Name: Henry Broadburn
Age: 31
Appearance: Roughly 5' 10", Muscular, lean build, somewhat tanned. Golden blonde hair and startlingly sharp blue eyes. Short, scruffy goatee. Average sized mouth and slightly squat nose. Long, angular face, but not long enough to make his neck appear awkward. Long, lanky limbs, though when working with animals, he seems almost graceful. Long burn scar along left arm. Generally holds a cold, grim facial expression, though some say he lights up when he laughs (not literally of course).

Personality: Henry is an icy man. Given his history, he tends to see the bad sign of things. But as such, he is often more prepared than another person might be. He has no qualms about defending himself in the face of danger, though he's always tried to stay on the good side of the law. Generally very reserved, Henry does open up around people he knows well, and is often seen deep in conversation with a close friend while working. Henry is of mild intelligence, not too smart, but not stupid either. He takes great pleasure in caring for the animals especially, and treats them as he would treat his own family. He is terrified of large fires.

History: After his father ran out on the family, Henry, his brother Mitchell, and his mother moved into Boston in order for Mrs. Broadburn to earn more work. She took a job in a clothing factory, before a fire tragically killed everyone within. Henry and Mitchell went out into the country, working odd jobs for the locals, until Henry was 17. By now, they had ventured north into Vermont, and had been staying with an elderly farming family. Henry was struck by tragedy again when a cow knocked over an oil lantern and burned down the farmhouse, with his brother and the elderly couple inside. He spent the next few years on the rails, until he was miraculously accepted to a community college. Henry did work on Veterinary care, but never earned his degree, leaving instead to go work on a farm, because he felt the academic life was suffocating him. He joined the farm when he was 26, and has worked there ever since. He cares for the cows and horses mostly, but is the vet-in-charge for all the animals.

Speech Color: The magnificent blue 0054a6

Traits: Jockey +2, Medic +2, Horse Whisperer +3, Clumsy -1, Big-Eater -1

Name: Antonio "Scarecrow" Corvi

Age: 28

Appearance: Unsurprisingly, the farmhand nicknamed "Scarecrow" is notably skinnier than the rest. Scarecrow stands at a harmless 5'6, and has a frame that suggests he would blow away in a very strong wind. His face is gaunt and hollow, with pronounced cheekbones and an eyepatch where his left eye should be.

Though he divulges little information about his past, Scarecrow's ethnicity can usually be surmised by looking at his face -- He has a pronounced Roman nose, and thick, inky black hair that he usually keeps under his straw boater hat.

Like many of the farmhands, he has only one outfit; aside from his hat, he owns a collarless white shirt, a black vest, an old pair of brown slacks (He is quick to point out that they are Dickies) and a pair of black boots. During the colder months, Scarecrow wears a thick green sweater, though he keeps it stored away under his cot until September.

Personality: Scarecrow is charismatic, if nothing else. Nearly all of the farmhands consider him a friend, and for good reason. He tries to make himself available to help the other farmhands at all times, and tends to do favors for others without being asked. On cold nights he manages to procure spirits seemingly out of thin air, and on hot days he can usually be found passing out drinks to his fellow workers. His performing background is an occasional spectacle at the farm, and he sometimes performs magic tricks or other vaudevillian feats during work for little reason other than amusing his friends.

History: Scarecrow was born Antonio Corvi, in Brooklyn, New York. His father was a cobbler whose business faced extortion from several different crime families, to the point that he rarely broke even -- Hoping to escape constant shakedowns, eventually moved the family to Gainesville, Florida. During the journey, Antonio's father became ill with a fever, and died before they had reached Florida.

Hoping to save their only son, Antonio's mother sent him to live with her cousin Maria in California, purchasing him a train ticket with what little money she had saved. As fate would have it, this would be another destination he would be unable to reach. A lone teenager, Antonio mistakenly boarded the wrong train, and quickly found himself in Missouri.

Alone and penniless, Antonio wandered the streets in search of work for days, until he found a single opening. A travelling circus had stopped by the town, and they were in need of a ticket vendor. As Scarecrow has often repeated, this was "The only time being a guinea helped", as the circus was owned by "Senor Carlo Mancini", a full-blooded Sicilian. Antonio applied for the job and was hired instantly, thanks to Carlo's nationalism. Antonio rose through the ranks of the circus, performing all sorts of acts, though he preferred magic and sleight of hand tricks. Carlo became a father figure to Antonio, teasingly calling him "Scarecrow" for his gaunt frame and surname's translation, and openly weeping when his "bambino" left the circus to work on the farmstead.

