[center][b][i]Name:[/i][/b] 
Rogh Hill

[i][b]Alias:[/b][/i] 
The Lucky Bastard

[b][i]Age:[/i][/b] 
29

[i][b]Gender:[/b][/i] 
Male

[i][b]Race:[/b][/i] 
Human

[i][b]Appearance:[/b][/i]
Rogh is a rather tall man, standing at just about 1 meter and 92 centimeters. He has fairly long, messy, black hair which leads just about down the shoulders. A bit of a stubble is forming on his chin, but it doesn't seem to grow past that. Across the right side of his lip is a small scar that looks like it might've torn it in half at one point, but has long since healed. He's a little on the orange side in terms of skin but manages to just not be. His normally green and gray eyes are covered by a leathery brown cowboy head he keeps on all the time. His clothes consist of a pre-war white shirt, some pretty neat brown pants and a long, black overcoat that leads all the way down to his knees. His shoes consist of practical boots, though they look like they've seen some wear and tear.

[b][i]Primary Skills:[/i][/b] 
Small Guns, Sneak, Lockpick

[i][b]SPECIAL:[/b][/i] 
[b]Strength:[/b] 1.
[b]Perception:[/b] 7
[b]Endurance:[/b] 2
[b]Charisma:[/b] 7
[b]Intelligence:[/b] 5
[b]Agility:[/b] 8
[b]Luck:[/b] 10!

[b]Gear/inventory:[/b] 
He has three stimpacks, a .44 Magnum Revolver with exactly 42 bullets, his black coat, a desperado hat and a whole lot of bobby pins and caps.

[b]History:[/b] 
Rogh's a gambling man. A betting man. A risky man. His whole life in the wastes he's been doing nothing but enter casinos and getting kicked out for his winning streaks, surviving dangerous encounters by eerily convenient means and once staring a deathclaw right in the eye, somehow managing to get far enough away from it. It's been a wild ride for the guy and didn't look to be letting up any time soon. He's picked up the habit of flipping pre-war coins to go wherever, having realized that his luck would probably set him on the right path. It didn't take long for him to learn he was the luckiest person on the planet, not with those encounters. His habit of flipping coins paid off time and time again, until a wanderer went up to Rogh and started a conversation. They told the man about Florida, and how he should never, ever go there. His reply, was this: [color=8dc73f]"Well, pardner... We'll flip a coin, both of us. Either land on heads, I'll stay. But with tails..."[/color] Rogh had warned the man, who didn't have a coin on him. Rogh lent him one.

The results? Two tails. [/center]