Annie Carlisle AKA Owain Lewis

Young woman in her late teens to early twenties, dresses in smart but worn clothes

Description:

Mental Traits

Cognition 4d8

Search 1

 

Knowledge 1d10

Area Knowledge (…) 2

Disguise 3

Language (English) 2

Professional: Photographer 3

 

Mien 2d8

Performin': Actin' 3

 

Smarts 3d6

 

Spirit 2d10

Guts 3

 

Corporeal Traits

Deftness 1d6

Shootin': Pistol 3

 

Nimbleness 2d12

Climbin' 1

Dodge 3

Fightin': Brawlin' 2

Horse Ridin' 1

Sneak 1

Swimmin' 1

 

Strength 4d6

 

Quickness 4d10

 

Vigour 3d8

 

Edges

Contortionist (1)

Fate's Favoured (3)

Hidin' (3)

Luck O' the Irish (5)

The Voice: Mimic (1)

 

Hindrances

Curious (3)

Loyal (3)

Wanted (2)

 

Stun Threshold: 12

Pace: 12

Size: 6(5)

Wind: 18

Bio:

Owain grew up in a small town. The third son in a large family he developed an interest in photography when a fair came to town and a reporter accompanied by a photographer came to cover the show. His father bought him some basic equipment and he began to take photos of people in the town. He quickly got bored and decided to travel to find more interesting subjects to photograph. Following the trip through Hell, Owain Lewis was revealed to actually be a woman named Annie Carlisle who had faked a male identity to gain respect in her profession.

Worst Nightmare
It seems to start as a normal, if somewhat boring day. I’m in what seems to be a small, non-descript, same as every other town. It’s a sunny day, with a slight breeze and I’m heading out to photograph a wedding. I don’t do them much anymore and I can’t quite remember how I got roped into this one, in fact I can’t really remember who the people are but I figure I agreed to it and I certainly feel like I have to go. The group are waiting outside the Church so I guess I’ve missed the actual ceremony, not that this worried me, most preachers aren’t that fussed on photographers in Churches. What’s strange is that there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around, just five of them. Well, it makes my job easier, not having to group people and all of that. The group don’t say anything as I approach, in fact they don’t seem to notice me. As I reach them, one, an older gentleman, looks to me and then back to the group -“let’s get this done then” The bride and groom stand in the centre, neither looking full of joy as I would expect but maybe it’s a shotgun wedding, I’ve photographed a few of those. I take one photo and the same gentleman tells me that that’s enough, they’ll collect the photograph tomorrow and they leave. I sudden;y feel uneasy, this is not like any wedding I’ve photographed before and there’s something odd about the group, nothing I can put my finger on but definitely something. I almost follow the group but something stops me, it’s as though the air around them is thicker?! I walk towards a building behind me, I know where I’m going and yet I don’t recognise it. It seems to be an unoccupied house, just off the main street, I go in and walk down to the basement where there is an ad-hoc dark room. I set up my equipment and get ready to develop teh photograph, why only one, most people want more incase they don’t come out, the group certainly looked like they could afford more. As the photo is developing I feel the air thickening around me, logic tells me that it must be musty air here in the basement but….. that odd feeling again. As I hang the photo up and watch it developing the feeling intensifies and there seems to be a crackle in the air, I see the photo developing and feel a rising panic as the figures form on the page, four of the group appear, on first appearance normal, except that their skin isn’t quite right, almost as though it has slipped slightly. I feel a scream building up as the the fifth figure appears, his skin has a mottled appearance, as though rotting, his eyes seem to have fallen from the sockets and are hanging on his emaciated cheeks. As the scream escapes I smell a smell of rotting meat and hear a movement close behind me……. I wake up

Annie Carlisle AKA Owain Lewis

Something Wicked This Way Comes... veeski