[hider][b]Name[/b]: Neil Edwards

[b]Rank[/b]: Sergeant (And ranking Engineer)

[b]Physical attributes[/b]: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn’t exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn’t big at all, but he is also not small. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.

[b]Augmentations[/b]: None 

[b]Psych Profile[/b]: Neil is considered eccentric, with a mental disorder no one has been able to pinpoint. He tends to view life as if it's a game, or a fun movie he gets to be apart of. He'll talk and treat people genuinely, when the situation calls for it. But he never acts as if he is in danger, and sometimes he revels in it. He'll joke, make quips, be inappropriate and act like a complete liability. But in truth, he's quick and dangerous, does his job with surprising efficiency and is a fine engineer. 

[b]History[/b]: Born to a lower class family on a backwater planet, Neil had two big sisters and two loving parents. He grew up going to school, working in the local mech repair shop, and thieving occasionally. When the call to join the UPN arrived, he literally had nothing better to do. He was seen as an exemplary talent and mind, but his drill intructor/staff sergeant's worst nightmare. Seemed odd fate that he rose in the ranks to become one.  

[b]Armor[/b]: Has a standard [url=http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/halo/images/5/58/Close_Quarters_Combat_Trooper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20081226192436]special operations armor suit[/url] he had pieced together himself when it had been damaged almost beyond repair, and he uses it for space missions and when under heavy fire. Mostly, he wears his civilian clothes with a flack jacket and utility belt with a built in holster.

[b]Weapons[/b]: Standard 45. Caliber Sidearm, and Pump Action Shotgun, Blow Torch, Wrench. 

[hider=Writing Example from Dragon Age RP]As the wall of Wardens commenced with the oncoming horde, and Daeron flew above the lines with Beaky, Rannon waded through the weak link in the line of soldiers with his sword leading. The huge blade caving in the skull of a genlock, dropping the foul creature with a resounding crack of bone. He kicked its toppling body forward, and back-stepped as a group of Hurlock shock troopers charged forward.
Rannon kept his eye on the Warden lines, making sure not to sprint too far and get overwhelmed by the horde. Luckily it seemed there were plenty of monsters to go around, and seven Hurlocks seemed to fancy him as a target. His huge blade whipped in a wild arc to keep them back, drawing their attention as his allies leaped forward and engaged, harrying four of the Darkspawn.

That left him three to face in his direct line of sight. Ever moving and screeching, the Hurlocks slashed forward in arcs with their wicked blades. He clove at the swing of one, while ducking a second sword in a simultaneous and fluid motion. The third Hurlock couldn't get passed its comrades, fortunately. While crouched, he gave a feral growl and shoulder rushed the Hurlock that had swung wide above his head. It staggered the Darkspawn, and he drew his blade closer to slit its stomach quickly before he waded back in practiced steps. His sword leading as he stepped, he reveresed his momentum and let the blade drive forward suddenly, taking the second Hurlock that had raised its blade, straight in the chest. The third had finally gotten room, and swiped at Rannon. The experienced man had to let go of his sword to avoid being cut from forehead to chest. He savagely grabbed at the blade when he saw the following opening, grappling with the monster for the weapon. Foetid breath threatened to choke him, but years of hatred for this race of monsters lent extra strength to his limbs, and he held onto the hilt of the sword with one hand as he punched the Hurlock straight in the face. It cut his Knuckles something fierce, and the Darkspawn's throat rumbled with returned hatred as it headbutted forwards, catching Rannon on the face and splitting his lip.
The soldier grunted and leaped away, relinquishing the Darkspawns sword as he tried to get his own. He didn't know if he could get it in time, but it seemed it didn't matter.

One hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle flew past the soldier and hit the Hurlock like a cannon shot. It ripped into its flesh with vicious canine teeth, before trotting over to Rannon and giving a friendly 'harumph'. There was a small moment of calm that spoke volumes about this man and his companion. When he saw his dog in the lull of combat, he seemed almost twenty four again, before his softened visage hardened once more.

The Fereldan soldier gave a vicious grin to Gideon, and patted the Mabari on the head. He grabbed his sword as he spoke. "You just had to finish your meal before showing up." he lectured, ripping his blade out of the Darkspawn corpse. The Dog barked in answer, but Rannon didn't have time to reply again as more Darkspawn broke through.

Rannon was no mage or legendary Grey Warden. He couldn't topple buildings or fly above on Griffon-back. But he'd be damned if he wasn't here on this battlefield. It was the only place he belonged. The only place where he could make a difference.
With a snarl that would do his Mabari proud, he kicked off the ground and split a genlocks skull from ear hole to ear hole.[/hider][/hider]