» Fri Apr 19, 2013 6:11 am War, War Never Changes. Time and time again it has stood proven correct. This was especially true for the Mojave Wasteland, the Courier, armed with an armada of Securitrons began his rule of "peace" with the aid of Yes-Man. This however came after his brutal acts of violence in a never ending search for "aid." He came and ignited the fires for the immense and brutal conflict. Joshua Graham's and Daniel's Gang, they came, returning from their triumphant butchery of the White Legs, pouring out in every direction. The Legion saw this and used it as their opportunity for vengeance against their old Legate, Graham and the Dead Horses were assaulted in the "Battle of the Salt." The City of the great Salt Lake was a warzone, a battlefield claimed by any and all who dared to lay claim to it, and we were one of them. We thrived, made a kingdom for our gang. Then the Courier came with his army, decimating the remnants of the leaderless Dead Horses he'd once called friends, Caesar's Legion had marked him for death, but this time it was the Courier who brought death and destruction to them. The City was "pacified" and the Courier's army returned home. This would be their last battle however, they spontaneously shut down, either as a glitch in their programming or a fail safe by the now deceased Mr. House. His army is non existent, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. We're coming for you Courier, we're coming. Everyone will know our name, The Clave.
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This RP is a faction RP being run by Me (Yes Man FTW) and Fisheye98 you will control a character in the Raider Company known as the Clave that will eventually plan on disposing of the most powerful man in the wastes "The Courier." You will start in Salt Lake City, now known as "Salt" and will attempt to go to the Mojave.
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CS Format:
Spoiler
Name:
Race:
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Appearance:
Moral Alignment:
Personality (you must fill this in.)
Role in the Clave: (Ex: Quartermaster, Sniper, Energy Weapon Specialist, Etc.) (Essentially Class, but there shouldn't be three CQC Specialists...)
Non-Combat Skills:
Combat:
Stealth:
Weapons:
Apparel:
Armor:
Miscellaneous:
Background:
Name:
Race:
Gender:
Height:
Age:
Appearance:
Moral Alignment:
Personality (you must fill this in.)
Role in the Clave: (Ex: Quartermaster, Sniper, Energy Weapon Specialist, Etc.) (Essentially Class, but there shouldn't be three CQC Specialists...)
Non-Combat Skills:
Combat:
Stealth:
Weapons:
Apparel:
Armor:
Miscellaneous:
Background:
Alternate Format:
Spoiler
Name:
Gender:
Age:
Appearance:
Personality:
Skills:
Role in the Clave/specialization:
Weapons:
Apparel (includes armor):
Other items:
History:
Name:
Gender:
Age:
Appearance:
Personality:
Skills:
Role in the Clave/specialization:
Weapons:
Apparel (includes armor):
Other items:
History:
Accepted Sheets
Spoiler
Yes Man FTW (GM) - Leader - John "Dutch" Williamson
Yes Man FTW (GM) - Leader - John "Dutch" Williamson
Spoiler
Name: John "Dutch" Williamson
Race: Caucasian/White
Gender: Male
Height: 6ft 2in
Age: 41
Appearance: http://hdwallpapersbase.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/john_marston_by_dukstheartist-.jpg
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: Caring, but not to be trifled with, almost always believes he is right, ruthless with threats, if you threaten him expect sarcasm and a shot to the knee to follow. Do not threaten his gang, they are his family. Killing his family will cause the same harm to befall your own.
Role in the Clave: Leader, his word is law.
Non-Combat Skills: Threats come second nature. He sprints really fast.
Combat: Extremely well versed in the use of ballistics. He can slice with a Bowie Knife absurdly fast. His skills
Weapons:
"Bill" A pistol styled after old flintlock pistols is fastened inside his old duster, it is his signature weapon and being killed by it should be considered an honor, it carries around four shots in its
"Buck" A new lever action shotgun with modified iron sights, the words "Back in business" are engraved in a thick, sharp mannerism on the right side, whilst the left has an old eagle engraved on it, and it bears a black finish.
"Tybalt" a remarkably well kept .45 Auto Pistol, it bears a white hilt.
"Rebecca and Cherry" two Bowie knives, Rebecca has an engraving of "Never Again" on the blade and "Dutch is Back" on it. Whilst Cherry has "Reserved: Courier Six on one side, and "I'm coming for you" on the other.
Apparel: http://reddead.wikia.com/wiki/Duster_Coat?file=Rdr_john_marston01.jpg
Armor: A Kevlar Vest is located under his duster.
Miscellaneous: He wears an old NCR dog tag around his neck with an engraving of "No more" etched into it.
Background: "Dutch" was born into a small military family in California, but he was placed in an orphanage in Salt Lake City and abandoned by his family. The only thing that belongs to the family he owns is the dog tag, it was often mentioned that his father had Dutch ancestry, and the nickname stuck. The orphanage turned into a gang recruitment site, boys and girls turned to the only authority they could find in that hell-hole. Dutch joined up with some of "Walton's Boys" immediately. It was here that he left the sanctuary of the orphanage and began robbing, stealing, murdering, and pillaging in the name of "Walton." He was never one for making his presence known in the gang, but that all came crashing down when he was around 24 NCR Troopers swarmed the gang and left only remnants of it alive, luckily Dutch was one of them. He took over as the leader of the newly named “Clave”, anyone who disputed it was shot down.
“Dutch” made a living in Salt Lake City by running gambling dens, drug rings, and drug deals, often in the same room. This quickly earned the Clave massive profits and saw their influence expanding, however things turned bitter in a deal with the Omertas who’d tried to deal in Dutch’s house. He shot immediately, causing a long feud with the Family. Their sabotage of the strip failed due to the Courier, this was the only time he’d been considered helpful to the Clave. After years of this pattern he found himself living the high life shortly before the attack that changed everything.
Fisheye98 (GM) - Second in CommandName: John "Dutch" Williamson
Race: Caucasian/White
Gender: Male
Height: 6ft 2in
Age: 41
Appearance: http://hdwallpapersbase.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/john_marston_by_dukstheartist-.jpg
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: Caring, but not to be trifled with, almost always believes he is right, ruthless with threats, if you threaten him expect sarcasm and a shot to the knee to follow. Do not threaten his gang, they are his family. Killing his family will cause the same harm to befall your own.
Role in the Clave: Leader, his word is law.
Non-Combat Skills: Threats come second nature. He sprints really fast.
Combat: Extremely well versed in the use of ballistics. He can slice with a Bowie Knife absurdly fast. His skills
Weapons:
"Bill" A pistol styled after old flintlock pistols is fastened inside his old duster, it is his signature weapon and being killed by it should be considered an honor, it carries around four shots in its
"Buck" A new lever action shotgun with modified iron sights, the words "Back in business" are engraved in a thick, sharp mannerism on the right side, whilst the left has an old eagle engraved on it, and it bears a black finish.
"Tybalt" a remarkably well kept .45 Auto Pistol, it bears a white hilt.
"Rebecca and Cherry" two Bowie knives, Rebecca has an engraving of "Never Again" on the blade and "Dutch is Back" on it. Whilst Cherry has "Reserved: Courier Six on one side, and "I'm coming for you" on the other.
Apparel: http://reddead.wikia.com/wiki/Duster_Coat?file=Rdr_john_marston01.jpg
Armor: A Kevlar Vest is located under his duster.
Miscellaneous: He wears an old NCR dog tag around his neck with an engraving of "No more" etched into it.
Background: "Dutch" was born into a small military family in California, but he was placed in an orphanage in Salt Lake City and abandoned by his family. The only thing that belongs to the family he owns is the dog tag, it was often mentioned that his father had Dutch ancestry, and the nickname stuck. The orphanage turned into a gang recruitment site, boys and girls turned to the only authority they could find in that hell-hole. Dutch joined up with some of "Walton's Boys" immediately. It was here that he left the sanctuary of the orphanage and began robbing, stealing, murdering, and pillaging in the name of "Walton." He was never one for making his presence known in the gang, but that all came crashing down when he was around 24 NCR Troopers swarmed the gang and left only remnants of it alive, luckily Dutch was one of them. He took over as the leader of the newly named “Clave”, anyone who disputed it was shot down.
“Dutch” made a living in Salt Lake City by running gambling dens, drug rings, and drug deals, often in the same room. This quickly earned the Clave massive profits and saw their influence expanding, however things turned bitter in a deal with the Omertas who’d tried to deal in Dutch’s house. He shot immediately, causing a long feud with the Family. Their sabotage of the strip failed due to the Courier, this was the only time he’d been considered helpful to the Clave. After years of this pattern he found himself living the high life shortly before the attack that changed everything.
Spoiler
Reserved
Vandy The Beast - Scout - Darius BarrettReserved
Spoiler
Name: Darius Barrett
Race: Ghoul, African American before ghoulificatoin.
Gender: Male
Height: 6 foot
Age : 50 (Could Change depending on what year the RP takes place)
Appearance: Darius is not very remarkably built. His looks well fed and strong, but is not able to solve problems with sheer force. His dark, decaying skin is completely missing in some place leaving his muscle clearly visible in those palce. He has no hair on his head, and the left side of his forehead is missing its skin. His nose has completely decayed off and the right side of his upper lip has a nasty looking scar. His left bicep down to the top of his left hand is only visible muscle. Before ghoulification, he had a Great Khans tattoo that has been left ruined by his decaying skin.
Moral Alignment: Neutral (Mercenary)
Personality: Darius is a greedy man with a gambling problem as well as a smoking and alchol addiction. Some people have said that he is more of an ass when he is sober than when he has a bottle in his hand. Even so, he tries to get along with the people that he is working with and is quick to make friends. Loyalty is a priority to Darius. He believes that whoever he is working for will make the right decisions and therefore is not the greatest leader in the world when he is outside of battle. However, if Darius is betrayed he will not rest until he gets revenge. An eye for an eye is one of Darius' favorite mottos and he will follow that motto to his grave.
Role in the Clave: Mercenary and scout.
Non-Combat Skills: Darius is a good lockpick and hunter. His speech and barter skills are bad, making him a bad negotiator. He can also cook and make moonshine (you know, if that means anything to you guys.)
Combat: Darius is a good shot with guns. His energy weapons skills are off, and he can't really fight with melee weapons. He likes to keep his distance from his enemies and prefers shootouts to brawls. He is also good at handling explosives.
Stealth: As a scout, Darius can be very good at slipping in and out of situations undetected. He can get into enemy camps and stealing their supplies, or just blowing them up.
Weapons: Scoped hunting rifle painted crimson red that he calls Ole Crimson. A 9mm pistol painted gold that he calls Heart Stopper.
Apparel: Darius wears a black suit with a white shirt and bright red tie. He also wears black dress shoes to go along with his suit. The right pant leg of his suit has a long rip starting just under his knee. He keeps his holster for his pistol hidden under his suit jacket and slings his rifle over his back.
Armor: Darius wears no armor into battle and instead just wears his suit with a few leather pads added on his shoulders and knees.
Miscellaneous: Well, he has the voice of a ghoul.
Background: Darius grew up as a Great Khan and became a full warrior by the time he was 15. His parents died in a raid when he was ten so he had to live in the Khan society without any parents (not like they were really there for him in the first place anyway.) He started smoking when he was thirteen and drinking when he became a warrior.
Darius killed his first person when he was 16 years old during his first raid on an NCR caravan. He shot the man from a distance, saving another Khan that would have died. He was congradulated and rewarded by a bottle of whiskey and a girl his age. Needless to say, he slept well that night.
