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[CHAR] Fallout: Vancouver
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- Post-Apocalyptic
- Fandom
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- Sci-Fi
- GM Legion-114
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Kingfisher Observing or participating?
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Name: Galhaena Calhoun
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Picture/Appearance:
Galhaena lives a life of luxury, unknown to most even before the world was drowned in atomic fire. Whilst she was once lithe and malnourished, the young woman’s decadent lifestyle and lavish days of lounging about has taken a considerable toll on her body. She has become relatively overweight, possessing a large form with broad features. She uses this to her advantage, however, as every inch of her body is styled and sculpted to create an air of regal sophistication. She has her own unique beauty; one which holds an element of enticing mystery to many other wastelanders.
Affiliation: The Coalition
Backstory: Galhaena grew up within the frigid wastes of post-war Canada, during a time when Vancouver was little more than a pile of rubble, infested with warring tribes. As a member of the Ice-Splitter tribe, Galhaena’s upbringing was a harsh one, ensnared in poverty and bloodshed.
Whilst the young woman was a mediocre fighter, her real strength came from her killer mindset. When she was just 16, Galhaena challenged the leader of the Ice-Splitters, a Super-Mutant who styled himself “King Coldfist” to a duel-to-the-death for control of the tribe. Amused by the child’s supposed hotheadedness, King Coldfist accepted, and the pair were set to face off each other in the dugout which served as an arena for settling inter-tribal disputes.
Little did King Coldfist know, but Galhaena had sabotaged one of the ladders down into the pit, so when the Super Mutant began making his way down, the ladder snapped beneath his weight, and sent him tumbling down into the icy ring below. The chieftain's legs were shattered, leaving him flat on his back, and wailing in pain. Galhaena made short work of the heavily impaired King Coldfist, and assumed control of the tribe.
Over the next few years, Galhaena used a mixture of bartering and backstabbing to expand the Ice-Splitter’s hold over Vancouver, slowly spreading out and engulfing many of the other warring tribes.
A northern branch of the Gun Runner’s unknowingly headed through Galhaena’s territory, on their way to establish trade routes in the Canadian Wasteland, and the clansmen set upon them; butchering the merchants and looting their weapons. From that point onwards, it became child’s play for the Ice-Splitters to overwhelm their vastly under-equipped enemies.
It was this cut-throat attitude, and the unquestionable resourcefulness of Galhaena Calhoun, which first drew the attention of the Coalition.
Galhaena was invited to meet with the Chairman of the Coalition, who offered her and her people a place within the relatively civilised circle of settlements which he was developing, in return for enlisting the Ice-Splitters as the Coalition’s own private militia.
The young woman was content to play the role of lacky for a few years, as the Coalition re-established its presence in the Wasteland, until the day she usurped the board of directors, and asserted herself as the undisputed Trade Queen of Canada.
Under Galhaena’s rule, the Coalition has spread out across the wastes, developing into an immense merchant conglomerate.
The Coalition holds influence over all of post-war Canada, with the ruins of Quebec serving as its bustling urban center. Made up of smugglers, raiders, slavers, traders, and many other sleazy characters, the coalition is a sprawling merchant empire; with caravans and supply lines stretching out across the white wastes in an intricate web.
Forged from the tattered remnants of an old world industrial conglomerate, the entrepreneurial kingdom has grown into too large a power to simply be swept away by freedom fighters and wasteland wanderers, and has asserted itself as a major player in the Canadian wastes.
A few do gooders try and stand against the Coalition, but most take advantage of the many services and wares that the merchants have to offer. Rare salvage, guns, and traveling companions can all be brought for the right price; making the Coalition a very valuable ally to have indeed.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Picture/Appearance:
Galhaena lives a life of luxury, unknown to most even before the world was drowned in atomic fire. Whilst she was once lithe and malnourished, the young woman’s decadent lifestyle and lavish days of lounging about has taken a considerable toll on her body. She has become relatively overweight, possessing a large form with broad features. She uses this to her advantage, however, as every inch of her body is styled and sculpted to create an air of regal sophistication. She has her own unique beauty; one which holds an element of enticing mystery to many other wastelanders.
