In my humble opinion Oblivion is the penultimate elder scrolls game. I've played literally 100% of that game, every single quest, each and every side quest, every single unscripted quest, each and every DLC related quest - everything. It's good. Very good. I've played every quest on a single character, it was a glorious time.
I can only recommend you play it. It's not even dated yet.
@Leidenschaft Try and introduce Redding into things in a way that feels natural. I'll get up a response to whatever you post to help ease him into things.
@Tsar Gatto Its been ages since I've played it, but I might delve back in at some point. You make Oblivion sound very enticing.
My only gripes with Oblivion is that it felt bland and cultureless. I get that the game was about portals to hell opening and whatnot, but Morrowind and Skyrim, despite my gripes about that game, did a better job of showing off the unique and detailed cultures of their respective provinces. Morrowind is pretty clunky and a bit dated, but the way it presented Morrowind's people and customs was something that felt absent from the other games.
Compared to Morrowind, Cyrodiil is a run-of-the-mill not!Central/Western Europe-centric fantasy land. I would've liked to see the pretty clear divide between Nibenean and Colovian culture, as well as the racial divide between the man races, the Argonians, and the Khajiit in Bravil and Leyawiin.
@Kingfisher Am I correct in assuming that all the other characters are still looking for leads on Donna Lazzari and whatnot? Would Donna Lazzari send thugs out to bully small-time drug dealers into getting under her wing so she can take a cut of their profits and bug them for protection money?
Because, if so, Redding likes to be under more laissez-faire conditions and that might mean butting heads with Lazzari, which would put him on the side of the PCs.
Appearance: A malnourished runt of a woman, Abigail could have looked fairly beautiful were it not for the unforgiving conditions of the wastelands. Her physique is bony at best - small packs of muscle can be seen primarily on her arms and legs, but her abdomen retains the typical pot-belly and stunted growth of a starved child. She averages at around 5’2. Her hair has been haphazardly cut short and She usually wears thin, baggy clothing which makes Abigail seem even smaller than she actually is; the cloth bunches and gathers around the straps of some old sports gear she wears on top.
Race: Human
Strengths: Abigail’s hopeless when it comes to avoiding trouble, so she worked incredibly hard at being able to get out of it. She likes to label herself as an actress, when in fact she simply has a knack for thinking on the spot. Her photographic memory makes it easy for her to remember factual information such as scraps of conversation or certain mannerisms of particular people, and she can use what little she knows about her opponents to try and convince them she is either not a threat, or perhaps an ally.
Whenever she failed in her little ‘acts’ the outcome was usually a ruthless beating or getting shot, so Abigail quickly learned how to control her body right down to the facial expressions and body language. This helped immensely as, sometimes, the best thing she could do was run away. Since Abigail can’t run very far or for very long, she is far more skilled at hiding and stealth - by using her small frame and slight build, she has learned how to move around fluidly and silently.
Weaknesses: Addict, Magpie, Fragile -- The origin of Abigail’s weaknesses is undeniably her addiction to Med-X. This powerful painkiller has caused some irrevocable damage on the nervous system in her brain, making her photographic memory unreliable and being partly to blame for her compulsion to fidget. Perhaps the strongest (and weirdest) effect it has had on Abigail’s psyche is giving her magpie-like tendencies, primarily an overwhelming urge to take and hoard shiny things - even if it’s a very dangerous move to take. Her attention span is also rather short, meaning that she gets easily distracted at all the wrong moments.
A lifetime of beatings and poor nutrition has also made Abigail fragile - she takes longer to recover from physical injury, becomes fatigued easily and does terribly in hand-to-hand combat. This makes her solely dependent on her stealth and speech to truly survive - that, or the help of a few friends...
