Name: Obadiah
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Occupation: Wanderer
Sexuality: Does it matter?
Nationality: Tribal-American
Race: Human
Karma: Neutral
Faction Allegiance: Tribal
Appearance:
Obadiah is an imposing tribal, standing at 6'2", with a toned, muscular body. Her skin is the deep tan typical of tribals. Her clothing is a heavy leather armor, festooned with tribal fetishes and talismans. Her hair is cut short and tied back. It has a ruddy, earthy color.
Skills: Stealth, Survival, Melee, Unarmed
Brief History: Obadiah was born of her tribe, self-called the Mal'okai, but referred to by outsiders as 'The Cutskin' due to their ritual scarification. The Cutskin were a warrior people, which heavily emphasized the hunting of great beasts, and were highly nomadic, wandering about the lands north of the Capital Wasteland. This led them to be at odds with most of their neighboring peoples. As it often happens to tribals, the Cutskin found themselves targeted by slavers and raiders. Despite their war-like tendencies, and violent response, the Cutskin were worn down by constant attrition. Finally, there were barely enough to call themselves a tribe, and the Cutskin survivors fled.

Obadiah was one such survivor, having only recently having been inducted as a full status warrior of the tribe. She escaped the slaughter and enslavement of her people, along with a small band of other refugees, to the south, where they settled in with the various settlements of the Capital Wasteland. The defeat and destruction of her tribe, however, hung on Obadiah's mind, and she refused to settle, instead striking out once more to the wasteland, where she might prove herself a warrior and regain the honor of the Cutskin.

Extra: Obadiah's Warclub - A custom war-club, traditional of the Cutskin in line with their war-like nature. This one is unique to her, and is a heavy, powerful weapon, enhanced with the teeth of a yao-gui on the head, to both pierce and pulverize. This weapon was crafted over months as Obadiah was initiated as a hunter and warrior, culminating in the slaying of a great beast and festooning it with the beast's remains. It never leaves her side.

Name: Winston
Age: 49
Gender: Male
Occupation: Engineer/Inventor/Demolitionist/Arms Dealer
Sexuality: Straight
Nationality: Wastelander
Race: Human, Robotic Right Arm
Karma: Neutral
Faction Allegiance: Who ever pays the most
Appearance:

Skills: Explosives/Repair/Science/Charisma
Brief History:
Winston grew up in a workshop. His father did what he could selling weapons, scrap, organs, anything to feed his son. Winston’s mother died giving birth, leaving just his father to raise the newborn. Winston learned a lot watching his father disassemble whatever he could get his hands on. They bonded over learning what every intricate piece did. Eventually, when Winston was about 17, he and his father were building a bomb for a local militia. They didn't ask what they intended to use it for, only how much carnage were they trying to inflict. While working on the bomb alone, Winston made a mistake, causing the project to blow, costing Winston his right arm. His father did his best to heal his wounds. But the man was a mechanic, not a doctor. After cleaning and closing the massive wound, he began building his son a new arm. Every job after that was either to get parts for the arm, or trade bait for parts. Winston’s father continued work on the arm until his death years later. Decades have passed since then and Winston himself has become a well known underground market supplier. The arm his father started, has undergone many transitions from ineffective prototype to its current state now. His arm is his tool belt, with built in screwdrivers, hammers, blowtorch, and many more upgrades.
Though he sells some of the best and deadliest weapons to some of the most vicious factions, Winston himself is non-violent. He does not have many enemies, as most would rather employ him than kill him. He cares little for using violence himself, in all his years of shady underground deals, only twice has it ever erupted into violence. He is not a good shot, and lacks the physical prowess to be a melee warrior, his skill lies in his mind and his silver tongue. The years of dealing with thieves, killers, and cops, he's really lost all interest in building relationships, as he’s learned most will just turn on you for a quick profit.

Name:Knight Connor Lancet
Age: 27
Gender:Male
Occupation:Brotherhood of Steel Knight East Coast chapter.
Sexuality:Heterosexual
Nationality:American
Race:Human
Karma:Good
Faction Allegiance:The Brotherhood of Steel
Appearance:
Skills*:Energy weapons, big guns, melee weapons, repair
Brief History:Connor was only three when they left the west coast bunker behind, instead they went east. Hoping against all odds to make contact with the midwestern chapter, when that failed they continued further east until they came upon the ruins of Washington D.C. At this point the boy was a squire learning how to fight so he didn't get to see much of the action of pushing away the super mutants or the taking of the citadel, it was during this time that his parents got sick and passed.

For the next few years that fortress was his home and prison, he never saw outside it's walls until his promotion to aspirant came and he was sent out into the wasteland with a paladin named Rachel Lachance and her team. They became his second family, underneath them he fought with super mutants, raiders, and talon company mercs. With them the boy became a man, and finally was promoted to knight. Given a shiny new suit of power armor he became one of theirs. Two years after his promotion to knight, they unknowingly walked into an ambush. Super mutants streamed out of the ruins. Hitting them with rocket launchers, and miniguns. The squad fought as best as they could, but quickly found themselves out of ammo, and reinforcements still a ways out. They still stuck to their orders and held their ground using the super mutants weapons against them, during this skirmish the boy was struck unconscious when he got into hand to hand combat with a super mutant master.

When he came to, reinforcements had arrived to late. He was the only one left of his squad, when they found him alive they took him back to the citadel. It's been months now, and he hasn't left the citadel and they won't tell him when he's going back out, so once again he feels imprisoned. Contemplating the idea of escape.

<EXCITED BEEPING>