Name: Wang Yong Feng (A.K.A Scorpion)
Age: 24
Nationality: Chinese-American
Moral Standing: Chaotic Good
Appearance: Standing at 178 centimeters tall, Yong Feng is of average height. He has a slender build, not too bulky, but not exactly a walking skeleton either. His skin has been tanned by the sun during his long journeys through the American west. His black hair is cut just short enough so that it would not impede his sight. The fringe sits comfortably on his brow and the back touching the collar of his shirt. Regardless of the scenario, he is always wearing a long brown coat over a grey shirt, a bandana covering the lower half of his face and a wide-brimmed hat, often pulled low to cover his eyes. A belt secures the coat around his waist, as well as carrying the holster for his revolver and sheath for his knife. Ammunition is carried in pouches attached to a strap running across his body.
Abilities: As a child, his father taught him the ways of the sword, and from there, Yong Feng gained his exemplary skills in fighting with blades. An excellent marksman, he can be considered a danger at both long and close ranges. Having lived off the land during his early days in America, he has learned the ways of the survivalist, hunting and foraging for his very survival. He is a decent sneak, but only during the night, when he can easily use the darkness as cover.
Weaknesses: His understanding of the English language is very limited. He can understand what you mean, but he cannot speak the language. As such, he rarely speaks. It is normal for someone to know Yong Feng for months and still not hear a word from him. Much of his communication is done non-verbally, either through hand signals or writing out what he means using the few words he knows. He is also a poor team player. He is far too used to operating on his own. Working with a team is something he never put much thought into.
Equipment:
- Graz Rifle
- Colt Peacemaker
- Hunting Knife
- Rucksack containing essentials (Salt, bandages, basic medication, rudimentary tools to keep his weapons maintained, etc, etc)
Background: Yong Feng was born on Hainan Island and lived there until he was 20 years old, when the Sino-French war broke out. Full of patriotic fervour, and not wanting to see China be humiliated by the Westerners any further, he signed up the first chance he got and went eagerly into the fight. Initially armed with little more than a sabre more befitting of warriors from centuries past, Yong Feng was one of the lucky ones who survived long enough to scavenge a rifle from a dead French soldier. Ammunition was scarce in the beginning and every shot had to count. Yong Feng quickly displayed his aptitude for marksmanship, sniping enemy officers and sharpshooters before they even had a chance to find him. He fought guerrilla battles against the French, taking a few shot at them, taking out their commanders and officers before melting away into the landscape.
China ultimately lost the war, in the sense that the French achieved their war goals. The defeats dealt to the French wasn't enough to win the war. Yong Feng returned home with little. He had not enough money to support both himself and his aging parents. With little choice, he turned to crime, robbing caravans on ill-protected roads of their money and goods. It was still not enough. His parents were dead before the year was over, due to hunger and the poor living conditions. With nothing left for him, Yong Feng used whatever money he had and bought himself passage to America. All he had was his rifle, his father's hunting knife and a rucksack with nothing inside. He made a promise to himself that he would carve out a better life for himself.
Landing in California, Yong Feng immediately began job hunting. Unfortunately, apart from constructing train tracks and smoking opium, he found out that there was very little someone like him could do. He started out by hunting animals in the wilderness and selling their hides and meats to get a steady income started up. The first thing he needed was clothes. He reasoned that if he could hide his race as much as possible and speak as little as possible, then he could probably eke out an existence as a hunter. As long as no one asked questions, it would all be fine. It worked out well in the beginning, but he began to find a darker use for his skills. When bandits began threatening the small town he operated out of, he took it upon himself to eliminate them as a threat. Putting his skills to good use, the tracked them back to their camp and waited until nightfall. Using the darkness as cover, he sneaked into their camp, dispatching the lone sentry by slitting his throat. He proceeded to use his knife to kill the rest of the four bandits, making sure to kill them in the most gruesome way possible and leaving their corpses out in the desert as a warning.
His actions, while celebrated by the townsfolk, was not so well accepted by the Sheriff, who wanted a proper trial. Yong Feng, respecting the wishes of the sheriff, left the town and wandered the land, picking up jobs as a hunter of both animals and men. He was given the nickname 'Scorpion' by a fellow mercenary he worked with for a short period of time. The mercenary had been impressed by Yong Feng's sneaking abilities, enough to christen the Chinaman with a nickname. Like the Scorpion, Yong Feng had the tendency to sneak into enemy camps and kill them with a precise bite of his blade before they even knew what was going on. Yong Feng decided that it was suitable and stuck with it. It would soon be one of the few words he could pronounce without too much of an accent. Enough for him to introduce himself without alerting anyone to his race.
Eventually, his travels took him to the town of Marrow. Intrigued by the signs posted around the settlement, Yong Feng decided to head to the town hall to at least get an idea as to what it was all about.



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