IN THE GRIM DARKNESS OF THE FAR FUTURE THERE IS ONLY WAR
"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die.Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
Greetings, one and all.
After much deliberation, I have simply decided to go with a setting that I know as well as the back of my hand, and in this particular case it would be the setting of the table-top game Warhammer 40,000. I could equally have gone for the fantasy version of said game, but I am far more partial to travelling around the Milky Way galaxy and just generally causing mayhem therein.
Let me set out to you a few simple rules, and indeed guidelines, for this proposal.
Character Creation/Profiles
Here is the character profile/registration format, which needs to followed exactly. When created, one must Private Message the profile to the moderation (me) for approval.
Code:Username: Character Name: Race/Species: Gender: Age: Career (if any) and Skills: Weapons: Attire: Equipment/Other Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): Mental Description/Personality: Background/History:
Extra Bits'N'Pieces/The Plan
While in the universe of WH40K there are any number of scenarios etc that could be played out, I intend to begin this one during the voyage of a Rogue Trader. In this way the players can congregate as a rag-tag group, but also gives the chance for a variety of characters.
Now, I will allow any characters within reason. That means that anything essentially non-humanoid is prohibited (Tyranids, Necrons etc), while I shall allow anything from an Ork to a Tau to a human of one of a billion billion different worlds. He is, after all, a Rogue Trader and therefore mingles with many races not usually associated with the strict Imperium and their religious (and secular) orders.
So, once I get enough interest (and a few profiles, if you're that interested), I shall begin writing up an IC thread that will lay out the beginning of a fresh adventure into the unknown.
The Setting
Rogue Trader, also known as Trader Militant by some, Horatio Drake has been charged by the Imperium he serves to go to places where others cannot, to explore worlds off-limit to all but a select few-including those with Warrants issued to them one way or another. This former Inquisitor of the Order Xenos must first gather his crew about him- a motley band of exiles, merchents, renegades and more from any number of species or races -before taking his crew, and his ship, into the outlying regions of the Milky Way Galaxy. It is not for he to know what he may find there, for only the Emperor on his Golden Throne can see all ends but, driven by more than a simple mission tasked to him, Horatio will cease at nothing to find what he seeks, whether it be a new alien species, a distant planet for colonisation, or even one of the long-lost STC's themselves.
There are always new planets to seize, new worlds to explore, and always the chilling void of space.
And in the grim darkness of the 41st millenium, there is only war.
Useful Links
http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Rogue_Traders
http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Warhammer_40k_Wiki
Players & Their Character Profiles
McScottish - Rogue Trader - Horatio Drake
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username: McScottish
Character Name: Horatio Drake of House Drake
Race/Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 63, but looks to be in his mid-twenties thanks to the wonders of technology.
Career (if any) and Skills: See history/background below.
Weapons: Not a man to be weighed down by weapons, he carries only one or two at any one time. The most common is a well-balanced Hecate Pattern chainsword that never leaves his side, deactivated at all times unless being prepared for use. The other, for no Rogue Trader should be absent of a ranged weapon, is a Cadian Pattern Hellpistol, both of which are wielded with deadly proficiency.
Attire: While it is common for most Traders to be as flamboyant as possible, seeing it as a deterent to any potential assailants, Drake does not share this view and in fact tries to keep both his personality and his clothing choices as neutral as possible. To this end he favours various outfits of military style- tightly cut, with buttons that shine, and epaulettes -that remain unmarked with rank or regiment and are commonly of the darkest colour he can procure. As such flak-vests of almost black are concealed by black-buttoned and high-collared jackets of deep green, knee-high boots of polished black on his lithe but muscular legs, and equally green trousers sporting a blood-red stripe covering his lower extremeties.
Equipment/Other: Aside from the standard med-packs, extra ammo mags and Warrant of Trade which never leaves his person, Horatio carries very little. Maybe a Lho-Stick or two, perhaps an Auspex in the field, but the majority of the time whatever he has on his person is concealed and unknown...if there is anything at all.
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): Horatio is, oddly, quite average in appearance; around six-feet and two-inches tall, with broad shoulders but a rather slender frame, he is not what one would expect from a man raised to be a warrior. Beneath his clothing his frame of pale skin, a trait due to his Terran heritage, would show the muscular workings of one who devoted himself to the arts of war- from the old unarmed crafts of Terra, to the use of sword, chain-blade and ranged weapon. Though slender, even feminine to look at, his body is covered in muscle like whipcords which wrap tightly about the bone but are able to propel his limbs and core through any conflict. Facially he has the look of a hawk; large green eyes beneath thin and arching brows of black hair give way to an aquiline nose, hovering as it does above a thin-lipped mouth which rarely smiles, a mane of jaw-length hair of the same obsidian black commonly tied into a topknot or left to move freely of its own accord. Not a mark marrs his ivory skin, nothing from a scar to a burn to a scratch, a case really of sheer luck rather than anything else.
