Butchlings

[Butch]

Name: Seryn Drath
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Dunmer

Physical Description:

About 1.78m (5'10'') tall, athleticly slim with the dark skin and red eyes which are typical for his race. He shaves his head, which leaves him bald and the tip of his right ear is missing. He rarely gets out of his armor and due to the cold conditions he wears a furry cloak.

Skillset:

Expert Skills
One Handed
Light Armor
Adept Skills
Archery
Block
Novice Skills
Destruction
Sneak
Smithing (Enough to take care of his equipement and craft a bow and arrows)

History:

Seryn was born on a farm near Whiterun as the second child of an already poor family. His father worked on the fields while his mother served several nobles in the town itself. He spent his childhood helping out his parents with their duties. He worked on the field, served noble ladies, chased chickens and cleaned the floor. After he finished helping he would play with his brother, often chasing him across Whiterun rarely catching him. He grew up already learning what a good day of hard, manual labour and a honest, loving family is worth.

However when he got older and his childish ignorance and naivity wore off, he realized why his family was serving others, why no other children would play with him and his brother and why everyone seemed to look down on him. His mother called it the "unfortunate fate" of their kind, his father - a hard life, but one worth living. It didn't really matter for Seryn, it was not fair and he was angry about it. He started troubeling nobles, guards anyone who looked nord enough to be responsible for his fate. After an unfortunate encounter with a particularly witty nobel, who managed to aggravate Seryn enough to give up control over his already loose tongue, which lead to Seryn yelling, in front of the whole marketplace, about a fitting place for the jarl and the whole nobility of whiterun - one that rarely gets to see the sunlight, he got escorted into another place, for which the same could be said.

After a few days in prison Seryn returned to his family. His father sat him down and started talking about the exodus of the dunmer, the generosity of the nords, he asked Seryn if their life was all that bad. Seryn, whilst still not completely agreeing, had however learned a lesson or two. He became stoic, calm - quiet. If he had learned something it was that he was better off keeping his mouth shut and that if he wanted to change anything about his life, he had to do it himself. His brother, not quite the troublemaker, agreed at least with the latter.

When Seryn became 16 his father got sick and died shortly after. Seryn and his brother took over his work on the farms outside Whiteruns walls, but only half a year later - their mother followed her husband into the grave. The two boys, now left behind alone, realized there was no longer anything holding them in Whiterun. So they gathered every septim their family saved, each one took one half of their family "fortune", they hugged each other goodbye and left Whiterun in two parted ways.

Seryn became a mercenary, he traveld all across Tamriel and managed to survive this line of work long enough to become good at it. He learned how to fight with sword, dagger, axe and bow. He even picked up a few "tricks" from several temporary companions. A spell or two, how to throw a knive and how to fight with two weapons at once. He has already been through several adventures, leaving him with a few battlescars. After one particular job, which lead to him loosing part of his ear, he decided it to be best to never leave his armor unless necessary. He therefor wears it quite naturally and knows how to use it effectively.

Seryn very much considers himself a lone wolf, although he teamed up for jobs in the past. He barley speaks, says only what needs to be said, combined with the harsh looks of a dunmer he seems often cold. But despite all this he actually enjoys working with others and can still find a warm word or two. The fact that he barely speaks may keep others listening when he opens his mouth, however he has gotten pretty bad with words over the years.

Equipment:

• A sword made of nordic steel
• 2 steel daggers
• Scaled armor plus furry cloak
• A backpack with a few clothes, a blanket, some bread and cheese.
• A waterbottle
• A small dwemer gear (a souvenir from an old job)
• Some septims, just in case

Known Spells:

• Spark
• Magelight

Party Control: Yes

[Butch]

Janet „Bolt“ Lynch

“It's broken, idiot. Let me fix it and get the f*** away from it.”
- Janet Lynch

T H E B A S I C S

|Name|
Janet Lynch

|Birth Date|
February 7th, 2325

|Age|
32

|Species|
Human

|Gender|
Female

A P P E A R A N C E

Janet Lynch

|In Depth Appearance|
Janet is 5'8ft. (1.73m) tall and has long hair which she keeps colored grey, like her eyes. She's athletically built with particularly strong hands. Her outfit consists usually of a tank top and a utility vest, where she keeps several tools in arms reach, cargo pants, which are equally useful in the tool holding department, military-style safety boots and welding goggles. The clothes, like herself, are often dirty and covered in oil.

|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings|
She has several scars and burn marks on her hands from years of working with heavy machinery. The fingers of her left hand have obviously been broken several times, additionally part of her face was burnt in an accident a few years back. A complex tattoo covers her upper left arm.