At 19 he decide that the Khans were getting weak after the battle of Bitter Springs (that can change depending on when the RP takes place.) He became a bounty hunter and made a name for himself by working for the Omertas. He kept his loyalty to the Khans and refuesed any jobs to harm them, even when one came from the Omertas. He refused the job offer by shooting an Omerta in the head and stealing his suit.
At 25 he got extreme radiation poisioning while on a job to kill an NCR Colonel stationed at Camp Searchlight. When the Legion radiation bomb went off, he fainted and awoke as the Ghoul he is today. He failed his mission. This unfortunate event brought about his gambling problem. He decided that he would visit the Tops Casino and throwing all his caps away thinking his life was already ruined. Instead he won 2000 caps and spent it on enough booze to keep him drunk for months.
When the Courier won the battle of Hoover Dam and destroyed the Great Khans (will change if that didn't happen) he wandered the wastes for years, taking odd jobs knowing that he could not defeat the Courier and his army alone. When he reached the Salt, he was attacked by a group of 10 raiders. After killing half of them, the boss stopped the firefight and offered Darius a place in the gang, it was called the Clave. He told the leader that he would agree on three conditions, that the booze was good, the caps were real, and the other members were more threatening than the one he killed.
Now the Clave is promising to go after the Courier and his army, winning the loyalty of Darius and making him respect the people in charge. He has become an important member of the Clave and would now die for the people that are part of it. He hopes that it will one day become strong enough to actually defeat the Courier, but knows that it will take a long time of planning and recruiting.
LizSummers - Sniper - Selena RodriguezName: Darius Barrett
Race: Ghoul, African American before ghoulificatoin.
Gender: Male
Height: 6 foot
Age : 50 (Could Change depending on what year the RP takes place)
Appearance: Darius is not very remarkably built. His looks well fed and strong, but is not able to solve problems with sheer force. His dark, decaying skin is completely missing in some place leaving his muscle clearly visible in those palce. He has no hair on his head, and the left side of his forehead is missing its skin. His nose has completely decayed off and the right side of his upper lip has a nasty looking scar. His left bicep down to the top of his left hand is only visible muscle. Before ghoulification, he had a Great Khans tattoo that has been left ruined by his decaying skin.
Moral Alignment: Neutral (Mercenary)
Personality: Darius is a greedy man with a gambling problem as well as a smoking and alchol addiction. Some people have said that he is more of an ass when he is sober than when he has a bottle in his hand. Even so, he tries to get along with the people that he is working with and is quick to make friends. Loyalty is a priority to Darius. He believes that whoever he is working for will make the right decisions and therefore is not the greatest leader in the world when he is outside of battle. However, if Darius is betrayed he will not rest until he gets revenge. An eye for an eye is one of Darius' favorite mottos and he will follow that motto to his grave.
Role in the Clave: Mercenary and scout.
Non-Combat Skills: Darius is a good lockpick and hunter. His speech and barter skills are bad, making him a bad negotiator. He can also cook and make moonshine (you know, if that means anything to you guys.)
Combat: Darius is a good shot with guns. His energy weapons skills are off, and he can't really fight with melee weapons. He likes to keep his distance from his enemies and prefers shootouts to brawls. He is also good at handling explosives.
Stealth: As a scout, Darius can be very good at slipping in and out of situations undetected. He can get into enemy camps and stealing their supplies, or just blowing them up.
Weapons: Scoped hunting rifle painted crimson red that he calls Ole Crimson. A 9mm pistol painted gold that he calls Heart Stopper.
Apparel: Darius wears a black suit with a white shirt and bright red tie. He also wears black dress shoes to go along with his suit. The right pant leg of his suit has a long rip starting just under his knee. He keeps his holster for his pistol hidden under his suit jacket and slings his rifle over his back.
Armor: Darius wears no armor into battle and instead just wears his suit with a few leather pads added on his shoulders and knees.
Miscellaneous: Well, he has the voice of a ghoul.
Background: Darius grew up as a Great Khan and became a full warrior by the time he was 15. His parents died in a raid when he was ten so he had to live in the Khan society without any parents (not like they were really there for him in the first place anyway.) He started smoking when he was thirteen and drinking when he became a warrior.
Darius killed his first person when he was 16 years old during his first raid on an NCR caravan. He shot the man from a distance, saving another Khan that would have died. He was congradulated and rewarded by a bottle of whiskey and a girl his age. Needless to say, he slept well that night.
At 19 he decide that the Khans were getting weak after the battle of Bitter Springs (that can change depending on when the RP takes place.) He became a bounty hunter and made a name for himself by working for the Omertas. He kept his loyalty to the Khans and refuesed any jobs to harm them, even when one came from the Omertas. He refused the job offer by shooting an Omerta in the head and stealing his suit.
At 25 he got extreme radiation poisioning while on a job to kill an NCR Colonel stationed at Camp Searchlight. When the Legion radiation bomb went off, he fainted and awoke as the Ghoul he is today. He failed his mission. This unfortunate event brought about his gambling problem. He decided that he would visit the Tops Casino and throwing all his caps away thinking his life was already ruined. Instead he won 2000 caps and spent it on enough booze to keep him drunk for months.
When the Courier won the battle of Hoover Dam and destroyed the Great Khans (will change if that didn't happen) he wandered the wastes for years, taking odd jobs knowing that he could not defeat the Courier and his army alone. When he reached the Salt, he was attacked by a group of 10 raiders. After killing half of them, the boss stopped the firefight and offered Darius a place in the gang, it was called the Clave. He told the leader that he would agree on three conditions, that the booze was good, the caps were real, and the other members were more threatening than the one he killed.
Now the Clave is promising to go after the Courier and his army, winning the loyalty of Darius and making him respect the people in charge. He has become an important member of the Clave and would now die for the people that are part of it. He hopes that it will one day become strong enough to actually defeat the Courier, but knows that it will take a long time of planning and recruiting.
Spoiler
Name: Selena Rodriguez
Race: Hispanic (Puerto Rican descent)
Gender: Female
Height: 5'6
Age: 19
Appearance: about 117 pounds, 32-34-32, 32C, Black hair in the "Welder Wendy" style
Moral Alignment: Evil-Low Neutral, with redemptive qualities
Personality: She's more intelligent than she seems, because she doesn't like to give information that might give anyone an advantage over her. She CAN look after herself, but would always prefer not to, she always likes to have a spotter, or group to watch her back. She adapts quickly, and deals with loss just as quickly, having lost several friends in the past to various beasts in the desert.
Role in the Clave: Sniper (Scout/Recon type)
Non-Combat Skills: She's a decent cook, very observant, stealthy, knows how to pick locks.
Combat: She prefers to kill a person (or creature) before it knows she's there. She isn't a very good fighter in close quarters, but has a pistol and switchblade with her at all times, but she's only used the blade for cooking.. So far
Stealth: She heavily relies on it, and her somewhat small figure makes it relatively easy to stay hidden
Weapons: Varmint Rifle with a Night Scope, .357 revolver, and a switchblade
Apparel: Storm Chaser hat she'll use on occasion, a sand-colored pouch on a sling that she uses to carry excess ammunition
Armor: Desperado Cowboy Hat, and a Ranger Vest Outfit, with a Bounty Hunter Duster over it
Miscellaneous: 3 coils of rope, about 20 feet each, her canteen.
Background: She was born in Primm, her father a soldier for the NCR, and her mother a prosttute. Her father wanted nothing to do with her and denied her being his own, not wanting to lose his position. Once the town was getting back into the swing of things her father along with most of the other NCR troops left Primm, and her mother turned to drinking. Her mother, constantly drunk, sickened her and at the age of 11 she joined a "gang", which was only 2 boys, 14 and 16 who got into trouble for stealing petty things, but never getting into seriosu trouble. 2 years later, Carlos, the oldest of the gang turned 18, and he enlisted with the NCR, which left Karl, the now 16 year old disappointed, but Selena furious. Selena, hating her mother, and feeling betrayed by her friends was determined to leave Primm, at only 13. Karl thought she was crazy, but gave her his switchblade and helped her to escape in the night. She found a caravan, and they let her travel with them to Sloan, where she was given the job of taking care of Snuffles for food, lodging, and a pittance. Fueled by hate, and disliking the workers of Sloan despite their helping her, after 3 years of working there she couldn't take it, and at night once again stole what funds they had and left, finding a different caravan and following it to the 188 trading post. She spent what money was left from the stash she stole and bought a varmint rifle from the caravan she followed, and a night scope from the Gun Runners stationed there. She spent the night there, and in the morning realized she had only around 200 caps left. She bought breakfast and refilled her canteen, and on her way out saw a NCR tent there.. She saw no one was inside it at the moment and rushed in, filled with fury and hatred, she grabbed a .357 from a shelf and 3 boxes of ammunition for it, throwing them in her pouch and saw a lantern, she got it and was about to burn the tent to the ground when she heard voices, and her senses came back to her. She left it, sneaking out, and her eye caught on the Lucky 38 like a beacon, A beacon to attract the weak-minded like her parents, she thought. Regardless she went towards it, past it, and into Freeside. There she spent the next couple years working as a bounty hunter to collect debts. She no doubt would've acquired some fame from this, but she made sure there weren't witnesses, she'd wait until they were alone, steal their caps, or kill them if need be, and return it to whichever gambling hall they lost more than they had in. One evening she was in the Atomic Wrangler, drinking a Nuka Cola Victory (The best kind she thought) and heard some drunks rambling too loudly, but one thing she said caught her attention, a "Clave". At first she thought they meant the enclave, but soon realized it was a group of people that couldn't be too different from herself, and spent the next couple months trying to find out more about them, but there was little to find out. She left to find them at the age of 19.
Disturbing - Explosives Expert - Jeremy DufraneName: Selena Rodriguez
Race: Hispanic (Puerto Rican descent)
Gender: Female
Height: 5'6
Age: 19
Appearance: about 117 pounds, 32-34-32, 32C, Black hair in the "Welder Wendy" style
Moral Alignment: Evil-Low Neutral, with redemptive qualities
Personality: She's more intelligent than she seems, because she doesn't like to give information that might give anyone an advantage over her. She CAN look after herself, but would always prefer not to, she always likes to have a spotter, or group to watch her back. She adapts quickly, and deals with loss just as quickly, having lost several friends in the past to various beasts in the desert.
Role in the Clave: Sniper (Scout/Recon type)
Non-Combat Skills: She's a decent cook, very observant, stealthy, knows how to pick locks.
Combat: She prefers to kill a person (or creature) before it knows she's there. She isn't a very good fighter in close quarters, but has a pistol and switchblade with her at all times, but she's only used the blade for cooking.. So far
Stealth: She heavily relies on it, and her somewhat small figure makes it relatively easy to stay hidden
Weapons: Varmint Rifle with a Night Scope, .357 revolver, and a switchblade
Apparel: Storm Chaser hat she'll use on occasion, a sand-colored pouch on a sling that she uses to carry excess ammunition
Armor: Desperado Cowboy Hat, and a Ranger Vest Outfit, with a Bounty Hunter Duster over it
Miscellaneous: 3 coils of rope, about 20 feet each, her canteen.