Mental Description/Personality: the mindset of Horatio is essentially this; though it is different, it may not necessarily be dangerous. His years as a loner in the Calixis Schola Progenium, friendless but an eager student, left him untrustworthy of others and, over the years, he has actually garnered more friendship with non-humans than his own kind. Nonetheless, he has managed to nurture connections in the past that endure to this day, in the Guard, Navy and even among some Chapters of the Adeptus Astartes.
As a person he is private, yet highly thoughtful, seeing and assessing almost constantly the dangers or rewards of a specific task or action. Loneliness is not for him though, and is more-or-less what has driven him to seek out a crew of his own...that and the idea that greater rewards come with greater numbers.
Lastly, his dedication to the Emperor, although partially bent due to his personal beliefs, it unquestionable.
Brief Background/History:
Drake began life much as his father had, lounging in the comfortable lifestyle of the Terran nobility, without much aim and certainly without any real purpose to speak of. After years of debauchery and playing the wealthy eldest son, his father Winston Drake had finally had enough of his useless prodigy. In desperation he sent this scion of his own House, the firstborn of his own blood, into the fanatical arms of the Calixis Sectors Schola Progenium- hoping and praying that with the stern (and rigourously enforced) discipline of the Drill Abbots he may become a more active and pious man.
During his abscence his younger brother Walter was raised into his place, a paragon of good breeding and noble finesse who had lived the life of a refined gentleman since he could walk. Yes, Walter was everything that his brother was not and his father loved him for it.
Needless to say that Horatio did not take to the lessons pressed upon him by the Progenium, questioning and prying at every scripture and fable he was taught, railing against the dogma that they sough to ingrain into him. Not that he ever let this show. Outwardly he was the perfect student, obeying orders and living the restrained life of a religious servant, but inwardly he was something else...someone else.
Slowly but surely his martial leanings were noticed, and by the time of his teenage years he was being trained almost completely for a future career in the military of the Imperium.
It was only by his mid-twenties that Horatio finally became free of the Progenium, this young Progena having his qualities noticed by a visiting representative of the Inquisition to the Calaxis Sector, a man that would soon become his mentor and a replacement for the father that had given him away.
Inquisitor Thrane Picton had been sent to the Calixis Sector by the Ordo Xenos many years before, both to study the numerous contacts with Xenos species taking place each day on this rim of the galaxy, and to make certain that any 'corruption' among the sectors inhabitants was erased immediatly and not allowed to spread. They could not have known, or simply ignored, Pictons leanings toward radicalism and very soon the sect of radicalism in that sector known as the Xenos Hybris.
Over the next decade or so, after a selection process that may well have broken many lesser men, Horatio was to become the acolyte of Picton; from Thrane he would learn lessons outside of the Imperial creed, beyond the limits of Imperial law, including ways to see those marked as enemies instead as potential allies. Xenos lore, tech and customs became a part of his life, the seeking of that which could benefit the Imperium a primary goal for the older Inquisitor and his young apprentice. By the time he reached his thirtieth year Horatio was already familier with the workings of the Calixis Conclave, and with the many Xenos species which could be encountered in the fringe-regions of the Halo Stars and Koronus Expanse, where settlers made their own laws and the writ of the Imperium need not apply.
So much knowledge, so much to learn.
It was during the forty-sixth year of his life, after nearly three decades of absorbing, imitating and searching, that his mentor was tried for heresy against the Imperium and executed. Why or who informed upon him was never entirely revealed, but Horatio always had suspicions. It could have been any of one his teachers varied and many contacts, members of his retinue, even his own Cadian bodyguard.
As only an apprentice, it was concluded by a tribunal of senior Inquisitors that Horatio was innocent of his mentors actions...though not entirely. Due to his birth as a member of a noble House (if without contact for most of his life), he was given the option of exile from the Inqusition- though not from observation by agents of the organisation -or to take up a Warrant of Trade, and in his voyages through the outer fringes of the Imperium expunge the misdeeds of his teacher and adopted father-figure, whether real or simply falsified it mattered not.
Needless to say, he took the Warrant and a ship, the Victrix, a simple vessel outfitted with few weapons but capable of repelling small parties of raiders if necessary. Since then he has travelled for billions of miles, from one end of the galaxy to the other, all the while in isolation and as a solitary figure.
