Day 03: Selma Quarnbeck, Marked Hunter (for Black Powder & Brimstone)

The third character is a hunter, based on Carl Maria von Weber's Der Freischütz, and The Black Rider (the play and Tom Waits' music for same). 

Class: Bounty Hunter (Master Trapper) 

Strength: 0

Agility: +1

Presence: +2

Toughness:-1

HEALTH: 7 

Guilder: None

To find and make traps is Presence +2. Setting up a trap takes one round. 

You start with: Two bear traps, Ten caltrops, Shovel, Hunter’s Knife d4, Large heavy net, Jar of bees, Jar of sleep gas, Rope 100ft

The Black Huntsman’s Rifle

When you use this rifle roll 1d6

1-3: The rifle does 1d10+2

4: You choose the damage done, up to a maximum of 12.

5: The rifle does 1d10+2 damage, half to the target and half to you. 

6: The Black Hunter (GM) decides where the bullet goes, and how much damage it does. No cap. No mercy. 

As a youth you weren’t much of a hunter, which meant that you were a wallflower at best, and a target of cruelty and scorn at worst. You bore it.That was until you met Sofiya the game keeper’s daughter. She was funny, curious, and did not mind that you could not hit the broad side of a barn, let alone a mallard in flight. Her father was another matter. You asked for her hand in marriage. He laughed. Then he spat.

Your heart broke, and one night you found yourself in Wolf’s Hollow, waiting for Samiel, the one that some call the Black Huntsman. He appeared as a handsome man with a clubfoot. Samiel offered you his rifle, but warned you: ”some shots are for thee, and some are for me”.

With the Huntsman’s dark blessing you could not miss a shot. Sofiya’s father changed his tune, and you were engaged. You and Sofiya were out hunting one beautiful autumn day, and you had a twelve point buck in your sights - a perfect gift for your father in law. You pulled the trigger, and sulfur stung your nostrils. The bullet took wild flight, as if it had a mind of its own. It did not hit the buck, but sweet Sofiya’s head. There was a braying peal of laughter as the pines were painted with her blood and brains.  

You understood Samiel’s warning too late. There was only to weep. Weep and run. 

You haven’t seen your home for almost twenty years. There is no rest for you. You hire yourself out as a hunter of ogres and devils. ¨You mostly do traps, but sometimes you need the rifle.

Maybe it is possible to fight fire with fire. Maybe the next bullet has your name on it.