Horror in Paradise character sheets

[Captain Ahab]

Name: Cyrus White
Age: 57
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Personality: Cyrus is a fairly cold man who is extremely devout in his faith, he will take into his heart any sinner willing to repent, but he has no qualms with ridding the world of the creatures he deems ungodly.
Biography: Cyrus was born to a a very religious family that raised him as a Christian from birth, by the time Cyrus was a teenager he could quote obscure scripture off the top of his head, once Cyrus turned 18 he joined the army, war hardened Cyrus into a man, but after many years of service he was honorably discharged, he started a family soon after with a woman he had known since he was a young boy, they had two boys and one girl, all seemed well for Cyrus. One evening while Cyrus was out buying supplies from town, his family was attacked by a group of unknown creatures that left nothing but corpses of what used to be Cyrus' family. Since that day Cyrus had dedicated himself to the eradication of all unholy beings, he started a church in the town of Paradise and has served as town preacher ever since.
Equipment: 2x Colt Navy Model 1851
Damascus 10 Gauge Shotgun
Holy water flask
Holy bible
Abilities/Disadvantages: Cyrus is extremely adept with close range fighting, through years of training his ability to reload his guns quickly is very impressive. Cyrus' eyesight isn't what it used to be, so his long-range abilities are lacking.

[DR_TRAPEZOID]

Name:
Butch Haroldson

Age:
32

Race:
Human

Appearance:
Around 6'2", he is a Caucasian male. Though he weighs quite a bit for his height, most of the weight is muscle, and it shows. His thick muscled build allows him to tower over most others, with scarred skin and broad shoulders. His face is very angular, with chiseled features. His nose is misshaped from many beatings, and he has a distinct scar reaching across his left cheek. Save for the boxed beard, his head lacks any hair. His pale gray eyes are sunken deeply beneath his wrinkled skin. He wears a simple button up shirt, with the sleeves ripped off. His simple brown pants are held up by simple blue suspenders, complimenting the blue bow tie he wears loosely around his neck.

Gender:
Male, last he checked.

Personality:
Though he isn't the brightest, he is good willed. He is fond of breaking things, especially people. He is protective of those he is close to, and would have very little problem with sacrificing his life to save that of a friend, which he makes rather quickly. He has a certain hatred for Succubi, but he wont hesitate to put his axe in any other ugly creature unfortunate enough to catch his eye.

Biography:
Raised in a working family with two younger brothers, Butch ended up with a plateful of responsibility. Between the farmwork, watching over his brothers and mum, he had no time for schooling, so stayed at home with his father, to put his brothers through school. Though some might've been insulted, or felt betrayed to be left behind like that, he considered it a blessing. His father hadn't had any schooling either, and Butch looked up to his father like a god. He also believed that his brothers deserved it- they were both extremely gifted when it came to education.

It wasn't long before the children grew up, and left to pursue a life all on their own. All but Butch, that is. His mum had quite the cold, and had been bedridden for years. The doctors said that she might not ever leave that bed, so Butch stayed to help keep the old stone rolling with his father. He didn't understand much of what the doctors said when they came, which they did often, but he knew that it wasn't good. When his mum died, he was almost as devastated as his father, who attempted to fill the void in his life with alcohol, which ended up rubbing off on Butch, who became a regular drinker.

Soon enough, pa came home every night with some new nice smelling lady, and woke up in the morning much poorer. Butch didn't understand that much, either. But, one night, the lady his father came home with was different. The next thing Butch knew, he was with the preacher, who was saying something about a Succubus taking away his father, and that they wouldn't see each other ever again. It was then that Butch's attitude got a bit ugly. He got thrown around from town to town for awhile, hunting and killing those unsavory creatures, without really caring if there was a difference between werewolves, vampires, and succubi. When he saw that Paradise had quite the infestation, he went as fast as he could, considering it a smorgasbord of murder.

Equipment:
His trusty axe, which he takes with him everywhere. It has been at Butch's side for more years than he can count, and has cut down a bit more than trees. He also carries with him a two shot derringer, just for emergencies. His most trusty weapon is a silver spoon, one he has had from childhood. When he comes across succubi, he has a reputation of carving their eyes out with the spoon, and putting them in a pouch he carries around with him. He always keeps them alive for the ritual. He carries a few other odds and ends with him, nothing too out of the ordinary.

