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Saturday, October 8, 2016

Sheriff Hank Settles

Concept: Scarred County Sheriff

AKA: Hank’s real first name is Henry.

Desc:  Hank is fairly tall. Iron-gray hair which he keeps relatively short. For a man as broad and heavy as he is, he is still fairly fit. He’s not overly muscled, but strong like a bear. He has a number of scars on his back, torso, and forearms. He has a Force Recon tattoo on his left arm.
He has a sprinkling of broken capillaries across the bridge of his nose. He isn’t one for a lot of facial expressions, but the fellas in the office have identified about nine different types of squints and their meanings. While he’s certainly capable of talking and multi-syllabic words, he tends to be fairly laconic. Law enforcement has taught him the value of letting the other fellow talk.

History: Fun Fact: Lots of cities have both a Metropolitan police force AND a sheriff’s department.  Sometimes it because there’s a division of labor. Sheriff’s departments being responsible at times for serving summonses, and occasionally for evictions.  In this town, however, it’s because the surrounding small towns that are within the county, but outside the metro corporate city limit, don’t have a police force of their own. (And that state of affairs is relatively common.)
  Hank’s personal story is pretty simple on paper. He was an all-state tailback. He served in the army with distinction and took his GI bill to a decent school with a fairly good Law Enforcement program. He had a thought that he might go off to the FBI someday.  And while he got good marks, the someday never came really.  He came home, and never really left.  This is where his family was, and all his friends.
  And so he stayed.  He got on with the deputy patrol and after he got fairly good at the gig, He ran for the office itself when Roy Conley retired.  He’s been serving ever since.
   What isn’t on paper is that Hank is Kinfolk.  He got those scars in battle and he knows some stuff and has seen some stuff.  This makes for someone in a high-level county law enforcement position who is frankly, unafraid of any human being he meets. When those bikers moved into Clearwater and seemed intent on setting up a meth factory, a few of their dudes went around and intimidated the mayor.  Clearwater’s mayor happened to be a cousin of Hank’s. So hank and his deputies went around there and arrested them, but not before beating the everliving fuck out of them.  There was a lot “aggravated resisting arrest” charges that night.  Since the county circuit judge was also a Kinfolk, those dudes went away for a very long time.  Other people got the message. Hank didn’t even have to call in a favor from the Uratha he knows.  Hank is as tough as woodpecker lips.

Attitude: “You see these tracks? You and Joey head back to the vehicle and post up there. I gotta make a phone call.”

Skills: He’s built like a bear and is pretty tough. He’s got some dots of Martial Arts Combatics that he got from the service and a couple of dots of Sniping. He’s been teaching himself Spetsnaz Style knife fighting too because he’s got a silver bowie knife strapped to his leg at all times.  He’s a got decent pile of dots salted into Investigation and Academics (He was a pretty decent student for the most part.) and a number of dots in Survival and Medicine (Camping trips all his young life, knows a medicinal herb or two.) He should probably have Unseen Sense: Shapeshifters (If you know some, you know what to look for.)  Mentally, he’s got more resolve than anything else, and socially he takes the hit but his Composure is solid iron.

Gear: Hank has the usual belt-load of stuff your average law enforcement professional carries that makes going to the bathroom such an involved process. Also, some kinfolk have their hooks into the manufacture of silver weapons, So he usually has a few shells for his shotgun that have silver shot.  Also, he’s acquired a few fragmentation grenades which he’s wrapped with silver wire. Such things rest quietly in a locked toolbox in the trunk of his vehicle.

Home: Hank has a nice little place up in the hills. One of those places with a ridiculous driveway that is at such an angle, that it’s impossible to get up if it’s raining,  4 wheel drive or no. It’s nice and comfy. Has a firearms workbench and a decent arsenal.  Hank isn’t a doomsday prepper or anything, but he’s got provisions, bottled water, medical supplies, and is thinking about digging an exit tunnel out towards the well. You know, just in case.

Circle: Hank is a fairly well-known fella. He’s active in his church. He’s a known name on both sides of the criminal divide and he’s considered a pillar of the Kinfolk community. Not bad for a fella who tends not to talk much.

Story Uses:

“Son, You are a mere human. I am NOT afraid of anything you can do...”
Hank can be problematical for anybody living out in the sticks who happens to be supernatural and is incapable of keeping it on the DL.  I’m not saying he’s going to hunt you for spite. But he might come around if you are causing problems.

“Well...You should have said so. Boys...Suit up.”
It is not outside the realm of the possible that Hank and the rest of the deputies might be willing to lend a hand if you can convince them you are on the side of the angels.


Connections:

* Hank has been looking into strange disappearance in a particular part of the county. Sheriff Conley did too. As did his predecessor.  One wonders if they are ever going to uncover Vuldorusss.
* Knows Robert Nathan Herbert. Has heard the scuttlebutt about his true affiliations. Thinks the guy might be a bit of a prick but it's not like they're actively burning crosses on anybody's lawns anymore.
* Has had to do missing person cases out near Whispering Hills Sanitarium. Sometimes they find them, a bit the worse for wear. Most times they don't. Hank knows the stories.
* Hank has better things to do than bust Teflon John Galloway every time he shows his dumb face. At least, that's what he tells him every time. If it weren't for the fact that Byers and Foreman enjoy a little herbal refreshment...Well...

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