Lucius Cypher

Delta End

ROKKIT MECHEAD

SHORTY GROTSKY

---

Rokkit was damn glad that the commander of this operation, Nevyn, kept things short. Granted Rokkit didn’t actually listen to all of it but he got the important bits: They were going after the person who attacked the plaza yesterday. And they were going to do that now. Even better, since Rokkit didn’t really have a plan but if they got this many folks, then they ought to do fine just by numbers alone. Even better, Rokkit will get to pilot a transport! He has no idea if this is some sort of armored truck or a flying gunship, but it didn’t matter to him. He would just be glad to finally be getting a proper war machine in his hands than all of these street racers he’s been stealing. Going fast is awesome, but he wanted something with more bite.

Leaving to go get his gear and see what he’s driving, Shorty stayed behind. She did one final check to make sure her appearance was okay before walking up to the commander and his secretary. She did her best to look professional, at least like Alayna, though also trying not to look like she’s just copying her. Shorty needed to make a good impression after all, and being a copycat was not a good look. However before Shorty could even speak, Nevyn took the initiative and spoke to her first. This caught Shorty off guard.

“Oh! Ahem, yes, I’m not one of the agents you recruited. My name is Shorty Grotsky, you could say I work with Rokkit, your newest agent.” First, Shorty extended her hand out to Nyven for a shake. She was pretty sure this is what you’re supposed to do in a professional setting, at least in those police procedure show’s that Shorty watches sometimes. If nothing else, Shorty knows how to stand her ground. Except instead of gangsters and tough guys, she’s talking to a police commander. “I am here to offer my services and enter your employment. You’ll find that I am a skilled technician and communication’s officer. I am the one who keeps Rokkit’s equipment and weapons operational, as well as gathering information and data needed to keep him alive.”
Shorty then produced Bosco from her briefcase. It was the only thing of importance there, since while she did have some papers, they were just random flyers she had so it looked like she kept important documents. “This is Bosco. He’s a combat drone that I developed to assist Rokkit in the field. He is also the means in which I can assist him without endangering myself from any distance. More importantly, through Bosco I can keep an eye on Rokkit.” Shorty has Bosco do some maneuvers through the air, as well as showing its armaments.

“Rokkit is a good agent, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get himself into trouble. I noticed that you assigned him as the pilot. That’s good, he’s a great driver, and he can even operate aircraft he’s never seen before like a pro. But he won’t be satisfied just staying behind the wheel. Chances are if he has the opportunity, he will recklessly endanger himself, the team, and the vehicle for the mission. But that’s where I come in. If you hire me, I can ensure that Rokkit doesn’t cause any more damage than he has to. He trusts me to handle things in his stead so he can focus on the important things such as, in his own words, ‘krumping gits’. This keeps collateral damage down and efficiency up.” Shorty ends as she has Bosco demonstrate some other abilities he had, such as opposable hands and the ability to access machines and electronics through it’s complex hacking tools. The same ones that Shorty herself would use to operate the transport if needed.

As Shorty was speaking, Nevyn would look down at the much shorter person all while supporting his chin with his right hand, apparently thinking about what she had to say. In fact the Commander would not interrupt Shorty at all, letting her finish the entire sales pitch, even though he had made up his mind quite early. Once she was done, her arm would remain extended and a short, awkward silence ensued as Nevyn appeared to think about the proposal. Alayna nervously tapped her foot on the floor, crossing her arms in front of her body while all eyes stared intensely at Shorty and Nevyn. Eventually, the Commander would finally break the deafening silence and extend his hand to politely shake Shorty’s.

”And you constructed that drone all by yourself?”

Shorty made sure to give Nevyn a firm grip, not trying to crush his hand, but to show that she’s not some dainty lass either. Sure Shorty is smaller than most humans and a girl to boot, but she didn’t last this long because she was soft and easy to push around. When he asked if she constructed the drone, Shorty made sure not to lie but take pride in her handiwork. "I modified a dwarven mining drone with additional weapons, armor, and improved performances. Usually they get tossed out after a few months of service, but I for one am not the type to throw away a perfectly serviceable machine, no matter how old it is.” That is to say, Shorty knew how to make the most out of things others would throw away. Though she also didn’t want to admit that she’s also just cheap and couldn’t afford to find/buy a better model to work off of. Still she was proud of what she could accomplish with so little.

”It is impressive.”

Nevyn replied. While he wasn’t much of an engineer himself, he could tell that the work was more than just superficially impressive. She might have been a diamond in the rough, waiting to get the right tools to shape and develop herself. The Commander pondered again for a moment, his eyes gazing over Shorty before darting towards the one empty seat on the support staff team. Of course, he was well aware of what had happened to the person that was supposed to be there. In a sense, the unit was getting revenge for the unjust killing of Jack by going after the silver-haired attacker. This is, however, when Alayna decided to step in. She did a very symbolic cough, trying to interrupt Nevyn and gain his attention.

”If I may, Commander-”

In response, Nevyn raised his eyebrow and assumed his thinking position again.

”I know what you are thinking. We have dozens- No, hundreds of applicants for the vacant seat. It is your choice ultimately, but please consider the very qualified applicants we already have that were recommended by the higher ups.

Nevyn nodded in acknowledgement but did not reply immediately. Instead, he looked directly at Shorty, using his amber eyes to directly stare into Shorty’s, practically piercing her with his stare. This went on for a few minutes before Nevyn closed his eyes, sighed, and put his hands in his pockets with his signature gentle but confident smile.

”I say let us give it a try. Just like the Agents need to prove themselves, let’s give Shorty a chance to prove herself.”

Nevyn raised his hand to point at the vacant seat next to the other supporting staff.

”Act as part of the support team for this mission and show me what you can do Shorty. If you can convince me with your actions then I will offer you a contract alongside Rokkit’s.”

