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Fandom Fallout: Legends of the Badlands

LawOfChaos

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NB: Please read everything in the Lore and Notes sections before writing your CS. Thank you ( :) )





Character Sheet


BASICS


-Name:



-Age:



-Gender:



-Nationality:



-Species:



-History:



-Personality:



-Faction Sympathies:



S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength:



-Perception:



-Endurance:



-Charisma:



-Intelligence:



-Agility:



-Luck:



(You have 28 points to put into these different stats. The minimum for each stat is 1.)



APPEARANCE


-Looks:



-Distinguishing Features:



-Clothes:



-Armour:



EQUIPMENT


-Weapons:



-Gear:
 
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---BASICS---


Name


George Brown.


Since leaving "home", goes by the name Dode.



Age


26





Gender

Male




Nationality

British (Scottish)


Speaks with a thick Scottish accent.



Species


Human





History

George was born in the relatively untouched and unpolluted highlands of Scotland (the previously known Cairngorm mountain range) into the ''Cairn Settlement''. On the day the bombs fell, the men and women of the nearby towns and villages fled to the high ground with everything they could carry and established a basic settlement. The Cairngorm range provided ample shelter thanks to the thick woods, wildlife and the easily defensible position. In the past two centuries the settlement has grown throughout the mountains around the large natural lake, districts were established, knowledge was salvaged from the surviving towns and a thriving self sufficient community has flourished. The Cairny's also control the surrounding areas beyond the mountain range entrances, using the low ground as farms and fields.


The Settlement now houses over 2000 people who are required to provide something to the community, whether it be specific skills like farming and building or going on expeditions into the wilds. George was born to his ''Security Officer'' Father and ''Primary Teacher'' Mother, who tragically died during childbirth. The settlement may be vast, but the lack of technology and medical aid is crippling. During his youth he recieved a decent education thanks to the basic school and teachers in the settlement, meanwhile his father taught him everything he knew about his job, and whatever he could teach with his own scavenged books.



The settlements size and power has attracted lots of individuals to it, some honest people desperate to lay down some roots, others however... Had more malicious intentions. When George was 18, a mob of bandits attacked the settlement outposts, setting fires, and killing dozens of Cairny's with looted weapons. This was nothing unusual and the assailants were put down well before they posed a threat to the internal settlement, but this mob was massive. They successfully pushed there way into the mountain range, killing everyone they encountered while burning down an entire district. The Security forces scrambled to stop the mob, eventually putting them down but not before expending hundreds of bullets and taking massive casualties, George's father included. The area was eventually secured, any stragglers were executed and left to rot outside the settlement. The district was eventually rebuilt, but George was left with nothing but the pity of his friends and his fathers belongings. The settlement leaders were quick to seek replacement officers, and offered George his father's job as the replacement security officer, the only job he was trained for.



Time went by and each year there were more attacks and more crisis situations but life went on, few bore the time as hard as George did. 6 years went by before George was done. He couldn't take the handouts and the pity, even his job, his one contributing factor to the settlement was a handout. George decided to leave, the only thing he planned on leaving with the Cairny's was his birth name and hone. Everything else he packed up. His belongings, weapons and whatever else he could fit into his rucksack were all he wanted to take but George knew he had no experience outside the settlement and knew he'd need some supplies... Supplies he'd have to steal from the district storehouse, fortunately, being a security officer had it's advantages. George took one last look at the settlement before turning and walking toward the southern gate ...



George, or Dode as he now called himself, (a nickname given to him from youth) survived the British wastes for nearly 2 years... travelling the country alone, scavenging, stealing and killing if it was necessary, though killing was not something Dode ever wanted to have on his conscience. About 2 months ago, a few miles from Nottingham, George was ambushed by a group of hidden bandits in a field, most of whom were carrying semi-automatic weapons. The bullets tore through his legs and arms, his chest and head protected by his armour and helmet. Dode slumped in agony between the overgrown weeds in the field, his blood seeping into the soil as the bandits laughed at him, mocking their ''kill'' before suddenly being torn apart by a different hail of bullets. Dode writhed in the mud as he heard the footsteps approach. The pain was too much however and Dode passed out, the last thing he remembers of that day was the word "Colonia"





Personality

Death affects everyone in different ways and up until his father's death, George was a relatively shy young man but fiercely loyal to his friends. Losing his father only deepened the shyness and made him cold. His loyalty persisted but he had less time for the 'trivial nonsense' presented by the other Cairny's. He still had time for his friends but eventually they had less time for him and his problems and since then, George has been lonely, seeking anyone who can raise his spirits. With no-one in his life, George tended to be very passive in conversation, more than willing to back down if it will keep himself in other peoples good books.


Leaving Cairny was a completely new challenge but Dode retained his moral compass, choosing to scour the wasteland while preventing as much death as he could, often taking hours out of his journey just to take the long way around rather than kill or seriously injure anyone. Dode also suffers during close range engagements, often unable to resolve a close quarters firefight due to the crippling panic that sets in. Long range however, Dode and his sniper rifle are a formidable combination.





Faction Sympathies

Dode has no ties to any faction, and has only ever had to deal with the more aggressive groups, namely the Highwaymen variants.




Bastard Rating

Out of 10...a 5. It depends how you treat him.




