Name: Bernard Löwert
Age: 37

Looks:
Bern prefers to wear his ranger helmet for a damn good reason in the fact that outside of his uniform, his natural bad posture, diminutive and even ugly physique hardly allow him to command the same respect he does otherwise. His physique is still however a statement on his methods of operation and where other veterans show their numerous scars with pride, Bern spites them for their macho conduct, preferring his own skin that only shows the traces of a bad box that almost snuffed the life out of him when he was a teenager. 'No need to be tough enough to survive attrocious wounds when you're smart enough not to get them in the first place.' is the way he thinks. Ultimately, the frown of mild disgust he has for his comrades seem to be rather permanently imprinted on his face, though it is sometimes replaced by a smug smile.

Personality:
Bernard was bullied when he was young and it shows a great deal. Ironic that he would hate the macho alpha males so much while being in one of the most elite branch of the army basically filled with them. Others think that he just has 'issues', but that doesn't even begin to cover it. He will admit himself that his dislike of others (and it goes double for women) is frustration due to his own crippling lack of charisma, but it goes deeper than that. No, being an introvert spending most of his time educating himself rather than socializing, he has come to despise the republic that employs him and its sham of a meritocracy. No, the number of times he was passed for a promotion because the guy next to him was simply more likable. Democracy itself! What a joke, just a contest of popularity. Even crime and justice was just a contest of rhetoric, certainly not a tool to find the truth.

This has made him secretly sympathetic to the legion. If he was confronted about this terrible secret he'd of course go on and on on the practicality of solid leadership based on intelligence and not on the ability to please a crowd though in secret there is a certain fantasy of just enslaving a woman for himself, have a plot of land and hire a few people to grow his crops... that or maybe make a name for himself rather than just be another 'Ranger' so that someone would maybe mourn him or cheer at his death, rather than just vanish in the sand.

Faction: NCR! (For now...)

S.P.E.C.I.A.L
Strength: 6
Perception: 7
Endurance: 6
Charisma: 1
Intelligence: 7
Agility: 8
Luck: 10

Backstory:
Bernard was always called a huge nerd back in school, and that was on a good day as on a bad one he could expect the worst forms of torture imaginable for a kid (Born in the city, far away from raiders and super mutants). But this isn't some fantasy world with free superior education, oh no, Bernard found out the hard way that a single alcoholic mother could hardly afford superior education for her only child. At first Bern kind of drifted from place to place, doing menial jobs and becoming increasingly angry at the system for all the reasons possible. Ultimately however, he met a girl. Well, encountered. From a distance. They might have spoken on about 3 occasions and she didn't insult him or anything so that was all he needed to get a crush really. Still, a dishwasher boy really couldn't expect to impress a cute girl like that so he kept his distance. Speaking about his crush to a friend however, said guy, an even bigger nerd, laughed at him. 'There's you and right here in the streets there's... hey look at that, a ranger! How can you even compete?' Well... what could someone do when a ranger was interested eh?

The poor fellow really did see the army as his salvation, a way to gain social status, some wealth and impress someone special. His career seemed to naturally go toward a bureaucratic role, at most that of an engineer, but Bernard wouldn't hear it, it would just be walking the same shoes he did all of his life! He worked hard and ultimately got what he wanted: Ranger. He walked home with pride in his stride but found his mother uncaring, his friends on the defensive now that he was 'better than them' and worst of all, quickly came to the crushing realization that having trained for years in an overly masculine field hardly made his social skills with women any better. He quickly abandoned his original plan of asking the girl of his dream out as when he knocked on her door, the boyfriend answered.

And so Bernard continued to live his life alone, trying some amateur writing but stopping after he was discovered and humiliated for it by his fellow rangers, finding solace in solitary recon work and in trapping stupid raiders in ingenious ambushes. It was of course at this point that the deployment in the mojave happened. He only took minor role in the battle of the damn, spotting for artillery and taking pot shots at officers of the legion, but he couldn't help but admire rather than despise Caesar who had with knowledge of Rome managed to get an empire of his own. The half retarded barbarians of the legion themselves were brain dead idiots beyond him but Caesar... A more impressive figure than the president at least.