Abilities/Disadvantages:
He is insanely strong. He takes massive pride in this strength, which is well earned. His strength is almost inhuman, and he considers it to be a better weapon than any gun. With this strength comes a certain tolerance for pain. He was once stabbed twice in the stomach, and simply continued fighting for about twenty minutes. He is extremely skilled at fighting with his axe. However, he is not very bright at all, and has trouble thinking for himself, relying on others to order him around. His will is easily swayed, and his temper is short. He often charges in without thinking anything through first.

[littlefoot]

Name: Eliza Hays
Age: 23
Race: Caucasian (Human?)
Appearance:
Gender: female
Personality: Eliza is a trouble maker. Always looking for a fight, she can be just as crass and mean and downright dirty as the boys, but around Cyrus (and plenty of other members of the small town) she's sweet as a pie. She likes to get her way; try to boss her around and you'll regret it. Always has a nasty trick up her sleeve.
Biography: One morning when Eliza was 7, she woke up with a black eye and a few bruised ribs. It wasn't the first time this had happened; she liked to talk back, and her daddy liked her to shut up and do what he said. Eliza didn't think he was very smart, and she was right. That morning, she rolled put of bed, marched into the kitchen, kicked her abusive father (who was passed out drunk on the floor) in the shins and skipped out the door. She hopped onto a passing caravan, scraped her knee and hopped off in Paradise, where Cyrus took her in and raised her in his church.
At the age of 23, Eliza is now a fiesty little marksman who likes to wear trousers under her skirts, and pistols under her trousers. Raised in a house of God, she can recite every hymn and proverb you throw at her, but the ten commandments are not her forte. She's rumoured to have shot a man's private bits clean off, and the spinsters swear they saw her kissing Charlotte Newman last summer. Cyrus taught her everything she knows about guns and what to shoot them at, and she's become quite the monster hunter in the past few years.
Equipment:
Winchester 1866 Yellow Boy
2x M1873 calvary pistol
Remington 1888 Double Derringer
Abilities/Disadvantages: Surpassing Cyrus in marksmanship (most likely due to her superior eyesight), she is most adept at long-range fighting, but she's not all that bad at shooting anything that moves, no matter how far away. She is fast and her reflexes are quick, but she's weak and light as a feather. This can be an advantage in some situations, but she's absolutely useless at any type of melee or hand-to-hand combat.

[Soundbyte]

Name: Niiu (knee-you)

Age: 19

Race: Human (bearing a witch's curse)

Appearance: (5'8")

Gender: Female

Personality: Niiu is shy and reclusive due to her curse. She disdains her image, the red pattern across her skin and the scar through her eye, she hates it all. The poor lass tries not to associate herself with too many people, for she fears judgement and scorn. She takes time to trust people, and only will if they've proven themselves. Although she is distant and almost completely anti-social, she can defend herself when put into a dangerous situation. She tries to keep her mind pure, but gruesome thoughts and ideas appear in her mind accompanied by imagery; an unfortunate part of her curse. When she can't take anymore, she goes into an emotionally comatose state, feeling very little if at any emotion.

Biography: For as long as she could remember, she has lived in Paradise. As a youngling, she was naive and careless, luckily her parents were rather protective, so she never really got any more hurt than the childhood scrapes and bruises. Although she was young, her father encouraged her to go into the business of blacksmiths, and it took her years before she realized the meaning of this. Her father wanted her to be able to create weapons to use when she was older....As she entered her teenage years, the stories reached her ears, and they shocked her. In their little town? There was no way in her mind that she could believe such things. There just wasn't enough evidence to support those people's claims. So, being rebellious, she would take walks through the forest, mostly at its edge.

Her parents never caught wind of it, so she was free to continue her 'dangerous' exploration. Every day, she'd go a little further, stay a little longer. Her luck soon took a sharp turn for the worst and ran out. She could hear women's voices, and assumed it was just an ill-minded joke. The calming silence of the forest being broken by chanting and various fallen or dry plants being crushed underfoot. By now she'd become a bit edgy, but she was determined not to run from something she figured was a prank. So she stood her ground, although really she was simply too afraid to move. Women clad in dark clothing surrounded her, chanting and occasionally tossing a powder at her. The air Niiu breathed soon became too hot and stuffy, making her cough and gasp for breath, even though she was inhaling, all she could feel was heat. So much heat. It began to spread all throughout her left side, Just as she heard multiple gun shots and slicing noises, her vision failed and she collapsed unconscious on the forest floor.