---S.P.E.C.I.A.L---

Strength - 3


Perception - 5


Endurance - 3


Charisma - 3


Intelligence - 6


Agility - 7


Luck - 1




---APPEARANCE---


Looks




mEcGNJg.jpg



Distinguishing Features


Scar across left eye


Deep blue eyes.





Clothes

Tattered and worn but heavily maintained khaki military fatigues.




Armour

A medium weight British army camouflage patterened body armour, with asymmetrical shin, shoulder and arm guards.(Looted from various corpses across the British wasteland)


Lightweight and damaged military helmet covering all parts of Dode's head except the face.



---EQUIPMENT---


Weapons



4NOT-011823.jpg



The rifle is over 200 years old but was heavily maintained and oiled. The quality has suffered heavily since Dode took it into the wasteland. Is in dire need of good maintenance.



latest



The only weapon Dode owns that is still in good condition, sharpened and cleaned frequently by Dode.






Browning_HP_West_German_Police.jpg



A weapon looted from a convoy guards corpse. Used during scavenging missions in tight urban areas.



---Gear---


Currently has 75 rounds of .303 ammunition, some scavenged from military vehicles and even museums. (15 clips of Rifle Ammunition)



Currently has 91 rounds of 9mm ammunition scaveneged from military corpses. (7 clips of Pistol Ammunition)



Bits and pieces of robot salvage, looted from the various wrecked units.



Military grade rucksack



Military grade boots and socks (heavily worn)



Military grade body armour and fatigues (heavily worn)



Hooded waterproof poncho



Large sheet of tarp and rope



Whetstone



Medicines



Long life salted meats



Lighter (almost empty)



---((I've heavily edited this since the original post))---
 
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<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91b43803_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_1576030-bigthumbnail.jpg.c4589d54b111481e3d138d9ebf9d9c96.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="118012" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91b43803_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_1576030-bigthumbnail.jpg.c4589d54b111481e3d138d9ebf9d9c96.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Daphne Barker






—BASICS—




Age: 27



Gender: Female



Nationality: French



Species: Human



History: Growing up as the daughter of a raider, Daphne had it rough. She was just another bastard child her mother had popped out. She was treated as a slave, thrown around and looked down upon.



On her 19th birthday, or close to it, Daphne decided it was time to escape. Men had begun groping her lately, trying to get close and lay their hands on her. They had subsided after one man found a butter knife lodged in his eye, but never stopped. She took what supplies she needed as discreetly as possible, and took off.



On the sixth night in the wasteland, she was beginning to wish she hadn't. The British wasteland was a deathtrap, and she was slowly being caught in its grip. Her tribe's rivals, a small, insignificant gang called the Cerulean Guns, patrolled the area she was camping in, and she had yet to leave their territory. She hadn't seen anyone in a few days, and decided to risk a small fire.



Big mistake.



No more than a half hour after lighting the fire, she found herself pinned down by two Cerulean Guns. After a few minutes of struggling to get free, Daphne finally managed to kick the one holding her in his most sensitive area, and buried the dagger she'd taken in his chest. While she took care of one, however, the second tried slashing her with his own knife. She saw just in time, but couldn't totally avoid it. A slash was cut down her eye, giving her the scar. He stumbled slightly after over aiming, and Daph slit his throat in his moment of weakness.



Terrified and wounded, she snatched up her things and ran. She ran, ran, and ran some more, until her legs were numb from exhaustion. But, at that moment, she saw Haven on the horizon. The rising sun cast its silhouette, shadowed it, but she had nowhere else to go. She knew that if it was a ruined city, which in all likelihood it was, the ghouls would kill her without trouble. But, there was a chance...a chance that humans lived there, and friendly ones at that.



Daphne decided, "Screw it," and headed for Haven's gates. Against all odds, after a week of turmoil and exhaustion, a lifetime of pain and mistreatment, she was safe.



Fast forward 8 years to the present. Daphne is under heavy suspicion of a crime she didn't commit. A man, one of Haven's citizens, was found dead in Daphne's small home. Everyone thinks she did it, but there is no proof. It's only a matter of time before someone makes a move against her, and she plans on being long gone before it happens. She plans to leave the safety once found in Haven, and seek out a new life once more.



Personality: Daph is a good person, for the most part, but knows when to step out of something. She tends to be skittish, but almost always has a sarcastic yet snarky remark on her tongue.



Trust issues are natural for her, growing up the way she did, so it's hard for her to really know if someone is good or not.



She has a general uncaring demeanor, typically seeming indifferent to most things. She isn't an imposing figure, having a thin build with more or less petite features, but knows how to command a situation.



In bad situations, Daphne is almost always the first to run. Combat isn't really her thing, but she's not afraid to kill.



Faction Sympathies:



-Highwaymen



-The Army of the Crown



+The Red Robins



-East End Mods



+The Knights of the Road



•Irish Republican Army



Bastard (Bitch?) Rating: A pretty alright bitch/bastard.






  • -Strength: 3



    -Perception: 5



    -Endurance: 5



    -Charisma: 4



    -Intelligence: 6



    -Agility: 3



    -Luck: 2






—APPEARANCE—



Looks: Daphne is a tad above average height, at 5'9", and weights around 55 kilograms. She is a caucasian, with very slightly tanned skin, and bright blue eyes. A mess of long red hair sits atop her head, usually uncombed and wavy, that reaches all the way down to her waist.



Distinguishing Features: A moderate-sized scar lays across her left eye.



Clothes: Her favorite ensemble is a tank top, skinny jeans, and cowboy boots. It makes her feel western, she says.