G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E

|Job|
Engineer/Mechanic

|Likes & Dislikes|
✔Working, tinkering and maintaining machinery
✔Weapons, unless pointed her way.
✔Space, the vast emptiness comforts her.
✔Authority, likes people who can take charge of a situation.
✔Expertise, when someone knows what he/she is doing.
✘Children, don't know what they are doing.
✘Politics, basically adult children arguing.
✘Laziness, doesn't get the job done.
✘Cucumber, who likes it anyway.

|Habits|
Ever since she left the military Janet has made a habit of keeping up a similar lifestyle to the one, she was following during her service. When she is not checking the systems or doing any essential work, she will maintain her equipment, tinker or work out to keep up her physical performance. In her years aboard numerous vessels, traveling across the galaxy, she picked up a rather foul manner of speaking, which she tries to keep down. It shows, however, anytime she's in a state of emotional distress, especially when annoyed or angered.

|Fears|
☠Water, technically she fears the drowning aspect.
☠Captivity, literally and figuratively.

D E L V I N G D E E P E R

|Personality|
♦ Disciplined ♦ Reliable ♦ Vulgar ♦ Workaholic ♦

Janet identifies strongly with her work, since she has a passion for any kind of machinery, particularly space ships and weapons, to the point at which she often spends her free time tinkering and taking care of equipment. She tries to always perform at her best and follows given orders to the point, since Janet values the advantages of a solid order of command and especially a competent commander. She is however not a people pleaser and dislikes it when others "suck up" to their superiors.

Janet may seem somewhat distant, due to her being taken up by her work quite a lot, but she does enjoy the company of others, as long as they don't stay between her and a malfunctioning engine. She likes, or at least approves of, people who manage to do their own job properly, and highly regards those who excel in their field of expertise, as long as she believes this expertise are of some value, unlike politics.

|Place of Origin|
Earth

|History|
Janet grew up in a middle-class family, her mother was a teacher and her father owned a small workshop, inside which she discovered her interest for moving metal at an early age and spent her youth taking apart and repairing all sort of machines and devices. She spent long nights tinkering and building improvised devices out of spare parts from her father's workshop and the nearby scrap yard. When she was 14, an uncle took her with him on a trip to all the big terran colonies. The experience of space travel lead her to pursue a career, which would allow her to spend her lifetime aboard massive ships, traveling the galaxy.

When she was old enough, Janet signed up for five years of service in the terran military forces, as a combat engineer. Her training mostly consisted of learning how to repair, maintain and setup military equipment and vehicles, often under battle conditions. She also learned how to use a variety of weaponry, although she never excelled at using them, she nonetheless finds pleasure in working on them to this day, especially explosives. After her training she was sent on several missions on board a variety of ships. One such mission almost ended by her drowning in an ocean, after the ship she was on was shot down by pirates while in atmosphere, ever since this day she has, to her own shame, developed a fear of water.

After these five years of service Janet wanted to find new challenges and worked on several civilian ships, ranging from transporters to scientific research vessels, always ready to jump aboard a new ship - a new challenge. Which lead her to her most recent job on board of a small space ship, named after a certain animal.

[Butch]

Sabre03

Rank
Gunnery Sergeant

Name
Jack „Pain“ Fetcher

Appearance
Nearly 7 feet tall and built like a bull. He keeps his black hair cut short in a classic military style. Grey eyes sheltered by thick eyebrows. A thin nose leads to equally thin lips in strong contrast to his strong jaw. His right arm bears a tattoo of a raven sitting on a gravestone with several initials engraved on it. His hands and feet are even bigger than expected and there are even a few scars here and there, complementing his muscular stature.