Background: She was born in Primm, her father a soldier for the NCR, and her mother a prosttute. Her father wanted nothing to do with her and denied her being his own, not wanting to lose his position. Once the town was getting back into the swing of things her father along with most of the other NCR troops left Primm, and her mother turned to drinking. Her mother, constantly drunk, sickened her and at the age of 11 she joined a "gang", which was only 2 boys, 14 and 16 who got into trouble for stealing petty things, but never getting into seriosu trouble. 2 years later, Carlos, the oldest of the gang turned 18, and he enlisted with the NCR, which left Karl, the now 16 year old disappointed, but Selena furious. Selena, hating her mother, and feeling betrayed by her friends was determined to leave Primm, at only 13. Karl thought she was crazy, but gave her his switchblade and helped her to escape in the night. She found a caravan, and they let her travel with them to Sloan, where she was given the job of taking care of Snuffles for food, lodging, and a pittance. Fueled by hate, and disliking the workers of Sloan despite their helping her, after 3 years of working there she couldn't take it, and at night once again stole what funds they had and left, finding a different caravan and following it to the 188 trading post. She spent what money was left from the stash she stole and bought a varmint rifle from the caravan she followed, and a night scope from the Gun Runners stationed there. She spent the night there, and in the morning realized she had only around 200 caps left. She bought breakfast and refilled her canteen, and on her way out saw a NCR tent there.. She saw no one was inside it at the moment and rushed in, filled with fury and hatred, she grabbed a .357 from a shelf and 3 boxes of ammunition for it, throwing them in her pouch and saw a lantern, she got it and was about to burn the tent to the ground when she heard voices, and her senses came back to her. She left it, sneaking out, and her eye caught on the Lucky 38 like a beacon, A beacon to attract the weak-minded like her parents, she thought. Regardless she went towards it, past it, and into Freeside. There she spent the next couple years working as a bounty hunter to collect debts. She no doubt would've acquired some fame from this, but she made sure there weren't witnesses, she'd wait until they were alone, steal their caps, or kill them if need be, and return it to whichever gambling hall they lost more than they had in. One evening she was in the Atomic Wrangler, drinking a Nuka Cola Victory (The best kind she thought) and heard some drunks rambling too loudly, but one thing she said caught her attention, a "Clave". At first she thought they meant the enclave, but soon realized it was a group of people that couldn't be too different from herself, and spent the next couple months trying to find out more about them, but there was little to find out. She left to find them at the age of 19.
Spoiler
Name: Jeremy Dufrane
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10
Age:23
Appearance: Everything about Dufrane is ragged and unkempt. His Auburn hair is frizzy and hangs over his green eyes. He walks with a twitchy slump and always seems poised to spring into action. Dufrane has a wild look in his eyes and often wears a crooked grin. His pale face is covered in soot and he is missing his pinky and ring fingers on his left hand. Any attractiveness his youthful face holds is offset by his maniacal disposition and erratic tendencies. Most people are uncomfortable around him but he seems to take no notice.
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral(or evil)
Personality: Dufrane is addictive and eccentric. A certified psychopath, Dufrane takes pleasure in the simpler things in life: a hard dose of psycho and a lit stick of dynamite. That being said, Dufrane is not a mindless animal. He may be crazy and unpredictable but he has a reasonable amount of smarts and can weigh his options fairly well. Dufrane isn't antisocial, he'll take any opportunity to chat up a storm. Most people tend to keep their distance though and even though he would never admit it, he feels lonely inside and just wants a friend.
Role in the Clave: Demolitions expert
Non-Combat Skills: There isn't much that Dufrane's good at the doesnt involve death or dismemberment for others. He is a decent cook though and can make several improvised explosives. Dufrane can also be quite...convincing and can get information out of people provided he has the right "tools" for the job
Combat: Dufrane's specialty is explosives. It can be anything from dynamite to a missile launcher, Dufrane will know how to use it and use it well. He is also a fairly good shot and can hold his own in a fistfight. Dufrane is also good at making traps and jury-rigging explosives.
Stealth: Nothing too special. Not too loud but not a raccoon or anything.
Weapons: Any explosive he can get his hands on(currently three frag grenades, two frag mines, and a 40mm grenade launcher with seven grenades). He is also armed with a service rifle with three full magazines(60 5.56 bullets) and a serated combat knife he keeps in his boot
Apparel: Simple pair of pants and a t-shirt
Armor: NCRCF guard armor
Miscellaneous: A hiking backpack to carry around his belongings and a water canteen. As well as a pre war copy of the Anarchist's Companion
Background: Jeremy Dufrane was born and raised in Westside. His mother was a prosttute who spent most of her time "working" and his father was a drifter who happened through the little settlement and had a little one night stand and left the next morning never to be seen again.
Dufrane was always considered somewhat odd and kept to himself most of the time. He spent most of his childhood scrounging through old buildings and blowing [censored] up. He found an old pre-war copy of the Anarchists Companion. He learned several "delicious boom recipes" from the book and still holds it close to this day.
He grew up hating his mom and his nonexistent dad, and was addicted to alcohol before he turned 16. The residents of Westside grew wary of his (literally and metaphorically speaking) explosive tendencies and his mother kicked him out of the shack they shared.
Alone and feeling especially hateful, Dufrane made the mistake of blowing up a traveling trade caravan and landed himself in the NCRCF at the ripe old age of 17 years old. He spent the next five years in the hole and the other prisoners respected and feared him for his heavy handedness and his knack for explosives.
Dufrane was one of the prisoners who helped Cooke start the riot but stayed in the correctional facility until the Courier and his army ousted the inhabitants and very well near exterminated all of the inmates. Dufrane fled New Vegas upon hearing rumors of a gang planning on getting some revenge on the Courier and was accepted due to his unique talents.
Vault Ninja - (Ghoul) Tech Expert - Andrew MyersName: Jeremy Dufrane
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height: 5'10
Age:23
Appearance: Everything about Dufrane is ragged and unkempt. His Auburn hair is frizzy and hangs over his green eyes. He walks with a twitchy slump and always seems poised to spring into action. Dufrane has a wild look in his eyes and often wears a crooked grin. His pale face is covered in soot and he is missing his pinky and ring fingers on his left hand. Any attractiveness his youthful face holds is offset by his maniacal disposition and erratic tendencies. Most people are uncomfortable around him but he seems to take no notice.
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral(or evil)
Personality: Dufrane is addictive and eccentric. A certified psychopath, Dufrane takes pleasure in the simpler things in life: a hard dose of psycho and a lit stick of dynamite. That being said, Dufrane is not a mindless animal. He may be crazy and unpredictable but he has a reasonable amount of smarts and can weigh his options fairly well. Dufrane isn't antisocial, he'll take any opportunity to chat up a storm. Most people tend to keep their distance though and even though he would never admit it, he feels lonely inside and just wants a friend.
Role in the Clave: Demolitions expert
Non-Combat Skills: There isn't much that Dufrane's good at the doesnt involve death or dismemberment for others. He is a decent cook though and can make several improvised explosives. Dufrane can also be quite...convincing and can get information out of people provided he has the right "tools" for the job
Combat: Dufrane's specialty is explosives. It can be anything from dynamite to a missile launcher, Dufrane will know how to use it and use it well. He is also a fairly good shot and can hold his own in a fistfight. Dufrane is also good at making traps and jury-rigging explosives.
Stealth: Nothing too special. Not too loud but not a raccoon or anything.
Weapons: Any explosive he can get his hands on(currently three frag grenades, two frag mines, and a 40mm grenade launcher with seven grenades). He is also armed with a service rifle with three full magazines(60 5.56 bullets) and a serated combat knife he keeps in his boot
Apparel: Simple pair of pants and a t-shirt
Armor: NCRCF guard armor
Miscellaneous: A hiking backpack to carry around his belongings and a water canteen. As well as a pre war copy of the Anarchist's Companion
Background: Jeremy Dufrane was born and raised in Westside. His mother was a prosttute who spent most of her time "working" and his father was a drifter who happened through the little settlement and had a little one night stand and left the next morning never to be seen again.
Dufrane was always considered somewhat odd and kept to himself most of the time. He spent most of his childhood scrounging through old buildings and blowing [censored] up. He found an old pre-war copy of the Anarchists Companion. He learned several "delicious boom recipes" from the book and still holds it close to this day.
He grew up hating his mom and his nonexistent dad, and was addicted to alcohol before he turned 16. The residents of Westside grew wary of his (literally and metaphorically speaking) explosive tendencies and his mother kicked him out of the shack they shared.
Alone and feeling especially hateful, Dufrane made the mistake of blowing up a traveling trade caravan and landed himself in the NCRCF at the ripe old age of 17 years old. He spent the next five years in the hole and the other prisoners respected and feared him for his heavy handedness and his knack for explosives.
Dufrane was one of the prisoners who helped Cooke start the riot but stayed in the correctional facility until the Courier and his army ousted the inhabitants and very well near exterminated all of the inmates. Dufrane fled New Vegas upon hearing rumors of a gang planning on getting some revenge on the Courier and was accepted due to his unique talents.
Spoiler
Name: Andrew Myers
Race: Caucasian Ghoul
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 3"
Age: 200+
Appearance: Missing most of his skin and his nose, but people can still make out the once handsome features on his face. He has standard ghoulification but still has a partially intact head of hair and moustache. He's stayed mostly intact and isn't missing any body parts but he's falling apart just the same. He has blue eyes and brown hair.
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: He's very impatient with people but normally cares about the people he's working with and tries to keep them safe. He sometimes gets lost in thought, mostly when he's reminiscing about Pre-War America or around any advanced technology. It's been said that he prefers robots to people but he has to warm up to people before actually liking him. He used to be quite a ladies man back in the day and although most of his skins gone, he can still be quite the smooth talker.
Role in the Clave: Tech Specialist
Non-Combat Skills: Computers, robotics, speech, and science.
Combat: He's a fair shot, prefers to use a pistol of energy weapons but he can use a rifle if need be.
Stealth: Not that great, but he gets by.
Weapons: .45 Auto Pistol
Apparel: Grey Slacks and a white dress shirt.
Armor: Bullet-Proof vest over whatever he's currently wearing.
Miscellaneous: He has an accent like Desmond from Point Lookout.
Background: Born over 200 years ago in Seattle, he worked at RobCo from the start and was one of their main "Whiz Kids". He helped to oversee various projects including helping to code robotics software and mainframe and defense systems. He was on the fast track to success until the Great War happened, which needless to say, stopped that train in its tracks. After the War, he mostly kept to himself but did technological work for mercenary groups and well-equipped scavengers. He'd been mostly keeping to himself for the past few years until the Courier and his army of stolen robots assaulted SLC and killed Joshua Graham and many others. He's recently heard of a group know as "The Clave" that wanted to kill this Courier. He decided to join up with them partly as revenge and partly just for the hell of it. There's also the fact that he wants to see what's inside the Lucky 38 and get his hands on whatever House has been up to for these past 200 years.
Agrona - Doctor/Medic - Dena Brinkof (Styx)Name: Andrew Myers
Race: Caucasian Ghoul
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 3"
Age: 200+
Appearance: Missing most of his skin and his nose, but people can still make out the once handsome features on his face. He has standard ghoulification but still has a partially intact head of hair and moustache. He's stayed mostly intact and isn't missing any body parts but he's falling apart just the same. He has blue eyes and brown hair.
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: He's very impatient with people but normally cares about the people he's working with and tries to keep them safe. He sometimes gets lost in thought, mostly when he's reminiscing about Pre-War America or around any advanced technology. It's been said that he prefers robots to people but he has to warm up to people before actually liking him. He used to be quite a ladies man back in the day and although most of his skins gone, he can still be quite the smooth talker.
Role in the Clave: Tech Specialist
Non-Combat Skills: Computers, robotics, speech, and science.
Combat: He's a fair shot, prefers to use a pistol of energy weapons but he can use a rifle if need be.
Stealth: Not that great, but he gets by.
Weapons: .45 Auto Pistol
Apparel: Grey Slacks and a white dress shirt.
Armor: Bullet-Proof vest over whatever he's currently wearing.