This is Daphne's typical style of clothing. Of course, a bit more dusty and dirty due to the..y'know, bombs.



<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91f3474b_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_y(1).jpg.d5578090daefc546793248092895c80c.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="118150" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91f3474b_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_y(1).jpg.d5578090daefc546793248092895c80c.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Armor: Daph's armor is extremely simple, being only leather padding over her regular clothes. They cover her shins and thighs, forearms, shoulders, and chest. It isn't the best, but it can stop blades and provide a bit of resistance against bullets.



—EQUIPMENT—



Weapon(s): Her primary weapons are two long knives, similar to cake knives. For enemies that escape their range, she uses a German Luger that was found in a pawn shop, along with a plentiful stash of ammunition.



<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91f316af_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_Z107_zoom.jpg.2d9133ce89d4fb8de81c0d6363ae2c36.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="118149" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91f316af_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_Z107_zoom.jpg.2d9133ce89d4fb8de81c0d6363ae2c36.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>



<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91f37b5d_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_DWM_4_inch_Navy_Luger_859.jpg.d71b8f0ebd112d4e6ca8d7077140a1ca.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="118151" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91f37b5d_C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_SavedImages_DWM_4_inch_Navy_Luger_859.jpg.d71b8f0ebd112d4e6ca8d7077140a1ca.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

Gear: She carries most of her supplies and ammo in a duffle bag. Otherwise, all her belongings are on her person.



>Two cake knives.



>A Luger, plus a large stash of ammo.



>A few changes of clothes, plus the ones she's wearing.



>One, battered old flashlight.



>A little bit of food.



>Binoculars, with one cracked lens.












 

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warrior-redhead-face-drawing.jpg





BASICS



-Name: Mary O'Connor


-Age: 24


-Gender: Female


-Nationality: (Northern) Irish


-Species:Human


-History: An army brat born into the army of the crown, to two well known and respected army members and so had a reputation to uphold. She joined the military wing the moment she was old enough but found not to be ideal of front-line duty, something that disappointed her parents. She was however quick with medical and science matters but her officers became interested in something else, her natural charm and manner of interacting with people.


Before she knew it she was transferred from the army to their intelligence branch using her as a double agent in the then on going conflict between the crown and the IRA for Northern Ireland. The role she excelled at gaining a respected position in the IRA and passing intelligence effectively. Despite her success though the conflict ended badly for the crown and had to withdraw back to England. Mary was forced to fake her death in ireland and followed the crown back, gaining a new mission to infiltrate the the Red Robins. She is currently on assignments under the Red Robins to scout the Colonia region, assessing the locals and activity of other factions.


-Personality:


Manipulating tailoring her demeanour to the person who she is normally with in order to gain maximum rapport with someone or galvanise him against her. Usually comes of as calm and controlled but joking and caring to those she is close with an cheeky understated jovial side. The true personality is unknown but seems her true loyalty is to The crown but recent time with the red robins have changed that.


-Bitch rating: She is a spy by trade, what do you think?


-Faction Sympathies:

-Highwaymen


+The Army of the Crown


+The Red Robins


~East End Mods


~The Knights of the Road


-Irish Republican Army




S.P.E.C.I.A.L



-Strength: 3


-Perception: 4


-Endurance: 2


-Charisma: 7


-Intelligence:6


-Agility: 4


-Luck: 2





APPEARANCE



-Looks: Caucasian with pale almost white skin, standing at around 5ft 7 and weighing around 60kg. Thin but athletic build with the Celtic tattoos pictured. Red hair like picture but tied back with a pony tail barely neat as she hasn't combed in a good long while.


-Distinguishing Features:A few burns marks and scars throughout her body, the Celtic style tattoos through out.


-Clothes:Olive skin khaki pants, black boots, tank top, a mismatched woolly jumper or cardigan when cold.


-Armour: Mix of old cricket gear and leather chest pieces.





EQUIPMENT



-Weapons:

- Home-made

http://romanceuniversity.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/British-Production-STEN-MkII.jpg sten gun

http://romanceuniversity.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/British-Production-STEN-MkII.jpggained from the crown army, modified with silencer


- torch light as makeshift weapon



-Gear: Basic food supplies, some medical equipment, a change of clothes, radio (hidden), torch.





 
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Everybody so far is accepted, and we'll start once I post my CS, which should hopefully be some time tomorrow.
 

-Name: Alan Merck

Bastard Rating: Smug Bastard

-Age: 249, ghoulified at 27

-Gender: Male

-Nationality: British

"God Save the Queen"

-Species: Ghoul

"Braaaaains. Nah, I'm just kiddin'"

-History:

"It all started with a duck, two bottles of Nuka Cola, and a pound of cashmere."

Alan was born in Birmingham and quickly established himself as a great mind of science. After graduating from C.I.T. at age 23, Alan was hired at The London Wartime Science Bureau and spent a larger portion of his time developing nuclear weaponry for the crown. Alan's work resulted in a few experimential zeta-wave prototypes and unique explosives. Alan had barricade himself and a few other workers in the lab once the riots started. They finally stopped October 27, 2077. Radiation leaked into the building through the air ducts turning most of his co-workers into Ferals. Alan and two others just ended up as monsters with big brains. They each grabbed a few possessions from the lab and left to the hellscape the war had left behind. It wasn't much longer than a year before they each decided to part ways. Things were pretty quiet for the for the first decade or so. He traveled, visited Wales, Ireland, Scotland, France. Aside from the occasional ghoul mugger or giant chicken, he didn't have much to worry about. Alan has been staying in his family home for the last hundred years, building, exploring, reading, and writing.