His deployment suit consists of a black undersuit which has been fitted with multiple dark blue armor plates, with white detailing. The helmet consists largely of a golden visor reaching from jaw to hairline, ensuring a wide field of view at the cost of less protection.

Deployment Suit

Age
26

Sex
Male

Specializations
Heavy weaponry and Hand-to-hand combat.

Augmentations
Enhanced strength and endurance, as well as increased durability and healing (not like wolverine, but pretty decent). The procedure however also resulted in Jack getting permanent analgesia, the inability to feel pain, which sounds good but is as much curse as blessing.

Sabre Deployment Suit
The suit is outfitted with an onboard computer drawing power from a power unit in the back and can be controlled by voice, gestures or via pad on the left arm. It reads the users vitals and makes sure to keep the suit-environment at a comfortable level. Sensors can detect infra- and ultraviolet wavelengths and electromagnetic fields. And display this information as an overlay on the visor. The computer also manages radio communications and displays information received from other deployment suits on the visor, as well as its own.

The suit is armored and can resist multiple low-caliber hits and smaller explosions. High-caliber might however penetrate on the first hit, although it normally should take a few. The armor plates are tuned to minimally limit the user's movements and yet cover most of his body. As a complete unit the suit can be sealed airtight and protects from radiation as well as environmental hazards for extended periods of time, producing its own oxygen. For movement in zero-G environments the suit is also fitted with magnetic boots and thrusters on arms and legs.

As a special the suit contains several small motors to give the user a speed or strength boost over a short period of time, limited by the same power unit the computer uses. Together with Jack's enhancements, the two can produce an unknown amount of force.

Additionally the suit comes with several attachable pouches, for ammunition, grenades or whatever the user feels like putting in them.

Personality
Jack is a soldier through and through. Always disciplined and follows his orders to the point, without too many questions. While treating his superiors with respect he is however not a mindless sheep and can still think for himself. (Although he dislikes disagreeing with them). As far as his fellow soldiers go, they are the only friends he'll ever need or have. Therefore he values them exceptionally, which he often shows by not talking with them, but rather listen to what they have to say, before making his own opinion known. In combat while calm and coolheaded, due to his experience, he also displays a merciless, cold and aggressive behavior towards the enemy. All in all you could say that the military life is the only one he ever knew and ever will know.

History
Jack Fetcher's life was all planned out from the very moment of his birth. As the first and only son of the highly distinguished Major General William Fetcher and a woman, who only those with a keen sense of diplomacy would describe as his „concubine“, Jack was destined to become a great officer himself.

Growing up on earth, carefully looked after by a number of servants, Jack learned early what was going to be expected from him. His earliest memories are about him sitting in front of the big fireplace in his father's study, listening to stories about well-known generals, the great war and tactical masterminds. After every such story his father would look at him and ask, if he knew the meaning of him telling these stories. Jack's naive answers however never quite seemed to satisfy. The disappointment on the major general's face was haunting, leading Jack to try and become the vision he was supposed to be.

From his eighth birthday on his day consisted of several training exercises, as preparation for the physical demands of any combat situation, and many hours of private lessons about strategy and tactics. In these lessons Jack displayed an infuriating inability to see the bigger picture, often loosing himself in the movements of single soldiers. His teacher, an old colleague of the major general, therefore changed from teaching with complex virtual battleground simulations to chess, trying to at least teach the boy the basics of a tactically thinking mind. To the frustration and continued disappointment of both his father and his teacher, this method only resulted in Jack becoming a great chess player, with no other notable progress. Still trying to impress his father, Jack changed his focus and doubled his efforts in the daily physical exercises.