"You have made the right choice, Commander." Shorty says with a confident smile. But deep inside she was freaking out and screaming. She had no idea that this would work, and she certainly didn't expect to immediately be in the job. Doing her best not to sweat she dismissed herself and followed Rokkit out to the lockers, but mostly just so she could brainstorm and figure out how to immediately be useful. She has no about this lady or what happened during the assassination, and knowing Rokkit they will end up fighting her in a few minutes, half an hour at most. So Shorty quickly left Bosco with Rokkit, explaining that she's going to be helping out as she goes to find somewhere to set up shop. Ideally using someone's computer.

Once Shorty and the other Agents had left towards the locker room, Alayna would quickly step in front of Nevyn to confront him.

”With all due respect- An unknown and untrained person in such an important position? That does not seem like a good choice, Commander.”

Nevyn responded with a reassuring smile.

”You know where she and Rokkit are from. She was able to build a drone like that basically from scrap. Imagine what she can do with proper tools and parts.”

After which Nevyn stepped aside, leaving the baffled Alayna in front of the conference area as he made his way to his office. The personal assistant would then quickly shake her head, brush off what just happened, and quickly join the supporting staff in monitoring the start of their first official mission.

Meanwhile, Rokkit went into the lockers to grab his things. He went to look for his locket, but wasn't really sure which one it was. He was still trying to learn how to read the basic language, and at best knows what his name is suppose to be spelled like. So when he eventually found his locker Rokkit door the door off and proceeded to grab his things. A headset, which he'd have to hammer into his helmet, a badge which he slapped on top of his armor, the PDA which he also just slapped onto his helmet, and a suit. It was a big one fitted for him, but Rokkit liked his armor as is, so he simply opted to take the pants and jacket and wrap it over his shoulders like a cape. This part he was having some difficulty with, since his hands weren't quite finesse enough to tie a knot and he was seriously debating just bolting his uniform to his armor, like everything else he had grabbed with him. "Goddamn humies making things hard fer an ork like me..."

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Yeah boi, we on an adventure now! Btw @Fading Memory when you say there's a dozen hostiles, do you mean around 12 bandits or 12 ships with bandits in them? Fran is assuming the latter.

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Knowing that they were entering dangerous lands, Fran remained ever vigilante as they traveled. She always kept her halberd on hand javelins ready in the even they were assailed by enemies from afar. Sure enough as they came across a tomb, there was also word that river pirates approached. They were vastly outnumbered, but also unseen, so the group had the tactical advantage of first move. Fran spoke up quickly, clearly, but quietly as to not alert any scouts of their presence. "We should take shelter within the tomb. While I've half a mind to investigate it for anything of use, I'm also not a graverobber and don't wished to be cursed for my greed. We should wait for the pirates to pass us, and then strike when they least expect it. I'd feel far less guilty taking the ill-gotten gains of those those ruffians than plundering a gravesite."

While Fran was no rogue, she felt she could reasonably stay hidden. Though if anyone could assist her in that regard, she'd be very much grateful. "If possible, we should try and conceal our presence with any spells, if available. At the very least it should be placed on those of us who'll attempt to raid the ships. We should try and take on the flag ship, to cut off the head of the beasts before the rest can rally. Without their leadership the craven would scatter and those left would be without their strongest or smartest members to guide them." Fran has done similar assaults with Astrea before. When dealing with the likes of bandits, they may seem fearsome and intimidating, but once you take out their leadership many of the lower ranks will lose morale. Even if they stay and fight, they're usually much weaker than their leaders, making them less of a threat even in numbers. Even so Fran does have to keep in mind that their leader is no doubt at the center of the crew, so reaching him would be easier said than done. And if they don't defeat him quickly, they'll just find themselves surrounded from all sides. So they needed to attack fast in a coordinated matter.

Delta End

ROKKIT MECHEAD

SHORTY GROTSKY

---

I couldn't wait for you to come clear the cupboards
But now you're going to leave with nothing but a sign
Another evening I'll be sitting reading in between your lines
Because I miss you all the time

Music began to blare in the warehouse. Grumbles of complaints was punctuated with the clattering of tools and pans. From a pile of broken couches and tossed off cloth, a hulking giant arose. A loud grunt was all was needed before someone approached him holding a plate with some food on it. Piles of XXL Burritos, fresh from the vending machine. Those grots even took the consideration of removing them from the wrapper first before the green-skinned man took a bite into it. A thin soft tortilla wrapped around a slurry of synth meat and tomato sauce, flavored with cheese-based seasoning. To anyone who knew what food was, this was a mockery of a meal, more smoothie than food.

But for Rokkit, this was breakfast all the same.

Finishing his plate within seconds, the warehouse was already abuzz with life. Children running about getting ready for the day, some of them even bothering to wash up. The factory's machines were already cranking out parts for guns and bullets, with a few children at work putting things together or loading up boxes. Rokkit lended no hand helping the grots, partly because he knew to let them do their work, mostly because he couldn't be arsed to do such menial labor. There was other work that needed to be done first. To that end, Rokkit went to find the biggest of the grots, their leader Shorty. Despite being the oldest and biggest, she was barely knee-high to Rokkit, though it doesn't help that the ork would easily be over 8-feet tall, if he didn't slouch so much.

Barely any words needed to be exchanged between the two. Rokkit wasn't one for explaining himself, and Shorty knew enough from her harsh life in the streets to guess people's thoughts and intentions before they could lie about it. So when Rokkit met his little second-in-command, she was already ready with some work for him. "Morning boss. Might be interested in this one. Word is that there's a samurai on the run. Stole some preem tech. Big bounty on his head, could use the coin. Already sent his last location to you." Shorty handed Rokkit his helmet. Prior to coming here, it was just a normal helmet, but ever since working with these grots, Rokkit has felt like a boss. He's got his own group of minions making him stuff, he's got plenty of enemies to fight, and he's got the respect of anyone he cares to not kill. This place was paradise.