Speech Color - Orange.

Traits: Showman +1, Bilingual +2, Quiet +2, Lucky +4, Cyclops -4

Name: Leonard "Leathers" Russell
Age: 33
Appearance: Standing at around 5'10 and of an average build, Leonard looks like your average farmhand at a glance. He possesses a pair of hard, brown eyes and short, sharp brown hair whilst he does his best to keep his jaw clean-shaven. His skin's been bronzed from years working out in the sun and the most obvious sign of injury from the war is the mess that is a discoloured wreath of twisted flesh caused by severe burns that runs up his left arm to his shoulder, neck and lower jaw, then down his back, earning him the derogatory nickname of "Leathers", something which he's since took on as a moniker to spite would-be commentators.

Leonard tends to wear a white working shirt with a pair of brown slacks and working boots. When it's cold, he also wears a denim jacket but otherwise goes without. At his side, he keeps a Colt New Service holstered on his belt, a personal effect he's seldom seen without.

Personality: From the get go, it's clear Leonard has little time to deal with other people's shit (especially stockbrokers) and prefers to see a job through rather than whine about it. He dislikes leaving a job half-done and would sooner work his fingers to the bone than cut corners as some might do in these times - another little trait he picked up from the army. He has a certain fondness for animals, particularly dogs and horses, and for a man of the time harbours no dislike or prejudice towards people of colour due to seeing them among the ranks of the American Expeditionary Force during the war, though he doesn't like Germans for obvious reasons and is ambivalent towards other foreigners.

Due to his time in the war and the experiences he went through, sudden, loud noises can startle him (which in turn makes him even more defensive) due to the memories of shelling and gunfire it resembles. As a consequence of this, he's found it difficult to function in the loud, cramped environment of the US industrial complex without relying on alcohol and instead prefers the hard, if relatively quiet work of life on the farmstead. He hates being around fire save when it's necessary (campfire on a freezing night, for instance) as a result of being burned in the war and a recurring nightmare is of being burned alive.

The only thing that can put his personal phobias aside is the consumption of alcohol, to which he's able to just function while under the influence. That aside, he also gives off an aura of a man who's constantly on his guard - something which contributes to his hard-nosed appearance and is related to the nightmare flashbacks he occasionally experiences. It's even rumoured among the ranch hands that he sleeps with a gun under his pillow. The only individual who he doesn't keep to himself around is his dog, a mongrel (that looks like a cross between a pit bull and a labrador) affectionally named "Petey" after an old war buddy.

History: Hailing from the docks of New York, Leonard learned to work with his hands from an early age yet yearned for something else and when the US became involved in the Great War, he lied about his age and enlisted whilst still underage. Yet his time overseas left him with the traumas that one would expect from a boy exposed to the horrors of the Western Front whilst still learning about the world. By the time he returned home, Leonard was a different man scarred both inside and out, and soon found the burden of returning to and living changing New York too great to bear and, like many other returning veterans, felt out of place in society. Struggling to function in the cramped, noisy environment of the docks or the American industrial complex, he headed out towards the rural areas and briefly wound up working with some bootleggers during the 20s when he found himself reliant on alcohol to function before a souring experience turned him back towards an honest lifestyle, where he made a living wherever he could, working with his hands and getting on with it as any other man would. By the time he was up in Eastport he'd grown accustomed to this life.

Speech Color: Green.
Traits:
Veteran +2
Sharpshooter +2
Farmhand +1
Quiet +2
Harry +1
Thick-skinned +1

Shellshocked -2
Addict -2 (To alcohol, at least when shit hits the fan)

Name: Abigail "Abbey" McHenry

Age: 26

Appearance: Abbey is an pretty looking young woman with dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes. She is pale skinned and of average build. She stands at 5'8'' and weights about 127 lbs. She has an oval face, a small nose and plump lips. She doesn't typically wear make-up unless she is going somewhere fancy, like to a show or to church. She is usually seen smiling as she has a gentle outlook on life. She typically wears dresses in either blue or pink and has sensible work boots she wears. When she goes out she wears fancier dresses in black or red and has women's flat shoes. Her hair is parted on the left side and is really long, but usually tied up. She does have bangs. Her ears are kind of big, bigger compared to everything else, she doesn't like that.

