Post by Thomas on Feb 16, 2017 11:43:27 GMT -6
Thomas, Soldier of Fortune
Name: Thomas
Class/Race: Sniper
Age: 36
Birthplace: Last-One-Standing, Santaruz, Lycia
Appearance: medium-length blond hair, brown eyes, clean-shaven save for a small moustache. Has a scar on his forehead from a throwing axe that was embedded in his skull. Under his clothing is a mess of scars, many of which are from wounds that should have killed him. Wears his LOS guardman's uniform, which consists of a dark blue sack coat, grey trousers, black boots, and a grey cloth Kepi hat.
Personality: Calm, amiable, well-spoken (even when swearin' up a blue streak), and invariably polite, but is reckless to a fault due to his addiction to high stakes. Even when he's fit to be tied, he's cool and collected. He's by no means a cold person, however, and is comfortable making friends with almost anyone.
Backstory: Last-One-Standing is a farming town, very common in Santaruz. Why is it named that? Well, it's the last of its sister cities that are still standing. Unfortunately, the town is far enough from most legal authority that it's a prime target for bandits. That's where Thomas and the other guardsmen come in.
The guardsmen aren't so much a paramilitary organization so much as an unofficial police force made up of about 7 ex-military. Although they probably aren't doing it legally, the townspeople aren't exactly objecting. Thomas is a 5th generation guardsman. His family's been in Last-One-Standing's law enforcement ever since his great-great grandfather helped found the settlement. Thus, Thomas's childhood was full of training and drills.
He didn't originally want to be a guardsman, however. He wanted to go into farming like the rest of his friends were doing. This disappointed his father and grandfather greatly, but he didn't especially care. That all changed after a particularly gruesome attack by a bandit clan. Had it not been for his natural talent with the crossbow, his friends would have died. Or maybe he just got lucky again. He was pretty well-known for his incredible luck. Unfortunately, this gave him an addiction to gambling as a young adult, partially because he won a lot and partially because he loved the feeling of taking a risk a little too much. But I digress. After the bandit raid, Thomas lied about his age and joined the military at 16, where he served as an archer for two years before being discharged for the unproved murder of one of his comrades-in-arms. Of course, with the recent turmoil in his home country, he may need to jump back into duty really soon...
When he returned to the town, nothing much had changed, save for his grandfather having kicked the bucket. He joined the guardsmen immediately, and he's been enforcing justice around the town for 18 years now, having survived many major battles, intwo all out sieges by some of the biggest raider camps in the wilds, too many raiding parties to count, and was directly responsible for the capture of a serial arsonist .
NPC Battle: The day so far'd been a bit dull. I was sittin' around doin' nothin' for hours. In hindsight, I suppose that's a good thing, because that'd mean things are peaceful 'round here. That is, 'til I heard the screaming and the alarm bells ringing. Yup, the Gulch Runners were back. I doubt they were too happy when they came back to see their camp ransacked, but serves them right for killin' old Bill.
The others were busy with the main force, so naturally, I took the ones tryna flank us. I didn't see any of 'em right away, which was pretty unusual. Thankfully, I did see one eventually, a thief. Young lady, 'round 20 years. Too bad she saw me first. I ended up with a throwin' knife in my back. I wasn't 'bout to be stopped that easy, though, I readied my crossbow and took aim. We both kept our distance, but I was definitely the easier target. She was quick as a hiccup. Tricky li'l thing, that one. I squeezed the trigger, and hit her in the shoulder. Wasn't my best shot, but it was good enough. As I reloaded, she screamed in pain and threw another knife, which got me in my shoulder. We had matching wounds! Unfortunately, she made a big mistake. The sudden pain made me tense up, and I accidentally pulled the trigger before I was ready to aim. Didn't matter, though, my weapon was pointed in a convenient direction. She collapsed onto her knees and her eyes rolled back into her head, a crossbow bolt sticking out between them. Thanks again, Lady Luck.
PC Battle:
So me and the others were headin' out to clear another bandit clan. Guess we must've been too late, since there was another party layin' waste to 'em, scorched earth n' all that. I decide to help out by pickin' off a bandit some fella was 'bout to kill. Boy, that was a mistake. Fella kept yellin' at me, somethin' 'bout honor and such. I didn't understand what the was sayin', on account of his speech bein' almost unintelligible, but he looked madder than a wet hen. Without warnin', he charged at me with an axe. I started backpedalin', and fortunately, I was faster. Carefully keepin' my distance, I peppered him with crossbow bolts 'til he cried uncle.
Crit/Skill quotes:
"Last one standin' wins!"
"Gonna tear you a new bee-hind!"
