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hanzoName: Post Captain Hamelin Le Marinier
Gender: Male
Age: 42
Nationality: Favis
Appearance: A taller man and bearded to hide the Scars from his injuries that caused his active retirement. Right eye is glass or an eyepatch depending on comfort and part of his right hand is a mechanical prostatic from a blast injury.
Has a number of miscellaneous scars from said explosion on his right side.
Personal Effects:
.455 Favis Heavy pattern Navy Revolver
Favis Diplomatic papers
Old Riggers Knife and spike.
Silver plated hip flask with Whiskey.
Navy wool overcoat.
1 glass right eye, 1 eye patch, 1 Right partial hand prosthetic
A folded bundle of small maps and a simple small metal compass.
History:
What is your job:
Former active Naval gunnery Officer and Diplomatic mission staffer from Favis..
Born into a long family of sailors from pirates to merchants and even the odd privateer down the family history it was almost expected that he would serve, sail in some way related to the sea. Hamelin did not disappoint and joined the Favis Navy as a junior midshipman when the chance was first available.
Though minor nobility their Title meant little more than a long family history, a coat of arms and a large home that cost too much to heat but they also refused to sell, a sense of pride and also the old stone building had withstood the centuries as their protector from storms, conflict and more unnumbered. It was this family that shaped the officer who rose in the Royal Flavis Navy, showing promise and being assigned first as a navigation officer until his real talent as a gunnery commander was revealed.
Success began to follow success until he was aboard the heavy dreadnought class, Hammer of Vich', a large ship clad in iron and steel, mounting the heaviest and most powerful armaments Flavis Forges and war smiths could craft. It lead the fleet forward befitting its name, fire, fury and wrath where exchanged without mercy or pause.
It was In B main turret an anti armour shell slammed into a plate already weakened by several hits from a heavy cruiser that lingered close exchanging close fire but losing it was when his world went black and his memory only returned aboard a land based hospital after the battle taken away by the the hospital ship Mercy of the Angel then to the main Naval hospital.
Victory came at a price for all, for our noble office it came high. His hand was a mass of bandages, Half his face was too. Shrapnel from the hit that buckled the turret's side sending a wave of steel into space and leaving grievous wounds and death to many. 1 man in 20 got out walking.
Decorated, promoted, His active career was over, honourable service meant he had a choice, a quiet retirement or to take what job was available and serve behind the desk instead of gunplot. Hamerlin chose to stay and soon his command was a desk in a comfortable enough office building trying to learn how to use his new hand and adapt to a single eye after a long stay in hospital.
…
Years passed.
…
Years passed and Hamerlin now held a role in the Embassy to a semi allied nation, their Naval attache, his job was not what he wanted, to have commanded warships, maybe even fleets but he had found at least a life that kept him from getting bored. He still was an expert at reading maps, able to calculate terrain, elevations, and transform the 2D into a 3D puzzle to crack complex tables and calculations easily. Those skills he kept, advising on situations and attending various events on behalf of the nation he served.
He rose to Post Captain on both seniority and merit, he was unlikely to make a flag but he had risen as far as a land based officer likely could. His rank also came with responsibilities and pressures that he had not shouldered before but privilege was never freely given.
…
Fire came.
…
Forts, defence lines and established defensive plans expected to hold the enemy for weeks, months if not drive them to utter stalemate buckled and broke far faster than anyone could have believed and soon the Capital rang with guns before even people could move to escape. The armies of the Red tide could not be held back as they began to pound the city, their batteries and heavy siege armies now able to dig, bombard and break the final defences before all was consumed.
Expecting no such army to obey the Diplomatic niceties, he grabbed what he could, his pistol and so from his drawer, stuffing ammo where he could, his knife and a few other things before he left. He would find his own way out and he believed he saw one last do or die plan in his eye. He was likely dead anyway so a small chance of success was more than none.
He had carefully studied the city and its plan, its maps, layout and what he helped would save his life. He made for his desperate plan, avoiding those places he knew would likely be main targets, and navigated his way to the last escape route he could devise.