Now he has decided it is time to gather a retinue of his own...
Ace_General - Ex Naval Officer - Buchannan Macharius Hightower(Blown apart by friendly fire, for disobeying the rules)
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Character Name: Buchannan Macharius Hightower, or more commonly 'Commander Buck'
Race/Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 40s
Career (if any) and Skills:Imperial Navy Officer. Started out as an ensign assigned to the navy armsmen(essentially dudes with shotguns who do all kinds of boarding and space combat). Then upon his promotion to full Lieutenant, he served for awhile as a ground fire support officer in several major seiges. After that, he was promoted to Lieutenant commander and served as second officer on a Imperial Corvette.
Skills are: Helming a ship. Tactical naval command. Firearms/ship to ship space combat. Knowlege of the workings and employment and targeting of Imperial ship based weapons and xenos ships. Basic infantry combat skills. Expert on imperial weapons and collecter due to his time as a armesmen and a planetside naval fire support officer. Also, a enthusiast of wrestling and various combat grappling systems
Weapons: Everyday carry(On duty on deck in normal travel/on a friendly world)ual modified heavy las pistols , boot knife, cutdown las pistol in a concealment holster(with modern police and other tatical groups, carrying a small backup pistol is quite normal) (The idea behind the two pistols was to have a sorta wild american frontier feeling, like the sherrif or cowboy or real life Texan congressmen that wore to walker colt horse pistols at all times till the day he died. And I wish to sorta keep that wild cowboy American military officer theme going and having to honking pistols hanging off his hips is a part of that)
Deep concealment: Cutdown las pistol in concealment holster, boot knife
Combat kit: Semi-Auto combat combat shotgun. Pistols in a shoulder holsters thats integrated in a chest rig containing extra ammo and a knife, along with grenades. Same for ground based combat, but has a heavily modified hotshot las with holographic and telescopic sights and various grips, (sorta similar to the setup of todays AR-15s and M4/m16 rifles)
Attire: Always wears Imperial navy Peaked cap and greatcoat and boots. Then a naval tunic with several medals, worn at almost all times, and finally a undershirt and trousers. When going planetside or if a boarding operation is likely, has naval armsmen armor(equivalent of reinforced flak armor), upgraded with a helmet off a dead shock trooper(which was further modified to interface with a vox caster)
Equipment/Other: Keeps a small medical "blow out kit" attacked to the suspenders of his gunbelt. A bulletproof and las-resistant cloth armor attached to the inside of his Imperial navy tunic, along with Plas-steel plates in the shouler boards of his greatcoat, as well as similar cloth armor, hence his always wearing of those garmets. Eye replaced with artifical eye that can see in multiple spectrums, as well as serve as a basic targeting system.
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): Tall and stocky with a powerful, hulking frame. 6'4 with shoulders like sides of beef, with large, untoned muscles due to power weight lifting, but the start of a gut. Has a very sqaure jaw and block-like head, fitting to the rest of his body, with impeccably combed over hair(Ronald Reagan like lol) and a large bushy mustache. Grey eyes and dark blonde/light brown hair.
Mental Description/Personality: Your gung ho, red blooded, cigar chomping, Jingoistic, human Chauvnist "LETS BLOW BLEEP UP" Imperial Navy officer. Loves explosions and weaponry of all types. Firm believer in the Imperium and Emperor. Extremely proud of his naval service and honors.
Background. A very bright and gung-ho officer, Buck took to naval service very well. But not being part of the old Aristocracy or a family of admirals lead him to very dangerous and exciting, but unglamorous assignments. This lead to him not being promoted as fast as his more privileged peers. Buck's habit of tinkering with the equipment under his command lead him to fall onto the bad side of the machine cult, as did his hot tempered nature lead to him running up large debts and fighting many deuls with his more privileged peers. Because of the enemies he made, along with not being able to cover his debts, Buck decides to join the crew of Horatio Drake, an inquisitor whom he had dealings with who seemed to share his views on wanting to strengthen the Imperium at any cost over the dogmas of the current old guard of the Imperium[/B]
Bastard Feudalism - Outcast Warlock-in-training - Solat'Suith (Or Sol)
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username: Bastard Feudalism
Character Name: Solat'suith
Race/Species: Eldar
Gender: Male
Age: Around one-and-a-half centuries old
Career and Skills: Outcast Warlock.