Weapon choice:
-Anti-material Rifle
-Revolver
-Grenades
-Mines

Perks:
+Splash Damage
+Better Criticals
+Weapon Handling

'Tagged' Skills
+Guns
+Explosives
+Sneak
+Repair
+Science

'Weak' Skills
-Speech
-Barter

Any other info not included in the above:

Name:
Rasmus Arvanitis
Age:
46
Personality:
Rasmus, being the figurehead of his tribe, shows the true meaning of what it is to be part of the Sons. He remains stoic, believing emotions cloud the mind from making rational decisions. He holds fast against adversity, often leading the charge of battle, believing a leader should never cower behind walls. His aims to bring his tribe to greatness, and to cement their name in the pages of history. He hopes to one day carve out part of the wasteland where his tribe can settle and prosper once more. He allows himself to be influenced from the outside world, hoping to garner inspiration, knowledge and much more. He allows himself to be open-minded but not to forget the bigger picture. Behind closed doors, Rasmus doubts himself. He feels as though he has betrayed his tribe into walking a darker path with him. Which he believes will take them away from their way of life. Because of this, he has become more detached, hoping to deprive his feelings for his tribes, in case something were to happen.

Faction:
The New Legion: Sons of Spártī (working title)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L:
Strength: 8
Perception: 5
Endurance: 6
Charisma: 7
Intelligence: 7
Agility: 7
Luck: 5

Backstory:

Rasmus Arvanitis was born in the tribe appropriately called Sons of Spártī, whom were replicated after the Greek city-state known as Sparta. It's upbringing was similar as to that of the Legion. The tribe was located in the state of Arizona, Legion territory. A man who called himself Lacedaemon had found several books about Sparta and it's way of life and had brought that history back to life into his tribe.

Lacedaemon, is also known as Rasmus' father. Lacedaemon trained his son separately from the other children, hoping to bring forth a great leader of his young son. Rasmus was pushed to his limits throughout his childhood, both psychically and mentally. Lacedaemon no longer saw a son, but a weapon he could forge. The boy often was beaten for making mistakes or for no reason at all. There was no mother. Rasmus lost his mother when he was but a baby and remains to have no memory of her, but is often told he has vast similarities of her. Rumors claim that his mother was from another tribe and after the birth of Rasmus, was murdered to cover Rasmus' illegitimacy.

Many years later, the Legion was growing rapidly, subjugating neighboring tribes. The Sons' settlement was off the Colorado river and was in the way of what is now known as 'Fortification Hill'. The Legion, knowing the simplest way was through the Sons. A centuriae was sent to annihilate the Sons' completely. The Sons held fast against the Legion troops, using their environment to tunnel them in and kill them one at a time. Days after, Lacedaemon received a message from one of the Legion troops who had failed prior, whom shortly died before Lacedaemon from the injuries that he was given for failure. The message was clear, the Sons would surrender and pledge themselves before Caesar or be shown the true might of the Legion. Lacedaemon chose the latter, believing that only someone of the tribe should have control of the Sons'. Both the tribe and the Legion came at full force. The tribe consisted of a few hundred, while the Legion came in the thousands. During the battle, Lacedaemon was slain, and so were many of the Spártī. Caesar, being as ever merciful as he was ruthless, gave the remaining Sons' a refined offer: In recognition of their courage and skill in battle, the Sons of Spártī would be spared. Rising to the occasion, Rasmus did what his father could not, guarantee the survival of the Sons. Rasmus and his tribe pledged themselves before Caesar and given themselves to his Legion. Serving the Legion, the Sons of Spártī and Rasmus had proven themselves to be capable warriors and had ascended to be an elite force that rivaled the NCR's Rangers. After assimilating with the Legion, the Sons had acquired knowledge of firearms and were quite capable in their use, but they mainly fore-goed the usage of firearms in preference of their traditional melee combat.

