Mystery of Atlantis
“Baby, can you read minds? No? That’s good, ‘cause my
thoughts are too dirty for that pretty ass of yours! <hic>“
He smells of urine and vomit—possibly his own—
and wears a dirty leather duster over his wide, squat frame. Both
of his chins are covered in stubble, and he has bloodshot eyes
and breath that could jumpstart a drive engine. His grin shows
nasty, yellow teeth.
Roleplaying: Kline is a drunkard and is constantly trashed,
slurring his words. He’ll stumble on occasion or barf a little
while talking. He’s a model of the uncouth and always says the
wrong thing at the wrong time.
Personality: Kline doesn’t care about others’ opinions of him;
he jettisoned pride long ago.
Motivation: He will do what it takes to get that next drink. He’s
only looking out for himself, but underneath his anguished liver
is a heart of gold.
Background: Kline knows just about everyone, and his nearpermanent
presence in the bars gives him access to unfettered
information that he barters for drinks. He’s a decent fence and
has solid contacts—the drunkard persona is a bit of a gag on his
part. Mostly, no one pays him any mind, but he is sometimes
hauled in for questioning by the local authorities. He has a
nice nest egg stashed away for a rainy day. Kline knows a bit
about everything and is the perfect point man to disseminate
opportunities that he’s overheard.
Traits: (DM) Criminal, focal, notorious