-Personality:

Alan is a scholar at heart. He tries to avoid conflict whenever possible, only getting involved to preserve knowledge or life (when viable). He's developed a bit of an attitude since the bombs fell, but he kept his brain. Alan possesses profound knowledge of ordinance, chemistry, radioactivity, and magnetism.

Overall, Alan is a knowledge-driven individual who attempts to make up for his ghoulish appearance with humor. He also yearns for a place where he doesn't need to worry about dying every hour and he can get a warm cup of tea.

"Must be my winnin' smile."




-Faction Sympathies:


+Red Robins

-Army of The Crown

"...D*cks"

--Highwaymen

-East End Mods

++Knights of the Road

-Irish Republican Army

S.P.E.C.I.A.L

-Strength: 1

-Perception: 4

-Endurance: 2

-Charisma: 5

-Intelligence: 9

-Agility: 3

-Luck: 3

APPEARANCE

-Looks:

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91e7378c_download(2).jpg.2e6430151078ccb637561e5f684f7592.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="118123" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c91e7378c_download(2).jpg.2e6430151078ccb637561e5f684f7592.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

-Distinguishing Features:

"Other than the obvious? Ha."




-Clothes:

Pictured above, turtleneck sweater and overcoat in addition to white slacks.

-Armour:

Wears shin-guards and a bullet-resistant vest under his normal-wear.

EQUIPMENT

-Weapons:

A homemade Gamma gun used for both medicinal and combat purposes, a few homemade plasma grenades, and an engraved LWSB pocket knife

-Gear:

His journal, which he plans to publish

A flip lighter

A telescope​


 

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Character Sheet


BASICS


-Name: Alex Connors


-Age:25


-Gender: Male


-Nationality: British


-Species: Human


-History: Born In Haven, Alex was a thief from age 9. Always trying to steal food for his mother and sister or stealing trinkets from passing traders. When he turned 14 his mother decided to find another settlement. An hour away from Haven, his mother was assaulted and shot, and his sister was taken. That was the last time he saw them. From then on he lived in Haven going out on scavenging trips whenever possible until the age of 23 when his best friend was killed by raiders. He tracked them down and shot 2 of them but another stabbed him between his shoulder blades. He ultimately escaped but he forever has a scar the blade left on his back.


-Personality: Generally nice and always looking to help those around him. However he chooses to stay quiet when in company of many people.


-Faction Sympathies: Red Robins, Neutral to all except the Highwaymen (He hates them) ( Bastard Rating?)


S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength: 3


-Perception: 4


-Endurance: 3


-Charisma: 5


-Intelligence: 4


-Agility: 7


-Luck: 2


APPEARANCE


-Looks: Caucasian with light skin, Dark Brown Hair (generally messy), Blue Eyes, 6", 75 kg, Average Build


-Distinguishing Features: Scar on back from raider, scar across right eye


-Clothes: Backpack, Hoodie, T-Shirt, Jeans, Cloth used to cover face


-Armour: Light Leather Armour Top


EQUIPMENT


-Weapons: 9mm Pistol with an Extended Mag, Machete, Homemade Rifle with Silencer


-Gear: Backpack, Rope, Gem Given to By Sister, Bandage
 
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  • -Name: Nicola (Nic) Armstead


    -Age: 20


    -Gender: Female


    -Nationality: British


    -Species: human


 
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BASICS


-Name:
Jay Winters

-Age: 21

-Gender: Male

-Nationality: English

-Species: Human

-History: Jay was born in Colonia, but was raised by his father, as his mother died when he was young. His father was a strict but kind man, having served in the Crown Army before deciding he'd had enough of fighting. He taught Jay to stand up for himself, but to avoid using violence, so Jay became a quick-thinker and learnt how to use words to deescalate situations.

Jay had been thinking about leaving Colonia since he was 19, as he began to seek out independence, and he cemented his decision when his father disappeared from the settlement without explanation. He decided to search the badlands for any sign of him, and, should he never find him, start a new life elsewhere.

-Personality: Jay fancies himself as a smooth-talker and is quite a convincing actor, able to come up with blatant lies on the spot and find a way to make them seem like nothing but the truth. He has 'the gift of the gab', which he uses frequently to de-escalate situations and avoid violence; partly because he likes to think he's a peacemaker and a good samaritan, but mostly because he can hardly hold his own in a fight and he tends to become a bit of a coward when things get physical.

In normal situations, Jay is energetic, enthusiastic and determined to set out a good image of himself, and he often dives head-first into tasks. He is normally the first to get stuck in and the last to stop working; if he starts something, he always sees it through to completion. While comfort zone is away far from violent situations when he does have to fight, he often finds luck to be on his side, in spite of his lack of fighting skills.

-Faction Sympathies: Jay's father was an ex-member of the Army of the Crown, who left because he felt disillusioned with the cause. Thus, he dislikes the Crown Army, as well as highwaymen, and the Knights of the Road, as he has always been told that they are simply dangerous raiders. He hardly knows a thing about many of the other factions, having never really left Colonia.