Miscellaneous: He has an accent like Desmond from Point Lookout.
Background: Born over 200 years ago in Seattle, he worked at RobCo from the start and was one of their main "Whiz Kids". He helped to oversee various projects including helping to code robotics software and mainframe and defense systems. He was on the fast track to success until the Great War happened, which needless to say, stopped that train in its tracks. After the War, he mostly kept to himself but did technological work for mercenary groups and well-equipped scavengers. He'd been mostly keeping to himself for the past few years until the Courier and his army of stolen robots assaulted SLC and killed Joshua Graham and many others. He's recently heard of a group know as "The Clave" that wanted to kill this Courier. He decided to join up with them partly as revenge and partly just for the hell of it. There's also the fact that he wants to see what's inside the Lucky 38 and get his hands on whatever House has been up to for these past 200 years.
Spoiler
Name: Dena Brinkhof
Nickname (optional): Styx (either because she sticks you with a needle or helps you cross over to the River Styx... nobody knows)
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Race: Caucasian/German decent
Appearance: Dena keeps her copper hair cropped rather close and wears an old soldier's cap, since she is very conscious about her cleanliness and paranoid of catching one of the horrible diseases. She stands 5' 11" feet tall, is lean and well muscled from constantly moving around and fighting for survival. She can make you feel very small, when she looks at you with raised eyebrows and sparkling emerald green eyes.
Skills: Medicine, Science and guns
Position/specialization within the gang: Medic, (patching up the idiot members who got themselves shot or worse! =p)
Weapons (don't go overboard, and remember, ammo is a factor): .45 auto pistol, combat knife, "med kit"
Attire (what you usually wear, includes armor): old US Army cap, black cargo pants, combat boots, black t-shirt and a leather duster with a red cross painted on the back.
History/ Background: Styx has always been a practical woman, a no fuss, no nonsense kind of person. It was either do it or don't do it, but if you do it, do it right.
She is known to have no patience with whiners. In this environment you just have to raise your pain threshold. If a patient complaints that she's being too rough, she will either get up and leave or smack the patient to give them really something to complain about. However, most members will tolerate her irate behavior, since she's the best damn doctor out there. If attacked, she won't hesitate to kill, damn the Hippocratic oath.
She was born and raised by good Mormon people in Utah, making their living by farming and teaching the locals the value of crop rotation, how to find water, as well as basic medicine. They were in touch with many tribes in the area, The Sorrows, The Dead Horses and everyone lived in harmony.
However, that all changed when first the White Legs invaded their territory and after that, the Legion. Somehow, their farming community had been caught in the crossfire. Dena's parents died when the Legion marched through their territory. She had never seen so much hatred and devastation in her life. The current Legate slaughtered everyone. They didn't take either prisoners, nor slaves.
Dena escaped badly wounded into the hills of Zion, where she slowly recovered in a cave she had found. There she read the accounts of a man named Randall Clark, who had survived here just after the bombs fell. She was thankful for the survivor cache she had found. It contained medicine, a gun and food. The cave's fresh water supply helped her to recuperate.
Once she had healed, she made her way north, towards Salt Lake City. She hoped to find allies there, maybe a new life. But what she found was more blood shed. It was a battlefield, ugly and devastating. However, she did her best to help the wounded and in turn learned a lot about being a combat medic. She could patch up an injured person in seconds, only to sent him or her out to get hurt again. It steeled her, made her harder and made her swear to take revenge on those who had taken away so much.
During that time, she met a newly formed group, calling themselves "The Clave". It seemed that their goals were aligned with hers. She had enough of being pushed around and it was time to take back the Mojave, take back a piece of her dignity and maybe even exact revenge in the process.
OldRPG'sAreGood - Torturer/Interrogator - Max "The Magnificent" AgesName: Dena Brinkhof
Nickname (optional): Styx (either because she sticks you with a needle or helps you cross over to the River Styx... nobody knows)
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Race: Caucasian/German decent
Appearance: Dena keeps her copper hair cropped rather close and wears an old soldier's cap, since she is very conscious about her cleanliness and paranoid of catching one of the horrible diseases. She stands 5' 11" feet tall, is lean and well muscled from constantly moving around and fighting for survival. She can make you feel very small, when she looks at you with raised eyebrows and sparkling emerald green eyes.
Skills: Medicine, Science and guns
Position/specialization within the gang: Medic, (patching up the idiot members who got themselves shot or worse! =p)
Weapons (don't go overboard, and remember, ammo is a factor): .45 auto pistol, combat knife, "med kit"
Attire (what you usually wear, includes armor): old US Army cap, black cargo pants, combat boots, black t-shirt and a leather duster with a red cross painted on the back.
History/ Background: Styx has always been a practical woman, a no fuss, no nonsense kind of person. It was either do it or don't do it, but if you do it, do it right.
She is known to have no patience with whiners. In this environment you just have to raise your pain threshold. If a patient complaints that she's being too rough, she will either get up and leave or smack the patient to give them really something to complain about. However, most members will tolerate her irate behavior, since she's the best damn doctor out there. If attacked, she won't hesitate to kill, damn the Hippocratic oath.
She was born and raised by good Mormon people in Utah, making their living by farming and teaching the locals the value of crop rotation, how to find water, as well as basic medicine. They were in touch with many tribes in the area, The Sorrows, The Dead Horses and everyone lived in harmony.
However, that all changed when first the White Legs invaded their territory and after that, the Legion. Somehow, their farming community had been caught in the crossfire. Dena's parents died when the Legion marched through their territory. She had never seen so much hatred and devastation in her life. The current Legate slaughtered everyone. They didn't take either prisoners, nor slaves.
Dena escaped badly wounded into the hills of Zion, where she slowly recovered in a cave she had found. There she read the accounts of a man named Randall Clark, who had survived here just after the bombs fell. She was thankful for the survivor cache she had found. It contained medicine, a gun and food. The cave's fresh water supply helped her to recuperate.
Once she had healed, she made her way north, towards Salt Lake City. She hoped to find allies there, maybe a new life. But what she found was more blood shed. It was a battlefield, ugly and devastating. However, she did her best to help the wounded and in turn learned a lot about being a combat medic. She could patch up an injured person in seconds, only to sent him or her out to get hurt again. It steeled her, made her harder and made her swear to take revenge on those who had taken away so much.
During that time, she met a newly formed group, calling themselves "The Clave". It seemed that their goals were aligned with hers. She had enough of being pushed around and it was time to take back the Mojave, take back a piece of her dignity and maybe even exact revenge in the process.
Spoiler
Name: Max "the Magnificient" Ages
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Appearance: Gaunt face with hollow cheeks and happy looking eyes. Subtly muscular body. He has a waxed pair of twirly moustache and messy crowsnest he calls his hair. His height is around 1,8 meters.
Personality: Cruel, sadistic, calm
Skills: Nasty with melee weapons, certain skill in persuasivness, also has a tendency in efficient showmanship
Role in the Clave/specialization: Interrogator, torturer
Weapons: A barbed knife, built from pieces of scrap that are welded together. A straight razor, switchblade and a crude shiv, safely tucked in his hidden pockets.
Apparel (includes armor): A top hat that's faded black, a torn suit with the shoulder padding ripped open, filled with small pockets that contain his blades.
Other items: A leather bag containing all manner of hooks, hammers, saws and other sharp objects that aren't practical in combat, but can be quite useful in interrogating business.
History: Max Ages was born in Salt Lake City, and has never left it. The early years of his life he grew amongst a survivor group that used violence, the easy solution to problems, very excessively. The city didn't turn out to be a particulary good place for a child grow up, as the kid took up some pretty nasty ideals from shady inviduals he lived with during his childhood. Already a bit "crooked" in morals and psyche, little Max developed a strange mix of sadisticsm, that got born from the childish view of play Max took on his groups violent behaviour, and magic when he found a toy magician set in the ruins of an old school building where his group was scavenging. The concept intrigued him, and he learned all manner of tricks, how to make a seemingly endless string of napkins and all that parlor trickesque stuff. Max saw magic as an art form. Soon enough he was trying to combine a bit of stabbing and cutting, his another favourite hobby and game, to magicianship, practising on animals, mostly giant rats.
Soon enough though, Max got himself involved in his "families" problem solving, adapting his "magic" on his fellow humans, all devoid of moral and regret. Napkins were switched to guts, dissappearing coins became dissappearing fingers and eyes and ears, and so on. Another human had become an animal, or worse, in the hellish world of post apocalypse.
The raiders in the area took note, and for a few years as a growing man, Max toured and offered his peculiar services to those in need of them. In due time he decided to settle down with one group, ending up in the Clave that was in the height of its power at the time, performing "freebies" for a time, gradually becoming accepted in the society. Then the Courier knocked down the dream castle, Max was still among the survivors, filled bitterness and anger, thirsting to have revenge. But that'd take a while, so all Max needs now is a score of unlucky individuals to vent his anger in.
Han Shoots First - Sniper - SiegfriedName: Max "the Magnificient" Ages
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Appearance: Gaunt face with hollow cheeks and happy looking eyes. Subtly muscular body. He has a waxed pair of twirly moustache and messy crowsnest he calls his hair. His height is around 1,8 meters.
Personality: Cruel, sadistic, calm
Skills: Nasty with melee weapons, certain skill in persuasivness, also has a tendency in efficient showmanship
Role in the Clave/specialization: Interrogator, torturer
Weapons: A barbed knife, built from pieces of scrap that are welded together. A straight razor, switchblade and a crude shiv, safely tucked in his hidden pockets.
Apparel (includes armor): A top hat that's faded black, a torn suit with the shoulder padding ripped open, filled with small pockets that contain his blades.
Other items: A leather bag containing all manner of hooks, hammers, saws and other sharp objects that aren't practical in combat, but can be quite useful in interrogating business.
History: Max Ages was born in Salt Lake City, and has never left it. The early years of his life he grew amongst a survivor group that used violence, the easy solution to problems, very excessively. The city didn't turn out to be a particulary good place for a child grow up, as the kid took up some pretty nasty ideals from shady inviduals he lived with during his childhood. Already a bit "crooked" in morals and psyche, little Max developed a strange mix of sadisticsm, that got born from the childish view of play Max took on his groups violent behaviour, and magic when he found a toy magician set in the ruins of an old school building where his group was scavenging. The concept intrigued him, and he learned all manner of tricks, how to make a seemingly endless string of napkins and all that parlor trickesque stuff. Max saw magic as an art form. Soon enough he was trying to combine a bit of stabbing and cutting, his another favourite hobby and game, to magicianship, practising on animals, mostly giant rats.
Soon enough though, Max got himself involved in his "families" problem solving, adapting his "magic" on his fellow humans, all devoid of moral and regret. Napkins were switched to guts, dissappearing coins became dissappearing fingers and eyes and ears, and so on. Another human had become an animal, or worse, in the hellish world of post apocalypse.
The raiders in the area took note, and for a few years as a growing man, Max toured and offered his peculiar services to those in need of them. In due time he decided to settle down with one group, ending up in the Clave that was in the height of its power at the time, performing "freebies" for a time, gradually becoming accepted in the society. Then the Courier knocked down the dream castle, Max was still among the survivors, filled bitterness and anger, thirsting to have revenge. But that'd take a while, so all Max needs now is a score of unlucky individuals to vent his anger in.
Spoiler
Name: Siegfried (sig’frēd)
Race: Prussian (Caucasian)
Gender: Male
Height: 6’ 6”
Age: 25
Appearance: Siegfried is tall, but is otherwise physically unimpressive, he is not particularly strong, yet not weak, and he has blue eyes and short sandy brown hair. Sometimes his hair appears blonde when the sun hits it. He has a slight beard that is noticable but not very significant. He has a scar on his back that looks like a spear impact (hence his name). He appears tan due to the dirt that has covered his skin. He also looks very intimidating due to his height.
