Gave it a shot, let me know what needs changing.
Name: Evan Kontos
Age: 27
Rank: Guerrilla fighter// FIA Cell member
Appearance: Evan is your typical picturesque freedom fighter. Olive tanned skin, black bushy beard and long curly hair wrapped with a green bandana. Like most of his fellows, when in combat he wears a motley arrangement of military attire. Usually, due to the climate, he boasts a green drab tank top, and tiger camo trousers. His piercing brown eyes are fiery, at all times, as if he is constantly irritated.
Weapons: A battered FN F2000, painted in zigzagging stripes of greens and browns. It is wrapped in places with hessian, where parts of the weapon are showing an unhealthy amount of wear and tear. However, at current, it remains operational. To a keen eyed observer, there are slightly visible tallies etched into the stock.
Sig Sauer P228, gleaming silver in places where it has become chipped through heavy use.
History: Evan Kontos was once your average late teenager. Drinking himself stupid by night, and working by day, his life was an incessant circle of toil and relief. He was known for his many sexual conquests, from as young as 14, but whilst he was a champion of Altis’ social life, he was academically flawed. If it were not for his father’s brick laying company, it’s quite possible work may never have found him.
It wasn’t that he was a lazy or incompetent worker, but he lacked enthusiasm. He never committed to his work 100%, only ever doing what needed to be done, but never going further. His father was pained by this, because as the only son of the household, Evan would be the company’s future owner. Many nights were wasted as Evan and his father battled it out over the dinner table about his options in life, his lack of achievement and disrespect for moral conduct. Yes, he was your average late teenager.
On his 20th birthday, the revolutionaries were taking to the streets. Though his family had survived the worst of the crushing economic crisis, many were not so lucky. Their pain, their hunger and sense of helplessness drove them to take up arms against the government. Evan’s family didn’t survive the worst of Altis’ civil strife.
Late at night, five years ago, a convoy of AAF troops poured into his village, Kora, and began shooting at the inhabitants. Evan’s father ushered his family into their cellar, in hopes of avoiding the chaos above, but God did not spare them from man’s inhumanity. They were happened upon by passing troops, who ushered them outside. They shot Evan’s father immediately, for suspected ‘terror activities’. Then they blasted Evan in the chest at point blank range, collapsing his lung and fragmenting his shoulder blade.
As he lay screaming in the mud, trying to draw himself away from the pain, he saw his mother and younger sister begging as they were mercilessly raped over and over. He was powerless to stop it, and eventually he passed out from loss of blood. Upon waking, he found his mother and sister dead not far away, with their hands bound and kneeling forwards – executed. These images were burned into his mind, and haunt him to this very day.
With no family, a lethal wound and no care left for worldy things, Evan was picked up by a 4x4 as it passed through the village. It contained FIA fighters, who were scouring for survivors of the raid. They took him back to their base, where he fought for his life against his injuries, with the assistance of a Red Cross physician in some darkened basement. He lived, but he was only a shell from the moment the AAF slaughtered his family.
Revenge burning deeply in his heart, Evan joined the FIA with zealous rage. Whether it was a military complex, a checkpoint or an administration building, he was there. Firing into the bodies of surrendered soldiers, chucking grenades in tightly packed mess halls and stabbing a wounded man in the face – he did it all. Before long his fellow FIA comrades came to fear him, and his unstable nature, but with a losing war on their hands they decided to let it slide. With them he remains to this day, a soulless, injured man with no purpose other than revenge; he is the very spirit of the failed revolution, and he will not stop until the AAF finally put him down.
Skills: Good at moving unseen, and unheard. Knows how to take a man from behind with a knife, and has experience with a whole range of improvised explosives.
Equipment: Binoculars, combat knife, two M-26 grenades.
Name: Evan Kontos
Age: 27
Rank: Guerrilla fighter// FIA Cell member
Appearance: Evan is your typical picturesque freedom fighter. Olive tanned skin, black bushy beard and long curly hair wrapped with a green bandana. Like most of his fellows, when in combat he wears a motley arrangement of military attire. Usually, due to the climate, he boasts a green drab tank top, and tiger camo trousers. His piercing brown eyes are fiery, at all times, as if he is constantly irritated.
Weapons: A battered FN F2000, painted in zigzagging stripes of greens and browns. It is wrapped in places with hessian, where parts of the weapon are showing an unhealthy amount of wear and tear. However, at current, it remains operational. To a keen eyed observer, there are slightly visible tallies etched into the stock.
Sig Sauer P228, gleaming silver in places where it has become chipped through heavy use.
History: Evan Kontos was once your average late teenager. Drinking himself stupid by night, and working by day, his life was an incessant circle of toil and relief. He was known for his many sexual conquests, from as young as 14, but whilst he was a champion of Altis’ social life, he was academically flawed. If it were not for his father’s brick laying company, it’s quite possible work may never have found him.
It wasn’t that he was a lazy or incompetent worker, but he lacked enthusiasm. He never committed to his work 100%, only ever doing what needed to be done, but never going further. His father was pained by this, because as the only son of the household, Evan would be the company’s future owner. Many nights were wasted as Evan and his father battled it out over the dinner table about his options in life, his lack of achievement and disrespect for moral conduct. Yes, he was your average late teenager.
On his 20th birthday, the revolutionaries were taking to the streets. Though his family had survived the worst of the crushing economic crisis, many were not so lucky. Their pain, their hunger and sense of helplessness drove them to take up arms against the government. Evan’s family didn’t survive the worst of Altis’ civil strife.
Late at night, five years ago, a convoy of AAF troops poured into his village, Kora, and began shooting at the inhabitants. Evan’s father ushered his family into their cellar, in hopes of avoiding the chaos above, but God did not spare them from man’s inhumanity. They were happened upon by passing troops, who ushered them outside. They shot Evan’s father immediately, for suspected ‘terror activities’. Then they blasted Evan in the chest at point blank range, collapsing his lung and fragmenting his shoulder blade.
As he lay screaming in the mud, trying to draw himself away from the pain, he saw his mother and younger sister begging as they were mercilessly raped over and over. He was powerless to stop it, and eventually he passed out from loss of blood. Upon waking, he found his mother and sister dead not far away, with their hands bound and kneeling forwards – executed. These images were burned into his mind, and haunt him to this very day.
With no family, a lethal wound and no care left for worldy things, Evan was picked up by a 4x4 as it passed through the village. It contained FIA fighters, who were scouring for survivors of the raid. They took him back to their base, where he fought for his life against his injuries, with the assistance of a Red Cross physician in some darkened basement. He lived, but he was only a shell from the moment the AAF slaughtered his family.
Revenge burning deeply in his heart, Evan joined the FIA with zealous rage. Whether it was a military complex, a checkpoint or an administration building, he was there. Firing into the bodies of surrendered soldiers, chucking grenades in tightly packed mess halls and stabbing a wounded man in the face – he did it all. Before long his fellow FIA comrades came to fear him, and his unstable nature, but with a losing war on their hands they decided to let it slide. With them he remains to this day, a soulless, injured man with no purpose other than revenge; he is the very spirit of the failed revolution, and he will not stop until the AAF finally put him down.
Skills: Good at moving unseen, and unheard. Knows how to take a man from behind with a knife, and has experience with a whole range of improvised explosives.
Equipment: Binoculars, combat knife, two M-26 grenades.