Personality: Abigail’s always been a little odd, for as long as anyone could remember. Stories in the Wasteland always focused on the hardened veterans, the ‘shoot-first-ask-questions-later’ folk, the lone wolves who can hold their own in any situation; those who are too weak to fight and survive have to find other means of keeping all their limbs intact. In Abigail’s case, she has developed a series of facades to switch between depending on the situation. The most common one is her theatrical, loud-mouthed and outgoing persona.The way she manages to maintain a constant sense of optimism, the jovial and almost theatrical way she spoke, the big smiles and boundless amounts of energy; these traits were pretty jarring when set against the backdrop of the unforgiving wastelands and its people. This bright outlook on life has undercurrents of nihilism, as she is wont to believe that everyone is going to die soon enough so there isn’t any point in wasting that time by brooding or generally being upset.
When she is hard at work or the situation demands some form of solemnity, Abigail shifts from one extreme to another. Quiet, scrutinising and very wary in her movements and speech patterns, Abigail becomes incredibly guarded and tries to remain as self-sufficient as possible. These moments are when her inferiority shine through; she acts naturally submissive, keeping out of the limelight and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. This is for her own sake, as she is actually quite cowardly and prone to running away instead of sticking around to fight. She’s the underdog who’d rather save her own skin than risk dying over a bag of caps.
Finally, there’s a sort of childlike inquisitiveness within Abigail. She is quite analytical of situations, and though she is not the brightest she likes to boast about having more common sense than many of the people she has met. She has the potential to become a very good tinkerer, but her restlessness and painfully short attention span prevent her from doing so. Certain things tend to capture her attention for long periods of time and she uses these as a sort of calming method or a way to stave off boredom; things such as counting, checking inventory, learning how to read and write or playing with shiny objects.
Skills/Attributes: Abigail’s strongest skill is her thievery. Lockpicking, pickpocketing, sneaking into old buildings through a gap in the boarded-up windows...if there’s a thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’s got the means and the skills to grab it. Aside from that, she’s pretty much useless aside from the basics - cooking, first aid, simple repairs and the like. She likes to commend her excellent skills as a mascot, however.
Back-story: Every time Abigail talks about her past, the story becomes more and more extravagant and outlandish to the point where the listener has a hard time trying to figure out what proportion of it was real and how much was just a rampant hallucinogenic fever dream during one of her Med-X highs. From what has been deciphered (and admittedly nobody cared that much to actually do it properly) Abigail’s early childhood is too hazy to distinguish. She’s been in Freeside of new Vegas for as long as she could remember, working as an informant to scrounge up some food. She didn’t make many friends, and ended up on the receiving end of quite a few punches.
One of Abigail’s business acquaintances suggested Med-X to help numb the pain, and she’s been addicted ever since. In order to get the caps to pay for her bad habit, Abigail took them from passers-by along with anything that looked like she could pawn it off. Her teenage years were a muddied tangle of poor excuses and lots of hiding; nobody gave a shit about a spindly little addict in Freeside, and her face was easily forgotten in the crowd of petty criminals that lived there.
Eventually, Abigail ran out of luck trying to pickpocket a local thug; she made a wrong turn into an alleyway and ended up being cornered by him and his goons. It would have taken a small miracle to make it out of that situation alive. Luckily, a stranger saw the commotion play out and decided to run after the fleeing thief. He shot the men down at point-blank range and offered Abigail a ‘second chance’ at life, seeing potential in her. Abigail took on a much more pragmatic approach and saw free food and shelter, so she jumped for the opportunity.
Abigail was initially wary of this man; he was religious, and she didn’t want to hear him preach. The prospect of finally leaving Freeside and getting to see all the weird and wonderful parts of the Wastelands was worth any sermons along the way, and the moment Abigail found out he wasn’t going to lecture her the duo got along like a house on fire. They have been travelling the Wastelands together for several years, living off bounties and mercenary work alongside Abigail’s shameless looting and thievery.
Unfortunately, @Dismas will not be with us for the rest of our journey through the wasteland. I hope I gave Horus' story a satisfying conclusion.
Ah, goddamnit, truth be told, he was one of my favorite characters and I wanted Redding to meet him. Didn't read this until after the post, maybe if Redding follows Horus's leads, he'll at least find his body.
Oh, well, that leaves Dallen to track down, tail and question.
