Tsar Gatto

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

390

Rotten Spokes of the Unlawful Wheel

Splendid! I believe I will have a good go at getting a character up.

So far my main ideas would be:

Some sort of anti-capitalist eco-terrorist type character, but one whom is 'undercover' within an organisation (CDA maybe?) and has been for some time. Currently he/she is split between their own ideological beliefs and the more and more extreme action being pushed by the group and if it's all worth it anymore. Likely drug addiction as well as stressful and overly dramatic love triangle type situation.

Criminal mastermind of sorts - like a 'Cat Burglar extraordinaire'. Also lots of fingers in lots of pies. Probably a high class 'better than everyone else' type of person. Maybe a little bit of bounty hunting on the side, but only specific jobs. Abhors 'the rules', whatever they may be. Almost definitely sociopathic and very manipulative, unable to develop deeper relationships due to this and very narcissistic ways.

I need to sit down and get cracking and see which flows better, but open to thoughts/suggestions at this stage definitely.

Rotten Spokes of the Unlawful Wheel

Not sure if I'd have the time to join in something so detailed and wonderful looking (plus it seems I've missed deadlines and what not), but I'd just like to say I'll be reading along with ya'll and should your doors open I'll likely try and get a CS up.

Also hey Kingfisher... I don't stalk you...much...

Servants of the Dark Lord

Very tempted to try and make a CS for this one.

I absolutely loved your guys Broken World: Nations of Azoth and read along with that, so either way I'll certainly be lurking.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

Sorry it took me so long to post.

After coming back from such a glorious trip, it was... difficult to get back to normality. Weekend now anyway and I finally found the inspiration I was looking for.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

The stench of poverty flowed through the streets in the bronze quarter, the dwellings around these parts may once long ago been luxurious and even lavish, however that was clearly long ago he thought to himself. These days this part of the city was rarely visited by the majority of the offworlders that have come to call Taenarum ‘home’ temporarily or otherwise. Thick with first, second and even third generation refugees this area had succumbed to the plight of crime and squalor that often accompanies such an exodus and resulting influx of so many lives forced to occupy such confined living quarters. Between the older buildings there were shabbily constructed shanties that had grown as did the population, and everywhere there were the signs of neglect and lawlessness. It was not a nice place to be.

Few took notice of the shadowy figure that walked the twilight streets, clad in a dark faded ferbosium bodysuit with several mismatched pieces of combat-scarred armour – only half hidden under the worn dark navy jacket - it was clear to most this stranger had seen and dealt in death. A rifle slung across his back, a bulky sidearm and his hand resting on the hilt of his blade the few that did take notice quickly thought better of it and began to search for a new much easier, less well armed mark. His helmet was nondescript, though any survivors of the Galen-Tiese systems might recognise its makings, it was all but meaningless to the rest of the universe. The figure turned off the main street and made his way down a small alleyway between two towering blocks, grimacing as he was again assailed by the stench of filth he wished he’d brought an airtight helmet instead of his openfaced one. Before him he could see his destination, a small drinking establishment built again rather poorly and cheaply with only a non-functioning neon sign to give away its presence. ‘The Dead End’ it was called, ‘Ironic’ - thought Sinval to himself as he trudged down through the filth towards the shanty. Along the way he passed piles of rubbish and even a pair of corpses, not long dead by the look of them, practically naked and stripped of everything of worth he guessed. He didn’t linger on the thought of their fate for more than a few moments, cruel as it may have been.

Steeling himself he removed his sturdy Draxentine sidearm and entered the premises, pushing open the wooden door with his free-hand before his eyes took in his surroundings as rapidly as he could. There was one central room with two other doorways, the leftmost behind what was once the bar, now covered in rotting food containers and rancid chem paraphernalia. He summarised that the first door would likely lead to some kind of small storage room, the other door though looked like it might more-so lead into another room judging on its more central position. He was surprised by the lack of any guards of hired thugs of any sort, but then again this looked like it’d been converted into ramshackle living quarters of sort as he took count of the several bedrolls scattered about the room – it didn’t exactly look like a high class operation to say the least - no wonder the job was for so little money he reflected sourly.

He took a step forwards and at that moment the second doorway opened, emerging from it a rather muscular human thug who took more than a few moments to realise Sinval was even there. He cried out in a guttural street language and scrabbled to pull his own weapon free and scramble backwards at the same time. Sinval quickly fired a single shot which took him clean in the skull, sending his body thudding backwards as he saw several more figures looming through the doorway and returning his cries. Vaulting forwards he closed the distance and threw himself against the doorway for cover as they returned fire, several light rounds whizzing past before embedding in the wall behind him. He waited patiently for a lull in their shots and counted two shooters and tried to determine their rough positions based on the sounds he could hear. His moment came and he whipped around the corner and rapidly fired two shots at each of the men. Before they could even react the shots found their marks and they crumpled to the ground. “Amateurs…” he mumbled to himself as he made his way cautiously through the room towards what he figured must be the final doorway based on the size of the place. As he did suddenly someone on the other side opened fire and sent a rapid hail of shots towards him. He lunged to the side though he did feel a round ricochet off his shoulder guard and he gritted as he again lunged into cover beside the doorway and landed with a thud. He quickly held his gun against the door and blind-fired several shots which tore through the wood, he continued to fire until the shots stopped. Again taking the first opportunity he pulled the door open and quickly glanced through ready to fire if necessary. The small room had offered little cover to his foe and his shots had found their target. Laying writhing on the carpet was the unmistakable Feilond criminal he had been sent to kill, his ‘distinguishing’ appearance proof enough of that.