The school he visited focused heavily on „military education“. Morning drills, exercises and inspections were not unusual. Aiming to prepare the students for a glorious military career, the school demanded absolute discipline, a concept with which Jack was very familiar. His father had always demanded from everyone to call him by his rank rather than name, even by his son and Jack's bedroom was being inspected every morning at six o'clock ever since he could walk. Even now the courses Jack attended were mostly chosen by the major general. With a few exceptions, one being a facultative course in boxing, which he enjoyed so much that he picked every other possible course with any relation to hand-to-hand combat. These combined with his continued work-out made him a (physical) force to be reckoned with. Nearly seven feet tall and built like a bull. Every other course however he performed average at best and repeatedly failed exams on some of his father's favorite subjects.

With eighteen years of age Jack signed up for duty in earth's military forces. Marines, the soul of every navy, composed of men and women forged in gunfire and formed in combat. Heroes each and every sngle one of them. At least if the recruitment center was to be believed. In basic training many drill sergeants were however eager to remind Jack that even when polished: „Shit's still f***ing shit!“ Despite these encouraging words, Jack became quickly known as an excellent recruit. He was encouraged to join special forces training, an offer which he promptly accepted. The training was focused on operating in small teams, each member learning how to handle a wide array of weaponry, before specializing on one of them. Due to his physical nature, Jack was chosen to handle heavy weaponry. The training ultimately made him an outstanding soldier, but despite his continued efforts he never got recommended for a officer position.

At the end of his training, when it became clear that he would not become an officer any time soon, his father lost it. Jack took it like he was taught - at attention. No objections. The only words leaving his mouth were „Sir, yes, Sir!“ The anger and disappointment on the major general's face, the sheer velocity of spit projected into Jack's face by every syllable thrown at him and the massive amount of insults, both regular and creatively made up on the spot, put every drill sergeant Jack had ever faced to shame. After three hours, Major General William Fetcher finally declared to no longer have a son worth mentioning in his biography and banned Jack from his presence forever.

Following this event Jack served diligently in the special forces, completing many missions, often to the utmost satisfaction of his superiors. The last one in a series of missions, meant to disrupt supplies of very specific rebel units, however changed that. Spec Ops had always meant danger, operating behind enemy lines had it coming, yet his team was still surprised when the depot they were supposed to blow up, turned out to be a very carefully planned and executed ambush by rebel forces. In a few seconds half of the six-man squad perished in a hail of gunfire. The ensuing firefight only continued for four minutes, in which Jack lost his last two squad mates trying to hastily retreat to EVAC. As the last survivor he made it out just in time, wounded but very much alive. He had not only failed the mission and lost his squad, but also most of his friends.

The traumatic experience and the haunting memories of his father changed him. He became bitter and quiet. From there on out he gained a reputation for his new behavior, especially in combat. His coolheaded, calculated way of fighting gained a more brutal, aggressive and almost sadistic note, resulting in him earning a new Nickname from other soldiers. „Pain“, so the enemy knew what they were getting. The irony was not lost on Jack.

After eight years of service he was granted the rank of Gunnery sergeant. Despite his flaws in "not seeing the bigger picture on the battlefield", as his teachers used to tell him, Jack gained a great understanding of tactics on a squad level, more focused on individual soldiers than whole squads or even platoons. Despite his achievements Jack sees himself very much as a failure. So when he was assigned to the saber program, after being told that it would „make you better than you could ever dream of, gunny!“ he didn't ask too many questions.

[Butch]

Neria Saren

Name: Neria Saren
Age: 33
Race: Dunmer
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual

Appearance: Neria has long dark hair, which frames a face with dark red eyes typical for her species. A few scars give it character, as well as a face tattoo. She's quite muscular, due to her wearing heavy armor almost constantly.

Appearance

Personality: Neria is diligent, smart and fearless. The code she used to follow, taught loyalty and honor as well, but she somewhat lost these virtues in recent years. She likes skilled fighters and people who follow a clear path in their life. However she dislikes argonians, since most of her memories of the reptilians consist of blood and death.
Neria knows little else but fighting and her social skills or lack thereof have gotten her into trouble more than once. Since she has lost her path, she cars for few things, yet she is always ready to do what must be done.