The Sons and Rasmus remain of the Hill with Caesar and his legion. They await to act out under his will, in hopes to due battle with the NCR and to go toe-to-toe with their unproclaimed rivals, The Rangers.

Weapon choice:

• Xiphos, a crudely constructed sword modeled after the ancient Spartans.
• 9mm pistol

Perks:

• Stonewall!
• Piercing Strike
• Terrifying Presence

'Tagged' Skills:

• Melee
• Speech
• Survival

'Weak' Skills:

• Guns

Sample CS/My GMPC:

Name: Paradise 'Par' Rapids

Age: 19

Looks:


Personality: Par looks like someone motivated to make a quick buck, and most of the time, that much is true. He likes bottlecaps/water whatever you can pay him, and is often out for the most profitable trade deals. He also likes sex (dude or gal, it doesn't really matter), and isn't above using it to gain an advantage. But, underneath it all, there is a dedicated, somewhat idealistic person who genuinely believes in the power of free and fair - emphasis on fair - trade and genuinely honest living, a power that, he believes, can rebuild civilization in a better form.

Faction
S.P.E.C.I.A.L= (45 Points spread wisely. Cannot go over 10 on any one stat)
Strength: 4
Perception: 5
Endurance: 4
Charisma: 9
Intelligence: 10
Agility: 7
Luck: 6 (+1 from Intense Training, so 7)

Backstory: Born in NCR Territory to two members of the Crimson Caravan, Arthur and Miranda Rapids, Par was taught how to pursue the family business from an early age. Intelligent, precocious, and good with technology, Par was also handsome and, although not strong, was fast and decently lucky, allowing him to charm many people into giving him a fair and favorable deal. Nevertheless, he remained under the shadow of his parents until he turned sixteen, when he, along with some bodyguards, were allowed to strike out on their own, towards the Mojave and New Vegas. There, Par was confident he'd make his fortune and find adventure.

The Mojave would prove a harsh teacher, however, as Par, after a string of successful deals, would then be tricked into gambling away most of his money in New Vegas itself, leaving him without his wares, without anything to pay his bodyguards, and barely avoiding slavery or death. He did keep the clothes on his back, a set of mechanical tools, some food and a stimpack, and more importantly, his skills with technology were still in his head. And finally, he avoided getting fired, despite enduring intolerable public humiliation from the higher-ups in the Crimson Caravan's local HQ. He still had enough to plan for a comeback, and he was going to do it the honest way...at least at first.

First, going to the lower city, he found a member of the Kings and paid him to act as a bodyguard for a stimpack. Then, noticing that the Kings' gangster had an ill-maintained pistol, he offered to repair it as an alternate payment instead of the stimpack. The gangster agreed, but threatened to knife Par if he did anything, and when Par actually followed through on the bargain, making the pistol work good as new, the gangster was amazed enough to offer to guard Par for all of his time in the lower city. After that, the boy went to the Old Mormon Fort and the Followers of the Apocalypse, where, after some reluctance from the latter, he was allowed to do more work for them, as well as pursue their archives for more knowledge.

When the chance came to get back in the Crimson Caravan's good graces a year later, Par took it with open arms. This chance was rescuing a caravan stranded outside an old Vault, Vault 91, whose experiment was that its inhabitants each had some phobia or another, some of which were inherited. Over time, when Vault 91 opened, its people were half-ready to get outside and out of the tight and cramped spaces of the complex, while the other half were afraid of the things outside. Both sides were in civil war with each other, and had taken the Crimson Caravan's convoy prisoner just for passing through. And so, Par saw his chance.

Successfully talking both sides in the civil war through their differences, the boy, just a few weeks shy of 18, managed to not only secure the release of the caravaneers, but also Vault 91 and any settlements span off from it as a trading partner, winning immense profit from the Crimson Caravan Company, and regaining their trust. He also got, as his greatest gift from Vault 91, a solar-electric powered car. Yes, a bonafide car that can carry a small amount of goods, had a security system that prevented others from using it, and, after some jury-rigging, even a couple of sentry guns each to its hood and rear to fire at any intruders, making it a Technical.