But for an ork, paradise means conflict. And in a conflict, there is a struggle. His home, if it could be called that, was but one of many warehouses in the 5th pillar. While most are actually used and owned by businesses, plenty more were abandoned and turned into camps or bases by the homeless, or criminal. And those folks always were looking to expand their sphere of influence, often by force. And it was Rokkit's job to make sure they knew their place. With the street as untamed as the 5th, Rokkit couldn't rest on his laurels if he wanted to maintain his comfortable life style. He'd have to go out of his way to crack some heads, and remind people that his place wasn't open for business.

After donning his helmet and grabbing his gear, Rokkit would first head out of his home and seek out that samurai. Samurai were corporate warriors, different from typical security guards in that they're specialized for fighting, often protecting VIP's or alternatively, killing rival ones. Different from a typical Handler, they work solely within their company's interest, not for money, and don't hire themselves out as such. So hearing that one had ran away with stolen tech must've meant a lot to this samurai. Rokkit was about to find out how much it was worth it to him.

The information that Shorty gave Rokkit was a bit outdated. Unsurprisingly, the samurai had already left the area. But not before leaving a mess behind. About twenty different corpses scattered about. Some seemed to have a theme going on so chances are quite a few gangs showed up to collect the bounty, but nearly all the bodies were chopped up. Meanwhile their guns were scattered around, some of them even usable still. That told Rokkit that these guys didn't even have a chance to shoot each other up. That Samurai made quick work of them. Not that it impressed Rokkit. Most gangs in the city weren't nearly as tough as some of the folks Rokkit grew up fighting. They were all flash and no dakka. Most of these corpses weren't even teched out, so Rokkit figured they were just fodder who were in over their heads.

The more important thing was trying to find out where the Samurai went. For this Rokkit needed to pay attention to his surroundings. He was in a back-alley area, with only two ways in. Most of the bodies were piled up at the largest entrance, meaning that they all were charging in before the samurai cut them down. The fact only one side was full of corpses while the other was untouched made Rokkit think the samurai ran that way, but then he stopped. He mentally thought about how this Samurai would've killed these gangers. Not a shot fired, and he could've have given anyone of them a chance to even get a bead on him. If he had ran down this ally to them, there should've been bullet holes. But there isn't. And in fact from the way the bodies fell Rokkit realized that the Samurai had attacked the gang from behind.

"Hmph. Clever git. Lead em right into a trap, thinkin dey can ambush em, but he's be da one doin da ambushin."

So the Samurai cuts them down from behind, but doesn't bother to stay. The path ahead was still clear so there was an obvious way he could've ran. But knowing that this place was going to be full of bounty hunters soon, if he took the obvious path he would just get boxed in. No, that samurai has to be smarter than that. Rokkit looked up. Loose pipes, broken cement walls, a shoe print on a windowpane. The Samurai went up. And Rokkit would soon follow.

Flexing his klaw, Rokkit clamped onto the wall and lunched himself upwards towards the rooftops. He jumped from one wall to another, stepping onto window stills, pipping, and aircons to the top. Despite crushing pretty much everything he came into contact with, the big brute was easily able to climb and jump his way up. But what he found was disappointing. Another dead body, but this one was different from the others. First of all, it was missing a head. But more importantly, this body was stuffed with advance cybernetics. Nothing that Rokkit could use considering his alien physiology, but this corpse wasn't a regular gangster. Flipping the body over, Rokkit took a picture of the corpse and sent the info back to Shorty. Not long after she confirms that this was the samurai.

"Dammit. Sum git got to em fer I did. Now dis whole damn thing's a waste of me time."

Rokkit hated wasting time. He checked the body for anything of worth and when he didn't, he began to tear out the cybernetic parts from the corpse. He was sure the grots could do something with it. Either way he returned back to his warehouse with naught much to show for it except an armful of limbs. Along the way he ran into a couple of grifters. Bunch of homeless men posing as veterans of some war that Rokkit never bothered to remember, and was pretty sure was a lie anyways. They were harmless to him, but always bothered his grots, so all Rokkit did was toss a bloodied pair of arms at the group and force them to scatter.

"Pft. Not even worth da dakka. Bunch of gits."

Returning to base, Rokkit vented his frustration on his punching bag. A heavy duty sack made from various nanofiber weaves patched together. It would almost be useful armor, if it wasn't full of holes from where Rokkit's claw and knuckles would break it. Rokkit was really eager to have gone up against a samurai, having heard a lot of tales about their combat prowess. He had imagined an epic brawl between his claw versus a Samurai's sword, a clash of steel in a stone jungle. With Rokkit showing off his finesse, and the samurai matching the ork's strength with his own. Alas, it was all but a fantasy. Rokkit gave his bag an impressive five punch combo, but it didn't mean anything unless he got to use it in a real fight.

"Hey boss, I know that last one was a fecking disappointment, but I got another lead. Or rather uh, a reminder. We got that meeting today, remember? Over by the 2nd." Shorty approached Rokkit wearing a different outfit from what she usually wears. Normally she's dressed in dirtied rags, not because she's poor, but because she often works on the line with the other kids. And putting together metal parts was a messy job. But this time Shorty cleaned up. She had taken a shower and put on some office attire. Granted, they were approximately what an office woman would wear, if she was a three-foot tall goblin. No one made office attire for children, and custom ordering them even through Clint's Clothes was far more than what Shorty would be willing to pay for. So she improvised using some clothes she picked out from the thrift store and were donated to a local church. She could reasonably pass off as an office worker from a distance, baring the fact she was shorter than most women and wasn't wearing shoes. Shorty never liked shoes and tried to make her pantyhose look like she was wearing flats from a distance.