Appearance: A malnourished runt of a woman, Abigail could have looked fairly beautiful were it not for the unforgiving conditions of the wastelands. Her physique is bony at best - small packs of muscle can be seen primarily on her arms and legs, but her abdomen retains the typical pot-belly and stunted growth of a starved child. She averages at around 5’2. Her hair has been haphazardly cut short and She usually wears thin, baggy clothing which makes Abigail seem even smaller than she actually is; the cloth bunches and gathers around the straps of some old sports gear she wears on top.
Race: Human
Strengths: Abigail’s hopeless when it comes to avoiding trouble, so she worked incredibly hard at being able to get out of it. She likes to label herself as an actress, when in fact she simply has a knack for thinking on the spot. Her photographic memory makes it easy for her to remember factual information such as scraps of conversation or certain mannerisms of particular people, and she can use what little she knows about her opponents to try and convince them she is either not a threat, or perhaps an ally.
Whenever she failed in her little ‘acts’ the outcome was usually a ruthless beating or getting shot, so Abigail quickly learned how to control her body right down to the facial expressions and body language. This helped immensely as, sometimes, the best thing she could do was run away. Since Abigail can’t run very far or for very long, she is far more skilled at hiding and stealth - by using her small frame and slight build, she has learned how to move around fluidly and silently.
Weaknesses: Addict, Magpie, Fragile -- The origin of Abigail’s weaknesses is undeniably her addiction to Med-X. This powerful painkiller has caused some irrevocable damage on the nervous system in her brain, making her photographic memory unreliable and being partly to blame for her compulsion to fidget. Perhaps the strongest (and weirdest) effect it has had on Abigail’s psyche is giving her magpie-like tendencies, primarily an overwhelming urge to take and hoard shiny things - even if it’s a very dangerous move to take. Her attention span is also rather short, meaning that she gets easily distracted at all the wrong moments.
A lifetime of beatings and poor nutrition has also made Abigail fragile - she takes longer to recover from physical injury, becomes fatigued easily and does terribly in hand-to-hand combat. This makes her solely dependent on her stealth and speech to truly survive - that, or the help of a few friends...
Personality: Abigail’s always been a little odd, for as long as anyone could remember. Stories in the Wasteland always focused on the hardened veterans, the ‘shoot-first-ask-questions-later’ folk, the lone wolves who can hold their own in any situation; those who are too weak to fight and survive have to find other means of keeping all their limbs intact. In Abigail’s case, she has developed a series of facades to switch between depending on the situation. The most common one is her theatrical, loud-mouthed and outgoing persona.The way she manages to maintain a constant sense of optimism, the jovial and almost theatrical way she spoke, the big smiles and boundless amounts of energy; these traits were pretty jarring when set against the backdrop of the unforgiving wastelands and its people. This bright outlook on life has undercurrents of nihilism, as she is wont to believe that everyone is going to die soon enough so there isn’t any point in wasting that time by brooding or generally being upset.
When she is hard at work or the situation demands some form of solemnity, Abigail shifts from one extreme to another. Quiet, scrutinising and very wary in her movements and speech patterns, Abigail becomes incredibly guarded and tries to remain as self-sufficient as possible. These moments are when her inferiority shine through; she acts naturally submissive, keeping out of the limelight and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. This is for her own sake, as she is actually quite cowardly and prone to running away instead of sticking around to fight. She’s the underdog who’d rather save her own skin than risk dying over a bag of caps.
Finally, there’s a sort of childlike inquisitiveness within Abigail. She is quite analytical of situations, and though she is not the brightest she likes to boast about having more common sense than many of the people she has met. She has the potential to become a very good tinkerer, but her restlessness and painfully short attention span prevent her from doing so. Certain things tend to capture her attention for long periods of time and she uses these as a sort of calming method or a way to stave off boredom; things such as counting, checking inventory, learning how to read and write or playing with shiny objects.