She awoke in her home, later that day, only just recalling that it was her 16th birthday. She felt like stone, and could hardly move. However, she was on her side, mostly undressed, and gasped at what she saw as she looked down at herself. Red marred her skin, a pattern swirling down her entire left side, They looked like scabs and burned where the blanket and her clothing touched them. Her parents did their best to help hide it, but whatever they did only inflamed it or made it bleed, so eventually she just stopped going outside, too scared to face the world again. In her homely domain, she wore the bare minimum, so that the pain was reduced greatly, although she was looked down upon as some sort of harlot, disgusting for dressing in a way that exposed much of her skin, and for the marks that turned into scars by the next year.

Through that time, she noticed what it had truly done to her. It was an influence that made her want to do cruel things. It created voices in her head that told her to kill or to harm. It told her to steal and ruined her conscious. Several months after she had turned 18, her parents never returned from their short trip to the local shops for groceries, and Niiu, after starving for several days, had to once more face the world. She wore men's jeans, trimmed into shorts, mid calve boots, and a tank top, which was usually cut halfway to prevent more cloth than necessary to burn her skin. As she fended for herself, the town's condition only worsened, and she spent the next year of her life creating weapons that best suited her needs for revenge against whatever had killed her parents.

Equipment: Gun-knife x2 (one at each hip)
Sword x1 (4.5 feet long blade, strapped to her back in its leather covered scabbard)

Abilities/Disadvantages: She can wield a blade fairly, and hold her own against most, but her curse can weaken her physically, but mostly mentally, and it alters her judgment enough so at times that she cannot always tell who is the enemy and who is an aquaintance. Plus whenever her ammunition is used, she has to personally make more, to fit her custom gun-knife.

[SyrianHamster]

Buckle

Name: Buckle 'Broad Iron' Peterson

Age: 45

Race: Hum... Human?

Appearance: Tall and broad at the shoulders, with sunken brown eyes and a balding scalp of greying dregs. Wears tattered and well worn clothing, giving him the appearance of your average cow poke.

Gender: Male

Personality: World weary, indifferent and cold.

Biography: Buckle 'Broad Iron' Peterson occupies a dying trade. In his youth he was a gun-for-hire with a healthy chunk of local renown to his name. The jobs were plentiful and paid well, whether it was killing an escaped convict, or slaughtering said escaped convict's former companions, Buckle always delivered. He wasn't the quickest drawer in West, but he wasn't the slowest either, and his "I don't care if you shoot me, I'm still going to put a hole in your head" attitude more than once called the bluff of his bounties. However, as the years went by, the jobs became fewer and the rewards got smaller. He went from shooting criminals to watching over a bar's unruly patrons, or herding cattle for an ageing farmer.

For years he etched a miserable existence from performing mundane jobs, that were more about helping the weak than bringing down the strong, and for a while this suited him in a way. He enjoyed being able to make a difference in peoples' lives; he didn't mind if it meant shovelling sh*t for three days under the hot blazing sun. But time waits for no man, and as his crown started to shine light at him when he peered into a mirror, he realised that his life was slipping him by. He tried to imagine himself carrying on like this, until he was taken by a pox, a fever or plain old age. What his mind showed him was horrible, and he could not conform himself to it.

Milking cows one day for old Mr. Crotson down by Perbal Ranch, Buckle caught a rotten flap of newspaper blowing around in the wind. It seemed to him that the elements had done their worst to every part of that paper, except one small article that was titled: Trouble in Paradise? After reading what he could from the blurred text, Buckle threw down the bucket of milk he carried and ran on home to his shack way down on the prairie. Gathering his trusty Colt Model 1860 New Army, it's holster and his well-worn powder flask, he headed towards town intending on getting himself reacquainted with horse riding. Buckle didn't think much of the paranormal, but easy money was easy money, and he needed to bust his way into a comfortable retirement one way or the other.

Equipment: Colt Model 1860 New Army, Bullet making utensils (including powder flask, percussion caps and .44 balls.

Abilities/Disadvantages: He's a quick drawer with his weapon, and strong enough to shoulder his way through a solid wooden door, but he ain't as fit as he used to be. Running will tire him out quickly, and a lifetime of smoking tobacco has left him with a nasty cough. His weapon also needs to be preloaded before he fires, which involves a lengthy process of first filling the chambers with gunpowder, the .44 ball and a percussion cap before it can be fired.