As for Rokkit, he was just going to go in his usual armor. He couldn't be arsed to dress nice and even if he had to, his armor was the nicest clothes he got. Plus he knew about this job Shorty was talking about and he wasn't about to go there looking like some pansy git. They needed a warrior, and they were going to get one. So once Shorty had gotten her things together, the two would leave towards their meeting.

Rokkit got the call for this new job after a particularly harrowing fight against some twisted monster. Now, Rokkit was no stranger to fighting strange and dangerous xeno, but this thing was different from a nid or even warp demon. No amount of bullets seemed to phase it and it moved like a fourth-dimensional object. It was only when Rokkit smashed it with his claw that it seemed to do any meaningful damage, and that wasn't easy. He still won, but the whole experience left him bewildered. Shortly after he was contacted to join some security organization. Rokkit figured this would be a getter gig than just cruising the 5th looking for a fight, and if this means fighting more extra-dimensional monsters, he was all for it.

Shorty however had a more practical outlook. Working in the 2nd pillar means opening doors for her and the kids to move to the 2nd pillar, where she can get them an actual job and education. The money they made here running guns were barely enough to give everyone their daily bread. They're competing against professional gun runners who made military grade things. And clever as they were to make these pipe guns that pack a punch, they just pack the infrastructure to make this viable long term. And Shorty would rather make sure the kids get regular jobs, with regular stability, than risk their life's on the street. This was Shorty's chance at escaping provety in the 5th, which was why she was going with Rokkit and making sure he gets the job. What's good for him is good for her.

Getting out of the 5th was a bit easier said than done though. Lots of foot traffic to get through the streets, let alone the hell that was the early morning train. There was a saying in the fifth: early is on time, on time is late, and late is gone. And unfortunately Rokkit and Shorty we're "on time", meaning if they waited in line they would be late to their meeting. And while Rokkit doesn't care, Shorty didn't want to give a bad impression. "Hey boss, let's skip the line. Picked up chatter that there's a meet 'n greet not too far from here. What say we catch a ride?"

"Heh. Beats standing around like sum knob. Aight, lead da way, Shorty."

On the street, meet 'n greets were just another name for a drug deal, typically a small one. Could be as quick as a hand off or a long negotiation. Shorty had picked up a meet n greet that has gone longer than it should, and Rokkit was going to investigate. Sure enough this deal went south: couple of dead gangers, and a lot more civilian folk. There were still a few hangers left picking through the dead. "Crimson Lion. Fancy name for a bunch of low-rank thugs. Still look at their ride." Shorty pointed out the Crimson Lion's sweet street racer. With a reflective ruby paint job, striking lion decal, and blazing white underglow, it was a classic example of gangster excess. Rokkit wanted it.

There was five gangers, three picking bodies, one trying to break into a vending machine, and one actually watching. Rokkit and Shorty needed to get through all of them to get to that car. That's when Shorty revealed her hand: a small drone named Bosco. She went to find a secure spot to sit while she has Bosco stealth and hack into the vending machine. It spilled out a bunch of cash to distract one of the gangers. At the same time Shorty did a remote hack on the car's radio, causing it to go a bit crazy. This would distract the only gabger watching. And finally, for the big show. With two hangers sufficiently distracted Bosco went to the three Gangers looting the dead and broke out the gas. It began to fill the area, causing those caught within to tear up as the chemicals caused their eyes and throat to swell.

It was a little bit of chaos. Before any of the gangers could realize this was an attack, Rokkit struck. First he landed on the Crimson Lion looting the vending machine. He pounced like a tiger, dropping the thug by grabbing his head and slamming it into the cement. Next he ran into the chemical cloud. Rokkit's helmet was hermantically sealed, protecting him from the tear gas as he ripped apart the three wannabes before they could even draw iron. The last one realized something was up and took out his gun, a hefty little smg, and sprayed into the cloud. But too little too late. Rokkit was already gone, stepping around cover to blast the last survivor to giblets. One shot from Rokkit's gun ripped off the gangsters arm. A second blew off a leg. The last turned the torso into chunky salsa, scattering gore across the alley.

All this done in less than a minute. Bosco went to gather up the left over guns and drugs. "Immunosupressors. Used to prevent ODing on tech, which ironically means it's wanted by junkies who want to push their limits. Not useful for us but we can hawk this easy." Shorty says as she grabs a case. Rokkit wasn't paying attention and was already in the car. Normally even cheap cars needed a physical key to work, and Rokkit couldn't be arsed to find one. And a car this nice also had some digital locks and such to ensure that you couldnt just wire the car or steal the key either. But none of that mattered to Rokkit. All he needed to do was hit the dash with his claw and suddenly the whole thing roared to life. Shorty dove into the backseat just as Rokkit slammed on the gas, blasting out of the alley and into the streets.

Racing through the streets of the 5th, Rokkit and Shorty we're making good time to reach the meeting place. The only time they stopped was to get through the check points, which Rokkit begrudgingly did once he figures out how to slow the car down. But once he was allowed back on the road he wasted no time speeding up, tearing through alleys, and even preforming some complex manuevers on a busy intersection. Whatever shaves off a few seconds on his drive. Shorty was absolutely terrified and needed to vomit into a backpack full of old take-out, and desperately wishes she had taken the train instead.

By the time they reached the 2nd pillar, Rokkit had to ditch the car. Shorty was glad to be back on her feet and made a mental note never to join Rokkit for a ride every again. Her outfit was a bit of a mess so she had to do some spot cleaning, and she had to figure out where to go from here. Neither she nor Rokkit had ever been to the 2nd pillar. They've seen some of it on the news but never took a tour or anything. So Shorty needed to pull up the info on her Holo Display and get directions. "Alright, just a little walk. Boss just um… Just remember that this is business, see, so we gotta be a bit professional."

"Bah, it ain't dat difficult Shorty. It's just 'nother gig ta krump some gits and otha wetwork. Wotever planz dey got ain't nothin ta do with you or me. I ain't goin ere ta call shots or nuthin. Just a hired dakka."

