@Terrans Couple of small changes I would like to suggest, otherwise super!
You've spoken about 'scouting, patrolling, camouflage, infiltration and advanced marksmanship.'... change that to 'scouting, patrolling and marksmanship'. Because camouflage is really in it's infancy as a concept - they know muted colours are helpful and trying to disguise artillery emplacements can help but that's about it. Infiltration hasn't been invented yet (historically this is a response to the battlefield conditions of WWI... which is just kicking off in this world) and marksmanship is also pretty basic... that being said snipers do exist. So all good with the general concept!
Can I also recommend you change the name of the 'Scout-Trackers' to an Alpine Regiment? Just gives that early 20th century feel... and it fits with the terrain!
Name: Aden Robertson Gender: Male Age: 22 Nationality: Inburian Nationalized ( Born Favis) Appearance:
Fair skin and freckled; Aden is a lean 6'0" with dark eyes and dirty blond hair in a short cut at the moment. He typically carries grin on his face and many find him looking rather young for his age. Typically found wearing his Inburian Alpine uniform in a mottled shade of tan and green with bandoleers of rifle ammo draped across his chest and belt.
Personal Effects: - Krausser Firearms R-01M Accuracy Pattern Rifle (Gewehr 98 with x4 Zeiss Optic) - Krausser Firearms P-15 Trench Pistol (P-08 Luger) - Fighting Knife - Compass - Binoculars - Silver Lighter (Engraved; " 46th Alpine: First to Fight, Last to Break") - Four Cigars - Sketchbook (Functions as diary, range table and..... a sketchbook.)
Background:
What is your job Inburian Army Marksman Backstory:
Aden originally came from a merchant family that plied the trade routes of the Circle Sea. The Robertson & Robinson Trading Co. having routes that traced all the way back to the days of pirates trying to carve out slices of legitimacy. It was into this legacy that Aden was born in a sleepy costal town after coming a month early.
Schooled and provided for; Aden spent his early years with his paternal Uncle in Vichy. Learning of the logistics and skills needed to keep the Robertson and Robinson Trading Co. afloat and profiting as changes in technology and politics caused the family to try and keep up. When he was old enough he took to the seas and visited the ports of the Old (and occasionally) New World under the watchful eyes of his father. However, a life of the sea and the ports began to grow on Aden as year after year of sailing, balancing books and constant traveling made him start to resent the life of a merchant.
His relationship with his parents began to strain until one day as they made port in Inbur; an argument caused a teenaged Aden to storm off their ship. Originally intent on simply enjoying some alcohol; Aden overindulged and was eventually wrapped up in a bar fight that ended with severe property damage. At first, a mistake of identity had Aden marked as a repeat offender; and the constables taking care of his charges said that he would be heading for a labor farm for hard labor. But the constable said he looked like a good kid and offered another chance; the Inburian Army was always recruiting and his buddy was able to get pardons for minor cases such as Aden's.
A mixture of hangover, sudden hope and resentment to his family caused Aden to say yes. By the time his family figured out where he was and went through the proper channels to contact him; Aden was a private in the Inburian military and in the third class to enter the infantile 46th Alpine Regiment. Aden had no intention of going back when he was both enjoying the new feeling of a unknown world of military service and the uniqueness that was the Inburian Army's new program.
An attempt to leverage the distinct terrain of the Calarian border; the 46th Alpine Regiment found themselves trained in scouting, patrolling, and marksmanship. Perfectly geared for the limited combat Inbur dreamed of occurring. Aden graduated with pride and found himself stationed on the Calarain border. A tense but relatively calm posting.
The invasion took them all by surprise; both in intensity and its modern tools. Most of the 46th died under a hail of gas artillery that Aden avoided by virtue of scouting out Calarian artillery observers. The remnants of the 46th and other border units tried to put up a fight but found it impossible to stem the tide of Calarians and the insurgents that seemed to appear spontaneously.