Sinval took a few steps more into the room as he drew up above the reptilian Feilond and kicked the machine pistol away from its clawed grasp. “Waaait… I’ll p..p..pay you!” it croaked feebly in Humanitas. He wasted no time as he levelled the gun to its skull and fired another round, its grey scaled head half exploding as he executed it without pause ending its pitiful life. He took a few moments as he removed a small bio-sampler and took a sample of its blood to verify the kill before he again slipped it into his pack and turned to leave. Back in the main room with the bar he took again a few moments to cautiously check the other door, but he recoiled as he pushed it open as he discovered it had been converted into a toilet of sorts - or so he quickly gathered from the stench. He hesitated before leaving, he recognised he had been fortunate that the majority of the Feilond’s gang were obviously out elsewhere likely terrorising someone. Though the bounty was only for the leader, the thought of leaving so many armed thugs alive didn’t quite sit well with him. After a few moments thoughts he dragged the bodies of those he had killed and dumped them in the room with the Feilond. As he left he carefully set a tripwire attached to the doorway which would trigger a pair of heavy fragmentation charges. It seemed overkill somewhat but it was one way to ensure the returning gang members would be eradicated whenever they did return, their godsforsaken shack with them.

As he made his way out and back towards more civilized parts he pondered on why he felt the need to leave such a fatal gift for whomever would return – not that he felt morally it was wrong in anyway. He had come to think of criminals like that as the worst sort in this life, cowards that would take things only from the weakest and least fortunate in society. Truth be told it was an opinion that had heavily been branded on him from childhood, the old Tolok Mathiti mantra of ‘the only good criminal is a dead criminal’ ringing in his mind. Of course the Tolok Mathiti had thought that about dissidents and sometimes even intellectuals of any kind, when it came down to it. He realised it had been a long long time since he had thought about home and he let his mind wander as he walked the streets back towards the more central districts. Though he did so from experience his eyes continued to dart around and his hand continued to rest on his blade. He longed to spend some of what he would earn from this bounty on a quiet meal somewhere, but he knew already the money was earmarked for the god-awful accommodation he had been forced to rent.

With a sigh and the grumblings of his stomach, he decided at the very least to get some street food from a vender in the central markets. With the thought of at least a meal of some kind in mind he put one foot in front of the other and made his way towards his destination. At least, he thought somewhat bitterly, he had one way or another made this world a better place, if only slightly.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

Still here and reading along when I've been able.

Not much opportunity to post, but back home soonish and will certainly get a post up with haste.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

Just to make y'all aware I'm traveling away from tomorrow for just over two weeks.

Going travelling around Thailand so internets will likely be very limited in the more off the track places, but I'll still be on where possible.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

Sinval Drossili

It has been several years since the end of the Valnaur conflict that left the vast majority of the known systems of the galaxy in tatters. Though the Empire itself has turned inwards and isolationist the long sought after peace feels somewhat hollow and empty to most.

In the void left by the now decimated forces of the Valnauri and Confederated systems there have risen a great many mercenary groups and factions that now thrive. Initially these groups were created and swelled by large numbers of defectors from all sides of the conflict as it drew to a close, further augmented by those with a desire for wealth or a lust for battle. It seems the denizens of the stars have traded one evil for another as the issue continues to grow and both experienced and inexperienced warriors of all kinds flock together and fight for anyone with the wealth or desire for conquest they choose.

One such man has found his place in this new world, having himself ‘defected’ from those he once called master. Sinval Drossili was born on a distant world known as Tolok Mathiti – a colony belonging to the Galen-Ti worlds, a vassal system itself unto one of the leading members of the confederated alliance.
Unfortunately for him the world of Tolok Mathiti was not a pleasant one. Between the blisteringly hot days and the freezing cold nights there was also the vast array of hideously deadly creatures that called the large and somewhat barren planet home. If that were not bad enough, the ‘society’ on the remote colony comprised of what could easily have been called a very advanced heavily bureaucratic caste-slavery system, one to which Sinval was born towards bottom of. A child labourer as soon as he was deemed old enough to work, he was ‘conscripted’ and branded as child soldier before he even hit the years of puberty (unfortunately the Galen-Ti worlds have always suffered from heavy civil unrest as well as a sizable piracy problems, which they would frequently attempt to solve through force and militarised campaigns), young life was far from what most would call pleasant for the young man.