Skills/Attributes: Abigail’s strongest skill is her thievery. Lockpicking, pickpocketing, sneaking into old buildings through a gap in the boarded-up windows...if there’s a thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’s got the means and the skills to grab it. Aside from that, she’s pretty much useless aside from the basics - cooking, first aid, simple repairs and the like. She likes to commend her excellent skills as a mascot, however.
Back-story: Every time Abigail talks about her past, the story becomes more and more extravagant and outlandish to the point where the listener has a hard time trying to figure out what proportion of it was real and how much was just a rampant hallucinogenic fever dream during one of her Med-X highs. From what has been deciphered (and admittedly nobody cared that much to actually do it properly) Abigail’s early childhood is too hazy to distinguish. She’s been in Freeside of new Vegas for as long as she could remember, working as an informant to scrounge up some food. She didn’t make many friends, and ended up on the receiving end of quite a few punches.
One of Abigail’s business acquaintances suggested Med-X to help numb the pain, and she’s been addicted ever since. In order to get the caps to pay for her bad habit, Abigail took them from passers-by along with anything that looked like she could pawn it off. Her teenage years were a muddied tangle of poor excuses and lots of hiding; nobody gave a shit about a spindly little addict in Freeside, and her face was easily forgotten in the crowd of petty criminals that lived there.
Eventually, Abigail ran out of luck trying to pickpocket a local thug; she made a wrong turn into an alleyway and ended up being cornered by him and his goons. It would have taken a small miracle to make it out of that situation alive. Luckily, a stranger saw the commotion play out and decided to run after the fleeing thief. He shot the men down at point-blank range and offered Abigail a ‘second chance’ at life, seeing potential in her. Abigail took on a much more pragmatic approach and saw free food and shelter, so she jumped for the opportunity.
Abigail was initially wary of this man; he was religious, and she didn’t want to hear him preach. The prospect of finally leaving Freeside and getting to see all the weird and wonderful parts of the Wastelands was worth any sermons along the way, and the moment Abigail found out he wasn’t going to lecture her the duo got along like a house on fire. They have been travelling the Wastelands together for several years, living off bounties and mercenary work alongside Abigail’s shameless looting and thievery.
Other: N/A
Hey, maybe Redding and Abigail can have a thread that ties them together. With Abigail's addiction to Med-X and her tendency to go thieving, she could've stumbled across Redding's stash, which would've been the Med-X jackpot. Of course, that doesn't explain the piss in the whiskey bottle, though... Or the note...
Maybe she's asking around for Med-X in Redding's neck of the woods and that's how he finds her.
I recommend just going with the flow. No need to rush us all together, it'll all come together eventually...ill try to post tonight. Though im not sure what to do with this map quest im on....my quests are pileing on!
Brooks stands at around 5’10 with a stocky figure and a rotund belly. His hair is a darkish brown, but the roots are starting to shine silver with age. His face is lined with age and darkened with a layer of grime and dirt; from behind his dark, bushy brows Brooks’ brown eyes are usually squinted against the harsh sunlight, and a short greying beard does little to hide the habitual scowl on his face.
His choice of outfit tends to be a sweat-stained, loose-fitting shirt rolled up at the elbows and a pair of coarse cargo pants, the pockets filled with essentials - bullets, shotgun shells, caps. His belt has been modified with a hard leather harness to hold a small bible at his hip. His guns clatter by his side and he has a couple of satchels slung over his shoulders. Resting on his breastbone is a tarnished silver chain with a small Christian cross dangling from it. At night, he wears a dusty grey trench coat to keep warm.
Race: Human
Strengths:
- Endurance: Years of helping strangers and local towns has granted Brooks the gift of stamina and physical toughness. From plowing seeds to helping maintain make-shift pastures, Brooks is accustomed to working under the scalding sun and cool nights.
- Perception: Travelling alone has sculpted Brooks’ senses into a heightened state. Improving his ability to see, hear, and notice things other people would not.
- Intelligence: A daily dosage of the worn out and torn bible he carries with him allowed Brooks to become a well read man, the books contents offering him knowledge, wisdom and the ability to think quickly.