Having found himself in Inbur after his latest fighting retreat; Aden is currently attached to a rearguard force made up of survivors that managed to make it to the city. Their purposes to buy time for the more intact formations to regroup elsewhere. At the moment, the scout is currently manning one of the gates to the Imperial Palace's military aerodrome as he waits for orders even as the sounds of gunfire grow closer to the base.
The body was a sight. Not in gruesomeness, artillery shells and grenades mad macabre messes of humans. Bit rather in the bites that marred the woman's skin. Her face was pale and eyes wide with terror and death. Theo found he couldn't meet here gaze; instead he lowered his Luger so it hung loosely by his side. As the others crowded around the woman he instead he squatted and lowered his eyes to the grass.
The group's arrival had disturbed the ground and Theo was hardly a tracker. But he was a subject matter on death and the blood that dotted the ground was discernable in the fading gloom of the group's light sources.
Theo took a lantern and swung it lazily over the dirt; the pool of dried blood easy to see but blood had a habit of..... He found what he was looking for.
"Look.." He spoke with a low, cautious voice. Eyeing the edge of darkness just after the circle of light from the lantern. A few speckles of dark dried crimson winded their way into the gloom; growing wider before disappearing deeper into the fading light. "Blood trail. Whatever took a bite from her doesn't stop to wipe off the gore. It leaves that way."
Name: Theodosius "Theo" Rautenbach Gender: Male Age: 26 Nationality: German Appearance: A large shouldered man; Theo looks the part of the stereotypical burly German at a muscular 1.9 meters. Light brown hair in a overgrown crew cut helps hide the shrapnel scars that mar the left side of his temple. He possesses stormy grey eyes that are sit underneath thick eyebrows that seem dull but with a hint of intelligence within. His left hand is missing his ring and little finger at the first knuckles. [/hider] Personal Effects: A few changes of clothing, An Iron Cross (2nd Class), Luger P-08, Trench Knife, and a personal journal.
Background:
What is your jobFormer Unteroffizier of the Imperial German Army; Militiamen Backstory: A product of the Ruhr Valley; Theodosius Rautenbach was born the first child of five to a coal miner father and a school teacher mother. His young days were spent running lunch's from his childhood village to the mineshaft his father and uncles worked in. While never having left the valley proper; Theo didn't see much of a future outside the family businesses of mining. A mine collapse in 1910 however, took his father's legs and the lives of two uncles along with fourteen other miners. Despite being only a teen, Theo knew he had to help contribute to his family's situation and so he began to travel. Taking odd jobs and hopping trains; sending money back as he followed the jobs first across the valley; and then Germany.
An exciting and frightening journey for a young man but one he enjoyed. Soaking in the experiences and sights of the lands beyond hos hometown. So it was a adventurous and independent seventeen year old man the Army recruiters found when war was declared in 1914. The promise of steady pay and a patriotic fervor were all Theo needed to sign up.
Theo found quickly that the poster's and promises of the recruiting halls were a stark contrast from the trenches he found himself in. Made a machine gunner by virtue of his large size; Theo quickly found a distaste for the job. Not only because of the return fire and attention his gun brought but the carnage he had brought onto the field. Bogged down in Flanders; Theo's nightmares were filled with mud and twisted corpses as his waking moments were lit by the muzzle flashes of his Spandau.
He escaped Flanders in 1917 after a mortar round landed short. Ripping off his helmet and giving him a concussion serious enough to be transferred to the rear to recover. Upon recovering after a month in a field hospital; he was hastily bundled into a replacement unit slated to reinforce a new concept; the Stormtroopers. His new unit was stood up in time for the German's last counteroffensive in the spring. It was here that Theo earned an Iron Cross; taking a Canadian mortar section with only a pistol and knife despite being bayoneted in the attempt. A grenade however wounded him severely enough to be pulled out of the front; losing two fingers in the process. Infection nearly killed him; and it was in a Red Cross hospital that he heard of the war's end.
The inter-war period was a rough time for Theo. His previous existence of nomadic worker was untenable given Germany's current state. As a former soldier he was viewed as no better then the mobs of his former comrades that roamed the streets and roads; little more then bandits in tattered uniforms. However, his view of this militia was shared by several comrades; with Germany's military in shambles. They all but welcomed the government friendly militia's that battled the various anti-Weimar groups that embroiled the nation.
