Name: "Graves"
Age: 27
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 93 kilograms
Class: Vagabond - potentially path into Scientist or Rogue later
Race: Human
Weapons & Equipment:
Unknown bits and pieces of a seemingly larger device consisting of a long metallic tube, a round palm sized wheel with holes in it and small rod that has the odd property of violently pushing away nearby iron or steel with great force when activated - as well as an array of complicated screws and plates, some of which he wears as makeshift bracers.
They bear the mark of the disfranchised Haysin Industries, a small cuboid logo with a triangle and a single letter in it. Graves plays around and tries to repair it, pitting it against what he knows of mechanical objects sometimes, he seems unwilling to sell it despite not being able to get it to get them together as a whole. Seems valuable as the metal is very pure.
They bear the mark of the disfranchised Haysin Industries, a small cuboid logo with a triangle and a single letter in it. Graves plays around and tries to repair it, pitting it against what he knows of mechanical objects sometimes, he seems unwilling to sell it despite not being able to get it to get them together as a whole. Seems valuable as the metal is very pure.
Heavy Crossbow: A large durable, pinewood crossbow with 321 pound draw weight. A commonality in militias who lack skilled archers, this is a contraption that allows the wielder to fire a high speed arrow at a target without much maintained aim.
It punches a sturdy arrow through metal armor easily, though reloading it usually takes time and a special mechanism due to the draw weight. Graves just pulls it by hand.
The perfect device for placing ropes in high places, causing a distraction or poaching the occasional forest creature.
It punches a sturdy arrow through metal armor easily, though reloading it usually takes time and a special mechanism due to the draw weight. Graves just pulls it by hand.
The perfect device for placing ropes in high places, causing a distraction or poaching the occasional forest creature.
Backpack, motar and pestle, rope, sedatives, heating element, glue, solder, spare clothes, grappling hook, natural philisophy tome (ruined, needs deciphering).
Steel knife, lockpicks, coinpouch (270 170 silvers), caltrops, sedative herbs (mirthweed), runed earrings (one ear only, unremovable).
Skills and Abilities:
- Graves understands how machines work and how the body functions for most part, this lets him try to repair artifacts, manufacture simple contraptions and medicines or treat the ailing with what he has on hand with some amount of skill.
He can read and write in common, as well as in scientific terms.
He can read and write in common, as well as in scientific terms.
-Graves is stronger than he looks by a mile. His senses of hearing and smell are strangely sharp as well, maybe even inhumanly so, but it makes city life difficult. This helps him more on the road than anywhere else, where he has to live in the wild often. A souvenier from his days back in the bio-pits, his body still yearns to go back to those times, even if his mind is wholly unwilling.
But his strength is sorely unhoned, making him a clumsy swordsman. He cannot afford to be off his medication nor be under extreme stress without it, especially at night.
But his strength is sorely unhoned, making him a clumsy swordsman. He cannot afford to be off his medication nor be under extreme stress without it, especially at night.
-This navorethian has managed to muffle his footsteps to be quieter than even what he himself can hear, and he can usually hear almost anything. This, alongside a few other roguish tricks that he learnt by neccessity, has led to him having a greater priviledge of fReedom. Given only time and effort, Locks and doors falter readily, though Wards and other occult barriers can still challenge him a bit.
Seasick - "Graves" is not used to the erratic motions of an oceanic boat which induce a growing nausea in him. He does not like swimming either. (This was added in Chapter 1.)
History:
These two flow in the veins of Naverothians more than the blood of the citizenry itself.
Those who clung to their stupid morals of benevolence or empathy were quickly drowned by the opportunists who lay with golden daggers at their backs. Afterall, nature had no place for human kindness in her grand design. The strong got to the meek, the large over the weak. This was the way the world was made to be.
But the wise know that power can be dangerous and it was better for others to take the risk first, than bear it themselves. They needed ...test subjects.
Those whose genetic code, health or virtually any trait matched the experiments of the scientists could rise through the echoleons of society simply through happenstance alone. Even those who were born with nothing, like Kelvin Haysin.
This was his lifeline for many years, enduring torture after torture just so he could feed himself and what few friends he had in the smog polluted wastes of the Undercity. He did not mind it one bit, it paid well and he contributed to the progress towards a better mankind. Eventually even he got famous enough among the scientific community for surviving treatments many others would not. They became intruiged by him. They wanted to know more. They wanted to have more. So they transfered him to the bio-pits ...
...
...
...
Until he realized what that involved,
...
...
Until he realized what that involved,
Kelvin did not want to spend the rest of his life floating in a vat - he did not agree to any of this, he did not agree to stewing in that liquid that still runs through his veins to this day. Only let out when it was time to pit him against some other horror that was once Human, then shoved back in again time after time. The very thought of those days alone still causes him lapses of debillitating psychic pain,
Through the sliver of chance and the kindness of a stranger, he broke out from his prison and never turned back again. His legs ran as fast as they could, his fingers shook as they clawed through the city dragging his drug-addled body behind. Half the time not even remembering how he got to places, not knowing what he might have done. Taking up a new name, "Graves", as long as he lives he swears he would NEVER return to Navoreth, not even if the faces of his friends still haunt his nightmares till the end of time.
He has done things he is not proud of to get far away from the bio-pits, exploited others and himself, betrayed people who trusted him along the road. To simply outrun his former life.
That was fairly recently, having adjusted to his own circumstances, though now realizing he is unable to stay in one place for long - Graves has no choice but to resort to poaching, burglary and the occasional con just to ekk out day by day while he seeks asylum.
That was fairly recently, having adjusted to his own circumstances, though now realizing he is unable to stay in one place for long - Graves has no choice but to resort to poaching, burglary and the occasional con just to ekk out day by day while he seeks asylum.