Personality: Abbey is a kind-hearted young woman with a soft spot for animals. She is kind and courteous to everyone she meets, but is naive to many things outside of the working farm life. In intense situations, she is strong-willed and driven, but only if the situation demands it. She enjoys learning and is very well read for a farm girl, having been taught to read and write. She enjoys the outdoors and loves strolling around when she is not working. She doesn't enjoy thunderstorms or bugs, despite her love of the outdoors and she doesn't enjoy eating many vegetables, she prefers fruits and grains most, and of course the occasional sweet. She also enjoys dancing in secret and has a habit of whistling while she works, because she enjoys listening to music on her off hours.

History: Abigail was born the only girl on the McHenry farmstead, and the youngest to boot. Her parents were happy to finally have a girl, but worried at the same time.

As Abigail grew older, she grew a fondness for the animals on her parent's farm. She loved milking the cows, gathering eggs from the chickens, and feeding the horses. While her brothers did the hard labor, she would do household chores for her mother, who was getting weaker. She did the cooking and cleaning, and whenever her brother's got injured she would fix them up. As her father would say "Even a minute not working can put us back."

Abigail also took to school and learning very well, reading a lot of books her parents bought her. Thinking nothing of it other than reading for fun, Abigail's interests grew outside of farming due to the stories she read.

As Abigail reached the age of 18, her parents wondered what to do about her. They wanted her to stay home, but they knew she would want to move on and get married, perhaps start her own farm with her husband. They tried setting her up with some young men in the area, but Abigail found them boring and dull. She wanted more in a husband.

Abigail heard of a farm needed help in Maine that needed farmhands for their work. Thinking she could make her own way there, she left home and traveled to Maine, where the Tackett family to see if they would hire her. She offered her skills with animals, medicine, cooking, and cleaning. This would be how she started her life.

Until the disease came.

Speech Color: This color

Traits: Intelligent - You are well-read and knowledgeable
Clean-Cut - You are attractive
Medic - You can perform first-aid such as stitching a wound
Weak - You are not as strong as most
Archer - You can effectively use a shortbow, longbow, or crossbow.

Name: William "Bill" Pooley

Age: 37

Appearance: On his best days, Bill Pooley resembles a large, shaved bulldog. His Anglo-Saxon skin is in a permanently fluctuating state of sunburn, and as a result, many farmhands call him "Pink Bill", though few are foolish enough to say it to his face. Rather than hide his baldness, he shaves his head every morning with a razor and can usually be seen scratching at a cut or scab on his scalp. A lifetime of brawling has given him a flat face, with an unsightly meatiness to his features -- His nose has been broken many times, his ears are cauliflowered, his lips appear to constantly be swollen, and his forehead is a visibly protruding ledge. In short, Bill Pooley has won few beauty pageants.

Although not especially short or tall he has a squat, muscular physique, and a neck that resembles a fleshy tree trunk. His shoulders are sloping and wide-set, and every inch of his flamingo-tinted skin seems to stretch over a block of muscle. The most notable part of Bill's physique, aside from his robustness, are his nearly baseball-glove sized hands.

Bill owns one pair of clothes -- A pair of blue jeans, work boots, and a cream-colored workshirt that seems two sizes too small. In the winter, he wears a denim jacket and a flat cap.

Personality: Bill's greatest redeeming quality is that he is a hard worker -- there is little else you can say about him for the better. He is aggressive and bullheaded, and thoroughly enjoys starting fights. He is a bully by nature, and though there are few men he wouldn't pick a fight with, he especially enjoys picking fights he knows he'll win. He is both racist and sexist, though this is largely because he enjoys following schools of thought that allow him to define himself as "superior" rather than any actual prejudice.

Aside from his lust for violence, Bill has a penchant for drinking, which acts (surprisingly) as a method of pacifying him. When inebriated, Bill is generally too giggly to seek out violence, though his cruel sense of humor and impolite disposition are too deeply ingrained in his personality to cull with liquor.

History: Bill was not born into wealth, but craved it from a young age. Hailing from Erie, Pennsylvania, Bill's upbringing is not at all surprising considering his demeanor. As a boy he was a schoolyard bully, and as a young man he was a common street thug. Though he lacked the higher thinking for large crimes, Bill spent most of his youth starting brawls in bars, making most of his living pilfering through the pockets of men he had beaten unconscious. Eventually, Bill was arrested and imprisoned for two years on assault charges, though his violent streak granted him another six years for the guards and prisoners alike he had assaulted during his stay in prison.

After being released at 29, he became a drifter, hopping from town to town in search of either drinks or work. Eventually he settled in Eastport, finding that the life of a farmhand required all of the muscle he had, and none of the brain power he was without.