-Bastard Rating: A bit of bastard.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength:
1

-Perception: 4

-Endurance: 3

-Charisma: 7

-Intelligence: 5

-Agility: 2

-Luck: 6

APPEARANCE


-Looks:
7fac6138a2882f1bab18355a3bc0ca96.jpg


Jay has mid-length, muddy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. His nose is rather big, and on the whole he looks considerably more mature than he actually is, which isn't helped by his 1.95 metres of height. On the whole, he's also fairly fit, and while he's a slow runner he has a lot of stamina.

-Distinguishing Features: His height.

-Clothes: Jay almost always wears a comfortable, black long-sleeved shirt and khaki combat trousers with a thick belt. Sewn to the belt is multple pouches in which to hold anything he can't fit in his pockets. When it's cold, or he needs some extra protection, he wears a leather bomber jacket and aviator cap with goggles. While travelling, he dons thick, waterproof socks and worn, military-issue boots he brought from one of Colonia's shops.

-Armour: He wears a leather shoulder bracer with a small holster for his walkie-talkie, salvaged football shin-pads, which he wears on his wrists as bracers, and boiled leather armour strapped to his legs just above his boots.

EQUIPMENT


-Weapons:
A short, aluminium softball bat. He doesn't trust himself with a weapon as dangerous as a gun.

-Gear: His father's Pip-Boy, a lighter, a canteen of water, a walkie-talkie, some stimpaks and a small rucksack to hold them in.
 



  • Name: Annalise Fredricks


    United we stand


    Age: 20


    Gender: Female


    Nationality: British


    Species: Human


    Faction Sympathies: Anna doesn't really care one way or another. As long as they're decent enough people and not overly violent she'll tolerate pretty much everyone


    Bastard Rating: If a negative number was possible, it'd be -1. Sadly it isn't, so it'll be a 0 instead.


    History:


    Anna was born in Colonia and pretty much lived there her entire life. Her family was well off for the most part seeing as her dad was a decently high ranking member in The Crown Army and her mother worked as a engineer of sorts building things Colonia needed and making repairs. Turned out that Annalise too had an affinity for making things and keeping them going, infact she started helping her mother when she was thirteen. It was a way to both help out her family and further her skills, so why not? It went like this until she was 17, at that point her mother retired and she took her place.


    Not only was she as good as her mother she was better by far, which made her parents proud of her. Of course..eventually it got boring. Living in the same place, doing the same thing, seeing the same people. And so recently she's decided to leave Colonia in an effort to explore the rest of the UK and see what else there is to everything. She might not leave for long, but she'd at-least try.


    Personality:


    Anna is a bit hard to describe. Generally speaking she's an extremely shy individual when it comes to social interaction. She stutters, grows silent, the whole nine yards. If she gets particulary nervous she'll just outright walk away altogether. That said she is typically nice once you gain her trust, kind and caring, the kind of person that makes you feel better when everythings' going to hell. She is an extremely intelligent individual, having modified and built both of her weapons as well as her suit. She can build anything from anything given parts and time, and she enjoys doing so.


    She dislikes senseless violence, and thus won't fight unless nessacary for defense or survival of herself or others. She'll typically shy away from said senseless violence, going so far as to walk away altogether if it was a mutual random fight.


    She also really enjoys reading, carrying around several different books with her at any given time.


    Likes:

    • Reading
    • Building things
    • Being useful


    Dislikes:

    • Senseless/Random violence
    • Death
    • Being made fun of


 
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BASICS


-Name: Ferrin 'Rin' Klymor'n


-Age: 24


-Gender: Female


-Nationality: Scottish


-Species: Human


-History: Ferrin is member of the Dragoons, a decently put together raider group on the Shetland Isles that act as knights and warriors of old albeit with far less peaceful intentions. Ferrin was trained to be one of the handful of women Dragoons allowed to be trained. Their job was more meant for stealth missions, getting in and out, assassinations and sabotage, though they often trained under the Genra, or better known as the personal guard of the leader, the Fel Marsh.


Like many other 'members' of the Dragoons, Ferrin was forced into her role, though unlike a quick death that a man would face for failing in her duties, Ferrin was faced with what became of the rest of the women, a means of 'comfort' a new recruits. Due to this she strove to be the best, as her grouping of fighters were not only generally kept separate from the rest of the Dragoons, but were given a medallion as means of marking them as important to the Dragoons, though it would be something only members of the Dragoons would recognise.


On a routine mission Ferrin found herself abducted. She was drugged, and when she came to it was in a bunker just outside Inverness. Unknown of how much time had passed, nor of her surroundings, Ferrin eventually made her way out after having discovered that the entirety of the bunker's crew were missing and there was blood everywhere.


After making shore much of Ferrin's life revolved around simply wandering about and doing her best to survive now that she'd been separated from her more northern based peoples and was essentially lost. After a time, and a near fatal, though not for her, run in with a trader, Ferrin has made her way to Colonia for the first time.


-Personality: Ferrin is fierce and proud, with a drive and determination that even her Genra trainers admit they see rarely in men, who they feel are automatically superior to women. Ferrin often sets out to prove them wrong.


Having started life as a happy and adventurous child Ferrin had taken personal offence when the Dragoons encroached on her home on what used to be the Orkney Islands and her happy-go-lucky life, and when her family was killed she became bitter and angry, almost immediately deciding that she would take something back from the Dragoons in vengeance. This led her to kill at an extremely young age, and after her capture and introduction to the life that she would lead should she refuse her prey's offer of fealty, Ferrin, for a time, became a very angry, but very much trapped, youth.