Moral Alignment: Neutral with Evil tendencies
Personality: Siegfried has a “get the job done” attitude. If he has to sacrifice his entire unit and himself to finish the mission, he will. He does however show a care for people he is responsible for. He will do anything for his men but if that means sacrificing the mission, then he will ignore his usual tendencies. He comes off as friendly but is truly slow to trust others he will treat anyone as a possible thief. He is constantly checking his weapons and personal items, if he has any free time, he will spend it dismantling and reassembling his sniper rifle and hunting shotgun. Siegfried has a deep sense of duty to kill The Courier and to destroy the Legion.
Role in the Clave: Siegfried is a Sniper and shotgun specialist.
Non-combat Skills: Siegfried has a “silver tongue” according to some people, he comes off as friendly and is hard to upset unless you endanger anyone he is tasked to protect or his men. He is also very skilled with repairing arms of any sort.
Combat: Siegfried is a skilled sniper and shotgun expert, he tends to be a “first-shot kill, second-shot chambered” sniper, he does however, miss more often than he will admit. He always keeps his shotgun ready to use.
Stealth: Being a sniper he is naturally somewhat stealthy, he however doesn’t use it as a primary skill. Most people would be able to detect him if they are observant.
Appearal: When Siegfried is not in combat he wears loose-fitting jeans with a dust-stained t-shirt. The jeans have worn down sections around the knees. His shirt is stained with spots of blood, but it is hard to tell the blood apart from the dirt.
Armor: When Siegfried is preparing for combat he wears Leather Armor. While his armor appears very similiar to the typical Leather Armor it is actually much lighter and less protective. He has no gloves as part of it and he wears a slightly too large set of armor so it appears loose.
Miscellaneous: Siegfried has a special hatred for the Legion and The Courier. He speaks with a Prussian accent. His Hunting Shotgun is painted white and sometimes appears a gold in the desert sun. His Sniper Rifle is painted black and he calls it Schwarzet?de, the Black Death.
Background: Siegfried was born in and grew up in Novac. He lived there until he was 15 and trained to become an expert marksman his whole life. When Siegfried was 15 there was a murder in Novac and there was a question as to who did it. People soon started to blame him. Eventually, someone found a piece of evidence that "proved" Siegfried killed the person. Facing exile or death Siegfried chose exile. Shamed and disowned by his own family, he spent the next year trying to figure out who actually commited the murder. Soon, he found out that a Legion soldier had commited the murder and framed him. He hunted down the soldier and killed him. When they were fighting the Legion soldier managed to strike a blow with his spear on Siegfried's back creating a scar, but not killing Siegfried. From that day forth he had a special hatred reserved for the Legion. He spent the next 9 years roaming the wasteland as a mercenary. He quickly earned the nickname "Siegfried," due to the scar on his back. He then found Joshua Graham fighting at Salt. He joined Graham and fought the enemy forces. When The Courier showed up and wiped out Grahams forces Siegfried used that same hate he had for the Legion and now split it to both the Legion and The Courier. Soon, Siegfried joined The Clave and shared their hatred for The Courier.
Tundrafrog1124 - Soldier - Charles AlexanderName: Siegfried (sig’frēd)
Race: Prussian (Caucasian)
Gender: Male
Height: 6’ 6”
Age: 25
Appearance: Siegfried is tall, but is otherwise physically unimpressive, he is not particularly strong, yet not weak, and he has blue eyes and short sandy brown hair. Sometimes his hair appears blonde when the sun hits it. He has a slight beard that is noticable but not very significant. He has a scar on his back that looks like a spear impact (hence his name). He appears tan due to the dirt that has covered his skin. He also looks very intimidating due to his height.
Moral Alignment: Neutral with Evil tendencies
Personality: Siegfried has a “get the job done” attitude. If he has to sacrifice his entire unit and himself to finish the mission, he will. He does however show a care for people he is responsible for. He will do anything for his men but if that means sacrificing the mission, then he will ignore his usual tendencies. He comes off as friendly but is truly slow to trust others he will treat anyone as a possible thief. He is constantly checking his weapons and personal items, if he has any free time, he will spend it dismantling and reassembling his sniper rifle and hunting shotgun. Siegfried has a deep sense of duty to kill The Courier and to destroy the Legion.
Role in the Clave: Siegfried is a Sniper and shotgun specialist.
Non-combat Skills: Siegfried has a “silver tongue” according to some people, he comes off as friendly and is hard to upset unless you endanger anyone he is tasked to protect or his men. He is also very skilled with repairing arms of any sort.
Combat: Siegfried is a skilled sniper and shotgun expert, he tends to be a “first-shot kill, second-shot chambered” sniper, he does however, miss more often than he will admit. He always keeps his shotgun ready to use.
Stealth: Being a sniper he is naturally somewhat stealthy, he however doesn’t use it as a primary skill. Most people would be able to detect him if they are observant.
Appearal: When Siegfried is not in combat he wears loose-fitting jeans with a dust-stained t-shirt. The jeans have worn down sections around the knees. His shirt is stained with spots of blood, but it is hard to tell the blood apart from the dirt.
Armor: When Siegfried is preparing for combat he wears Leather Armor. While his armor appears very similiar to the typical Leather Armor it is actually much lighter and less protective. He has no gloves as part of it and he wears a slightly too large set of armor so it appears loose.
Miscellaneous: Siegfried has a special hatred for the Legion and The Courier. He speaks with a Prussian accent. His Hunting Shotgun is painted white and sometimes appears a gold in the desert sun. His Sniper Rifle is painted black and he calls it Schwarzet?de, the Black Death.
Background: Siegfried was born in and grew up in Novac. He lived there until he was 15 and trained to become an expert marksman his whole life. When Siegfried was 15 there was a murder in Novac and there was a question as to who did it. People soon started to blame him. Eventually, someone found a piece of evidence that "proved" Siegfried killed the person. Facing exile or death Siegfried chose exile. Shamed and disowned by his own family, he spent the next year trying to figure out who actually commited the murder. Soon, he found out that a Legion soldier had commited the murder and framed him. He hunted down the soldier and killed him. When they were fighting the Legion soldier managed to strike a blow with his spear on Siegfried's back creating a scar, but not killing Siegfried. From that day forth he had a special hatred reserved for the Legion. He spent the next 9 years roaming the wasteland as a mercenary. He quickly earned the nickname "Siegfried," due to the scar on his back. He then found Joshua Graham fighting at Salt. He joined Graham and fought the enemy forces. When The Courier showed up and wiped out Grahams forces Siegfried used that same hate he had for the Legion and now split it to both the Legion and The Courier. Soon, Siegfried joined The Clave and shared their hatred for The Courier.
Spoiler
Name: Charles Alexander
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height: 6’2”
Age: 25
Appearance: Charles’s frame is leaning more to the thin side, but lean muscle is still present. Skin browned from sunlight is covered in tattoos on his chest, back, stomach and arms. Patterned black bars run across each shoulder with the one on his right side, ending with TRUTH across his pectoral; the left side ending with LIES. Below this along his abdominals is an oval teeth filled maw with short stubby tentacles sprawling off. Sixteen in total with an extra one continuing past his waist; the eight on the left side (lies) read as follows (Top to bottom) PRIDE, DILIGENCE, IMPATIENCE, TOLERANCE, PREJUDICE, PITY and CRUELTY, the right side (truth) as follows (Top to bottom) GUILT, VEHEMENCE, INDIFFERENCE VIGILANCE ALIGENCE, GRIEF and JOY. Charles’s upper back is covered with a larger image of a black tentacle maw, except this time it is only half. His upper right arm has two patterned bars wrapping around his bicep and a black sun on his forearm. The left arm has one black sun on the bicep and two tentacle bars on the forearm. On the bottom side of Charles’s right forearm is the word EMANCIPATOR and under his left is the word SUBJUGATIOR Other than the excessive tattoos Charles’s body is also home to many scars and burns, both self-inflicted and not. Charles’s back is absolutely riddled with scars, mostly deep ones. But his face is what draws attention away from his tattoos and scars, a somewhat boyish face with a nose that has clearly been broken and readjusted many times. Somewhat prominent cheek bones and bushy eyebrows, rough acne scars mark his cheek, nose and the space between his nose and upper lip. Then his eyes, crystal clear piercing icy blue eyes star out underneath a firm brow; his eyes are wide and filled with panic, fear, hate and a deep sadness. If one were to study Charles’s face closely they would notice scars starting near the hairline and moving downwards, the result of Charles attempting to claw his face off. Short unkempt chocolate hair stands up at odd angles atop his head, a scar on both the right side of his head and his left leave small bar patches.
Moral Alignment: True neutral, leans between chaotic and good depending on his state of mind.
Personality: Charles is broken, the mixture of the brutality of the wasteland and unfortunate mental conditions have formed a miserable person. Charles’s actions are sporadic, one minute you could be asking him a question and then next he could be trying to kill you or accuse you of stealing. Being a paranoid schizophrenic Charles often has intense and terrifying hallucinations, but most often he just smells something others can’t or hears what others can’t. But too often the hallucinations can greatly affect others when he believes they have wronged him or another. He is constantly afraid of being caught and found, he is only comfortable with people he knows and is acutely afraid of “Them”. “Them” or “They” are a group of people who Charles believes is hunting him in order to steal his thoughts and soul. They can take the form of anyone and as such Charles trusts almost no-one. Charles also displays psychopathic tendencies and if he was reviewed by a physician would be diagnosed as a psychopath. Despite this Charles is not your run of the mill cold-hearted and sadistic psychopath, no in fact Charles is plagued with guilt over his actions; at least the ones his remembers. Charles is constantly conflicted even in simple day to day decisions, voices in his head scream a thousand requests at once and Charles wishes only to silence them. This combined with a deep depression, a horrible childhood and a life of torment and cruelty has lead Charles to hate himself. Never will one meet a more self-loathing person, Charles has attempted suicide more than a dozen times yet he survives every time only adding to his self-hatred and feeling of great failure. He wants to be a good person but is often violent and brutal leading him to only feel more guilt and his loathing to increase.
Role in the Clave: Charles is whatever the leader needs him to be at the time/ soldier
Non-Combat Skills: Charles is too delusional to operate high technology but he does have knack for medicine and cooking. What exactly he does when patching someone up is a bit of a mystery for if you were to ask him he would either spew nonsense or accuses you of trying to steal his thoughts. Though with cooking it is one of the few times Charles is relaxed and more at ease, almost normal.
Combat: Charles is efficient in close combat and medium range when armed with a rifle or shotgun, though he prefers melee above all.
Stealth: Charles is extremely stealthy, and is often watching, listening to people without them noticing.
Weapons:
-Two large homemade knives made from lawnmower blades, around the size of a Bowie knife but smaller than a machete.
-Smith and Wesson snub-nosed .45 ACP revolver, with a black finish, a few scratches and written along the length of the gun are the words “Faith and a .45”
-AKS-74U carbine with a folding metal frame stock and scratch made removable silencer. The carbine is heavily modified on the exterior: demonic faces and crazed ramblings with the exception of one readable sentence written above the trigger guard “He begged for mercy and I pulled”
Apparel: A ragged pair of khaki pants hang from Charles’s waist, torn and dirty yet they still serve their function. Other than his pants Charles only has a few straps to carry his carbine and other supplies and an old robe made from a bed sheet that he wears in winter or sleeps on as bedding. Atop his head Charles wears a crude mask fashioned from a burlap sack, the mask itself is slightly blood splattered and overall is quite terrifying looking. Charles is extremly protective of his mask and wears it all the time, many members of the Clave do not even know what he looks like. Charles calls the mask his "face" and if stolen or removed will become uncontrollable.