Class: Redoran Warrior (basically Warrior plus Destruction)
Birthsign: The Steed
Faction: House Redoran

Major Skills: One-Handed, Heavy Armor, Block, Two-Handed, Archery
Minor Skills: Alchemy, Destruction, Smithing

History:
Neria Saren was born into the great House Redoran, known for its great warriors, on the 9th of Mid Year, 4E170. It had been 165 years since the Red Mountain erupted and the argonian Invasion of Morrowind, known as the Accession War began. The still ongoing war between the radical An-Xileel and the Great Houses ensured that Neria would never experience peace in her short childhood.

As soon as she was able to speak, she learned the True Noble's Code of House Redoran. It was meant as a path for true warriors and taught loyalty, honor and diligence above all else. One that her parents followed every day, often leaving the young child back home to go out and fight the argonian invaders. She grew up, hoping that she would become a skilled fighter herself.

On her sixth birthday however, the message of her parent’s death, killed in a skirmish, arrived early in the morning. Fueled by anger and the wish to revenge her parents, Neria learned the way of the warrior. Her training included the use of every weapon accessible to her masters, often in full heavy armor. Soon she became a proud Redoran Warrior, not only skilled with weapons, but also in the magic art of destruction.

When she was 17 years old, she took her first steps onto a battlefield. The same day she killed for the first time. Yet the memory of the green scaled Argonian gasping out his last breath, would soon fade as she grew older and spent many more days fighting – killing. Within 11 years, Neria made a name for herself as a talented fighter. Fearless, loyal and honorable. A true Redoran.

As the years went by, the Great Houses slowly but surely fought back the An-Xileel, until they only held the southern most regions of Morrowind. The war combined with the continued activity of the Red Mountain had left most of the region in ruins. and nothing more but a barren wasteland. Early in the First Seed 4E198, the great houses assembled an army to battle a large unit of An-Xileel forces, located in Narsis.

The dunmer assault was met with heavy resistance, leading to great losses on both sides and ultimately resulting in a retreat of the dunmer forces. During said retreat, Neria, already wounded from the previous battle, was hit with two arrows and left, presumed dead, in front of the town's gates. Lying amidst the dead bodies of her fellow comrades, convinced her last moment was quickly approaching, Neria thought of the people dear to her. The realization that most had been killed and that she had spent her life spilling much blood herself, hit her like a boulder to the head, finally leaving her unconscious.

She woke up in the middle of the night, still lying cold on the ground. When she came to the conclusion that she would not die within the next hours, she decided took drag herself away from the city. After an hour of painfully crawling over the battlefield, Neria finally reached what was left of a small forest, in which she took shelter for a while. While bandaging her wounds, she decided that she could not return to the life she had lived so far. With nowhere else to go she made her way through the woods, finally coming across a road which lead her out of Morrowind and across the border to Cyrodiil.

Having lost her way, Neria became a mercenary, selling her services to anyone with enough money. The next three years she traveled all across Tamriel, taking any job offered. She soon learned that outside Morrowind her kind was disliked at best and despised by most, especially in Skyrim where she ended up in 4E201, aimlessly wandering from city to city.

One day, while traveling with a merchant as bodyguard, Neria witnessed the Dragonborn kill a dragon, after the beast had attacked the small chariot. Dovahkiin, as the nords called him, had shown up in the nick of time, to save both the merchant and Neria and after consuming the beast's soul the Dragonborn traveled with them to the next town. On the way Neria talked to him about life and duty. His words stuck with Neria for a while, even long after they had parted ways. Their meaning had a strange meaning to her, who had lost her path.

She kept traveling Skyrim as a mercenary, always keeping an open ear for stories about the Dragonborn. When she heard of his death, a great desire to help avenge him and to continue his fight arose inside her. The reason why keeps eluding her, but nonetheless Neria is committed to the cause.

Extra:
• She wears a Bonemold Armor, which shows marks of her many battles in the Accession War.
• She carries an elven shield, since she lost her original one in the battle for Narsis.
• She mainly uses a Jade Blade (JaySuS Swords) and an elven dagger, both of which she sometimes dual wields.