"Yeehaw!"
"Bless your heart!"
Name: Thomas
Class/Race: Sniper
Age: 36
Birthplace: Last-One-Standing, Santaruz, Lycia
Appearance: medium-length blond hair, brown eyes, clean-shaven save for a small moustache. Has a scar on his forehead from a throwing axe that was embedded in his skull. Under his clothing is a mess of scars, many of which are from wounds that should have killed him. Wears his LOS guardman's uniform, which consists of a dark blue sack coat, grey trousers, black boots, and a grey cloth Kepi hat.
Personality: Calm, amiable, well-spoken (even when swearin' up a blue streak), and invariably polite, but is reckless to a fault due to his addiction to high stakes. Even when he's fit to be tied, he's cool and collected. He's by no means a cold person, however, and is comfortable making friends with almost anyone.
Backstory: Last-One-Standing is a farming town, very common in Santaruz. Why is it named that? Well, it's the last of its sister cities that are still standing. Unfortunately, the town is far enough from most legal authority that it's a prime target for bandits. That's where Thomas and the other guardsmen come in.
The guardsmen aren't so much a paramilitary organization so much as an unofficial police force made up of about 7 ex-military. Although they probably aren't doing it legally, the townspeople aren't exactly objecting. Thomas is a 5th generation guardsman. His family's been in Last-One-Standing's law enforcement ever since his great-great grandfather helped found the settlement. Thus, Thomas's childhood was full of training and drills.
He didn't originally want to be a guardsman, however. He wanted to go into farming like the rest of his friends were doing. This disappointed his father and grandfather greatly, but he didn't especially care. That all changed after a particularly gruesome attack by a bandit clan. Had it not been for his natural talent with the crossbow, his friends would have died. Or maybe he just got lucky again. He was pretty well-known for his incredible luck. Unfortunately, this gave him an addiction to gambling as a young adult, partially because he won a lot and partially because he loved the feeling of taking a risk a little too much. But I digress. After the bandit raid, Thomas lied about his age and joined the military at 16, where he served as an archer for two years before being discharged for the unproved murder of one of his comrades-in-arms. Of course, with the recent turmoil in his home country, he may need to jump back into duty really soon...
When he returned to the town, nothing much had changed, save for his grandfather having kicked the bucket. He joined the guardsmen immediately, and he's been enforcing justice around the town for 18 years now, having survived many major battles, intwo all out sieges by some of the biggest raider camps in the wilds, too many raiding parties to count, and was directly responsible for the capture of a serial arsonist .
NPC Battle: The day so far'd been a bit dull. I was sittin' around doin' nothin' for hours. In hindsight, I suppose that's a good thing, because that'd mean things are peaceful 'round here. That is, 'til I heard the screaming and the alarm bells ringing. Yup, the Gulch Runners were back. I doubt they were too happy when they came back to see their camp ransacked, but serves them right for killin' old Bill.
The others were busy with the main force, so naturally, I took the ones tryna flank us. I didn't see any of 'em right away, which was pretty unusual. Thankfully, I did see one eventually, a thief. Young lady, 'round 20 years. Too bad she saw me first. I ended up with a throwin' knife in my back. I wasn't 'bout to be stopped that easy, though, I readied my crossbow and took aim. We both kept our distance, but I was definitely the easier target. She was quick as a hiccup. Tricky li'l thing, that one. I squeezed the trigger, and hit her in the shoulder. Wasn't my best shot, but it was good enough. As I reloaded, she screamed in pain and threw another knife, which got me in my shoulder. We had matching wounds! Unfortunately, she made a big mistake. The sudden pain made me tense up, and I accidentally pulled the trigger before I was ready to aim. Didn't matter, though, my weapon was pointed in a convenient direction. She collapsed onto her knees and her eyes rolled back into her head, a crossbow bolt sticking out between them. Thanks again, Lady Luck.
PC Battle:
So me and the others were headin' out to clear another bandit clan. Guess we must've been too late, since there was another party layin' waste to 'em, scorched earth n' all that. I decide to help out by pickin' off a bandit some fella was 'bout to kill. Boy, that was a mistake. Fella kept yellin' at me, somethin' 'bout honor and such. I didn't understand what the was sayin', on account of his speech bein' almost unintelligible, but he looked madder than a wet hen. Without warnin', he charged at me with an axe. I started backpedalin', and fortunately, I was faster. Carefully keepin' my distance, I peppered him with crossbow bolts 'til he cried uncle.
Crit/Skill quotes:
"Last one standin' wins!"
"Gonna tear you a new bee-hind!"
"Yeehaw!"
"Bless your heart!"