"Well… Alright boss. Just want to make sure you know what to expect." The two free skins head over to the tall building. There was a section blocked off, apparently this was where that assassination occured. A lot of talk back in the 5th that this was a hit carried out by one of the gangs, but this was just talk. Though Shorty was curious about it, Rokkit just wondered how he'd fare in a surprise attack. He made him grin: even though the 2nd was suppose to be safe, stuff like this could happen. It means he'll never be bored even if he does hang out in this place.

Rokkit entered the building, his feet stomping into the clean mopped floors. He couldnt look more out of place if he tried. Shorty followed after, carrying a suit case to look professional even though it was filled with stolen drugs, her drone, and a her lunch. Shorty also ran into another problem she knew she was going to have to get used to: being too short to be seen over tables and countertops. "IXth SU δ Division." Shorty would say clear and loudly. After getting the directions, the dynamic duo would squeeze into an elevator and reach the meeting area. Lots of colorful characters here. Rokkit was eager to see how these folks hold up, while Shorty was quick to blend into the background and take a more analytical approach.

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

I live.

Delta End

The Brawn

Name: Rokkit Mechead

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Anima: Da Hacka - An orkish power klaw infused with Aetherial energies that make it into a powerful Anima. Not only does its pneumatic pistons allow it to crush and rip through conventional armor with fearful ease, the blades are sheathed in energy that allows it to destabilize physical and magical matter for extra armor piercing properties. But it's true power is its ability to sink the claws into any vehicle and allow Rokkit to forcefully take control, even if the vehicle in question is already being operated, isn't turned on, or something Rokkit doesn't actually know how to operate normally.

Personality: Boisterous and belligerent. He and his kind are known for their rough personalities and often find themselves fighting against all sorts of people, leading short violent lives. But what Rokkit differs from most of his kind is his own will to look further into the future than just the next battle, wanting to leave a legacy and change things for the better in the future. And while he shares the temperament of his kin, Rokkit himself is also quite sociable and dislikes having to be alone, though at the same time when he’s busy working he hates distractions.

Alignment: Chaotic Good. Rokkit knows that cooperation and rules are needed to maintain some semblance of order in this chaotic world, but he merely sees them as tools, not restrictions. If they get in the way of what he wants he’ll gladly ignore them to do what he needs to do. However ultimately his desire is to do good for himself, his friends, and his people. He is willing to stoop to all kinds of lows as well as uphold promises he hates if it means succeeding.

Backstory: Rokkit is an Ork from another world, one where a dark fate awaits all those who suffer to live in it. But such a grimdark world does little to dampen the mood of the jovial and psychotically violent orks. Rokkit comes from the Scraplootahs tribe, a group known for their unconventional ways even for orks. Rokkit himself is part of the tribes Kommando troops, orks with a penchant for stealth and ambushes. Trained under the Chief Kommando Rockeata Brugg, Rokkit got his name for sneaking into an enemy warship by hitching a ride on a rocket, crashing into the hull, and raising hell while inside long enough for the rest of the tribe to board and take over the vessel.

While Rokkit enjoys a good scrap like any Ork, he does enjoy the thrill of a hunt, sneaking past enemies and quickly and efficiently assassinating them in the most violently brutal manner possible. But sometimes he doesn't feel like being subtle, but there's only so much an Ork can do with two hands and his lungs. And so often, Rokkit also dabbles in operating the various war trucks his tribe has, and gains the skills to use vehicles in both land and air to do death defying stunts as well as in heavy combat. His favorite technique is known as the Drift Shot, where he enables his vehicle's momentum to keep him moving forward while he violently twists his position so he can get a better angle on the enemy, often when they're pursuing him. This allows him to go from being on the defensive to offensive at a moment's notice.

Rarely there's much going on in an orks life that isn't fighting or preparing for a fight. The idea of peace for an Ork is entirely different for a human. No Ork settles down to raise a family, to put aside their weapons and live a long and boring life. But still, there are times where there isn't any fights to be had and brawling against your fellow Ork loses its touch. And so Rokkit has learned other hobbies to keep himself occupied, in particular music. Loud, thumping music, to keep his blood hit even when it's not being spilled. He favors the drums, an appropriately brutish instrument for an Ork. But there is a level of technique and skill needed to truly master the drums and Rokkit is eager to master it. He's even taken time to train his voice for singing and shouting, though he is considerably less skilled in this than he is in drumming.

Life for an Ork is nothing if not chaotic, and the same applies to Rokkit. While the Scraplootahs were chasing down a band of Chaos Marines, Rokkit was wandering around looking for something to fight. Instead he found something to loot. There was a big dead alien, and stuck in it's skull was a wicked looking powa klaw. Rokkit didn't know who it belonged to, but it was way choppier than his own, so Rokkit willingly removed his own arm to attach it with the mysterious claw.

It was then that something really strange happened. Rokkit was taken to another world! Everything was a blur but suddenly he found himself in an unknown city full of unknown people. At first Rokkit tried to be sneaky, but out of his depth and out of familiar territory he stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But soon he started making some unlikely allies, and plenty of enemies, and ultimately the Ork felt right at home in the city of Soma.

Additional information:
Rokkit is missing his right arm, having lost it during a battle against Tyranids. For a while he had an axe replace the stump until he found his Animus. He's rather dexterous with his power klaw, though it does still have a fairly limited range of motion.

Additionally Rokkit is rarely ever out of his armor except when he needs to repair it. He finds his armored plates more comfortable to wear than without, though this does have the side effect of having weird tan-lines if he ever does take off his armor.

Has a taste for coffee and human cuisine, and has committed many raids just to steal food. Though he likes Ork food too, and misses it since he hasn't had real Ork food since he arrived on this planet. He likes sandwiches in particular.