And so, a year or two on after that, life was good...

Weapon choice: Sniper Rifle, Carbine, Pistol, Knife.

Perks (Add only three):

-Confirmed Bachelor
-Lady Killer
-Intense Training

'Tagged' Skills (the skills you are strongest in; add only three unless you take a 'Weak' Skill, see below):

-Speech
-Science
-Repair
-Guns

All other skills are assumed to be average unless you want to take a 'Weak Skill'.

'Weak' Skills (the skills you are weakest in, add only if you want more 'Tagged' Skills):

-Unarmed

Any other info not included in the above:

Name: Carmen Durant

Age: 24

Looks:
(And now, for something completely different.) There is a reason why the elders used to call Carmen 'Miss Horrigan', though she never really did get the reference. While at first glance the brown skinned woman is a 6ft4 monster of a woman capable of snapping the neck of a man between her biceps, those who know her would shrivel with fear at the thought of Carmen actually focusing entirely on her muscle mass as indeed, the sole thing that keeps her distinctively female it seems is her habit of not counting calories in the slightest, her love for meat allowing her to maintain the curves giving her that bit of femininity she has. Otherwise, while she can cleanup rather nicely due to her Enclave education, it doesn't mean she likes to do so and is often seen with unkept hairs and nails more akin to claws than anything.

Personality:
There is more to this woman than a one dimensional knuckle head as while she indeed is one to take what she wants and seek a fight when she can, it is justified to her from a social Darwinist stand point. She is visibly much better equipped than others around her to win by a fight so why should she seek to do things any other way, giving an advantage to those against her? Because that's how it is, competition, the struggle of life and the survival of the fittest. But still, no man or woman is an island and she realizes that she must sometimes sleep, even the walking apocalypse needs to rest once in a while! And thus comes her liking of honor and trust, the extreme value she places on both of these as she highly suspects that it is as likely that she'll die biting more than she could chew or alternatively, betrayed, killed in her sleep or by poison. Thus she has only one word and considers this the most worthy insurance possible as if she lives by it, maybe others will have the decency to do the same.

Faction: Group Epsilon (Neutral)

S.P.E.C.I.A.L
Strength: 10
Perception: 9
Endurance: 10
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 6
Agility: 3
Luck: 2

Backstory:
In the history books of the NCR, the defeat of the enclave was sudden, brutal and total. Wiped out in a day almost, the Californians then sweeping the remnants away. The truth is far from this however. Already some are aware of the long exodus eastward that took place but even this is romantic. Some were quite simply left behind, without orders or transportation. A lot decided to go undercover but the Epsilon Forward Outpost found the idea to try and hide among a bunch of impure dirt farmers while they sat on a trove of prewar tech to be something to scoff at. All of this however didn't help their crippling lack of manpower however and it was certain that they would be crushed under the sheer size of the NCR, sooner or later.

And so, they marched Eastward. Not to reach the coast like the others however, no, just to find somewhere secluded, using the old maps to reach a chain of bunkers to leach from. It wasn't long however until the matter of the natives became an issue. Some advocated genocide as was the enclave habit but there was realization that what they lacked in automation, production facilities and the likes, could be mitigated by using THEM as automatons. Slave labor.

This lasted almost 40 years during which these soldiers had children and slowly grew complacent. Their technologies were godlike to the savages who toiled the land and this is what saw the birth of Carmen. A fighter born of a long line of soldiers. It was how she was raised, in the savage lands of the tribes in a complete Enclave fashion. She was better than these subhumans and slavery was showing them mercy, allowing them the protection and carefree life of subjugation. All of that combat training and deathclaw hunting experience however couldn't have prepared her for what was to come.