Weapons: Shuriken Pistol, a sword that- if it wasn't for the Xenos origin -could be compared to the 'katana' of Feudal Japan on Ancient Terra. The blade is able to be folded, made of material that seems to eerily remain always sharp, extending into a full blade for combat.
Attire:
The Eldar are, in the popular minds of the Imperium, a striking sight arrayed in clear wraithbone armor and uncanny face masks.
Sol, as he is commonly called, does not indulge this, and instead dons the attire of a wander - a hooded cloak and assorted armor fitting a bounty hunter. Though he still carries wraithbone as much as he can, the material is hard to acquire and keep up out in mannish space.
When casual occasions truly arise, he might be seen without all his travel and battle ridden over-wear, instead revealed in a comfortable under-robe of neutral colors fitting his frame sleekly.
Equipment/Other: Besides the sleek, bounty hunter-like armor fitted with assorted pieces of both Eldar and human make that Sol currently carries, the Ulthwe Outcast carries a few precious runes, his soul stone underneath his armor in the style of an amulet, and some simple items like a water sack and a small pouch of assorted currency.
Physical Description: Beyond being an Eldar (biologically tall and lithe to humans), Solat'suith has long, dark locks of hair that are typically tossled about in a mess, sometimes to one side. His eyes are a rare silvered grey, and as such, he can be mistaken for a dark cousin of the Webway without the jewelry and other adornments.
Mental Description/Personality:
Being a longterm outcast at this point, Solat'suith is a much more ambivalent soul than the young Seer who fled from Ulthwe so many decades ago. Under neverending stress and danger from the warp and the ever growing threat of losing one's way, Eldar outcasts rarely last so long on their own.
As such, Sol is on the brink: he knows he must return to Ulthwe to heal his mind and find sanctuary, but he cannot accept what that might bring, what punishments might await him for his decade-old actions, what impassioned feelings a homecoming would light aflame.
Solat'suith is historically unstable, but has been able to hide from the Warp's perils by adhering to a personal code.
Background/History:
Solat'suith, or Sol, was born of Ulthwe, close to the Eye of Terror and the Deathbringers.
He started on the Path of the Seer at an early age, harnessing his psychic energy under barriers much more easily than his childhood peers, and going under the tutelage of powerful seers, even learning from the Farseers at certain points.
Reaching a more mature age, Sol was abruptly shifted to join the Black Guardians, serving his Craftworld against the near Warp and some more distant dangers. This disrupted his development, throwing his balance into disarray, but he was kept along by the companionship of his friend and love, Evathema.
Some decades passed, his Solat'suith was able to return to the structure of the Witching Path, but found it different as he came back to it. Evathema scorned him for another, and Sol lost control of his emotions.
The other suitor was slain one night, and the perpetrator fled across space, taking up with a Corsair fleet.
Trot - Void born gunslinger and heretical skeptic - Logan Kaldar(Turned out to be a Genestealer Hybrid...)
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username: Trot
Character Name: Logan Kaldar
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Appearance: Logan is a tall man lean man. He is somewhat lanky and at first glance many believe him to be a clumsy at first glance. This makes many miss the dangerous grace he moves with at first glance. He has dirty blond hair; almost brown hair, and dark green eyes.
Weapons: Logan is a simple man who favors simple weapons. He has two pistols in holsters at his hip at all times. He doesn’t see the need for anything else. His first pistol is his father’s old kinetic revolver. Because it was a kinetic weapon the pirates didn’t see it worth taking compared to the wealth of laser weaponry. His second weapon is a las-pistol given to him by his mentor Jason before he went away.
Attire: Logan wears a long brown trench coat over his brown button down shirt, and light khaki pants. His clothes are often unkempt as though he has slept in them, because he so often does. He wears a pair of brown leather boats fitted to his feet.
Personality: He is a solemn quiet man. He speaks rarely and believes his actions speak louder than his words. He bears a hatred for the empire and cares little for the empire, and absolutely nothing for the emperor. He looks down on outlaws and traders looking at their motives as selfish, but is more than willing to take their money.
History: He was a void born. He grew up on a merchant ship where his father worked as a ship guard. He and his older sister Kara grew up very close. Being one of very few children on this merchant ship they needed to be close to surviving. With his father working long hours guarding the merchant ship Kara worked to raise him.