Doesn't understand human money and lacks any digital bank record. He prefers to trades or barters for everything, though he at least understands the importance of having physical cash as well. Even if he isn't good at counting it. Rokkit collects teef, though since no one takes them as legal tender he tends to collect teef for sentimental reasons.

Rokkit's hobbies include working on his equipment, his bike, playing the drums, learning how to sing, and boxing. Boxing in particular is something he's quite fascinated by since most orks don't bother with the sort of precision techniques boxers have, but Rokkit is eager to learn how to fight like them. Though most gyms don't let him since his right arm is a giant mechanical claw.

Equipment

Aside from his Animus, Rokkit has a stash of equipment he has brought he made for his own use. Though not a full-fledged mekboy, he's generally capable of scrapping together his own gear and ammo, though he prefers to delegate the more tedious tasks to his grots, such as making bullets or repairing his armor.

Road Warrior - An Ork slugga, an automatic handgun. Though it's more accurate to say that this is an automatic shotgun. A drum fed rifle shortened to be easily carried by Rokkit, his natural orkish strength enables him to use this weapon with one hand without compromising on it's firepower, compensating his poor accuracy by saturating his enemies with a rain of buckshot. He can change his ammo to slugs for better accuracy or other specialized ammo if he has any available. He also has a bayonet attached underneath the barrel to use it as a deadly melee weapon in close-quarters combat. Still looking to upgrade his weapon for additional power.

Fire Light - An additional firearm that Rokkit attaches to his Animus. Connected to a gas tank on his back, the Fire Light is a flamethrower that benches out molten napalm to melt foes trying to hide behind cover or swarm Rokkit. While it has even poorer range than his Road Warrior, the Fire Light has the benefit of being highly effective against large mobs or swarms. Indeed, Rokkit had this weapon made when he had a rough experience fighting Tyranids, alien bug monsters who tend to attack in massive swarms. A great shock weapon as well, it's part of Rokkit "Hack and Burn" technique, where (contrary to the name order) he will ambush his enemies by drenching them in burning napalm before hacking them apart with his klaw.

'Eavy Armor - Rokkit wears an orkish set of heavy armor made of some composite ceramic material. He frankly doesn't know the details of what it's made of, but knows that it's more or less the same stuff space marine armor is made of, so he considers it to be pretty tough. Unlike many of his kin who's armor look fairly scrappy and cobbled together, Rokkit 'Eavy Armor almost looks uniform. He just likes the look. Rokkit's helmet is fancier than the rest of his armor, as it's built airtight with filtration to protect him from toxic gas and let him breathe underwater. The visor is also fitted with a thermal sensor allowing him to see creatures via their heat signatures, handy in darkness or heavy smoke.

Lucky Teeth - Decorating Rokkit's body are various bands with teeth on them. Each one coming from an Ork or alien he had defeated in the past, he considers them good luck as they represent enemies he has been victorious against. Most humans don't have interesting enough teeth for warrant removal, so Rokkit would instead opt to just take skulls instead.

Kerberos - Rokkit's war trike. Three wheels, three engines, three guns, the Kerberos is fast and deadly… If Rokkit can get it to work. As skilled as Rokkit is in tinkering, even his abilities have limits and so far he has a hard time getting the Kerberos to ride longer than a few minutes. He figures he just needs better materials but until he can figure out what he needs, the Kerberos remain inoperable.

Grots and Associates

Orks don't have a word for friends and even if they use the human word for it, it doesn't really apply to most or not all of them. Orks being so belligerent and violent that they barely tolerate each other's presence, even Rokkit barely feels close to anyone to call them a friend. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have some functional, mostly positive relationships with others in this new world.

The Grots - What Rokkit calls a gang of orphans who more or less work for him. He had inadvertently saved them from some traffickers when Rokkit was looking for weapons to loot, killing the slavers since they were armed and gladly accepted the children to do manual labor he couldn't be arsed to do. In exchange he has also taught them his orkish ways, and they have quickly picked up on how to make things orky, making a majority of them skilled gunsmiths and explosive experts. They live at the warehouse he's currently squatting in and for the most part he doesn't mind sharing the space since he's rarely there anyways.

Hunta - Rokkit's pet squig hound. Unknown to Rokkit, it has been experimented on to give it a goblin's brain, increasing its intelligence but also making it less aggressive by having a goblin's cowardice. Thus it rarely actually hunts on its own, preferring to let Rokkit do all the work. However if sufficiently motivated it can be quite dangerous. More or less takes care of the Grots when Rokkit isn't around since they fear and respect him, often feeding him and going to him when they're in trouble. This gives Hunta a massive confidence boost enough that he's usually willing to fight despite being a coward. Is inadvertently growing more squigs in his nest, which gets cultivated by the Grots.

Gun Master - An arms dealer who doesn't use his real name, so Rokkit calls him the Gun Master. Tough as nails and a crack shot, one of the few humans Rokkit respects and thus does business with him, trading guns and ammo with him. The Gun Master is one of the few arms dealers who can get bullets that satisfy Rokkit's needs.

Lucy Sclera - A bartender who works at the Lost Dog bar on the fifth pillar. Friendly and sociable as any bartender worth their salt tends to be. Rokkit often goes to her for drinks since she's one of the only bartenders who's willing to trade drinks for whatever plunder he has on hand, though in turn he takes the courtesy to at least pay her in cash whenever he has any. She's also Rokkit's go-to gal for information on any work or mark he happens to be working on at the moment. She introduced him to the idea of sandwiches and makes his favorite, roasted chicken and marinara.

Yozakura-Gumi - A criminal organization that deals with the typical criminal enterprises, such as drugs, guns, gambling, and prostitution. Though they're only criminal in order to undercut the legitimate corporations who also run similar businesses: medicine, law-enforcement, investments, and entertainment media. Bigger than most street gangs but lacking the means to rival corporations, Rokkit has earned their favor doing many jobs for them, and in turn they support him by keeping his home relatively safe and buying the guns his Grots make.


