J.C. Beauregard

"God bless the CSA."


Agility d8, Smarts d10, Spirit d8, Strength d8, Vigor d8

Driving d4, Fighting d8, Intimidation d6, Knowledge (Law) d8, Knowledge (Occult) d6, Notice d6, Persuasion d4, Shooting d8, Taunt d6

Derived Statistics
Charisma: +2; Pace: 4; Parry: 6; Toughness: 6

Code of Honor: As expected of any upstanding member of the Ol’ Southern genteel.
Lame: A personal memento from his service in the Great War.
Obligations (Major): To many things, but more tangibly, to his family, his job, and the city of New Orleans.
Delusional (Minor): Beauregard has developed a certain degree of paranoia since the (successful) attempt on his life and his wife’s death.
Quirks (Minor): His upbringing has made him take on a patronizing, though rather paternal, attitude towards African Americans. Also, he is conscious about his appearance, particularly in keeping attention away from his complexion, and has a subtle distrust of taxis in general.

Comfortable: Beauregard has a stable job, and he also happens to be from a well-off family.
Old Money: Maybe not just well off…The Beauregards have been a prominent Louisiana family since the antebellum period.
Connections (NOPD): He collaborated extensively with the police for the near decade he spent working for the state, so he was bound to make at least one friend.
Harrowed: He was shot in the chest and thrown in the Mississippi, but at least he came back.
Veteran of the Concrete Jungle: Beauregard thought he’d seen a lot as a soldier and then as a prosecutor, but he’s encountered stranger things from moonlighting.
Marksman: Beauregard was a crack shot in the army. Since his unexpected death, he has been embracing the 2nd Amendment with greater enthusiasm.
Jack-of-All-Trades: Beauregard has a knack for naturally picking up on things over the course of his life.
Strong Willed: When you’ve been a soldier, a lawyer, and have come back from the dead, is it all that surprising?
Supernatural Traits: He returned from the dead, and he doesn’t intend to go back any time soon. Beauregard’s using a bit of the manitou’s supernatural oomph to make sure of it.


Pierre John Crawford Beauregard had a lot to his name, and a lot to live up to. He graduated from a certain Yankee law school before the Great War flared up on the other side of the Atlantic. But, when the CSA decided to get involved in ’17, he jumped on the chance to grab the same wartime glory his great-grandfather did. Two years later, he returned to New Orleans with a leg wound that never healed quite right and a newly found fire to curb corruption in the city. Resuming his practice as a state attorney, he took on the cases others were too afraid to touch, pushed prosecutions to actually make it to court, and prosecuted anyone from corrupt lawmen to mafia cronies. So it’s no surprise that he stepped on lots of unpleasant toes along the way.

Hailing a cab one night seven years ago, he opened the door and a bullet shot out. The assailants dumped his body into the Mississippi, and when he failed to show at the law firm for a few days, his then current case against a trafficker for the Black Hand fell through. Of course, it was a surprise when he returned a few weeks later, prim and proper as ever, if only a tad bit on the pale side. The story went that he left the city for his safety after a violent (and successful) attempt on his life, but he hardly made a ruckus out of it, for reasons of privacy he said. Regardless, he did redouble his efforts in his anti-corruption campaign, seeking higher-profile prosecutions, and even started eyeing the District Attorney’s seat. Then, only a few months later, his wife of fifteen years, died in a strange automobile “accident.” Beauregard learned his lesson the second time around. They got him, and he came back, but the same couldn’t be counted on for those he cared about. Just like with his incident, he strove to keep news of his wife’s death to a minimum, but instead of seeking righteous justice, he quietly resigned from his position and seemingly sunk into obscurity.

Beauregard has cooled off since his prosecuting days, keeping a tighter lip on his opinions of Louisiana politics. Now, he takes on less prominent, less dangerous work: (ironically) wills, estates and property settlements. Not exactly exciting stuff, but at least it pays the bills and then some. Of course, when he’s not looking at a bunch of dead folks’ property, he’s taken to moonlighting for an investigative agency as something of a legal consultant, among other duties. And it is only through the interesting circumstances the agency encounters that he justifies working with an upstart crew that he may otherwise have never…associated with.

J.C. Beauregard

Hard Boiled Omnificent