Weaknesses:
- Stubborn: Years of arguing his way out of fights and travelling alone has made it very difficult to get Brooks to change his mind once he’s got a set idea in his head. In his little world, his word is law; you’d need a small miracle to work around whatever goal he’s set off to achieve.
- Judgemental: For Brooks, first impressions really are everything. He takes you at face value and if he doesn’t like what he sees, you’ll have a damn hard time trying to work your way out of his assumptions.
- Rude: There’s a reason Brooks travels alone. His brutal honesty and tendency to make snide remarks has hardly made him a particularly amicable person, and he shows no shame in speaking his mind.
Personality:
Brooks is practical. A realistic attitude has allowed him to be able to expect the worst and avoid nasty surprises; he rarely sees the good in people. His firm, cold demeanour emanates authority, but his respect needs to be earned through actions before he can trust you. He adheres to a loose moral code due to his belief in Christianity whilst understanding that sometimes the only way to survive is to fight dirty. This doesn’t stop him from reading and quoting the bible on a regular basis, however. He’s stubborn, narrow-minded and quick to make assumptions of people based on their appearance. Fortunately, Brooks is also very self-sufficient, and can go for long voyages on his own if need be.
Hidden behind his cold and hostile exterior is a bit of a soft side. A family man at heart, Brooks is steadfastly loyal and protective over those who he truly cares about. It would take a long time to be able to reach this level of intimacy with Brooks these days however as his past has made him very guarded and secretive, unwilling to divulge in his personal affairs.
Skills/Attributes:
- Hunter: Hunting wasteland wildlife and feral monsters has blessed Brooks with the knowledge and skill to proficiently wield a rifle against a broad variation of creatures. Repeated exposure to dangerous creatures has allowed Brooks to figure and adapt to their individual weak-points.
- Tracking: By examining his environment Brooks can distinguish varying tracks from one another, allowing him to not only be efficient in cking:tracking animals, but also clue him in on people’s location.
- Barter: When travelling solo, every cap counts. Brooks is determined to get the best deals out of any situation, so he is exceptionally good at negotiation and deal-making.
Back-story:
Brooks was born in a less than ideal area near Salt Lake City in the state of Utah to a less than ideal dad. With the streets running rampant with crime, his future looked bleak. In a time of need people throughout history tended to turn to a beacon of hope, something that shone with promises of salvation; for Brooks and his mother that beacon was the christian faith. With nothing more than the shirt on his back, the love of his mother, and the bible tucked under his pillow, Brooks endured.
Being forced to pitch in to contributing to the family funds at an early age, Brooks set out to help the locals with as many mediocre tasks as possible. One task lead to another, and once he was of age to properly wield and use a weapon, the odd-job tasks turned into clearing out critters or chasing down packs of predators stirring trouble to local pastures and crops. Eventually, after realising how proficient he had become, Brooks expanded his horizon in regards to what he could do. He left town more than occasionally to hunt creatures for trophies and caps, or track wanted outlaws dwelling nearby.
The years passed on and Brooks’ mother eventually succumbed to the harsh death of radiation poisoning. After having suffered through turbulent experiences along with her son, the poverty, the abuse, the heartache, it had all become too much for her to bear on top of the painfully slow death she was facing. This would mark one of the lowest points Brooks had to endure during his adult life. Not knowing how to cope and without his mother's presence, he felt the grasp that religion had on him slip. After she died Brooks turned to the one thing his father had taught him, the bottle. The next years in Brooks’ life wasted away as he consumed drink after drink, all until he went through an especially difficult week of binging alcohol, realizing his self destructive path.