Tetsugo Jinzo


The chairman of the Yozakura-Gumi, a formidable warrior who has carved a place for his clan through strength and violence. However such means can only go so far, and right now his clan suffers due to their inability to do much more than to provide a protection racket within their territory. Thus he's been focusing on trying to get his clan involved in more profitable ventures, however he finds this difficult due to the stranglehold rival corporations have on the market. While he leads a criminal organization, Jinzo desperately wishes to turn the Yozakura-Gumi into a legitimate business to bring his people out from a life of crime. But he's willing to resort to whatever means he can to make that happen.


Mr. Shadows - Someone or something that helped Rokkit figure out how this new world works, though the Ork desperately wishes he never knew the guy. A mysterious and frightening entity who has demonstrated strange dark powers that Rokkit has never seen before. While he hasn't done anything to harm Rokkit it's abundantly clear that he is far more powerful than he presents himself, and now Rokkit owes him a favor. A common saying about him is "He's in every shadow."

Picture:

The Brains

Name. Shorty Grotsky

Age. 16

Gender. Female

Anima. None

Personality. Optimistic and crafty. Shortie knows that the world is a rough place, with kindness in rare supply, but she's always willing to look towards the silver lining. But that's not to say that she's so naive as to accept every handout, and she knows that everything comes at a price. She aims to work hard to earn her keep and never catch herself in debt to another. Can be rather greedy though and overestimates her own intelligence. While Shortie may not be able to cross most lines, if she does something she'll never regret it.

Alignment. Lawful Neutral. Shortie has a code and she sticks to it. That doesn't mean that she nice, but also means that she has standards. She can be very pragmatic in both her personal and business life, willing to use people who'll be useful and abandon them once they lose their usefulness, but she'll make sure that as long as they hold their own they'll have her full support. She's willing to make the hard decisions that no one else wants but has to be done.

Backstory.
Shorty Grotsky was born an orphan, her parents being killed off by vindictive Handlers hired to "deal with" the goblins living in their neighborhood. Shorty herself was saved only because her father had managed to hide her in someone's car before he himself was gunned down. The folks who found Shorty in their car put her into an orphanage, where much of Shorty's life was made. It was called the Big Scrap Alley, a junkyard converted into an orphanage for children. The owner was a strange man called Fixit, a large greasy fellow who most folks would think shouldn't ever be near children alone. His questionable intelligence certainly made people think less of him. But Fixit was an honest, kind man, more than willing to take care of the orphans and teach them usable life skills. To Shorty, Fixit was basically her father.

Being a goblin, Shorty matured both physically and mentally faster than the other orphans, and thanks to Fixit she received something of an education that quickly allowed her to develop better skills. It wasn't long before Shorty more-or-less became the second in command in the orphanage, even if not by age, but due to her talents as an engineer and general maturity. She helped Fixit run the orphanage, and even got sponsorships that helped make it a better place for the kids to live. For a while, life was good.

But success draws people who want an unfair share. It wasn't long before gangs began to approach the orphanage, offering "protection" against the various dangers in the city. Shorty knew it was a trick but Fixit didn't, and inadvertently accepted the gang's deal for protection in exchange for money and orphans to join their gang. When Shorty found out she tried her best to stop it, but the gangs made it clear that they intended to essentially take over the orphanage, siphon whatever money was coming into it, and recruiting the kids as gang members whether they want to or not. When Shorty revealed this scheme to Fixit, he was distraught and furious. In a rage, he created weapons and armor and fought back against the gangs, but died in the process. Shorty had to run away with the remaining children during the fight.

For a few more years Shorty and the children lived on the streets, doing odd jobs to stay alive. Shorty had to harden her heart against the sort of things that can happen to orphans and people in the slum parts of town, and after the second orphan child died under her watch, she stopped being so nice to them in order to keep them alive. She fought tooth and nail for survival but it was almost never enough, always occurring loses that only let them live long enough to continue struggling. There were many times Shorty wanted to just give up and go on her own, so that she could at least take care of herself.

But a miracle happened one day. She and the orphans were being chased down by some gangsters intending to sell them into slavery, and despite her best efforts Shorty was caught off guard without her best weapons. It looked like it was going to be the end for her when suddenly, a huge ork appeared and slaughtered the gangsters, stealing their weapons and money, and just left without even acknowledging them. Afterwards Shorty went to get her gear and looked for that ork, and when they found him she asked if she could work with him. He was the only person who's ever done something good for her without asking, just like Fixit, and he didn't mind working with them as long as they followed his orders and never worked against him.

Since then things have been looking up. They managed to secure a warehouse to live in, and been gathering scrap and materials to make it comfortable. The ork taught Shorty and the kids how to make weapons in a surprisingly imaginative way. Soon Shorty herself was taking over production, with the kids finally able to do some work that'll earn them some real money. Not wanting this life to go away Shorty worked hard to keep everyone safe, even the ork, developing weapons and equipment to protect everyone and profit from the various gangs that want to genuinely cooperate with them.

Additional information.

Currently Shorty leads a band of orphans known collectively as the Grots. She is the oldest among them and the youngest is ten years old. There are twenty of them, most who stay at the warehouse to work, relax, or play, but some of the older kids do try and go out and do more things. Shorty spends most of her time just keeping them out of trouble but when she puts her foot down they know when to listen and stop messing around. While they have all gone through the horrors of street life, most don't have the stomach for real violence and prefer to live in relative peace.

Picked up on orkish engineering quickly and teaches the rest of the children how to do it as well. Quite intelligent and sees Rokkit as an opportunity to get herself and her friends out from poverty. She handles the logistics and organization within the Grots and their home, making sure Rokkit never has to get involved in managing things less she lose control of the operation.