The irony of going from a war to a civil war was not lost on Theo. However, the somber man just saw it as a price his generation had to pay for the next one. Their generation of war would lead to a generation of peace...hopefully. It was this oddly optimistic, and yet cynical, man that found himself in Munich in 1923. One of his old captains had pressed a note in his hand and said; "They need dependable men like you my boy."
So here he was. A borrowed suit and his few worldly possessions the only showing of his time with the army and the militias.
Name: Theodosius "Theo" Rautenbach Gender: Male Age: 26 Nationality: German Appearance: A large shouldered man; Theo looks the part of the stereotypical burly German at a muscular 1.9 meters. Light brown hair in a overgrown crew cut helps hide the shrapnel scars that mar the left side of his temple. He possesses stormy grey eyes that are sit underneath thick eyebrows that seem dull but with a hint of intelligence within. His left hand is missing his ring and little finger at the first knuckles. [/hider] Personal Effects: A few changes of clothing, An Iron Cross (2nd Class), Luger P-08, Trench Knife, and a personal journal.
Background:
What is your jobFormer Unteroffizier of the Imperial German Army; Militiamen Backstory: A product of the Ruhr Valley; Theodosius Rautenbach was born the first child of five to a coal miner father and a school teacher mother. His young days were spent running lunch's from his childhood village to the mineshaft his father and uncles worked in. While never having left the valley proper; Theo didn't see much of a future outside the family businesses of mining. A mine collapse in 1910 however, took his father's legs and the lives of two uncles along with fourteen other miners. Despite being only a teen, Theo knew he had to help contribute to his family's situation and so he began to travel. Taking odd jobs and hopping trains; sending money back as he followed the jobs first across the valley; and then Germany.
An exciting and frightening journey for a young man but one he enjoyed. Soaking in the experiences and sights of the lands beyond hos hometown. So it was a adventurous and independent seventeen year old man the Army recruiters found when war was declared in 1914. The promise of steady pay and a patriotic fervor were all Theo needed to sign up.
Theo found quickly that the poster's and promises of the recruiting halls were a stark contrast from the trenches he found himself in. Made a machine gunner by virtue of his large size; Theo quickly found a distaste for the job. Not only because of the return fire and attention his gun brought but the carnage he had brought onto the field. Bogged down in Flanders; Theo's nightmares were filled with mud and twisted corpses as his waking moments were lit by the muzzle flashes of his Spandau.
He escaped Flanders in 1917 after a mortar round landed short. Ripping off his helmet and giving him a concussion serious enough to be transferred to the rear to recover. Upon recovering after a month in a field hospital; he was hastily bundled into a replacement unit slated to reinforce a new concept; the Stormtroopers. His new unit was stood up in time for the German's last counteroffensive in the spring. It was here that Theo earned an Iron Cross; taking a Canadian mortar section with only a pistol and knife despite being bayoneted in the attempt. A grenade however wounded him severely enough to be pulled out of the front; losing two fingers in the process. Infection nearly killed him; and it was in a Red Cross hospital that he heard of the war's end.
The inter-war period was a rough time for Theo. His previous existence of nomadic worker was untenable given Germany's current state. As a former soldier he was viewed as no better then the mobs of his former comrades that roamed the streets and roads; little more then bandits in tattered uniforms. However, his view of this militia was shared by several comrades; with Germany's military in shambles. They all but welcomed the government friendly militia's that battled the various anti-Wiemaer groups that embroiled the nation.
The irony of going from a war to a civil war was not lost on Theo. However, the somber man just saw it as a price his generation had to pay for the next one. Their generation of war would lead to a generation of peace...hopefully. It was this oddly optimistic, and yet cynical, man that found himself in Munich in 1923. One of his old captains had pressed a note in his hand and said; "They need dependable men like you my boy."
So here he was. A borrowed suit and his few worldly possessions the only showing of his time with the army and the militias.
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