[Skythikon]

Name: Merrick Sheridan

Age: 28

Race: Human - Australian

Appearance: Slender would be the word that would most easily describe Merrick. Tall and slim, the only indication that he was a man of the outdoors would be his heavily tanned skin and rough hands from spending long hours working or riding under the sun. He has shallow, dark brown eyes, thin lips and subdued facial features. His brown hair licks at his eyebrows and collar of his shirt, and he never lets it grown any longer than that.

He wears a modified US Army frock coat, the most distinct modification being that he had dyed the entire thing a soft shade of brown to blend in with the desert sands. Patches of cloth in other shades of brown are sewed onto parts of the coat to give it some form of rudimentary camouflage. A bandanna covering his nose and mouth prevents him from inhaling sand. He often wears a dark brown slouch hat.

Gender: Male

Personality: Awkward, quiet and introverted. It's when he drinks does he talk a lot, sometimes more than he should.

Biography: It is no exaggeration to say that Merrick was born for the wilderness. Born to a bushman and a barmaid in a small town in the outback, Merrick was trained by his father from a young age to live off the land. Given that they were within one of the Australian deserts, that was as well as teaching Merrick how to live off practically nothing. By the time he was eight, Merrick had learned how to identify and prepare plants that were safe to eat, as well as creating rudimentary traps to hunt small game. He fired his first rifle when he was ten and hunted his first big game not two months later. Considered a true bushman when he turned fifteen, Merrick went on to live the life of a hunter and forager, living in the wilderness for up to weeks at a time for the perfect shot to kill his targeted prey.

However, Merrick could not help but feel as if there was more to life than just barely eking out a life in the Australian bush. Thus, once he turned eighteen, he decided to take whatever money he had earned from selling meats and hides, along with a small amount gifted to him from his parents, to buy passage to America. Like plenty of immigrants, he had heard stories out how the American west was the place to be if you wanted to carve a life out for yourself and make it rich at the same time. It was going to involve plenty of hard work, but that was nothing Merrick was not used to. Additionally, he was going to make landfall in the thick on it - in California.

He went from job to job for a year after that before realizing that he needed a steady source of income. The United States Army, having been bogged down by decades of intermittent warfare with the Native Americans, were more than happy to welcome Merrick into their ranks. He was trained as a cavalryman, fighting with the rifle on horseback and with the sabre at close range. It started out as a wonderful experience, when he was just a scout rider making sure that the road ahead of the army was safe. It was when he actually entered combat when things started falling apart. He had no problems with killing armed men or women - as far as he was concerned, he was simply acting out of self-defense. It was the post-battle killings and occasional mutilations that bothered him. He detested the idea of bringing violence onto anyone who was not involved in the battle. It came to head when Merrick was present at Wounded Knee to witness the massacre. He saw armed Natives being gunned down and bayoneted, but what horrified him was the indiscriminate killing of civilians and the apparent lack of concern shown by the commanding officers. Even though he did not fire a single shot during the massacre, Merrick still felt intense guilt for doing nothing to stop it. Unable to reconcile the idea of a free and equal American with the massacre, Merrick deserted the army.

He traveled from town to town, not bothering to use a false name, rightly assuming that the US army had more important things to take care of than to hunt down one deserter out of hundreds. Still, Merrick made a point to avoid settlements that were firmly within federal control as well as tribal lands. The former because he was still worried that he would be apprehended as a deserter, and the latter for, well, even if he was not shot on sight, he could not bring himself to look in the eyes of another Native American without remembering his inaction at Wounded Knee. He had even discarded his army-issue rifle, not just because he disliked it in general, but because it reminded him too much of his past.

It did not take long for Merrick to stumble across Paradise, a town beyond the reach of federal agents and plagued by mysterious problems. Still riding on the hopes that he would one day perform enough good deeds to clear his conscience, he decided to stay and offer his services.