Has a weak tolerance for alcohol and a sweet tooth. She avoids drugs and other intoxicants after seeing how it can lead to a slippery slope of addiction that can make her fall into the same traps as other women who sought them as a means to deal with their personal problems. The worse she goes for is coffee. And the good stuff too.

Though she's tough and scrappy, Shorty knows she's not the greatest in a fight. Even if she has all of her gear with her simply being smaller than most young humans puts her at a sever physical disadvantage, and thus while she can take a hit and is good with a gun she'd rather avoid direct conflict if she can help it. And if she has to fight, she prefers to do so via proxy.

Shorty maintains most equipment at the warehouse and does the final check on all gear to make sure they will work well when they get sold to the gangs. Angry customers are bad enough, a whole gang of them is even worse. Aside from that Shorty likes watching TV dramas and anime. She also dances and wished she could find a dance crew willing to work with a goblin. Her dream is to one day become a mech pilot.

Equipment

Bosco - Bosco is Shorty's primary weapon. A dwarven mining drone that has been upgraded with stealth tech and guns, it's is capable of flying and is surprisingly tough despite it's small size. It's main purpose however is as a scouting tool. It's capable of cloaking itself to turn invisible to the naked eye. It's flight systems have also been adjusted to make little to no noise. It has it's heat and electronic signatures suppressed so it doesn't get picked up by radar, and to top it off it's arms come equipped with the tools needed to hack into machines and computers digitally, enabling it to disable surveillance networks. It has it's own radar in order to keep track of enemies, allies, and other entities as needed. It's radar range is effectively 1 mile, enabling it to track things within that range with great precision.

As for combat, it can shoot short-range electrical darts that can be used to either disable machines or electrocute people. As long as the darts make contact, it can bypass things like armor or hyper dense muscles to overload the nerve receptors to force them to spasm. Another emergency weapon it can use is releasing a large cloud of capsaicin irritant, which naturally as a machine it's unaffected by, but it can do a lot against organic targets who aren't properly protected. And finally if neither weapons are effective and it's at risk of being captured, Bosco can activate a self-destruct sequence where it overloads it's batteries to explode in a huge ball of plasma, melting itself and anyone else caught in the blast.

Omniwrench - Whether it's fixing a phone or breaking some bones, the Omniwretch is Shorty's signature weapon. As it's name implies it is a wrench that can be adjusted not only in shape but size, enabling it to serve as an all-around tool for repair jobs. It can even be converted into other tools such as hammers, prybars, knives, clamps, or a screwdriver. If she has a battery to charge it she can even use features such as an electric saw, power drill, jackhammer, or nailgun.

Ratel 454 Custom - A tiny gun that packs a big punch. Originally Ratel 454 are revolver pistols designed in mind for small races and children to be able to pack a weapon capable of considerable damage per shot with a reasonably size and weight ratio. As a ballistic weapon it's considered a novelty as it's over designed with safety features meant to use a large caliber bullet, which still pales compared to larger hand cannons that are more designed for larger marksmen. But Shorty uses the Ratel and it's abundant safety features and converted her revolver to shoot plasma cartridges instead of bullets, making it far more devastating than it should be. The secret to how she manages to both fit and make sure the plasma doesn't leak is a trade secret, though Shorty admits that making the ammo is expensive and thus she tends not to use it unless she absolutely has to.

Picture.

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

a lil shorty of a post, but there we go. Let's party!

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

After dropping off her weapon at the smith's, Fran took some time to relax. Her quest would no doubt be full of tension and terror, and if she spent every waking moment stressing over the situation she would snap. She took the time to find a room available, handing her traveling attire to be washed and went to bathe. Even a simple cold-water wipe down was soothing to the young knight. Noble as she may be now, she hasn't forgotten the rigors of life as a squire, living in relative squalor both in civilization and outside of it. It thus makes simple things like a bucket of clean water to wipe herself down with feel like an absolute luxury compared to wallowing in her own stink for days on end. After cleansing herself, Fran ate a simple meal of stew and wine before she went back to the smith and received her weapon.

Taking her halberd back, Fran gave it a few practice swings. It flexed but did not bend, it struck hard but not stiff. Though a mundane weapon of mortal steel, Fran knew the importance of keeping one's blade well maintained. She made a note to take better care of her halberd from now on, knowing that this was still her duty even if she wasn't a squire. As Fran was leaving she received a message that the first of the heroes called by the Princess was leaving. She was to join the entourage quickly. With a firm nod, Fran gathered her belongings, changing into her now cleaned traveling clothes and went to join the others.

Truth be told, Fran felt a bit out of place. Though she recognized a few folk here such as Ser Pyke and his squire Tomas, everyone else was unfamiliar, many of them not even human. It brought a somewhat dark thought to Fran: the Dales were suffering from weakness, and this weakness makes them an easy prey to their neighbors. As much as they were all brought together so long ago under the guiding hand of Prince Braedan, that was ancient history. Their current situation was bleak, and it has always been a worry to Fran that those outside of the Dale may try and attack them for what resources their lands could provide. Food, wealth, people. But Fran shook these thoughts off. If she thought of these people as her rivals or enemies, they would never be able to fix the problems plaguing their world. Approaching the gathered group Fran gave a sharp salute, a strong smile, and made sure to look at everyone here, be they fellow knights or even what seems to be orphaned children.

"Greetings and well met. I am Ser Francesca Varangian. I have served the Kingdom of the Dales for over twenty years, first as a squire and now as a knight. Whatever foe we face, I promise you that I will face them with you. My blade will protect the innocent and slay the guilty. I am pleased to be traveling in such company."

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Should I post? I know I was the last one before the current DM post, so not sure if I should do so again or wait for everyone else to respond first.

Aesithas (D&D 5e Homebrew) - On Hiatus

Got me an 8 and a 15. Let's get this ball rolling.