When it dawned upon him that his home had nothing besides bad memories left for him, Brooks did the best thing he could; he said his farewells, packed his belongings, and began to walk into a direction that would hopefully offer him some purpose. After being alone on the the road for nearly twenty years, some small act of fate caused him to cross paths with a young, malnourished girl. He watched from the entrance of an alley as three thugs came rushing out with the aforementioned girl huddled up defensively in its far corner. Scowling, he confronted the girl, only to be told that her belongings had been stolen by the three goons. Not thinking much about what trouble he might stir up, he chased the three men down to confront them. One harsh remark lead to another, and the situation took a turn for the worse as he shot all three of them in the alley. Brooks returned the items that were reportedly stolen back to the girl, and lent her a helping hand. The small favour was enough to have her trailing after him for weeks; eventually they had travelled too far for the kid to return home, and Brooks reluctantly let her stay. They have been travelling the Wastelands together for several years, living off bounties and mercenary work alongside Brooks’ hunting skills and deal-brokering.
Not that they should become a dynamic duo, it just pays to network in criminal undergrounds.
Mind you, it doesn't mean I haven't considered it. But Abigail is waaay too small-scale to even be considered by Redding. She's kept as much distance as possible from the criminal undergrounds - she's a thief by necessity and, as you can see, she probably responded to the lowest of low-life scum out there in Freeside. Mainly because she's got enough common sense to know that she's too weak to actually make it out there. There's no way in hell she'd steal any drugs stash - she'd have to literally be dying to even consider the thought because she would inevitably end up riddled with bullet holes in a gutter.
So I gave her some different plans. She's left Freeside several years back, so I doubt she would have much involvement there anyway.
Mind you, it doesn't mean I haven't considered it. But Abigail is waaay too small-scale to even be considered by Redding. She's kept as much distance as possible from the criminal undergrounds - she's a thief by necessity and, as you can see, she probably responded to the lowest of low-life scum out there in Freeside. Mainly because she's got enough common sense to know that she's too weak to actually make it out there. There's no way in hell she'd steal any drugs stash - she'd have to literally be dying to even consider the thought because she would inevitably end up riddled with bullet holes in a gutter.
So I gave her some different plans. She's left Freeside several years back, so I doubt she would have much involvement there anyway.
Well, the friendly neighborhood drug dealer is always open for business if she needs the stuff.
I got a bag of alejandros stuff too, I feel a trade coming on. Also, cant post til im home tomorrow.
Yea, what with Redding being a pimp that is in sore need of another girl, and Mancini having recently gotten ahold of Darlia, I wonder if I know what his business opportunity might be. Of course, it would be pretty outlandish and I doubt Mancini would propose that. He might be calling up Redding more for his expertise of making people disappear.
Maybe he's just hoping to get rid of Redding by sending him you know where for whatever reason. Either way, Redding might have had a few interactions with Alejandro being both a fellow drug dealer and a user himself, so he might recognize his bag on Dallen.
- Endurance: Years of helping strangers and local towns has granted Brooks the gift of stamina and physical toughness. From plowing seeds to helping maintain make-shift pastures, Brooks is accustomed to working under the scalding sun and cool nights.
- Perception: Travelling alone has sculpted Brooks’ senses into a heightened state. Improving his ability to see, hear, and notice things other people would not.
- Intelligence: A daily dosage of the worn out and torn bible he carries with him allowed Brooks to become a well read man, the books contents offering him knowledge, wisdom and the ability to think quickly.
Weaknesses:
- Stubborn: Years of arguing his way out of fights and travelling alone has made it very difficult to get Brooks to change his mind once he’s got a set idea in his head. In his little world, his word is law; you’d need a small miracle to work around whatever goal he’s set off to achieve.
- Judgemental: For Brooks, first impressions really are everything. He takes you at face value and if he doesn’t like what he sees, you’ll have a damn hard time trying to work your way out of his assumptions.
- Rude: There’s a reason Brooks travels alone. His brutal honesty and tendency to make snide remarks has hardly made him a particularly amicable person, and he shows no shame in speaking his mind.
Personality:
Brooks is practical. A realistic attitude has allowed him to be able to expect the worst and avoid nasty surprises; he rarely sees the good in people. His firm, cold demeanour emanates authority, but his respect needs to be earned through actions before he can trust you. He adheres to a loose moral code due to his belief in Christianity whilst understanding that sometimes the only way to survive is to fight dirty. This doesn’t stop him from reading and quoting the bible on a regular basis, however. He’s stubborn, narrow-minded and quick to make assumptions of people based on their appearance. Fortunately, Brooks is also very self-sufficient, and can go for long voyages on his own if need be.