Equipment:

Weaponry
- Snider-Enfield Short Rifle, metal cartridge conversion
- 2 Colt Single Action Army revolvers
- US Cavalry Sabre
- Socket Bayonet for the Snider-Enfield
- Serrated hunting/skinning knife

Kit
- Cloth backpack
- Breadbag (Essentially a shapeless sling bag)
- Ammunition box + shoulder belt (US Army issue, insignia buffed out)
- Waistbelt + sheaths for knife, sabre and bayonet (US Army issue, insignia buffed out)

Abilities/Disadvantages:
+ Bushman: Trained in the Australian outback, Merrick is an expert when it comes to surviving on next to nothing.
+ Sleight of Hand: You'd think he was using a repeater, given how fast he reloads.
+ Ex-Dragoon: A sniper is deadly enough. A sniper on horseback? That's just unfair.
- Deserter: Safe to assume that the US army is not a fan of Merrick.
- Enemy of Natives: And neither are the Native Americans.
- Heavy drinker: Don't get him started.
- Glass cannon: He can deal the damage, but he can't take it back.

[Derpestein]

Name: Alexander Splinters
Age: 45
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Personality: Serious and stoic, Splinters cares only about two things: The law and the townspeople. Those who have known him say he's a kind soul. People who threatened the town don't think of him at all.
Because they're dead.
Bio: Born in Texas, in the southern regions of 'Merica, to a pair of loving parents. He had grown up to be a man who upheld justice and the law. In his mind anyway. For a few years, him and his faithful Winchester Model 1895 rifle became vigilantes and took down outlaws, bandits and other such lawbreakers one by one. He had helped Paradise with bandits, indians, outlaws and the like. At the age of twenty six, he became the Sheriff of the small town. It was his duty to protect the town from this new threat...
Equipment:
Winchester 1895 Rifle
Colt Walker .44
Bandolier of bullets
Doesn't count but GODDAMNIT, HATS.
Sheriff Badge
Abilities/Disadvantages: A true marksman, give Splinters a rifle and his enemies will fall. Quickly. However, for all his accuracy and skill at long range, he is noticeably worse in close range.

He is absolute shite riding a horse, preferring to run on foot. Native Americans aren't exactly a fan of him either.

[Raikage]

Name: Gavril Fane Vlasimirescu III

Gavril

Height: 6'3"
Weight: 205 plbs
Eye Color: Left eye is red, right eye is blue
Scars: none
Tattoos:


1st Tattoo: Mark of Criδsco
location: Right Pectoral
Description: This particular mark is one of three special markings, usually located on the left pectoral this mark is the mark of the cursed, it is given to those whose blood has been tainted by the blood of and evil creature. The mark is a protection that seals the evil blood away with in the body and stops its from corrupting the soul completely. It is believed that this mark is the only mark in the world that can stop full vampire transformation, it is a blessing of god.


2nd Tattoo: Mark of the Devil
Location: Left pectoral
Description: This mark is the second of the three sacred marks which binds evil, it is the mark of the devil, usually located on the left pectoral this mark is the sign that the body has been corrupted by and evil blood. This mark in particular keeps both the good and the evil side of the soul aligned so that neither one can ever over power the other keeping the human cursed with this mark from having their soul blackened by evil. This mark with the Mark of Criδsco protect the soul itself.


3rd Tattoo: Mark of Heavens gate
Location: Center stomach
Description: The third and final mark of the three sacred marks, usually located on the center stomach right below the first two marks, this is the gate key to the other marks. This mark keeps the gates to the soul closed and secured. As long as this mark is scribed on the body the soul can never be fully corrupted or tortured by the bad blood with in the body. Without this mark the human would be doomed to the torture of the first tow marks, always fighting for dominance of the soul.

Age: 35

Race: Human Vampire half breed

Gender: Male

Personality: Gavril is at best cold towards other people, his mind is often conflicted between good and evil thoughts but neither one ever being more powerful then the others ones. While most have a dark and a light side, Gavrils personality is a combination of the both which can cause him to act different ways. On the lighter side Gavril is a good hearted man who desires nothing but to help those who can't fight the impending evil that would take the world. He is caring and compassionate an would not turn his back on someone who needs him. On his darker side Gavril is bent on emotions for things like revenge, and is often conflicted by his want for blood shed and the want to murder those who would stand in his way. He is quick to judge and more often then not will deal out punishment before the hammer fall even strikes. This can often blind him to what is right or wrong, and has caused him to make grave errors in his life.