At the age of 11 a group of pirates boarded the trader ship Logan lived on. The pirates burst into the room where he and his older sister Kara were hiding. His sister was found and the pirates took her and the rest of the people on the transport with them when they left speaking of the price they would get for this hall. Logan vividly remembers the pirates talking about how the Empire would just leave ignore the attack attributing it to “elder raids”. Logan remained in hiding for 5 days before hunger drove him to explore the ship. There he found his father’s dead body on the ground. Logan picked up his father’s guns swearing to avenge his family and one day find his lost sister. Eventually a group of mercenaries found his ship floating in the endless blackness of space. An elderly mercenary named Jason found the boy and took him in treating him like a son. The mercenaries with Jason were all races and creeds. Ork, Tau, and Elder all treated Logan well while he was aboard the ship. He never could forget that it was humans that took his family and a bad of aliens that took him in. Jason taught him how to shoot and fight. He brought the boys confidence back and taught him what he needed to avenge his family. One day Logan decided to leave to pursue his family’s killers. Jason gave Logan his second pistol. He left his two pistols on his hips taking on jobs as a mercenary while looking for the people who hurt his family.
Zectorman - An Arbites with a problem - Durante Ockham
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username: Zectorman
Character Name: Durante Ockham
Race/Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Career (if any) and Skills: Adeptus Arbites/ Arbitrator.
Weapons: Ultima Pattern Arbites Power Maul- Vox Legi-Pattern Arbites Combat Shotgun
Attire: Adeptus Arbites Carapace Armour. Modified through years of work, Red armbands on both arms.
Equipment/Other : tiny amount of Executioner shells, scavenged and kept secret throughout his years of work.
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): 5’8 , burly build. None of it is fat though, it’s almost all muscle. Dark brown hair, with a few streaks of gray, and a 5 o’clock shadow that never seems to go away. Hazel eyes.
Mental Description/Personality: He like many other imperials is a devout believer in the Emperor. But he places his faith and his mind is separate compartments of his mind. There is a time and place for each. Above everything else, Durante is a realist when it comes to his place in the universe. He has a simple, cynical view of humanity that helps him mentally cope with the work he does every hour of his life. Hetries to do his duty as well he can to make his small shred of space a little less dark, though having to commit to a darkness of his own. Being an arbites is not for the faint of heart or for those that would ever doubt what they were doing was wrong. He carries a self-assuredness that gives him the strength to live and fight in such a universe.
Background/History:
Born on a Feral world he came barely remember, with a name he has forgotten, Durante was taken in by the Schola Progenium. Suddenly given a name to replace his barbaric one though his upbringing by the drill abbots could be described as just as barbaric as anything from his long forgotten home world. Stubborn and not making many friends, refusing to put up with others idiocy and games, he was found to be fit for the Adeptus Arbites. After years of training he had sharpened his detecting skills as well as his way around subduing large amounts of people. He was assigned to Port Wander, a place where every body was needed and where new arbites either learned fast or found a knife in the back.
The young Arbitrator took to his work methodically and had no trouble fitting into his new home. Putting people in their place and searching for criminal or cultist scum occupied his mind so he had no complaints. He kept busy and stayed away from any politics or subversion. Of course this attracted him all the typical attention someone doing good work for the law does, loads of people wanted him dead.
Of course this did not bother Durante at all, always staunch in his duties he never wavered. Though the run of the mill gangs, heretics or even higher up crime bosses never caused him to much trouble, it was the Navy and running aground with inquisitors that really goaded him; always casting his works into the void, told to cease his investigations lest he incur the wrath of his own government in one or more ways.
But of course, he always did continue killing all those that would get in his way for the search for truth and to bring judgment of the Emperor to the laws transgressors. Never playing the political game or keeping any friends, has he found himself facing the wrath of all the less than honest people in Port Wander, even from other devout imperials. He has quickly come to realize that he is quickly becoming the hunted, instead of the hunter.