Affiliation: The Coalition
Backstory: Galhaena grew up within the frigid wastes of post-war Canada, during a time when Vancouver was little more than a pile of rubble, infested with warring tribes. As a member of the Ice-Splitter tribe, Galhaena’s upbringing was a harsh one, ensnared in poverty and bloodshed.
Whilst the young woman was a mediocre fighter, her real strength came from her killer mindset. When she was just 16, Galhaena challenged the leader of the Ice-Splitters, a Super-Mutant who styled himself “King Coldfist” to a duel-to-the-death for control of the tribe. Amused by the child’s supposed hotheadedness, King Coldfist accepted, and the pair were set to face off each other in the dugout which served as an arena for settling inter-tribal disputes.
Little did King Coldfist know, but Galhaena had sabotaged one of the ladders down into the pit, so when the Super Mutant began making his way down, the ladder snapped beneath his weight, and sent him tumbling down into the icy ring below. The chieftain's legs were shattered, leaving him flat on his back, and wailing in pain. Galhaena made short work of the heavily impaired King Coldfist, and assumed control of the tribe.
Over the next few years, Galhaena used a mixture of bartering and backstabbing to expand the Ice-Splitter’s hold over Vancouver, slowly spreading out and engulfing many of the other warring tribes.
A northern branch of the Gun Runner’s unknowingly headed through Galhaena’s territory, on their way to establish trade routes in the Canadian Wasteland, and the clansmen set upon them; butchering the merchants and looting their weapons. From that point onwards, it became child’s play for the Ice-Splitters to overwhelm their vastly under-equipped enemies.
It was this cut-throat attitude, and the unquestionable resourcefulness of Galhaena Calhoun, which first drew the attention of the Coalition.
Galhaena was invited to meet with the Chairman of the Coalition, who offered her and her people a place within the relatively civilised circle of settlements which he was developing, in return for enlisting the Ice-Splitters as the Coalition’s own private militia.
The young woman was content to play the role of lacky for a few years, as the Coalition re-established its presence in the Wasteland, until the day she usurped the board of directors, and asserted herself as the undisputed Trade Queen of Canada.
Under Galhaena’s rule, the Coalition has spread out across the wastes, developing into an immense merchant conglomerate.
The Coalition holds influence over all of post-war Canada, with the ruins of Quebec serving as its bustling urban center. Made up of smugglers, raiders, slavers, traders, and many other sleazy characters, the coalition is a sprawling merchant empire; with caravans and supply lines stretching out across the white wastes in an intricate web.
Forged from the tattered remnants of an old world industrial conglomerate, the entrepreneurial kingdom has grown into too large a power to simply be swept away by freedom fighters and wasteland wanderers, and has asserted itself as a major player in the Canadian wastes.
A few do gooders try and stand against the Coalition, but most take advantage of the many services and wares that the merchants have to offer. Rare salvage, guns, and traveling companions can all be brought for the right price; making the Coalition a very valuable ally to have indeed.
Lord Coake The Man Who Sold the World
Member
Seen
8 yrs ago
Name: Abram Martin
Age: 237
Gender: Male
Race: Ghoul
Appearance: Abram has the rotting, carcass-colored flesh trademark of ghouls, though his time spent in the wilderness means more vegetative growth graces his body. His scalp is graced by enough hair to be somewhat presentable, and his eyes burn with a bright, fiery red glow. He wears his old US Army olive fatigues, though covered in grime and dirt, with black hiking boots, and an old US Air Force bomber pilot jacket from before the Great War. He also has a small wooden cross around his neck, tied with rope. For armaments he carries a scoped .308 bolt-action hunting rifle, an N99 10mm service pistol, a hunting knife, and a small switchblade hidden in his boot. He holds his gear and supplies in an olive green military backpack.
Affiliation: Solo, for now.