Biography: Gavril was born in a small village located in Transylvania to a family of what would be known today as Demon hunters. He is the third generation born in this family and also the third of his family to be born into the curse. The curse of the Vlasimirescu is well known in Transylvania and often was the form of harsh treatment that this particular family gained because of it. Life for Gavril was tough and at times very painful and filled with the evil that he was born with inside him. Like his fore fathers before him since the young age of three the three sacred markings were burned upon his body with fire and ash and he was taken to be trained by the oldest hunter of their family in the ways of demon hunting. Gavril has known nothing but hardship and harsh training this not only focused his mind but also his very body and soul. By time Gavril was in his teen years he was already battling the evil that was in Transylvania. Gavril was barely turning into a man when his family was killed under mysterious circumstances and he was sent to live with his grandfather, the same man who had trained him sense he was three.

However not even this lasted long, for his grandfather already seventy in his own rights passed away and Gavril was left on his own in the world. Gavril with only one clear path in life took to the roads, and in doing so continued his familys legacy of hunting creatures of the night. Through bad or worse Gavril heard tale of horrors spreading across the lands and had even spread to lands far in the north. With his knowledge passed to him, Gavril traveled from his home in Transylvania and to far away lands to help fight the evil that was creeping all around the world. Soon Gavril found himself heading to a place called Paradise, a town that was now in trouble of being consumed by the evil.

Equipment:
Razor Whip

Demon Wrath

Winchester Rifle

Colt 6 shooter

Abilities/Disadvantages:

Ability 1: Gavril because of the curse upon him is 2 times faster then the normal human being.

Ability 2: Gavril is an expert with hand to hand and bladed weapons, being trained his whole life in the art of hunting blades is his specialty.

Disadvantage 1: Gavril is no good with actual guns, trained with blades most of his life he was not trained to use weapons such as rifle or six shooters. While his skills with guns are mediocre at best they are not his strength.

Disadvantage 2: Gavril has trouble when there is lots of sun around while it may not kill him, too much exposure to a lot of sun light can and will harm in substantially so he must stay out of direct sun light for long amounts of time.

Disadvantage 3: Gavril is weakened in the sunlight.

[Arven Sique]

Name: Derek Aukos

Age: 26

Appearance:

Spoiler- Warning, the image is freaking huge.

(If anyone is curious, this is Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who will also serve as an inspiration for this character.)

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Personality: Quiet, but polite and friendly. He is a recent addition to the town, so he has no close friends as of yet. He is a man of faith to the extreme, and, for the most part, takes his bible literally, and applies his theology and philosophy to real life in all contexts. He is very stubborn, in his own way, and believes that there is a true/false answer to every moral dilemma, and thus he will stand firm on any decision he has come to in that regard. He is not a violent man, at heart, and would rather play chess or talk theology than shoot something, but he is firm and brave when he is convinced that something needs doing.

Bio: Aukos moved to the town about two months ago, well provided with funds, and bearing blacksmiths equipment, a covered wagon pulled by a horse of no particular regard, and of indistinct color, and a European accent caught somewhere between British and German. He moved into a small, abandoned cottage at the edge of town. (The previous had gone werewolf and had to be "put down") he set up his equipment, and did work where he could, and, in the meantime, began to build a small church by hand, about half a mile from his house. He is well kept, and tidy, with few possessions, aside from some weaponry, ammunition and basic furniture, and wears either basic, practical clothing, or a nicer suit of a minister. He is a deep thinker, and applies his thoughts to the world around him; for Aukos, philosophy and theology are only important if you live them. He keeps his Bible on hand nearly always, and every Sunday he stands in his incomplete church and preaches, whether or not anyone comes. However, his past is a bit of a mystery: there is a picture of a woman in his house, and he sometimes fades into a deep sadness, which he seldom communicates, except for an unusual silence. His large pool of capital is also a bit of an enigma, and is most likely connected to the heirloom sword he has.

Weapons:
Mauser, Spanish variety
Winchester shotgun (Aukos' particular weapon has a shortened barrel, and an attachment for a bayonet)
Heirloom sword, still sharp and cared for
In addition to these, he has a long knife, that can double as a bayonet for his shotgun.

Advantages/Disadvantages:

Aukos is not a man with a love of combat, however, still keeps in practice. The result is a very capable man, who fights like a soldier. His main strength is that he is very cool in a fight, and understands that being steady is more important than being fast. He is slightly above average in all areas of combat, except for when he uses his sword on horseback or on foot. He fights like a master with that. However, Aukos is not one for wanton killing, and is inclined to be more merciful than is, perhaps, wise. He is no coward, but he is rarely the first to shoot. His biggest advantages are his apparently vast capital resources, and his skill with engineering and construction.