The Epsilon Outpost had always looked toward the West, at the progress the NCR made. When the legion came, the surviving elders rolled their eyes and merely entered their power armor, ready to crush them mercilessly in a pitched battle. But it was they who were overwhelmed by numbers in a battle that could have been easily avoidable if they had only not so grossly underestimated their enemy. At home the slaves saw Caesar as a liberator and they rebelled against their overlords. Those that could fled, by foot or by vertibirds, away from the Legion. When the dust settled, only a few were left. Even if they should settle again, their genepool was so small they'd have died out but only more slowly. Some left to the east, hoping to reach the coast within their life time. Others decided to try and go underground in the NCR who was entering the Mojave.

Carmen and a fistful of others however couldn't stomach that. They entered banditry, becoming raider kings in power armor for a short while. But now the chickens are coming home to roost. The BoS is sending expeditions after them to capture their tech, the NCR is well established in the Mojave so even rangers are showing up to pick them off one by one. The possible replacement to them would be the Legion of course, but as a woman and a 'civilized person', she'd rather die than try and somehow join them. She and her group desperately try to find a way to keep on surviving, somehow.

Weapon choice:
-Power Fist
-Plasma Caster

Perks (Add only three):
+Sneering Imperialist
+Unstoppable Force
+Slayer

'Tagged' Skills
+Unarmed
+Energy Weapons
+Repair
+Science

'Weak' Skills
-Sneak

Any other info not included in the above:
So yeah, Group Epsilon. I'm thinking of having them become power armored muscle for either the Cabal or Mister House, with a preference for the later. Basically a group in desperate need of a powerful patron who could provide them for a way out to survive as Enclave remnants aren't too popular right now.

ALSO: Call out for some legion peeps to maybe have beef with her and her group, an ex-slave maybe? That or a tribe that suffered at their hands, to get some fun hate and rivalry going.

Name= Alan Anderson

Age= 35

Looks (picture optional)= Alan Anderson is a black-haired, blue-eyed, and square-jawed man with a tall, commanding presence, and a facial set and nose that make him look regal. His build is well-muscled, not to the extent of a bodybuilder, but closer to that of a soldier, one with a lot of experience. Outside of battle, he prefers a black-and-white business suit, and in war, his face is obscured by his Enclave Hellfire Power Armor*, which in turn is immaculately clean, as well as painted in bright purple colors.

*fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Enclave_Hellfir..

Personality= Alan Anderson is a cynic who would say what he wants, and do whatever it takes, to gain two things: Power and Pleasure. Over the years, he had learned that stuff such as 'good and evil', 'pure and abomination', are just labels, labels made by men to hold power over others. And he wants that power, without the blindness of a 'True Believer'. How did he come to the realization in the first place? Because he saw how people acted, saw how people felt, and he also saw how 'True Belief' led the Enclave to fail in Chicago...something he doesn't plan to happen to him.

For you see, Alan Anderson knows this, that the only truth is power and pleasure, and one leads to the other. And so, using the Enclave's resources, he will lead his faction to victory...but on his terms.

Faction= Enclave
S.P.E.C.I.A.L= (45 Points spread wisely. Cannot go over 10 on any one stat)
Strength- 8
Perception- 6
Endurance- 10
Charisma- 6
Intelligence- 6
Agility- 4
Luck- 5

Backstory= Alan Anderson was born in a Secret Enclave Facility in Chicago, as part of a 'breeding program' between high-level Enclave personnel. Born with a sense of privilege and entitlement, Alan used his power to get what he wanted, when he wanted, which was usually now. While a believer in the party line at the start, said belief faded when he was finally punished for extorting sex from other people in his 'class', both men and women.

Even then, however, his father and mother kept him from being killed or exiled; there was also the fact that 'pure-blooded' humans are too precious to just kill, and he did get some people pregnant with more 'pure humans'. Nevertheless, this move soured Alan to the Enclave's Ideology, and from then on, he vowed that he would only believe in two things: Power, and Pleasure.

Fighting in many battles against the 'impure' people of the Wasteland, Alan's great strength and endurance slowly elevated him into a high position in the Enclave's Department of the Army, eventually landing him the prestigious (and profitable) mission of taking over the Mojave for the Enclave...by any means necessary.