Backstory: Born in rural Washington State in 2054, Abram was raised catholic by his father and older brother John, with his mother having died after giving birth to him. His upbringing instilled in him a sense of faith, in both God and Humanity, and the patriotism rampant in pre-war America. Living in the rural woods, several miles from the nearest small town, his father and brother would often take Abram hunting with the family rifle, a tradition Abram upholds to this day. This is where he obtained his honed marksmanship skills that would come to serve him well in the future. By the age of 18, in 2071, Abram's American fervor and faith led to both him and his older brother enlisting with the American Armed Forces, with his brother serving in the Air Force, and himself serving in the Army. They both fought in the Liberation of Anchorage, with Abram winning a Silver Star for exceptional bravery. Abram's brother John was less lucky, being shot down in the return from a bombing run. Upon the end of Abram's tour of duty, John's jacket was given to him in memorium, which he wears to this day. After serving in the war against China, Abram returned to Washington, living in the home of his father, who had retired and moved away. This led to Abram's life as a wilderness man and near-hermit status, only making trips to town to purchase supplies, and sell off meat and furs. Perhaps it was this life that blessed him when the bombs fell, as he was far enough away to survive being obliterated, instead becoming a ghoul, doomed to liver forever. This is when he took to the wandering he does now, moving across the wastes with the game he hunts, trading and working in towns for goods and rest, before moving on to he next area.
Age: 237
Gender: Male
Race: Ghoul
Appearance: Abram has the rotting, carcass-colored flesh trademark of ghouls, though his time spent in the wilderness means more vegetative growth graces his body. His scalp is graced by enough hair to be somewhat presentable, and his eyes burn with a bright, fiery red glow. He wears his old US Army olive fatigues, though covered in grime and dirt, with black hiking boots, and an old US Air Force bomber pilot jacket from before the Great War. He also has a small wooden cross around his neck, tied with rope. For armaments he carries a scoped .308 bolt-action hunting rifle, an N99 10mm service pistol, a hunting knife, and a small switchblade hidden in his boot. He holds his gear and supplies in an olive green military backpack.
Affiliation: Solo, for now.
Backstory: Born in rural Washington State in 2054, Abram was raised catholic by his father and older brother John, with his mother having died after giving birth to him. His upbringing instilled in him a sense of faith, in both God and Humanity, and the patriotism rampant in pre-war America. Living in the rural woods, several miles from the nearest small town, his father and brother would often take Abram hunting with the family rifle, a tradition Abram upholds to this day. This is where he obtained his honed marksmanship skills that would come to serve him well in the future. By the age of 18, in 2071, Abram's American fervor and faith led to both him and his older brother enlisting with the American Armed Forces, with his brother serving in the Air Force, and himself serving in the Army. They both fought in the Liberation of Anchorage, with Abram winning a Silver Star for exceptional bravery. Abram's brother John was less lucky, being shot down in the return from a bombing run. Upon the end of Abram's tour of duty, John's jacket was given to him in memorium, which he wears to this day. After serving in the war against China, Abram returned to Washington, living in the home of his father, who had retired and moved away. This led to Abram's life as a wilderness man and near-hermit status, only making trips to town to purchase supplies, and sell off meat and furs. Perhaps it was this life that blessed him when the bombs fell, as he was far enough away to survive being obliterated, instead becoming a ghoul, doomed to liver forever. This is when he took to the wandering he does now, moving across the wastes with the game he hunts, trading and working in towns for goods and rest, before moving on to he next area.
Korbanjaro The Rogue Rook
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Name: Garrett Hudson
Age: 34 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Affiliation: Currently Independent, Previous Unknown
Picture/Appearance:
With dark hair and green eyes, there are few notable features about his face aside, of course, from the numerous scars and evidence of past injuries. He is usually seen wearing jeans, a rough shirt, a worn-down fedora and a Seattle Police Department SWAT riot vest, though it's been remarked that the red bandana tied to his shoulder seems a little out-of-place for someone so practical.
The man walks through the wasteland with a positive attitude wholly unsuited to one who has seen such violence. Instead, he's usually got a smile on his face, sunglasses on his eyes, and a joke on the tip of his tongue.
Backstory:
Known for his positive attitude and easy-going manner, Hudson has been a welcome sight in the past five years, especially in the BC Wasteland, and those who know him quite like the man. However, not many can quite pin down where the man came from, and when exactly it was that he arrived, though most seem to recall that it was about 2270 or so. He has been a regular staple in and out of Gastown ever since, though he's often gone for days, even weeks at a time, always coming back with unique salvage to trade.