Speech Color: Pink.

Traits: Boxer +1, Prize-Fighter +4, Hot-Headed -3, Racist -3, Slow -1

Name: Jack “Mad Jack” Campbell

Age: 38

Appearance: Height: 5’10”, Weight: 175lbs. He has brown hair with peppered grey throughout. He received a glasgow smile during the war. ( A cut that curls from the corner of the lips to the upper or lower cheek, upper in this case. ) He has brown eyes, and a bent nose. Broken from a fight. Low cheekbones and a square jaw. He often has a a few weeks worth of beard growth. He has large bags under his eyes, and crow's feet along the corners of his eyes.

Personality: Mostly a loner, though he often seeks the comfort of alcohol with a close group of friends. When he's not seeking solitude, he can be helpful often he puts on the facade of being cheerful and outgoing. He dislikes the loud people, and enjoys the company of books though he can hardly read. He also is fascinated by weapons and has a natural talent for shooting.

History: Jack grew up on a farm in Montana, he worked hard and was always outgoing. He never really got the opportunity to go to school due to having to stay home and work. He spent most of his time hunting when not working. He was one of three boys, the oldest. His mother died after the birth of his youngest sister Esmeralda. His father a devout man emeged himself in worship and work. Jack took most of the responsibility on the farm with his father allowing his brother and sister to go to school and get and education.

1914 war broke out, and he volunteered. And left the next week, his father was angry with him and never forgave him. Boot Camp was tough but he managed to plow through it. He was put into the infantry. He was the best shot in his platoon, and was made the designated marksman of the company. After three years America entered the war, and he fought across france and killed his own share of men. In a hand to hand skirmish, he was cut badly across the cheek. Later in the day his best friends were hit by enemy artillery. Being the last one left alive, he charged across the muddy field his bayonet fixed. narrowly being killed by bullets he landed in the trench and began to fight. He killed six of the germans and took the other eight as prisoners. Afterwards they gave him the moniker “Mad Jack” He survived battle after battle, and eventually was sent home when the war ended. He was numb on the inside, his father hated him still and his brother and sister didn’t recognize him. He left the service and helped out on the farm for another year before leaving and moving into the mountains.

He found that the thrill of the hunt was gone and it had become too easy. He stayed isolated only returning to town for a drink and to stock up on other essentials. He smoked a pack a day, and drank a fifth of liquor between two days. Though he could easily drink more. The following years he managed to get married which ended in divorce, he had two children with the woman. He started to work at a local copper mill. His family moved to Maine to be with her new lover, leaving him alone again. His life was colorless and his drinking increased. He spent most of his savings drowning out the darkness in his life.
Speech Color: Maroon
Traits: Veteran +1, Sharpshooter +2, Hunter +2, Shell Shocked - 2, Addict (Alcohol ) -2, Smoker -1

---

---

Name: David "Wolfie" Knapton

Age: 37

Appearance: Wolfie stands at roughly 6'1", towering above most of the farmhands. As per his nickname, he has fairly big muscles, probably due to his extensive army training and experience. He has short cut blonde hair, with a fringe that slightly hangs over his forehead, and deep green eyes. His skin has a slight tan to it, and there is a scar that runs from his right cheek to his chin.

David wears a plain white, mudstained shirt, with no collar and short sleeves. This is worn with a pair of dark khaki waterproof pants, dark brown trouser braces, and hard, black, leather boots. On a cold day he wears his army jacket with a dark green scarf.

Personality: Wolfie was effected by the war, definitely, but not in the way you'd think. It changed him drastically - his mental capacity broke down, and he created an almost split personality for himself. On the farmstead, he's shy, humble and silent, and just does the work that needs to be done. He barely interacts with any of the other farmhands, and the most you'll get out of him is a nod or a murmured grunt.

However, his "other personality" is quite the opposite. He's racist, reckless, hot-headed and smokes. A lot. He tends to switch to this personality when put into a state of panic or alarm, and you can often hear him shouting commands as if he were a soldier whilst he's sleeping. His traumatic experiences have really put him on edge.

History: Wolfie was born David Knapton in 1897 to Jack and Bess Knapton. He was always tall for his age, and towered above his peers all throughout life. He led a pretty ordinary life, attending a small village school as he grew up in the countryside. But, when he was ten, his father joined the army to go fight abroad. Three years passed, and his father was pronounced killed in action. However heartbroken Wolfie was, his mother urged him to do well in his education, as it's what his father would have wanted.