His life comprised of rigorous drilling and training, brutal conflicts and simply trying to survive the many obstacles that presented themselves in his day to day life. He became hard and strong as was demanded of him, and through that and a great deal of fortune he found himself surviving to the earliest stages of adulthood with only several minor injuries before everything changed. The conflict against the Valnaur Empire was growing dire at this stage, and though considered primitive in terms of technology compared to the other confederated systems the Galen-Ti worlds were drawn heavily into the raging war as losses mounted. The colony of Tolok Mathiti was completely abandoned, it’s ‘citizens’ being either conscripted or relocated as their entire way of life was torn asunder. Sinval and the rest of the Galen-Ti forces he was a part of were incorporated into a much larger battlegroup that was then sent to be ‘modernized’ and re-trained as quickly as possible. He was sent to the very core systems of the confederation, to a highly militarised system for only one week of training before they were then sent into the heart of the conflict.

Suffice to say the war was not pleasant and the Galen-Tiese forces took heavy casualties as they adjusted from their ‘primitive’ ways of war and were dragged into the realms of much more modern warfare. Sinval somehow survived mostly unscathed (A plasma burn here, few broken bones there, but nothing too serious) before being incorporated into a different force altogether. After several years more of fighting, it seemed his fortune had expired as he was hit by part of a flechette charge – though he survived he was severely wounded and unable to continue the fight without major treatment as he lost his right arm elbow down as well as gaining himself a torso full of shrapnel. Once more sent back towards the core-worlds he was given the most state of the art care available (a gesture towards one of the few surviving Galen-Tiese– the Galen-Ti worlds had since been decimated and ravished by the Valnauri forces) as he slowly recovered.

By this point in his life Sinval Drossili was an extremely different man from the one that had left Tolok Mathiti. He had seen worlds and cities beyond his imagining, sights and places he could not have dreamed of. He had lived with people from countless places more, many of them he would have considered friends before they had died or shipped off elsewhere one way or another. He once had practically no education and could not even read or write, but now he spoke several languages and knew many customs, though he still lacked any formal teaching he had become a man of the stars in more ways than one as he took any opportunity he could to learn more or better himself.

He was now an experienced soldier who had served extensively through the later years of the Valnauri conflict and lived to tell the tale. He had scouted and fought in terrain of all kinds, and though the conditions of his ‘servitude’ had improved somewhat throughout the course of his life he still felt like he was a slave. Once he had recovered he took his opportunity and fled, using what little ‘pay’ he accumulated from his time under the confederate forces to smuggle his way on a freighter as far away as he could afford.

His life since then and the end of the war has unfortunately not been quite as different as he would have hoped. With any real employment in short supply and after a few short stints under several rather backbreaking and mediocre works he quickly found his way into the life of a mercenary– after all, what else could he really do. He spent what little resources he had left to purchase more modern weaponry and donned his now somewhat dated protective Ferbosium-weave combat suit and set out to find a company.

He worked for several months under the “Siros Legion”, a group that was primarily composed of other confederate deserters – but soon that felt too much like ‘old times’ and so he moved on before things got worse –at least now he had enough wealth to get himself to the planet of Taenarum. A hub for mercenaries of all sorts Sinval is taking a small opportunity to enjoy some rest and relaxation, or at least he would do if his finances were not already beginning to expire.

In terms of his equipment Sinval owns two personal firearms – the first his old Galentiese sidearm, a kinetic pistol loaded with Draxentine hollow-point rounds. It once had his Tolok Mathiti service number branded onto it though he long ago scratched it off. Though considered very ‘low-tech’ as far as weaponry goes it has saved his life countless times and he is loath to part with it.

He also now owns a much more ‘modern’ long-rangeTangenti heavy calibre pulse rifle. This heavy duty firearm has fantastic long range performance and is capable of inflicting much destruction upon both personal and more lightly armoured targets. The only downside would be the relative expense and rarity of Tangenti pulse rounds – though on the planet of Taenarum this is far from an issue it may cause logistical issues in more remote systems.

He also still owns his service blade, issued to him on his homeworld of Tolok Mathiti the reliable blade is still as sharp and strong as the day it was forged. The mid-sized blade is generally practical and lightweight – it is constructed from a steel-durat alloy which is incredibly hardy and light. Savagely sharp this blade can deal with all but the most armoured of infantry personnel. Again forged with his service number on the hilt, now little remains where he has removed it.

Though a man of only twenty-seven he has seen as much combat as any grizzled veteran is expected too – from brutal low tech warfare up to the most cutting edge ways to annihilate your enemy Sinval has likely witnessed it. His deep green eyes are offset by the dark rings and somewhat haggard appearance that come with being a killer who is disheartened, apathetic and becoming somewhat adverse to unnecessary death. Despite this on a daily basis he puts up quite an appropriate front, is straight to the point and follows orders to the letter. A trained and experienced solider he knows exactly how to war, though he now attempts to stay as far away from the frontline of any fight as he knows only too well the horrors that can unfold. He is much more at ease delivering death from as far away as possible with ranged weaponry.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

Still definitely lurking around.

On my way home now and gonna polish up the sheet a little more prior to moving him across, but definitely liking the look of the cast coming together.

@Synthorian fairly certain they are indeed as long as they fit the whole theme and whatnot, however our 'mostly human' cast isn't turning out that way - so I'd wait to see what @Jbcool reccomends.