Having learned to use her anger and indignance as a spur to her skills and determination, Ferrin became a very coarse and violent individual, and her training had honed her mind to constantly assume the worst of most any situation while dealing with it calmly and carefully. As far as her intelligence goes, the Genra and Dragoons as a whole were quick to realise that while Ferrin had the mind to understand many of the more complicated processes of the world, she often didn't carry the aptitude for it, deciding to physically break her problems rather than solve them logically.


Proud of her skill and prouder still of her place amongst a world of men, Ferrin often comes across as confident and daring to those who don't know her, and calculated and precise to those that do.


Much of her Dragoon furore, however, has died down in this new land she's found herself , and Ferrin often neglects to bring up her past due to how raisers are viewed in general.


She has also come to believe that skill over comes luck any day.


-Faction Sympathies:

  • Highwaymen- "Easy pickings, and scatter easily when pressured. Good caps and easy way to get food, if you can call what they carry food."
  • Army of the Crown- "Squared go with these blighters once or twice. Just like the most others, they think a rifle and a boy outweighs skill and a good spear in the hands of a true warrior."
  • The Red Robins- "Give too easily. How're you ever going to survive if you just give away all your things?"
  • East End Mods- "Freaks think they're hot shit. Didn't seem so tough after I showed them radiation isn't the only thing that'll take your skin off."
  • The Knight of the Road- "They seem nice... I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with how nice."
  • I.R.A- "What's an Ireland..."


Bastard Rating: Braw'n'bold bloody wee bastard.


S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength: 5


-Perception: 5


-Endurance: 5


-Charisma: 1


-Intelligence: 1


-Agility: 10


-Luck: 1


APPEARANCE

d0de40fba3cb50a6eef85f7265886f742538da22af0b3ae400fd821afadb611d_1.jpg
-Looks:Settled at a deceptive four foot eight in height, Ferrin is toned and quite sturdy from her training with the Genra. Scars cover her body, from blades to bullets to claws to whips, if there is a reason for having them, they will be there.


Ferrin's soft face is graced with blue eyes, platinum hair and a slim frame that all belie her strength and ferocity in combat.


-Distinguishing Features: Short and with many blade and bullet based scars. Furthermore, Ferrin's skin is noticeably off hue. This is due to a Dragoon custom and 'bluing' herself, in other words she uses certain plants and a mixture of water to make a dye that she rubs into her skin each week. When not blued Ferrin is a very pale and fair skinned individual.


-Clothes: Ferrin wears a cropped vest top with cargo pants cut off and tied mid shin with leather moccasins, all in black. She also has a black, fingerless, elbow length glove on her right hand. She often covers herself with a elk-fur lined cloak on the colder days.


-Armour: Black leather shin and thigh guards, and well as a leather harness and left arm guard. She has a right forearm bracer of leather, but unlike her left no upper arm protection. All of them are lined with elk fur.


—EQUIPMENT


-Weapons:

  • Spear-
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  • Combat Knife, 5.6 inch blade, 9.8 inches total-
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  • Throwing Knives, four inch blades, Ferrin has twelve tucked away at all times-
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-Gear: Basic medical supplies, food prep supplies and clothing repair tools.


—Dragoons of the Shetlands


-Hierarchy:

  1. Fel Marsh- The leader of their group. The Fel Marsh takes his place via combat, as with all roles. However, the Fel Marsh must beat the previous in a battle of wits, strategy and then combat to fully prove themselves.
  2. Genra- The personal guard of the Genra, they will fight to the death for their leader and for their right to their position. They are renowned amongst the Dragoons for fighting without firearms. There are twenty four of them.
  3. Bri'dier- The leaders of each company, there are seven, one for each hundred man company.
  4. C'Tain- The C'Tain are the seven leaders of each twenty five men platoons in each company.
  5. Serant- The Serant lead one of five teams from each platoon. There are five to a platoon.
  6. Privt- Privts are mere grunts.
  7. Slaves- Anyone else not associated with fighting.
  8. Lac Corl- A small secretive sub-group of trained women.


-History: The Dragoons are a raider group that modelled themselves off the old world British Military as best as they could, but mixed what knowledge they had with the old world mediaeval times. As such they often favour melee combat and focus on conquest, despite being structured like the more modernised military.


They often send out paddle based craft to collect slave labour and supplies in raids, as well as attempt to boost their size, land and ranks.


-Goal: Domination.


-Base of Operations: The Fel Marsh has taken residence in a fortified Scalloway Castle. They have put much work into trying to make many ships work, and as a whole have made the areas of Scalloway, Hamnavoe, Cutts, Uradale and Gulberwick their home, often using the old A970 and B9074 routes to resupply and expand.
 
BASICS


-Name: Celia Corva


-Age: 23


-Gender: Female


-Nationality: American


-Species: Human


-History: Celia is a descendant of an american family that arrived in the UK before the war. She was raised as a child with a love of mechanical building. Her family were enthusiasts for rebuilding the government. She grew up in Red Robin before leaving it when she was 18. She left with her robotic friend Renold, whom she had built just the year before. They left her family and the Red Robins. She settled into a settlement where she believes herself as a Sheriff and is the local Mechanic. She was able to get a vehicle to partially work but she is still working on it. It is still failing


-Personality: Loves Robotics and mechanics, Friendly to those who don't make a ruckus in her settlement, Loves Renold a lot.