Years passed and Wolfie finished school with flying colours, before America declared war on Germany in 1917. Following in his father's footsteps, a now 20-year-old Wolfie signed up for the army, and went into the field of battle. What he thought would be a great experience, however, turned out to be Hell. He got an abusive general that screamed orders in his face, he had to sleep inside an oozing mudpit, while trying to drown out the sounds of gunfire and bombs, and almost got blew up while taking a crap.

David soon learned how to cope, however, and focused on winning the war. He stayed in the army long after that happened, however, and eventually left in 1929. However, the war did change him a lot, and with his newly found "split personality", Wolfie found more peaceful life on the Tackett Farmstead.

Speech Color: Dark Khaki

Traits:
Decorated +3
Sharpshooter +2
Medic +2
Motorist +2
Sprinter +2
Craftsman +1
Clean-Cut +1
Big +1
Farmhand +1
Hardy +1
Fisherman +1
Boxer +1
[Total = +18]

Racist -3
Reckless -3
Shell-Shocked -2
Hot-Headed -2
Churchgoing -2
Smoker -1
[Total = -13]

Name:
John L. Roberts

Age:
49

Appearance:
Standing at the reasonable height of five feet and nine inches, John is a lean man of pale skin and dark hair. His eyes are a dull gray-brown, not unlike two chips of flint, though they are somewhat distorted behind thick glasses. He keeps his raven-black hair well-maintained, though it is streaked with gray and beginning to bald. The true pride of John's appearance, of course, is the rather impressive goatee that he carefully trims and landscapes each day.

Perhaps even more striking than the facial hair to the first glance, however, is the pronounced limp with which he walks painfully -- a relic of the days of the Great War. He has a tendency to grimace and mutter under his breath with every few steps, but stalwartly reject any sort of assistance offered.

John usually dresses in simple clothing, porting in general jeans, a cotton shirt and practical boots under an old-fashioned brown duster.

Personality:
John is a somewhat gregarious man in general, fond of friends and lively conversation. He prefers to listen more often than he speaks as a general rule, but could not truly be described as solitary. Generous with his money when he still had it, he has since become a bit more closely-guarded.

John maintains a number of different dispositions dependent on the scenario -- if one were to find themselves waiting in the room with a loved one on the operating table, no doubt they would be surprised at the, well, surgicality (no pun intended) and solemnity with which John goes about the task. He takes to surgery as a man takes to breathing, as a habit more than a practice or a hobby.

History:
John Louis Roberts was born in Eastport, Maine in the year of 1885, to a reasonably wealthy family. His father had managed to distinguish himself a bit whilst fighting for the Union in the Civil War, and had since managed to hold down various odd-jobs as John's mother held down the home.

John led a rather normal, if perhaps not quite idyllic, life for the times. Always an intelligent boy, he exemplified a certain strong work ethic that propelled him to Harvard College at the age of eighteen, where John went into the medical practice. After graduating some years later, he acquired work at a Boston hospital.

John was thirty-two years old when America officially entered in to the Great War, and enlisted voluntarily despite being somewhat older than the average draftee. He managed to weasel his way into a position as a field medic after basic training, and proved to be rather good at it indeed. In early 1918, however, John took a number of bullets to the leg while attempting to retrieve an injured man from the battlefield and was himself rushed from the front-lines. He soon received medical leave and returned home, though not without his own share of shell-shock from working with men in various stages of death -- and nearly becoming one himself.

When John returned home he found himself traveling to his home-town of Eastport, where he established a reasonably successful medical practice -- tending in large part to various small check-ups, though with the occasional surgery that helped to keep his wits sharp. He managed to find himself on the good side of much of the town due to a number of factors, among them his veterancy; his generally amiable attitude; and the low costs which he charged for his services.

However, when the Great Depression reared its ugly head, John found that he perhaps should have charged a bit more after all. His meager savings lasted only about a year and a half before John was forced to sell his livelihood. Though it brought him considerable guilt, John cashed in his favors with a local well-off farmer -- and old friend via the local church -- by the name of Tackett. In exchange for providing general medical aid to farmhands and animals alike, John managed to secure himself a few hot meals a day and a roof over his head until he would be able to support himself once more -- which, with the advent of zombie apocalypse, perhaps will not be for some time more.

Speech Color:
Olive.

Traits:
Savant - John is a very skilled surgeon. - 5
Doctor - 4
Intelligent - 1
Local - 1
Veteran - 2

Churchgoing - -2
Bespectacled - -1
Lead-Footed - -2
Lame - -1
Shell-Shocked - -2