Though of only average and above-average Intelligence and Charisma, Alan has gathered a group of cronies and toadies dedicated to the same things as him; building up a power base so that he can indulge in any act he wanted.

Weapon choice= Enclave Hellfire Power Armor (Painted Bright Purple), Power Fists, Flamethrower, Plasma Rifle, Laser Pistol.

Perks (Add only three):

-Confirmed Bachelor
-Lady Killer
-Toughness

'Tagged' Skills (the skills you are strongest in; add only three unless you add a 'Weak Skill', see below):

- Energy Weapons
- Melee Weapons
- Unarmed

All other skills are assumed to be average unless you want to take a 'Weak Skill'.

'Weak' Skills (the skills you are weakest in, add only if you want more 'Tagged' Skills):

Any other info not included in the above= Is a flaming homosexual bisexual man and hated by his own people because he won't make them more troops by having kids; except on those few times he has sex with women.

The New Enclave's main base is...hidden.

The New Enclave have nothing to do with the Enclave Remnants.

Name: James Conrad
Age: 32
Looks:

Personality: Cold and Calculated is what James believes himself to be, but if you spoke to anyone he knows they’d call him Passionate,Powerful and ambitious. These all describe James to most he may seem normal and friendly. James has no empathy for anyone he has one goal:Power. Using the most of the situation he’s in

Faction: Enclave
S.P.E.C.I.A.L= (45 Points spread wisely. Cannot go over 10 on any one stat)
Strength: 2
Perception: 10
Endurance: 2
Charisma:10
Intelligence:10
Agility:1
Luck:10

Backstory:
Born into the enclave base in Chicago, his parents served in the civilian branch. His mother in the science and engineering department creating new ways to purify the wasteland. His father a politician. James never really had a choice in his studies, he was expected to do well and he did however he was often picked on by those who came from a military family.Though he could never compete with them in physical activities he used his intellect to have them fight each other. Whenever someone was smart enough not to fall for it James somehow got lucky either the man would miss or hit someone near them. James never felt fear, or anything.

As James grew up he became a passionate leader starting from a low level politician many people he knew liked him yet he cared for no one. He had always felt off but he could never confirm it until his parents were murdered by Brotherhood Terrorists. When they had died and people gather for a funeral many cried and came to offer solace to James yet he didn’t need it. He had used his parents to rise and now that they were gone he had little and had to move on for himself.

Eventually as time went on, the struggle for the enclave grew, with the brotherhood growing stronger and the enclave refusing to change people began to look for new leadership. A man by the name of Alan Anderson a very trusted military command had begun to form a small cult following mostly of brutes. While James believed the enclave needed to adapt if not for it’s own benefits then for his. James soon got in contact with alan and had agreed to work with him to change the enclave. Soon a bond formed James gave speeches rallied many to alan cause. In return Alan protected James and offered him a spot for when he took command. Not long after though the Brotherhood Terrorists attacked in full force the enclave unprepared and weakened fell. Alan lead his followers west, while the brutes may not have liked James for his weakness and the need for help to continue they respected alan and he saw James as useful and kept him close but now in the west they begin to plan their next move.

Weapon choice: Using other people, should that not be an option has a 9mm pistol

Perks (Add only three):
Computer Whiz
Educated
Cult of Personality

'Tagged' Skills (the skills you are strongest in; add only three unless you add a 'Weak Skill', see below):
Speech
Science
Barter

'Weak' Skills (the skills you are weakest in, add only if you want more 'Tagged' Skills):
None

Any other info not included in the above:

Post the CS in OOC and once accepted then you can move it to the Characters Tab.

"Stumble in the dark, and hope that you do not catch my notice."

Name: Unknown

Alias: The Muted Man

Age: Unknown, although NCR intelligence believes his age to be between 35-50.

Looks: No one has seen his face, although he has been seen in a black longcoat and a fully covered raider helmet. It is believed that he is in possession of a prototype suit of X-01 power Armour. It is also believed that he roams New Vegas in regular gambler clothing.