-Faction Sympathies: Celia is an Ex-Red Robin (Redie as she calls them.) She does not care about the factions as long as they do not create trouble in her settlement. She is the leader of the Black Bar.


S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength:5


-Perception: 3


-Endurance: 3


-Charisma: 4


-Intelligence: 6


-Agility: 3


-Luck: 4


APPEARANCE


-Looks:


fallout_by_grantbtw-d9g5orl.jpg



-Distinguishing Features: She has a black bar tattoo under her right eye


-Clothes: Mainly wears her Blue Ripped sleeve jacket and her fingerless gloves. And she wears bandages from her wrist to the middle of her fore arm.


-Armour: She does not usually wear armor. But she has some old custom Power armor she found and fixed/customized herself that is collecting dust in her garage.


EQUIPMENT


-Weapons:

  • Customized rifle- has a dual shot function where she is able to fire twice in a row without cocking it
  • A bowie knife- a customized hilt Bowie Knife. The hilt is blue and white camo


-Gear:

  • Her Robo carrier Renold (Holds her items for her)
  • Her trusty Scanner Pip Boy. She customized the attachment herself. It allows her to scan for usable parts in different machines.
  • Her lucky Wrench. "It may be rusted but it is sure lucky"
  • Her Bear claw necklace.
 
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Sorry, but it'll need a few changes. Without being a ghoul, there's no way she'd have been alive before the war, as the RP is set 200+ years after it. Secondly, without proper explanation of how she got to the UK, she can't be American. I would suggest that she be descended from Americans that were in the UK before the war, as nobody from America has entered the UK since the war. Other than that, it looks good!
 
LawOfChaos said:
Sorry, but it'll need a few changes. Without being a ghoul, there's no way she'd have been alive before the war, as the RP is set 200+ years after it. Secondly, without proper explanation of how she got to the UK, she can't be American. I would suggest that she be descended from Americans that were in the UK before the war, as nobody from America has entered the UK since the war. Other than that, it looks good!
okay. I forgot about the 200+ years.


I will change her history then
 

BASICS

-Name: Nicollas Mendes.

-Age: 18

-Gender: Male

-Nationality: British

-Species: Human

-History:

"I was already born in this mess, sadly my parents were killed when I was seven and I've been surviving alone since then. I now live from whatever I can scavenge/steal/loot."

-Personality:

Nicollas is a very calm person, even considering the shit this place has turned into and his past, he does not avoid killing and can have some adrenaline bursts every now and then.

-Faction Sympathies: "I've invaded most of them so I dont think they like me alot, besides, they wouldn't allow me in their faction."

-Bastard Rating: Not much of a bastard.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L

-Strength: 3

-Perception: 5

-Endurance: 4

-Charisma: 4

-Intelligence: 4

-Agility: 6

-Luck: 2

APPEARANCE

-Looks:

<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c94884323_FennikKussenMagic.jpg.2968c852b67520fe4e20d4b4f5228fc7.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="119704" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/57a8c94884323_FennikKussenMagic.jpg.2968c852b67520fe4e20d4b4f5228fc7.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

-Distinguishing Features: Really Black hair, pale skin.

-Clothes: Black hoodie, grey pants, sneakers.

-Armour: None

EQUIPMENT

-Weapons:

A .50 Revolvers (He calls it "Ace Of Spades".)

A knife (CSGO's Huntsman Knife looking)

-Gear:

-Lighter

-Engineer Googles on his forehead.



 

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—BASICS


-Name: Arthur Wellesly


-Aliases: The Duke or The Subjagator


-Age: 34


-Gender: Male


-Nationality: "Englishman through and through."


-Species: Human


-History: Arthur Wellesly was born in Elephant and Castle, one of Londons few "safe zones". The safe zones were essentially small pockets of habitation which were cleared of radioactive debris and ghouls. When he was four years old, the Army of the Crown peacefully took over, and educated the youth of the slum by investing in educating the youth. Although he didn't realize it, he was being propagandized and programmed to live and die for the Crown. At age 16, he signed with their training program, and was taken to the groups regional headquarters, Pall Mall. Once there, Arthur was trained in the methodology of light infantry combat doctrine, and at age 19 was attatched to the 5th Assault Division, 4th Recon Battalion.


The 5th division was deployed to Portsmouth, where a Red Robin insurrection had captured the port and severed Crown trade with continnental iron miners. After nine months of bloody fighting, the Red Robins were forced from Portsmouth, with Arthur being afforded the rank of seargeant for his bravery and diligence in battle. Due to his devotion, the commanding officer, General Carlyle Brandt, of the 5th Division made Arthur a junior officer in his General Staff.


The 5th Division occupied Portsmouth for several months until it was recalled to London. Once it was returned to the city, Arthur undertook study in the Crowns Officer Academy [Formerly the British Military Museum], graduating two years later with qualifications to become a major. Having become a major, he followed the 5th Assault Division in what would become their most infamous venture, what would become known as the Suffolk Slaughter. The 5th Assault Division, like with all conquest operations moved through the county, securing each village, one by one. The only problem with such a strategy, was that it left the Crown forces relatively unprotected until they were reinforced.


The Crown immediately felt the sting of the Suffolk Sparrows, an offshoot of both Highwaymen and the Red Robins. Guerrilla warfare and harassment by their troops lead to a rapid deterioration of relations between the locals and their occupiers. Arthur however had read history on previous rebellions, and guerilla activities, particularly in regards to the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857. So, in order to intimidate the locals and the remainders of the Sparrows, Arthur devised a devious and brutal demoralisation tactic.