Hudson's history, however, isn't something he likes to discuss very much. He doesn't like to talk about the numerous scars on his arms and back, and certainly not strange brand on the back of his right shoulder, that of a bull with an "X" burned over it. Several who have been insistent about such things have been given clear, no-nonsense warnings from behind the muzzle of Hudson's 12.7mm pistol, Fiona. As of yet, she hasn't had to provide a stronger argument than simply a glare.
Still, Hudson has formed a kinship with the people of the Vancouver Wasteland, and seems especially willing to do whatever is necessary to keep others from harm. He acts with swift justice against any who would try to plunder or pillage at the expense of others, and is especially perturbed by any who try to inflict their will upon others, letting Fiona back up his arguments when his personal charm can't quite seem to get the job done.
But despite his overall "righteous" demeanor, surely one with Hudson's fighting skills had to come from somewhere. And surely a man so determined to cause a ruckus can't avoid notice forever.
Age: 34 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Affiliation: Currently Independent, Previous Unknown
Picture/Appearance:
With dark hair and green eyes, there are few notable features about his face aside, of course, from the numerous scars and evidence of past injuries. He is usually seen wearing jeans, a rough shirt, a worn-down fedora and a Seattle Police Department SWAT riot vest, though it's been remarked that the red bandana tied to his shoulder seems a little out-of-place for someone so practical.
The man walks through the wasteland with a positive attitude wholly unsuited to one who has seen such violence. Instead, he's usually got a smile on his face, sunglasses on his eyes, and a joke on the tip of his tongue.
Backstory:
Known for his positive attitude and easy-going manner, Hudson has been a welcome sight in the past five years, especially in the BC Wasteland, and those who know him quite like the man. However, not many can quite pin down where the man came from, and when exactly it was that he arrived, though most seem to recall that it was about 2270 or so. He has been a regular staple in and out of Gastown ever since, though he's often gone for days, even weeks at a time, always coming back with unique salvage to trade.
Hudson's history, however, isn't something he likes to discuss very much. He doesn't like to talk about the numerous scars on his arms and back, and certainly not strange brand on the back of his right shoulder, that of a bull with an "X" burned over it. Several who have been insistent about such things have been given clear, no-nonsense warnings from behind the muzzle of Hudson's 12.7mm pistol, Fiona. As of yet, she hasn't had to provide a stronger argument than simply a glare.
Still, Hudson has formed a kinship with the people of the Vancouver Wasteland, and seems especially willing to do whatever is necessary to keep others from harm. He acts with swift justice against any who would try to plunder or pillage at the expense of others, and is especially perturbed by any who try to inflict their will upon others, letting Fiona back up his arguments when his personal charm can't quite seem to get the job done.
But despite his overall "righteous" demeanor, surely one with Hudson's fighting skills had to come from somewhere. And surely a man so determined to cause a ruckus can't avoid notice forever.
GM
Legion-114
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
Name: Colonel Alexander Davis
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Pure)
Picture/Appearance:
Affiliation: The Enclave
Backstory :
Colonel Davis was a field officers during the Brotherhood’s assault of Adams Airforce Base during 2277/8. Prior to that he had been a warden officer, mainly stationed as head of security for research teams investigating classified sites throughout the wasteland. It was also Davis who ‘saved’ President Iron. Well rather uncovered him from the remains of Raven Rock when he evacuated a handful of Enclave Personnel from the mobile base.
Thirteen Years on and President Irons had promoted Davis to the rank of Colonel and was now in charge of rebuilding what remained of the Enclave, retreating to ENCLAVE.STATION.TAU, an oil rig off the coast of Vancouver. Currently enroute to Fort New Haven to establish a forward operations outpost, President Irons has begun what has been cod named Project: Genesis.
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Pure)
Picture/Appearance:
Affiliation: The Enclave
Backstory :
Colonel Davis was a field officers during the Brotherhood’s assault of Adams Airforce Base during 2277/8. Prior to that he had been a warden officer, mainly stationed as head of security for research teams investigating classified sites throughout the wasteland. It was also Davis who ‘saved’ President Iron. Well rather uncovered him from the remains of Raven Rock when he evacuated a handful of Enclave Personnel from the mobile base.