Personality: He is usually willing to let the people under him go about their lives in peace, but if anyone attempts to threaten him or Mr House, he is absolutely without mercy. He has planned multiple terrorist attacks against legion and NCR targets and has had multiple high ranking officers of both sides assassinated if they ever get too close to him. It has got to the point where the NCR intelligence service has put a bounty of half a million caps on his head, with a bonus of two hundred thousand if brought in alive. Very few hunters even think about hunting him, and those that do are given gruesome deaths to discourage others. A common rumor in the Mojave is that when the muted man speaks, people are going to die. He does not believe in risking himself, and if forced into a fight, will use the most powerful weaponry and Armour that he has at his disposal.

Faction: Mr House

S.P.E.C.I.A.L=
Strength: ?
Perception: ?
Endurance: ?
Charisma: ?
Intelligence: ?
Agility: ?
Luck: ?

Backstory: No one, save possibly Mr House himself know where the muted man came from, only that he changed the order of New Vegas almost overnight. A meeting was called with the members of the families. He, speaking from a securitron, made it clear that Mr House was in full control of Vegas and would not take any insubordination lightly. The head of the Omertas was found dead a week later, and his...weaker second in command was given control. Since then, the families were completely compliant, until Benny's little adventure. Everyone, NCR, legion, or even those who seek independence know that taking Vegas would be almost impossible with the muted man alive. The NCR has entertained notions of this, ranging from bounty hunters to a full scale military assault on the lucky 38.

Weapon choice: The only weapon it is believed he carries, is a .45 pistol. With his armor, it is likely that he uses heavier weapons.

Perks: Unknown

'Tagged' Skills: Unknown

'Weak' Skills: Unknown

Ashleigh Ackerson

Name: Maxwell "long shot" Rose (approved over pm)
Age: 23
Height: 5' 2"
Weight: 180
Looks:
Personality:although the name may state some form of higher class Maxwell is far from it. Born to the hostile wasteland this young mercenary is well acquainted to what it takes to stay alive. At a chaotic neutral stand point of the world Maxwell has a quick trigger finger. No matter who you are this hot head can and will pull a gun on you.
Faction:N/A
S.P.E.C.I.A.L= (45 Points spread wisely. Cannot go over 10 on any one stat)
Strength:5
Perception:10
Endurance:7
Charisma:5
Intelligence:10
Agility:4
Luck:4

Backstory:when Maxwell was only about 4 years old, bairly old enough to fully walk and talk, a group of raiders came and ran sacked his village. His parents hid him away but it did not stop him from seeing. All the villagers screamed in terror as they we're slaughtered and than the raiders entered his home. His father was killed on sight to prevent him from stopping them while the gang up on his mother taking turns before they killed her. Trying to hold his tears he hid himself while the raiders took everything and left. From this point on he was alone. Luckily for him the raiders we're only after money and not food. The young boy collected all the food and everything he had left and started to raise himself, training day and night, to protect himself.

Has the boy got older he felt safer with leaving his little town. Without eating human meat he really had no choice but to leave and find supplies. Maxwell, one day, came across a shack that appeared to be empty. He began taking everything he saw, especially food and weaponry. That's when he saw it, the one thing that would change his life forever. There in the corner of the shack was a large gun with a scope on it. He wasn't sure what it did but it appeared to be a gun went for long range attacks. He took this weapon and brought it back to his home. Teaching himself to use it it became evident that he would now be able to protect himself efficiently.

Maxwell, now a young man, travels the wastes with no trouble protecting himself. Haunted by his past, killing has become the only thing he knows. He now works as a hired mercenary. Killing and stealing in exchange for caps. Though his prices are not cheap people know his business is worth it.

Weapon choice: DKS-501, .44 revolver.

Perks (Add only three): rapid reload. Finesse. Sniper.

'Tagged' Skills: guns. Sneak. Speech

Any other info not included in the above: Maxwell may not know much about himself but he knows what he likes. In the world of today he would be refered to as pansexual. His Nick name 'Longshot' was created by a legend spoken about him. Tall tales told of a man with enough skill to kill you before you ever even knew he was there.