The artillery brigade of the 5th Division would roll into every town every week, escorted by two platoons of soldiers. From there, the soldiers would round up the towns folk into the central meeting place. Once there, a raffle was held, and the losers of it were strapped to the barrels of 40mm artillery batteries, before having the batteries fire into their bodies. The town leaders were then forced to lick up the blood and innards of those who'd been destroyed, while Arthur read a proclamation.


"The Suffolk Sparrows have betrayed you! Should you not surrender these vagrants, these traitors to Britannia, and our crown, you will all face the same fate. First the children, then your elderly, and then your wives. Lay down your arms and the slaughter will stop. Long live the King!"


It took two months and three hundred and forty nine deaths, but Suffolk was subjugated and the Sparrows surrendered, only to be hung drawn and quartered. For this bit of genius, Arthur was promoted to Colonel of the Crown, and given the typical officers reward of a pip boy and a commanders commission. New and untested, Arthur has been handed sveral battalions of troops to occupy Colonia and its neighbouring hamlets in order to further the Crowns territory and allow for a taxation of the trade routes there.


-Personality:


Cold and ruthless, Arthur is a calculating bastard who will stop at no end to destroy the enemies of the Crown and further his own career. He's loyal to his men, but at the same time will be willing to sacrifice them should a tactical retreat or a victory need to be performed. Despite his cold exterior, he has gained a reputation as a whoremonger, often purchasing the services of working girls in order to relieve the stresses of war.


-Faction Sympathies:


Army of the Crown: An Active member, loves these guys.


Knights of the Road: The knights of the road aren't officially an enemy of the army, but are nonethess looked down upon. Despite this, Arthur has employed their services as scouts, couriers and even soldiers. They've earned his respect.


Highwaymen: A group to be exterminated with extreme prejudice.


Red Robins: A Group to be exterminated with extreme


-Bastard Rating: A right old c*nt.


—S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength:2


-Perception:3


-Endurance:5


-Charisma:6


-Intelligence:7


-Agility:4


-Luck:1


—APPEARANCE


-Distinguishing Features: He never seems to relax, and always stands tall, and to attention.


-Armour: Crown 33rd Guards Brigade Uniform.


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/d01b830699c410dea81dc0873c57525f.jpg.2e647f33eeb50cb36fcabf128bdc0d46.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="121051" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_04/d01b830699c410dea81dc0873c57525f.jpg.2e647f33eeb50cb36fcabf128bdc0d46.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


—EQUIPMENT


-Weapons: Crown Army 5.56 Assault Rifle


-Gear: Pip Boy 1000



 

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-Name: Francesco Broccoli


-Age: 27



-Gender: Male



-Nationality: England (With Italian root - His great great grandfather was from Italy)



-Species: Human



-History: The Broccoli family is from Nottingham. Back then it's a big family, and was one of the few made it out when the bomb hit. The Broccoli owns a barbershop, generation to generation before the Great War, and somehow it magically stood still after the bomb fell.



2299, the sky was dark grey, wonder around the street are raiders, gang-bangers, green giant mutants,... Indeed this's the worst time for everyone, the Broccoli was no different. There were only Frankie and his young brother Stefan, their parents had died by the hand of raiders. The young brothers, they were weak, there were no more food, they were left for hunger, like the barber's pole light outside of their door, dying out. But there was it, a man walked in his shop, a customer... the man wanted a hair cut. Frankie was to give the man his service... He brought the tip of his barber scissor from one end of his customer neck... to the other end, killed the man instantly. That night, the Broccoli brothers feasted on the meat of that man, they ate his corpse until their days to days hunger satisfied, then saved the rest in their basement.






After that night, Frankie the Barber, finally find his way in this wasteland, what to do for a guy like him, to survive and provide. The next week, he sliced the throat of 2 men more, once was just a trader, once was a raider. Ever since, The Broccoli barbershop has hold a dark bloody secret, a fine barbershop by the most talent barber in the Nottingham - Frank Broccoli, the same man that cook human flesh for him and his kid brother at night for dinner.


-Personality: Charming, cheerful on the outside, smile a lot too. His smile is his key of success as he usually says. This is the attitude he shows to his younger brother as well as all his customers and "business associates". He can keep his charm and his cool in most situation, hardly shaken or removed by threats or raw violence.



When provoked (by probably threat his family or reveal his secret about cannibalism), Frankie can become brutal and cold, his ruthlessness become far greater than normal.






Bastard Rate: Tricked his customers into dinner for his cannibalism, so... a solid 8


-Faction Sympathies: Neutral to all of the Factions



S.P.E.C.I.A.L


-Strength: 4



-Perception:1



-Endurance: 1



-Charisma: 7



-Intelligence: 7



-Agility: 7



-Luck: 1



(You have 28 points to put into these different stats. The minimum for each stat is 1.)



APPEARANCE


-Looks: Thin, 5 ft 9, 64kg.



-Distinguishing Features: Charming smile.



-Clothes: Suit (As picture)



-Armour: He doesn't wear armor since he doesn't approach combat with head-on



EQUIPMENT


-Weapons:


latest








latest










latest



Kitchen Knife



Machete









latest






-Gear: Not much but his Scissor.
 
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