Thirteen Years on and President Irons had promoted Davis to the rank of Colonel and was now in charge of rebuilding what remained of the Enclave, retreating to ENCLAVE.STATION.TAU, an oil rig off the coast of Vancouver. Currently enroute to Fort New Haven to establish a forward operations outpost, President Irons has begun what has been cod named Project: Genesis.
Korbanjaro The Rogue Rook
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
The Empire of the Shattered Sky
Backstory:
Initially, Vault 44 was designed by Vault-Tec to study Communism and the Chinese "mindset," by packing only Chinese citizens into the space, closing it off to all other influences. The number 44 was cruelly chosen simply because the number four is equated to "death" in Chinese culture. Exactly 44 years to the day after the vault was sealed, it opened unexpectedly, and the residents slowly made their way out into the northern winter of the British Columbia wasteland.
Since that time, the former vault-dwellers established their own society, based on the principles of their homeland, and followed a charismatic leader known as The Emperor of the Shattered Sky. This Emperor seems immortal, and has never been replaced. Under his leadership, the Empire has grown strong, encompassing much of former Vancouver, and proving a remarkably stable and intimidating force in the BC Wasteland as the years have gone on.
More recently, within the last decade, a surprising amount of flaming debris touched down near Imperial borders, and their scouts and scientists gathered as much as they could find, realizing that the scorched pieces comprised parts of an extraterrestrial vessel. Though the concept had frightening complications, the Imperial scientists went to work, eventually scrapping together a working version of one of the unusual weapons - a beam which could be reflected off of one of the numerous satellites in orbit, to be fired down as space-faring artillery.
Upon the initial test fire, however, the beam's aim was slightly miscalculated, and scorched a non-Imperial settlement, Tsing Sha, approximately two hundred miles south of the Imperial palace. The accident notwithstanding, the results were impressive, as nothing had survived the blast, and the earth and sand itself had been practically turned to glass and slag where there was once buildings and farms.
The test proven successful, the Emperor encouraged further research, especially in light of the considerable power drain required by the weapon itself.
The test firing, however, attracted the attention of both The Enclave and The Brotherhood of Steel, each of which sent scouting groups to the area like moths to a flame, curious and concerned about the source of such an output of energy.
Backstory:
Initially, Vault 44 was designed by Vault-Tec to study Communism and the Chinese "mindset," by packing only Chinese citizens into the space, closing it off to all other influences. The number 44 was cruelly chosen simply because the number four is equated to "death" in Chinese culture. Exactly 44 years to the day after the vault was sealed, it opened unexpectedly, and the residents slowly made their way out into the northern winter of the British Columbia wasteland.
Since that time, the former vault-dwellers established their own society, based on the principles of their homeland, and followed a charismatic leader known as The Emperor of the Shattered Sky. This Emperor seems immortal, and has never been replaced. Under his leadership, the Empire has grown strong, encompassing much of former Vancouver, and proving a remarkably stable and intimidating force in the BC Wasteland as the years have gone on.
More recently, within the last decade, a surprising amount of flaming debris touched down near Imperial borders, and their scouts and scientists gathered as much as they could find, realizing that the scorched pieces comprised parts of an extraterrestrial vessel. Though the concept had frightening complications, the Imperial scientists went to work, eventually scrapping together a working version of one of the unusual weapons - a beam which could be reflected off of one of the numerous satellites in orbit, to be fired down as space-faring artillery.
Upon the initial test fire, however, the beam's aim was slightly miscalculated, and scorched a non-Imperial settlement, Tsing Sha, approximately two hundred miles south of the Imperial palace. The accident notwithstanding, the results were impressive, as nothing had survived the blast, and the earth and sand itself had been practically turned to glass and slag where there was once buildings and farms.
The test proven successful, the Emperor encouraged further research, especially in light of the considerable power drain required by the weapon itself.
The test firing, however, attracted the attention of both The Enclave and The Brotherhood of Steel, each of which sent scouting groups to the area like moths to a flame, curious and concerned about the source of such an output of energy.
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