Stannis the Mannis - An Elysian trooper with daddy issues - Uriel Kingson
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username:
Stannis the Mannis
Character Name:
Uriel Kingson
Race/Species:
Human, Elysian
Gender:
Male
Age:
36
Career:
- Elysian Planetary Defence Force
- Elysian 71st Drop Troop Regiment
- Frenar Planetary Defence Force
- Mercenary
Skills:
- Can pilot Valkyrie Assault Carriers
- Can perform High Altitude Grav-chute deployments
- Proficient with las weapons
- Skilled in close combat
Weapons:
Amelia (Lasgun (Accatran Pattern Mark IV)
Las pistol
Combat knife (serrated both sides)
Attire:
Standard Issue Elysian armour (coloured red with white highlights and definitions)
Carapace chest plate (front and back), kneepads, and shoulder-guards
Equipment/Other:
- Functioning Grav-chute
- extra ammunition and supplies (with a backpack which fits under the Grav-chute)
Physical Description:
- 6f 2in
- short blonde hair with the front swept from left to right
- crystal blue eyes that look like lightning in the clouds
- an unremarkable nose which is not broken
- gaunt cheeks which are covered in a short layer of bristle
- large, callused hands with long, strong fingers
- his nails are kept short and clean
- A flat stomach (six-pack)
- his muscle is like coils of rope
- he is quite lithe, but his compact muscle is very defined
- has a blackened crater wound on his right breast
- his ears are quite small
Mental Description/Personality:
- Distrusts those who claim superiority without proving themselves beforehand
- After a long period of internal conflict, Uriel now realises that to bring the greatness of the Imperium to the four corners hard choices must be made
- Distrusts aliens on principle
- Will not question the orders of a superior, whether that is an officer or employer
- When he sets his eyes on something, Uriel will try his hardest to achieve it
- Not quick to anger, but when he is provoked, the soldier is a sight to behold
- Used to believe that the honour of a cause defines a man, but realised that loyalty to duty is the true mark of a hero
Background/History:
He was conceived from the one-night stand of a soldier and a munitions worker. Without a father figure, Uriel learned everything from his mother, who glorified the man she had led in to her bed on the night before his shipping off for the distant stars.
Due to his mother's tales, the impressionable boy soon become fixated on the Imperial Guard, and in particular, the Elysian 71st: his father's regiment. As a child he worked in the same factory as his mother, helping to keep them just above impoverishment.
When Uriel was old enough, he enlisted with the Elysian Planetary Defence Force; the first step on the way to enlisting with a proper regiment.
There, the youth proved to be a good soldier, easily meeting the standards for frontline service ever before his tour in the PDF was finished.
At the age of 18, he got his wish, being named a replacement for the Elysian 71st Drop Troop Regiment. It took a year before he was actually united with his comrades, and in that time he trained hard to prove himself to his new brothers.
He fought in numerous campaigns across the Ultima Segment, from frozen planets devote of life to desert death worlds teeming with predatory life. After each fight, Uriel read the lists of the dead, hoping against hope that his father was not among them. The man tried for almost four years to find his father, before accepting the inevitable truth: he was dead.
This realisation did cause Uriel no small amount of pain, but he did not dwell on it for long. The regiment was never far from a fight, and this kept his mind from wandering.
During the Frenar Liberation War, a campaign which lasted three years, Uriel saw firsthand the atrocities committed by those who were supposed to be bringers of justice. Civilians, surrendering soldiers, even domestic animals, were butchered at the commands of High Command. What hit Uriel worst, was that the 71st, tired of the constant warfare, took part in the murders. They no longer listened to the pleading of pregnant women as they launched missiles in to nurseries and schools.
This caused the veteran to question the honour and right of their cause. He questioned himself, and guiltily found that he was not innocent. He had commanded firing squads of captured resistance fighter. Cities were bombed at his suggestion. He had stood back when an Exterminatus was issued against a lost planet.
At the end of the Frenar Conquest, for their long and glorious service to the Imperium, the 71st were disbanded and Frenar became their world. After twelve years of service, Uriel did not even understand civilian life. What made matters worse was that the population resented the new rulers for their actions during the war.
He attempted to serve in the PDF, alongside those who also couldn't stand the uncertainties of civvy life, but seeing the faces of fellow criminals did Uriel no help.
Eventually, Uriel left the planet and travelled north. To pay his way, the former lieutenant offered his services as a gun for hire. This line of work slowly eroded any last vestiges of compassion the man had left. He now looks back on the man who he once was, and laughs about his naive he was. Of course the pregnant women deserved to die: they were traitors, and they would teach their children to be traitors. Now he wants to make up for that lack of faith.
Tim1988 - No relation to the Viper of Dorne - Gavrillo 'Gav' Martell
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username: Tim1988
Character Name: Gavrillo (Gav) Martell
Race/Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Career (if any) and Skills: Reached the rank of Flight Sergeant in the Navy flying Thunderbolt attack aircraft. He is an excellent mechanic and gained a reputation of heavily modifying his aircraft.
Weapons: He always carries with him a holstered Las Pistol and combat knife. In his aircraft he also keeps a Lascarbine to hand.
Attire: Gav generally wears his old and faded Navy fatigues when out and about, though when at work at his workshop he is more likely to be seen sporting a set of dark blue mechanics overalls covered in oil stains.
Equipment/Other: In his workshop, Gav is currently repairing an old Navy Thunderbolt that he managed to purchase from a scrap dealer. Though it came with all weapons and engines removed, leaving little more than a rusting, metal shell, the craft has been lovingly worked on using parts from a whole host of other aircraft, both civilian and "military" acquired from the Black Market, and is nearing a state where it will be able to be flown.