Armor: See above
Miscellaneous: Charles carries a satchel full of smaller knives for cooking and a small skillet. He also lugs around another small pack this one being a well-stocked first aid kit.
Background: Charles’s life is a long history of cruelty and brutality. It serves as an instruction manual for how to destroy a person and create a monster. Charles was born in Salt, in the Under-city to a mother he never met, a father who beat him and later a little sister. Charles’s home was a small shack built on the exit of a drainage tunnel. Charles’s father was an ex-raider and worked for a wealthy merchant in the Upper-city, saluaging the old ruins. He was an angry bitter man, constantly intoxicated and always looking to get his anger out on someone. Charles was often beat for no reason with everything from fists to belts to sticks and metal bars. Charles’s sister often suffered the same fate but as the years lead on Charles’s father was home less and less until he finally after work he didn’t come home. Though it was common for him to sleep on the topside, Charles and his sister were confused when after a week he didn’t return. Charles never learned what happened to his father and really didn’t care, at the age of twelve he had his eleven year old sister to take care of. Taking odd jobs from Under-City dwellers Charles had a meager income and after a year of barely scrapping by Charles no longer had to take of two anymore.
A pack of raiders found the shack and seeing it occupied by only children took advantage. They broke down the door and overpowered Charles and his sister, despite their attempts to fight back. What comes next haunts Charles every night, the raiders after looting the house decided to satisfy their other needs. One strong one held Charles still; his arms tied behind his back the other raiders then forced themselves upon his sister, taking turns to defile her. Charles fought with what might he had but they forced him to watch, making it slow inflicting as much pain and humiliation as possible. Then after having satisfying themselves, a wild eyed raider took a hatchet and began to kill his sister; taking off the extremities first making sure she stayed alive to feel the pain. It lasted five painful minutes before she bleed to death, not yet pleased with the amount of carnage the wild eyed raider plucked up one of her fingers and began to eat the flesh. The rest followed in suit, saving a little until their feast was done; then taking the remainder of flesh they forced Charles to devour it. Charles shook and bite, scratched and yelled but they forced the meat into his mouth and then down his throat. After completing their work the raiders left, walked out of the shack in a casual manner; ignoring Charles’s request for them to kill him.
Charles escaped his bondage and ran into the Under-City as deep as he could go. Charles was alone and scarred, he vomited and vomited until nothing else would come up. He pounded himself with his fists between his sobs, Charles blamed himself for the attack. He pulled out hair and tried to choke himself, he fought in a pathetic fight against himself for close to an hour before he passed out from sheer exhaustion. For days afterwards Charles rarely moved from the hole he was in, sipped dirty water only enough to stay alive. Charles was wasting away and didn’t care he would welcome death but when he was close he was found by a man. This man nursed Charles back to health; Charles would have protested but was too weak; again something he blames himself for. When Charles was healthy enough to move around the man told him that he was a former soldier from a group called the Enclave. Charles distrusted this man despite his good intentions and stole away one night back into the streets of Salt. Charles was frequently attacked by gang members, drunken settlers and shot one time by trigger happy raiders. Charles tried for years to connect with someone else but every time they were taken away. Friends gunned down, lovers defiled and murdered even pets stomped on and burned alive; it seemed as if the world had a goal to make Charles’s life truly a living hell.
That was until Charles was eighteen, having just witnessed his girlfriend be executed in front of him her blood splattering onto his face; something inside Charles snapped. Something broke; Charles didn’t udder a word when he lunged at the attackers, even when his hands were bond. He didn’t say a word as he bit one man’s nose off, he didn’t speak when he tore another’s throat open with his teeth and he didn’t shudder or turn away when he pounded the last one’s head into a mushy slop. Due to years of torment and exposure to non-stop brutality and already a fragile mind Charles had a psychic break with reality. When he came back he was not the man that left, no he was a beast a self-loathing beast. Charles clung to books despite his poor reading skills and began to have a fixation with religious texts in specific. Though not believing in them Charles still found hope something to keep him going. Charles transformed: tattooing his body and feverishly reading all he could, his broken mind wandered and often made little sense. Charles traveled from gang to gang as a soldier, killing people all people. Though he hated his action Charles could not control himself and as his violent actions increased so did his suicide attempts; all failed. Charles having not much to live for and craving death found the Clave. Sliding into the ranks Charles was foot soldier and scout, he doesn't trust it’s members but still it is home; for now.
Cineres - Trader/Diplomat - David WoodsName: Charles Alexander
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height: 6’2”
Age: 25
Appearance: Charles’s frame is leaning more to the thin side, but lean muscle is still present. Skin browned from sunlight is covered in tattoos on his chest, back, stomach and arms. Patterned black bars run across each shoulder with the one on his right side, ending with TRUTH across his pectoral; the left side ending with LIES. Below this along his abdominals is an oval teeth filled maw with short stubby tentacles sprawling off. Sixteen in total with an extra one continuing past his waist; the eight on the left side (lies) read as follows (Top to bottom) PRIDE, DILIGENCE, IMPATIENCE, TOLERANCE, PREJUDICE, PITY and CRUELTY, the right side (truth) as follows (Top to bottom) GUILT, VEHEMENCE, INDIFFERENCE VIGILANCE ALIGENCE, GRIEF and JOY. Charles’s upper back is covered with a larger image of a black tentacle maw, except this time it is only half. His upper right arm has two patterned bars wrapping around his bicep and a black sun on his forearm. The left arm has one black sun on the bicep and two tentacle bars on the forearm. On the bottom side of Charles’s right forearm is the word EMANCIPATOR and under his left is the word SUBJUGATIOR Other than the excessive tattoos Charles’s body is also home to many scars and burns, both self-inflicted and not. Charles’s back is absolutely riddled with scars, mostly deep ones. But his face is what draws attention away from his tattoos and scars, a somewhat boyish face with a nose that has clearly been broken and readjusted many times. Somewhat prominent cheek bones and bushy eyebrows, rough acne scars mark his cheek, nose and the space between his nose and upper lip. Then his eyes, crystal clear piercing icy blue eyes star out underneath a firm brow; his eyes are wide and filled with panic, fear, hate and a deep sadness. If one were to study Charles’s face closely they would notice scars starting near the hairline and moving downwards, the result of Charles attempting to claw his face off. Short unkempt chocolate hair stands up at odd angles atop his head, a scar on both the right side of his head and his left leave small bar patches.
Moral Alignment: True neutral, leans between chaotic and good depending on his state of mind.
Personality: Charles is broken, the mixture of the brutality of the wasteland and unfortunate mental conditions have formed a miserable person. Charles’s actions are sporadic, one minute you could be asking him a question and then next he could be trying to kill you or accuse you of stealing. Being a paranoid schizophrenic Charles often has intense and terrifying hallucinations, but most often he just smells something others can’t or hears what others can’t. But too often the hallucinations can greatly affect others when he believes they have wronged him or another. He is constantly afraid of being caught and found, he is only comfortable with people he knows and is acutely afraid of “Them”. “Them” or “They” are a group of people who Charles believes is hunting him in order to steal his thoughts and soul. They can take the form of anyone and as such Charles trusts almost no-one. Charles also displays psychopathic tendencies and if he was reviewed by a physician would be diagnosed as a psychopath. Despite this Charles is not your run of the mill cold-hearted and sadistic psychopath, no in fact Charles is plagued with guilt over his actions; at least the ones his remembers. Charles is constantly conflicted even in simple day to day decisions, voices in his head scream a thousand requests at once and Charles wishes only to silence them. This combined with a deep depression, a horrible childhood and a life of torment and cruelty has lead Charles to hate himself. Never will one meet a more self-loathing person, Charles has attempted suicide more than a dozen times yet he survives every time only adding to his self-hatred and feeling of great failure. He wants to be a good person but is often violent and brutal leading him to only feel more guilt and his loathing to increase.
Role in the Clave: Charles is whatever the leader needs him to be at the time/ soldier
Non-Combat Skills: Charles is too delusional to operate high technology but he does have knack for medicine and cooking. What exactly he does when patching someone up is a bit of a mystery for if you were to ask him he would either spew nonsense or accuses you of trying to steal his thoughts. Though with cooking it is one of the few times Charles is relaxed and more at ease, almost normal.
Combat: Charles is efficient in close combat and medium range when armed with a rifle or shotgun, though he prefers melee above all.
Stealth: Charles is extremely stealthy, and is often watching, listening to people without them noticing.
Weapons:
-Two large homemade knives made from lawnmower blades, around the size of a Bowie knife but smaller than a machete.
-Smith and Wesson snub-nosed .45 ACP revolver, with a black finish, a few scratches and written along the length of the gun are the words “Faith and a .45”
-AKS-74U carbine with a folding metal frame stock and scratch made removable silencer. The carbine is heavily modified on the exterior: demonic faces and crazed ramblings with the exception of one readable sentence written above the trigger guard “He begged for mercy and I pulled”
Apparel: A ragged pair of khaki pants hang from Charles’s waist, torn and dirty yet they still serve their function. Other than his pants Charles only has a few straps to carry his carbine and other supplies and an old robe made from a bed sheet that he wears in winter or sleeps on as bedding. Atop his head Charles wears a crude mask fashioned from a burlap sack, the mask itself is slightly blood splattered and overall is quite terrifying looking. Charles is extremly protective of his mask and wears it all the time, many members of the Clave do not even know what he looks like. Charles calls the mask his "face" and if stolen or removed will become uncontrollable.
Armor: See above
Miscellaneous: Charles carries a satchel full of smaller knives for cooking and a small skillet. He also lugs around another small pack this one being a well-stocked first aid kit.
Background: Charles’s life is a long history of cruelty and brutality. It serves as an instruction manual for how to destroy a person and create a monster. Charles was born in Salt, in the Under-city to a mother he never met, a father who beat him and later a little sister. Charles’s home was a small shack built on the exit of a drainage tunnel. Charles’s father was an ex-raider and worked for a wealthy merchant in the Upper-city, saluaging the old ruins. He was an angry bitter man, constantly intoxicated and always looking to get his anger out on someone. Charles was often beat for no reason with everything from fists to belts to sticks and metal bars. Charles’s sister often suffered the same fate but as the years lead on Charles’s father was home less and less until he finally after work he didn’t come home. Though it was common for him to sleep on the topside, Charles and his sister were confused when after a week he didn’t return. Charles never learned what happened to his father and really didn’t care, at the age of twelve he had his eleven year old sister to take care of. Taking odd jobs from Under-City dwellers Charles had a meager income and after a year of barely scrapping by Charles no longer had to take of two anymore.
A pack of raiders found the shack and seeing it occupied by only children took advantage. They broke down the door and overpowered Charles and his sister, despite their attempts to fight back. What comes next haunts Charles every night, the raiders after looting the house decided to satisfy their other needs. One strong one held Charles still; his arms tied behind his back the other raiders then forced themselves upon his sister, taking turns to defile her. Charles fought with what might he had but they forced him to watch, making it slow inflicting as much pain and humiliation as possible. Then after having satisfying themselves, a wild eyed raider took a hatchet and began to kill his sister; taking off the extremities first making sure she stayed alive to feel the pain. It lasted five painful minutes before she bleed to death, not yet pleased with the amount of carnage the wild eyed raider plucked up one of her fingers and began to eat the flesh. The rest followed in suit, saving a little until their feast was done; then taking the remainder of flesh they forced Charles to devour it. Charles shook and bite, scratched and yelled but they forced the meat into his mouth and then down his throat. After completing their work the raiders left, walked out of the shack in a casual manner; ignoring Charles’s request for them to kill him.
