skill is through the roof. Mediocre to bad at most other things, but able to at least act things out.
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