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): At a little under 6', average build, with short, dark brown hair, Gav is fairly unremarkable in appearance. That is until he rolls back his left sleeve to reveal an augmetic arm, the result of an autocannon round fired from a rebel Hydra battery on Celarion V 10 years previously.
Mental Description/Personality: Gav is obsessed with aircraft and flying. He loves nothing more than being at the controls of a plane, soaring across the sky, twisting and turning as he pushes his craft to their limit. When not flying, he is usually found working on one of the aircraft in his workshop.
Although generally a calm character, he gained a reputation for recklessness at times, often having no regard for his own safety in the pursuit of thrills or his goals.
Background/History: Born into a poor family in the lower parts of a Hive City, Gav had little prospects in life short of joining one of the many gangs that plagued the tunnels and ratways. Things changed one day when a recruiting party from the Imperial Navy arrived and he seized the chance of a new life, outside of the permanent semi-darkness of the Hive.
Showing great promise, even at that young age, Gav soon found himself separated from the majority of his fellow conscripts, most of who ended up as naval ratings. He received extra training and tuition, firstly in aircraft maintenance, and then in flying itself from a young Wing Captain who saw his potential. By the age of 18, Gav was flying Thunderbolts regularly from the Light Cruiser Pride of the Emperor, and found himself involved in a number of actions against rebel held planets.
He soon gained a reputation of recklessness, someone who would push his craft to the very limit in order to get a kill, pulling off maneuvers far past what the manuals recommended. Over time, his craft slowly became more and more modified over time in order to gain that little extra performance. At first this mostly consisted the stripping down of any parts of the aircraft that Gav deemed unnecessary, but soon ran into adjusting the engines themselves and even overcharging some of the planes weaponry, a risky technique that provided much greater damage to the lascannons, but with the increasing risk of overheating or damaging his own craft.
This practice almost led to his downfall on the rebel held planet of Celarion V, when he was involved in a low level dogfight with a trio of enemy aircraft. Though he downed all three of them in a bitter fight, his engine was put through such strain that it eventually cut out as a result of its overclocking causing it to overheat past what the cooling systems could handle.
Struggling to control his craft, the rapidly descending Thunderbolt entered the firing arc of a rebel Hydra gun platform, which opened fire, the heavy autocannon rounds shredding through the aircraft. One of the rounds hit Gav just above his elbow, shattering his left arm. In his last act of consciousness, Gav was able to eject, his gravchute carrying him safely to the ground where he was rescued by guard forces on the ground, though his arm was little more than a mess of flesh and shattered bone that had to be removed and replaced by an augmetic.
After his recovery, Gav found himself put on charges and facing a Court Martial, the Navy considering his modifications to have caused the loss of the aircraft. His high kill ratio was largely ignored, and he found himself discharged from the Navy in disgrace.
Thinking his life as good as worthless, Gav managed to find work as an aircraft mechanic, where his experience working with fighter aircraft soon led to interest from some less than honest characters. After undertaking a series of lucrative contracts outfitting civilian aircraft with weapons systems and improved engines for a range of smugglers and pirates, he soon had enough money to purchase his own workshop. To this day, he spends most of his time here, buying old military and civilian aircraft destined for the scrap heap, doing them up and then selling them on for a great profit.
Jokern - A Commissar without a face - Terrela Fareton
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Username: Jokern
Character Name: Terrela Fareton
Race/Species: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 77
Career (if any) and Skills:
Commissar: she has gone through the strict and harsh training since a young age and has served as a Junior and regular Commissar in a Death Korps Grenadier Regiment for nearly 50 years.
Weapons:
Her weapons are a standard bolt pistol painted in grey and red, a power sabre with gilded hilt and a regular combat knife. Commissar Terella is also capable of wielding almost any weapon in the Imperial Officer’s Armoury, from lasguns to power fists and sniper rifles.
Attire:
As any Commissar, Terrela wears their standard uniform: black greatcoat with red lining on collar and cuffs and with gold and red epaulets, a black peaked officer’s cap with red lining and bearing the Aquila, black undercoat with gold braids over the chest, a red scar tied around the waist, black combat pants and combat boots. Over he
Equipment/Other:
Influenced by her years of service in the Death Korps of Krieg, Terrela carries only the most necessary equipment in the field: medpacks, ammunition and a handbook containing the Imperial Creed. A servo-skull named Gustav follows her around everywhere. She almost always wears a black-painted Krieg skull rebreather mask with a tube to the filter fastened in her belt.