Gender: Male
Age: 42
Nationality: Favis
Appearance: A taller man and bearded to hide the Scars from his injuries that caused his active retirement. Right eye is glass or an eyepatch depending on comfort and part of his right hand is a mechanical prostatic from a blast injury.
Has a number of miscellaneous scars from said explosion on his right side.
Personal Effects:
.455 Favis Heavy pattern Navy Revolver
Favis Diplomatic papers
Old Riggers Knife and spike.
Silver plated hip flask with Whiskey.
Navy wool overcoat.
1 glass right eye, 1 eye patch, 1 Right partial hand prosthetic
A folded bundle of small maps and a simple small metal compass.
History:
What is your job:
Former active Naval gunnery Officer and Diplomatic mission staffer from Favis..
Born into a long family of sailors from pirates to merchants and even the odd privateer down the family history it was almost expected that he would serve, sail in some way related to the sea. Hamelin did not disappoint and joined the Favis Navy as a junior midshipman when the chance was first available.
Though minor nobility their Title meant little more than a long family history, a coat of arms and a large home that cost too much to heat but they also refused to sell, a sense of pride and also the old stone building had withstood the centuries as their protector from storms, conflict and more unnumbered. It was this family that shaped the officer who rose in the Royal Flavis Navy, showing promise and being assigned first as a navigation officer until his real talent as a gunnery commander was revealed.
Success began to follow success until he was aboard the heavy dreadnought class, Hammer of Vich', a large ship clad in iron and steel, mounting the heaviest and most powerful armaments Flavis Forges and war smiths could craft. It lead the fleet forward befitting its name, fire, fury and wrath where exchanged without mercy or pause.
It was In B main turret an anti armour shell slammed into a plate already weakened by several hits from a heavy cruiser that lingered close exchanging close fire but losing it was when his world went black and his memory only returned aboard a land based hospital after the battle taken away by the the hospital ship Mercy of the Angel then to the main Naval hospital.
Victory came at a price for all, for our noble office it came high. His hand was a mass of bandages, Half his face was too. Shrapnel from the hit that buckled the turret's side sending a wave of steel into space and leaving grievous wounds and death to many. 1 man in 20 got out walking.
Decorated, promoted, His active career was over, honourable service meant he had a choice, a quiet retirement or to take what job was available and serve behind the desk instead of gunplot. Hamerlin chose to stay and soon his command was a desk in a comfortable enough office building trying to learn how to use his new hand and adapt to a single eye after a long stay in hospital.
…
Years passed.
…
Years passed and Hamerlin now held a role in the Embassy to a semi allied nation, their Naval attache, his job was not what he wanted, to have commanded warships, maybe even fleets but he had found at least a life that kept him from getting bored. He still was an expert at reading maps, able to calculate terrain, elevations, and transform the 2D into a 3D puzzle to crack complex tables and calculations easily. Those skills he kept, advising on situations and attending various events on behalf of the nation he served.
He rose to Post Captain on both seniority and merit, he was unlikely to make a flag but he had risen as far as a land based officer likely could. His rank also came with responsibilities and pressures that he had not shouldered before but privilege was never freely given.
…
Fire came.
…
Forts, defence lines and established defensive plans expected to hold the enemy for weeks, months if not drive them to utter stalemate buckled and broke far faster than anyone could have believed and soon the Capital rang with guns before even people could move to escape. The armies of the Red tide could not be held back as they began to pound the city, their batteries and heavy siege armies now able to dig, bombard and break the final defences before all was consumed.
Expecting no such army to obey the Diplomatic niceties, he grabbed what he could, his pistol and so from his drawer, stuffing ammo where he could, his knife and a few other things before he left. He would find his own way out and he believed he saw one last do or die plan in his eye. He was likely dead anyway so a small chance of success was more than none.
He had carefully studied the city and its plan, its maps, layout and what he helped would save his life. He made for his desperate plan, avoiding those places he knew would likely be main targets, and navigated his way to the last escape route he could devise.