Charles escaped his bondage and ran into the Under-City as deep as he could go. Charles was alone and scarred, he vomited and vomited until nothing else would come up. He pounded himself with his fists between his sobs, Charles blamed himself for the attack. He pulled out hair and tried to choke himself, he fought in a pathetic fight against himself for close to an hour before he passed out from sheer exhaustion. For days afterwards Charles rarely moved from the hole he was in, sipped dirty water only enough to stay alive. Charles was wasting away and didn’t care he would welcome death but when he was close he was found by a man. This man nursed Charles back to health; Charles would have protested but was too weak; again something he blames himself for. When Charles was healthy enough to move around the man told him that he was a former soldier from a group called the Enclave. Charles distrusted this man despite his good intentions and stole away one night back into the streets of Salt. Charles was frequently attacked by gang members, drunken settlers and shot one time by trigger happy raiders. Charles tried for years to connect with someone else but every time they were taken away. Friends gunned down, lovers defiled and murdered even pets stomped on and burned alive; it seemed as if the world had a goal to make Charles’s life truly a living hell.
That was until Charles was eighteen, having just witnessed his girlfriend be executed in front of him her blood splattering onto his face; something inside Charles snapped. Something broke; Charles didn’t udder a word when he lunged at the attackers, even when his hands were bond. He didn’t say a word as he bit one man’s nose off, he didn’t speak when he tore another’s throat open with his teeth and he didn’t shudder or turn away when he pounded the last one’s head into a mushy slop. Due to years of torment and exposure to non-stop brutality and already a fragile mind Charles had a psychic break with reality. When he came back he was not the man that left, no he was a beast a self-loathing beast. Charles clung to books despite his poor reading skills and began to have a fixation with religious texts in specific. Though not believing in them Charles still found hope something to keep him going. Charles transformed: tattooing his body and feverishly reading all he could, his broken mind wandered and often made little sense. Charles traveled from gang to gang as a soldier, killing people all people. Though he hated his action Charles could not control himself and as his violent actions increased so did his suicide attempts; all failed. Charles having not much to live for and craving death found the Clave. Sliding into the ranks Charles was foot soldier and scout, he doesn't trust it’s members but still it is home; for now.
Spoiler
Name: David Woods
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height: 5'11
Age: 30
http://www.ultimofashions.co.uk/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/380x514/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/c/a/californication-hank-moody-jacket.jpg David has a rugged look going on like the majority of raiders yet he somehow manages to stand out amongst people anywhere despite not having the best body in the world or being all that young and athletic. He has an average build and is reasonably healthy but doesn't come close to standing out fitness wise when compared to a lot of the other killers in the Clave. His build is pretty much average, he isn't fat nor slim but he does try to keep himself in reasonable fighting shape for when he absolutely needs to be. He has hazel coloured eyes, overgrown brown hair and slight stubble. He also has a very small scar on his right cheek.
Moral Alignment: Neutral; leaning more towards good than bad.
Personality: David is overall a pretty good guy, especially for a raider. He is generally loved or hated by most people, often acting like a charmer and generally not caring what others think about him or his opinions the majority of the time. Although sometimes he just hides how much he actually does care by using this trait as cover. He is a life long lady killer and is far nicer and generally more open to the fairer six than he is with men. He has an overall suave personality that has gotten him in bad and good situations throughout his life. He is an extremely good humoured man and will often joke about pretty much anything and everything. His best trait is probably his sheer doggedness. David never gives up, whether this trait of his is being aimed towards women or war, the outcome is usually the same since he never quits. He is also extremely loyal, especially to those he considers his friends and will always defend them when he feels they need him, which he feels is always. Most of the time David is an extremely calm and in control guy but if something or someone he cares about is insulted or threatened he is often quick to lose his temper.
Role in The Clave: Trader, Diplomat and settlement scouter.
Non-Combat Skills: David's best skill overall is his talent with words. He is a massive people person and is usually liked by even those who try to hate him. He will use words and general charm to persuade or barter with people to get what he wants or needs. He is also literate and keeps a journal that he often writes in. Due to his people skills he would often work as a diplomat, trader and settlement scouter for the Clave. He doesn't look like a raider and thus blends into settlements and such far easier than most. David's years of trading have also given him a keen eye when it comes to people. He can often read people reasonably well to better assess both the situation and them themselves to get himself a better overall solution with this special found knowledge.
Combat Skills: David is a lover, not a fighter. Despite this he wouldn't have lived until the age of thirty if he wasn't somewhat experienced in combat. He is talented with his handgun and knows how to use most small arms effectively, but not with any amazing skill. In the end though David is a lover, he wont fight if he sees a better solution. This isn't to say he's a coward, he would rather die than abandon his friends in a fight, he just feels it's far better to keep his friends from having to fight in the first place.
Stealth: David isn't really one for stealth, he can be as quiet as the average human when he wants to be but there is no actual skill there.
Weapons: David carries a http://www.sigsauer.com/upFiles/catalog/product/220-Scorpion-detail-Hero.jpg Scorpion concealed in a holster underneath his jacket for when he really needs it as well as two extra clips. He also carries a http://www.diamanco.gr/Upload/2.5798_Beretta_M9-low.jpg concealed under his jacket as well, on the opposite side of his P229. Lastly he has a http://img3.findthebest.com/sites/default/files/495/media/images/Smith_Wesson_Model_460XVR.jpg tucked into a holster on his hip. This handgun is visible and is rarely ever used. It was simply an added scare tactic for when he had to go and deal with potentially volatile people. Pronto is also a deadly weapon, able to overpower threats and tear throats out with ease.
Apparel: David wears an old worn brown leather jacket over a relatively clean black t-shirt. He wears old dark blue denim jeans as well black hiking boots which are in reasonably good condition.
Miscellaneous: David carries a backpack in which he keeps the majority of his crap. This includes an old leather covered journal and a few pens and pencils. A drinking flask as well as a bottle or two of whiskey, some food which tends to be eaten and later restocked as well as some ammo for the rarely used handgun he keeps holstered.
Biography: David was luckier than most kids in the Mojave wasteland because of the one simple fact that he had two hard working and reasonably caring parents. His father was Michael Woods, a renowned captain in the NCR's army. Michael was a great man and an even better soldier. He truly did care about the men and women he was tasked with watching over and treated them in a similar fashion to what he treated David himself like when training and instructing them. Some kids would have hated that; to be treated the same as the people whom their father was basically the boss of, but David loved it. He loved feeling like one of the soldiers and the amazing feeling was enhanced by his fathers encouragement and the fact that he constantly treated them all so well.
David's mother was a caravan trader for Crimson Caravan. She too was quite the woman. She knew how to handle both her words and a gun and didn't shy away from being the boss of people when it was called for. David loved spending time with his mother even more than he did with his father. His mother travelled a lot and soon began taking David along on her journeys and trade routes. From a young age David was taught how to read by his mother and how to interact in a way that made him well liked and very sociable from very early on. From the time of when he was fourteen he had began actually trading, often covering for his mum when she needed some sleep. Like his mother he was a natural at the trading game and soon developed a silver tongue, quite often making a decent profit off of his sold goods.
There was one bad thing about the boys parents however; they loved their jobs more than they did each other. For the first six or so years of his life David was raised in Camp McCarran. It wasn't safe for him to routinely go and visit his mother that young so instead she came to him in the military camp. Eventually the time came though when he could make the journey reasonably safely with his father or a soldier or two at his side. Then he would regularly start spending certain amounts of time with each parent. Most of the time he would live at McCarran with his father. He really did love it, especially when his father started training him in the usage of handguns in which David had taken a huge interest in from a very young age. He would also run laps and eventually the run the training course with the other soldiers. It was pretty tough for the kid sometimes, he had been pretty secluded his whole life and didn't know death like most people in the wasteland. He would often befriend recruits in training in the camp and would later be devastated to hear of their deaths. Eventually though he grew more use to it and learned to accept and even embrace the fact that the world was a very dangerous place.
When his father had to go out on a tour or mission David was sent to live with his mother for a while. Depending on the length of his fathers mission he would either simply stay at the base of the Crimson Caravan Company or he would join his mother on a trading expedition and travel places for vast profit. Either way David highly enjoyed it, if he had to stay at the base he would often go into Freeside and pass time watching shows with the King. His mother had a special trading arrangement with the man and thus David was allowed certain privileges. If they did have to go out travelling David loved that too, more so as he got older and certain other adventures could be chased whilst on these journeys. He grew to love travelling and grew to be an extraordinarily skilled young man even at the age of eighteen. Due to his fathers handgun training and his mothers tutoring in literature and the like he was quite the unique teenager.
The next few years passed carrying more or less of the same. His father would train him like he always had in fitness and firearms and his mother would do more or less the same with words and the world in general. Both parents cared a great deal about the boy. Finally though it was time for the boy to get a job. He questioned both parents about their careers and finally came to the conclusion that becoming a trader would be best. It paid a hell of a lot more lucratively and held far less chance of David being shot and killed. Though there was still a chance that he would be, there was a chance of that with pretty much any profession in the wasteland.
David was already well known in the caravan company because of his mother and her renowned skill as a trader, but over the next couple of years David went on to make a real name for himself. He was probably one of the greatest traders in the New Vegas branch. He was making a killing off his trading expeditions and it wasn't only the trading he was known for. He was also renowned for his skill with a handgun. Every now and then a deal would get out of hand; sometimes it was pretty much inevitable. David became near famous for the speed in which he could draw his handgun and lay waste to the small amount of enemies. He was also a great traveller, and still held the love for it he had from when he was a young boy.
Eventually the second battle of Hoover Dam came, although David himself didn't really pay all that much attention to the event. He was always far too busy out on trading expeditions and such to get caught up in events such as war. He didn't however feel the same way by the time the battle was over. His father was killed defending civilians in Freeside. Whilst the battle of Hoover Dam raged on the powder keg that was the feud between the locals of Freeside and the NCR settlers exploded and caused a violent riot. In the chaos of this riot a man ended up being aggressive towards one of the Securitrons guarding the gate into New Vegas and rather stupidly ended up attacking the robot. This caused the robots to turn hostile and gun the man down.
The brutal act was enough to fuel the fire of the already chaotic rioters. They attacked the robots further but were no match for their upgraded systems. It was a massacre. David's father came in with his squad to try and protect the civilians but more than half of them were killed off, David's father included. When David found out what had happened to his father upon returning from an expedition he was devastated and violently angry that the man whom had been responsible for it all was now running Vegas. David wanted more than anything to kill the bastard. For his mother and his own sense of self preservation though he did not make an attempt on the extremely dangerous man's life.
Instead he left. He didn't want to be anywhere near Vegas whilst it was in the condition it was in. He travelled towards Salt Lake City with a caravan that was headed there, trading along the way and even buying a puppy Kangal in which he named Pronto off of another trader they passed. By the time they got to the city David along with his savings had saved up around six thousand caps. Using the money he started up his own sort of hardcoe trading company in SLC. He made a lot of caps, especially when he inevitably became connected to The Clave's empire and eventually joined them, working directly for their leader. Over the next few years he made a killing working for Dutch. He also became a hell of a lot more dangerous. The deals he was sent on in the extremely violent city had a habit of getting viscous and he was forced to kill a few people once in about every four deals he made, making him an even more effective killer than he had been renowned as being back in the Mojave.