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):
Commissar Terrela hides her appearance behind her uniform and rarely shows anyone what she looks like, though one can tell that she is of average height, 5 foot 11 inches, and that her lower left arm is a robotic replacement, made and formed to look like a regular arm. Under her uniform Terrela have smooth dark olive skin and brown eyes. She is muscular and slim, with a narrow face, small nose and natural sized black eyebrows. Thanks to the medical advancement of the Imperium she looks thirty years younger than her actual age. Terrela’s most striking feature is that she is bald and that her head, face and upper left body are covered in long, pink scars resembling claw marks.
Mental Description/Personality:
Like all commissars, Terrela is iron-willed without a sense of humor. Compared to other commissars though, she is willing to compromise some of her demands on her new journey with Drake and his rag-tag crew. She often hides her emotions from others and never talks about her past, seeing it as weakness within herself. However, Terrela does care about the people around her and wants to help them, even if she shows it in her own, intimidating way. A fearless commander and soldier, she will spit orcs, demons and tyranids in the face while holding her ground against hordes of enemies, a lacking sense of self-preservation gained from her years among Kriegans.
Despite trying to be the perfect officer, her mental stability has been seriously questioned over the years. Terrela can from time to time breakdown in fits of hallucinations, causing her to uncontrollably scream and shake, leaving her incapacitated for long periods of time. Sometimes she also has major problems with sleep deprivation, waking up in the middle of the night screaming and sweating several times in a row.
Background/History:
Not much is known about Terrela’s past before being picked up by the Schola Progenium. All that is known is that she was an orphan living in the slums of an unknown world in Segmentum Solar. Indoctrination followed by strict and harsh training was her life from an early age. Showing signs of an ideal Commissar, she was assigned to a Commissar Training Squad as a Cadet Commissar. For ten years Terrela served in this squad, fighting for her life against staggering odds, where every breathing moment she was judged for her performance in close-to suicide missions. Her big break came when she executed one of her fellow cadets for trying to desert. That earned her a promotion to Junior Commissar and a new assignment.
Moving up to Junior Commissar, she was placed under Commissar Gustav Undin in the 450th Death Korps Grenadier Regiment from Krieg. Terrela’s role changed dramatically as the guardsmen from Krieg never ran from a battle, even when a retreat would be strategically better than defending their position. She fitted in quite well, with more efforts on making sure that the zeal of the regiment was tempered and acting as a tactical adviser.
One day on a death world where the regiment had been dispatched, a savage greenskin was somehow able to get through their defensive lines and cut Commissar Gustav in half with his crude axe. In a blood rage, Terrela picked up a heavy lasgun and shot the orc between the eyes, blowing away the xeno’s head. With his dying breath, Gustav named her a full Commissar, taking his place in the 450th. Terrela led her Death Korps Grenadiers with such a zeal that the orcs were driven back and exterminated.
After this incident, Commissar Terrela served with her Death Korps Regiment for nearly 50 years, becoming a well-known exemplar of an ideal Commissar. She tutored several juniors on the battlefield. Some died; others she deemed worthy were made into full Commissars.
Everything changed when she turned 70. With her regiment placed on a heretic hive world, the job was simple enough: exterminate every heretic and bring the planet back into the Imperium in the name of the God Emperor. However, the planet was suddenly invaded by a tyranid hive fleet that overwhelmed most Imperial Guard Regiments. The 450th held out for months on their defensive position, but as food and ammunition screw scarce, most prayed to the Emperor to save them, even Terrela. One fateful day when their ammunition had finally run out, the regiment was stormed by a massive horde of tyranids. Fighting desperately with everything they had in their underground tunnels, every single guardsman was slaughtered. The salvation came when the Imperial Fists Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes landed on the hive world. The tyranids were thrown off the planet and new Guardsmen could land and re-garrison the devastated world. One squad found Terrela under a giant tyranid, lethally wounded yet still alive. A great part of her body was half-torn apart, but thanks to immediate aid and years of medical treatment, most of her tissue returned, although the scars were left and her lower left arm had been too injured to save.
It was during the rehabilitation that it was found that Terrela was suffering of severe mental trauma and the Commissariat deemed her unfit for duty. She spent another two years in the hospital before a man came to see her, offering her a new assignment on a Rogue Trader starship. Terrela, who wished to do her duty to the Imperium at any cost, gladly accepted and joined Horatio Drake’s crew.
If anyone has any questions, feel more than free to ask.
McScottish