Hidden behind his cold and hostile exterior is a bit of a soft side. A family man at heart, Brooks is steadfastly loyal and protective over those who he truly cares about. It would take a long time to be able to reach this level of intimacy with Brooks these days however as his past has made him very guarded and secretive, unwilling to divulge in his personal affairs.
Skills/Attributes:
- Hunter: Hunting wasteland wildlife and feral monsters has blessed Brooks with the knowledge and skill to proficiently wield a rifle against a broad variation of creatures. Repeated exposure to dangerous creatures has allowed Brooks to figure and adapt to their individual weak-points.
- Tracking: By examining his environment Brooks can distinguish varying tracks from one another, allowing him to not only be efficient in cking:tracking animals, but also clue him in on people’s location.
- Barter: When travelling solo, every cap counts. Brooks is determined to get the best deals out of any situation, so he is exceptionally good at negotiation and deal-making.
Back-story:
Brooks was born in a less than ideal area near Salt Lake City in the state of Utah to a less than ideal dad. With the streets running rampant with crime, his future looked bleak. In a time of need people throughout history tended to turn to a beacon of hope, something that shone with promises of salvation; for Brooks and his mother that beacon was the christian faith. With nothing more than the shirt on his back, the love of his mother, and the bible tucked under his pillow, Brooks endured.
Being forced to pitch in to contributing to the family funds at an early age, Brooks set out to help the locals with as many mediocre tasks as possible. One task lead to another, and once he was of age to properly wield and use a weapon, the odd-job tasks turned into clearing out critters or chasing down packs of predators stirring trouble to local pastures and crops. Eventually, after realising how proficient he had become, Brooks expanded his horizon in regards to what he could do. He left town more than occasionally to hunt creatures for trophies and caps, or track wanted outlaws dwelling nearby.
The years passed on and Brooks’ mother eventually succumbed to the harsh death of radiation poisoning. After having suffered through turbulent experiences along with her son, the poverty, the abuse, the heartache, it had all become too much for her to bear on top of the painfully slow death she was facing. This would mark one of the lowest points Brooks had to endure during his adult life. Not knowing how to cope and without his mother's presence, he felt the grasp that religion had on him slip. After she died Brooks turned to the one thing his father had taught him, the bottle. The next years in Brooks’ life wasted away as he consumed drink after drink, all until he went through an especially difficult week of binging alcohol, realizing his self destructive path.
When it dawned upon him that his home had nothing besides bad memories left for him, Brooks did the best thing he could; he said his farewells, packed his belongings, and began to walk into a direction that would hopefully offer him some purpose. After being alone on the the road for nearly twenty years, some small act of fate caused him to cross paths with a young, malnourished girl. He watched from the entrance of an alley as three thugs came rushing out with the aforementioned girl huddled up defensively in its far corner. Scowling, he confronted the girl, only to be told that her belongings had been stolen by the three goons. Not thinking much about what trouble he might stir up, he chased the three men down to confront them. One harsh remark lead to another, and the situation took a turn for the worse as he shot all three of them in the alley. Brooks returned the items that were reportedly stolen back to the girl, and lent her a helping hand. The small favour was enough to have her trailing after him for weeks; eventually they had travelled too far for the kid to return home, and Brooks reluctantly let her stay. They have been travelling the Wastelands together for several years, living off bounties and mercenary work alongside Brooks’ hunting skills and deal-brokering.
Hey looks good to me. I'm sure Kingfisher'll be along to have a look soon, but nothing stands out as an issue to me.
I'll be looking to get another post up today maybe tomorrow, get Anneliese stuck in things. I'm looking forwards to clashing, especially with our more chem indulgent types, see where her holier-than-thou attitude gets her to start with.
@Biscuits Would've liked a little bit more in terms of description for Brook's appearance, but other than that everything looks good. Accepted- Feel free to move him to the CS tab.