Yeah, it was truly a good life despite the violent life, whether David was constantly haunted by his past or not he couldn't deny that he lived better than most of the population, especially in SLC. Once again though, the Courier came, once again brutally devastating David and the things he had grown to love. The Courier had to die, and David swore he would be nearby when he met his end. Ideally he'd watch as Pronto ate the destructive bastard.
---
Name: Pronto
Species: Kangal Dog
Personality: Pronto is an extremely loyal dog. He will protect David until his dying breath and is also fiercely protective of the Clave raiders in general, thinking of them as more or less his flock or family to protect. He is also quite intelligent for a dog, usually knowing when to act and when not to. He is extremely friendly to most of the raiders, but can dislike certain people for one reason or another occasionally.
http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs37/f/2008/287/5/5/Kangal_by_ShadoWolfDemon.jpg Pronto is a large dog, being a Kangal. The breed of dog was originally meant as a guardian of flocks in areas such as Turkey where the breed originated from. It was bred to scare off or even fight animals such as wolves, bears and modernly cheetahs. Like you would expect from a dog expected to do these things it is large and rather opposing in stature and build. Pronto himself has a tan coat with certain black parts on his ears, eyes and muzzle.
Name: David Woods
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height: 5'11
Age: 30
http://www.ultimofashions.co.uk/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/380x514/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/c/a/californication-hank-moody-jacket.jpg David has a rugged look going on like the majority of raiders yet he somehow manages to stand out amongst people anywhere despite not having the best body in the world or being all that young and athletic. He has an average build and is reasonably healthy but doesn't come close to standing out fitness wise when compared to a lot of the other killers in the Clave. His build is pretty much average, he isn't fat nor slim but he does try to keep himself in reasonable fighting shape for when he absolutely needs to be. He has hazel coloured eyes, overgrown brown hair and slight stubble. He also has a very small scar on his right cheek.
Moral Alignment: Neutral; leaning more towards good than bad.
Personality: David is overall a pretty good guy, especially for a raider. He is generally loved or hated by most people, often acting like a charmer and generally not caring what others think about him or his opinions the majority of the time. Although sometimes he just hides how much he actually does care by using this trait as cover. He is a life long lady killer and is far nicer and generally more open to the fairer six than he is with men. He has an overall suave personality that has gotten him in bad and good situations throughout his life. He is an extremely good humoured man and will often joke about pretty much anything and everything. His best trait is probably his sheer doggedness. David never gives up, whether this trait of his is being aimed towards women or war, the outcome is usually the same since he never quits. He is also extremely loyal, especially to those he considers his friends and will always defend them when he feels they need him, which he feels is always. Most of the time David is an extremely calm and in control guy but if something or someone he cares about is insulted or threatened he is often quick to lose his temper.
Role in The Clave: Trader, Diplomat and settlement scouter.
Non-Combat Skills: David's best skill overall is his talent with words. He is a massive people person and is usually liked by even those who try to hate him. He will use words and general charm to persuade or barter with people to get what he wants or needs. He is also literate and keeps a journal that he often writes in. Due to his people skills he would often work as a diplomat, trader and settlement scouter for the Clave. He doesn't look like a raider and thus blends into settlements and such far easier than most. David's years of trading have also given him a keen eye when it comes to people. He can often read people reasonably well to better assess both the situation and them themselves to get himself a better overall solution with this special found knowledge.
Combat Skills: David is a lover, not a fighter. Despite this he wouldn't have lived until the age of thirty if he wasn't somewhat experienced in combat. He is talented with his handgun and knows how to use most small arms effectively, but not with any amazing skill. In the end though David is a lover, he wont fight if he sees a better solution. This isn't to say he's a coward, he would rather die than abandon his friends in a fight, he just feels it's far better to keep his friends from having to fight in the first place.
Stealth: David isn't really one for stealth, he can be as quiet as the average human when he wants to be but there is no actual skill there.
Weapons: David carries a http://www.sigsauer.com/upFiles/catalog/product/220-Scorpion-detail-Hero.jpg Scorpion concealed in a holster underneath his jacket for when he really needs it as well as two extra clips. He also carries a http://www.diamanco.gr/Upload/2.5798_Beretta_M9-low.jpg concealed under his jacket as well, on the opposite side of his P229. Lastly he has a http://img3.findthebest.com/sites/default/files/495/media/images/Smith_Wesson_Model_460XVR.jpg tucked into a holster on his hip. This handgun is visible and is rarely ever used. It was simply an added scare tactic for when he had to go and deal with potentially volatile people. Pronto is also a deadly weapon, able to overpower threats and tear throats out with ease.
Apparel: David wears an old worn brown leather jacket over a relatively clean black t-shirt. He wears old dark blue denim jeans as well black hiking boots which are in reasonably good condition.
Miscellaneous: David carries a backpack in which he keeps the majority of his crap. This includes an old leather covered journal and a few pens and pencils. A drinking flask as well as a bottle or two of whiskey, some food which tends to be eaten and later restocked as well as some ammo for the rarely used handgun he keeps holstered.
Biography: David was luckier than most kids in the Mojave wasteland because of the one simple fact that he had two hard working and reasonably caring parents. His father was Michael Woods, a renowned captain in the NCR's army. Michael was a great man and an even better soldier. He truly did care about the men and women he was tasked with watching over and treated them in a similar fashion to what he treated David himself like when training and instructing them. Some kids would have hated that; to be treated the same as the people whom their father was basically the boss of, but David loved it. He loved feeling like one of the soldiers and the amazing feeling was enhanced by his fathers encouragement and the fact that he constantly treated them all so well.
David's mother was a caravan trader for Crimson Caravan. She too was quite the woman. She knew how to handle both her words and a gun and didn't shy away from being the boss of people when it was called for. David loved spending time with his mother even more than he did with his father. His mother travelled a lot and soon began taking David along on her journeys and trade routes. From a young age David was taught how to read by his mother and how to interact in a way that made him well liked and very sociable from very early on. From the time of when he was fourteen he had began actually trading, often covering for his mum when she needed some sleep. Like his mother he was a natural at the trading game and soon developed a silver tongue, quite often making a decent profit off of his sold goods.
There was one bad thing about the boys parents however; they loved their jobs more than they did each other. For the first six or so years of his life David was raised in Camp McCarran. It wasn't safe for him to routinely go and visit his mother that young so instead she came to him in the military camp. Eventually the time came though when he could make the journey reasonably safely with his father or a soldier or two at his side. Then he would regularly start spending certain amounts of time with each parent. Most of the time he would live at McCarran with his father. He really did love it, especially when his father started training him in the usage of handguns in which David had taken a huge interest in from a very young age. He would also run laps and eventually the run the training course with the other soldiers. It was pretty tough for the kid sometimes, he had been pretty secluded his whole life and didn't know death like most people in the wasteland. He would often befriend recruits in training in the camp and would later be devastated to hear of their deaths. Eventually though he grew more use to it and learned to accept and even embrace the fact that the world was a very dangerous place.
When his father had to go out on a tour or mission David was sent to live with his mother for a while. Depending on the length of his fathers mission he would either simply stay at the base of the Crimson Caravan Company or he would join his mother on a trading expedition and travel places for vast profit. Either way David highly enjoyed it, if he had to stay at the base he would often go into Freeside and pass time watching shows with the King. His mother had a special trading arrangement with the man and thus David was allowed certain privileges. If they did have to go out travelling David loved that too, more so as he got older and certain other adventures could be chased whilst on these journeys. He grew to love travelling and grew to be an extraordinarily skilled young man even at the age of eighteen. Due to his fathers handgun training and his mothers tutoring in literature and the like he was quite the unique teenager.
The next few years passed carrying more or less of the same. His father would train him like he always had in fitness and firearms and his mother would do more or less the same with words and the world in general. Both parents cared a great deal about the boy. Finally though it was time for the boy to get a job. He questioned both parents about their careers and finally came to the conclusion that becoming a trader would be best. It paid a hell of a lot more lucratively and held far less chance of David being shot and killed. Though there was still a chance that he would be, there was a chance of that with pretty much any profession in the wasteland.
David was already well known in the caravan company because of his mother and her renowned skill as a trader, but over the next couple of years David went on to make a real name for himself. He was probably one of the greatest traders in the New Vegas branch. He was making a killing off his trading expeditions and it wasn't only the trading he was known for. He was also renowned for his skill with a handgun. Every now and then a deal would get out of hand; sometimes it was pretty much inevitable. David became near famous for the speed in which he could draw his handgun and lay waste to the small amount of enemies. He was also a great traveller, and still held the love for it he had from when he was a young boy.
Eventually the second battle of Hoover Dam came, although David himself didn't really pay all that much attention to the event. He was always far too busy out on trading expeditions and such to get caught up in events such as war. He didn't however feel the same way by the time the battle was over. His father was killed defending civilians in Freeside. Whilst the battle of Hoover Dam raged on the powder keg that was the feud between the locals of Freeside and the NCR settlers exploded and caused a violent riot. In the chaos of this riot a man ended up being aggressive towards one of the Securitrons guarding the gate into New Vegas and rather stupidly ended up attacking the robot. This caused the robots to turn hostile and gun the man down.
The brutal act was enough to fuel the fire of the already chaotic rioters. They attacked the robots further but were no match for their upgraded systems. It was a massacre. David's father came in with his squad to try and protect the civilians but more than half of them were killed off, David's father included. When David found out what had happened to his father upon returning from an expedition he was devastated and violently angry that the man whom had been responsible for it all was now running Vegas. David wanted more than anything to kill the bastard. For his mother and his own sense of self preservation though he did not make an attempt on the extremely dangerous man's life.
Instead he left. He didn't want to be anywhere near Vegas whilst it was in the condition it was in. He travelled towards Salt Lake City with a caravan that was headed there, trading along the way and even buying a puppy Kangal in which he named Pronto off of another trader they passed. By the time they got to the city David along with his savings had saved up around six thousand caps. Using the money he started up his own sort of hardcoe trading company in SLC. He made a lot of caps, especially when he inevitably became connected to The Clave's empire and eventually joined them, working directly for their leader. Over the next few years he made a killing working for Dutch. He also became a hell of a lot more dangerous. The deals he was sent on in the extremely violent city had a habit of getting viscous and he was forced to kill a few people once in about every four deals he made, making him an even more effective killer than he had been renowned as being back in the Mojave.
Yeah, it was truly a good life despite the violent life, whether David was constantly haunted by his past or not he couldn't deny that he lived better than most of the population, especially in SLC. Once again though, the Courier came, once again brutally devastating David and the things he had grown to love. The Courier had to die, and David swore he would be nearby when he met his end. Ideally he'd watch as Pronto ate the destructive bastard.
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Name: Pronto
Species: Kangal Dog
Personality: Pronto is an extremely loyal dog. He will protect David until his dying breath and is also fiercely protective of the Clave raiders in general, thinking of them as more or less his flock or family to protect. He is also quite intelligent for a dog, usually knowing when to act and when not to. He is extremely friendly to most of the raiders, but can dislike certain people for one reason or another occasionally.
http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs37/f/2008/287/5/5/Kangal_by_ShadoWolfDemon.jpg Pronto is a large dog, being a Kangal. The breed of dog was originally meant as a guardian of flocks in areas such as Turkey where the breed originated from. It was bred to scare off or even fight animals such as wolves, bears and modernly cheetahs. Like you would expect from a dog expected to do these things it is large and rather opposing in stature and build. Pronto himself has a tan coat with certain black parts on his ears, eyes and muzzle.
