Member
Hanomai
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Appearance: Full
Facial appearance: Face
Armor: Heavy leather armor and a heavy shield.
Clothing: Dark blue silk clothing.
Weapons: A high caliber Lever action rifle.
A jewel encrusted electrified saber.
Miscellaneous items: He has a golden locket that contains an old holo-message of somebody waiting for him to return home after his endless voyage comes to an end.
Biography: "Captain, we will be arriving at Shax within the hour. Will you be performing some final inspections?" The captain sat alone at his desk looking out of a window at the approaching landmass. He was holding something in his hand. "No, Matthiew. I will leave that to you today."
The navigator stood silent for a moment before talking again. "Are you okay, boss?" The captain did not move much as he stared at something in his hands. Grissom approached and looked over his shoulder for a moment. The Captain was looking at the back of an eyepatch. His eyepatch. There was a picture embroidered into it, that of a young woman with long black hair. "Who is that, boss?"
The captain kept silent for a time. He had taken off his eyepatch to look at the picture on the back again. Normally it sat over his missing eye, but now it stood bare, the darkness within the socket being a cruel reminder of his past. "An old lover. Gone now." He covered the wound again and stared out the window. "I never did tell you her story, did I?"
"You did not, no."
Standing across from one another in front of an open hatch in the bottom of a large airship, James and a woman with pitch black hair with black and red combat armor fitting snuggly on her body looked at each other and smiled. They both clicked buttons on their chests and a black cord popped out of their backs and latched onto the wall. They both jumped down the hole and plummeted to the firefight that was going on below.
"She and I were part of a pirate clan called the Tiranade. We fought every battle together. We were inseparable. For a time, we thought we were invincible."
The two stood on top of a fallen skiff, dead all around as the clan rejoiced, their two greatest soldiers standing on top the enemy captain's flagship, triumphant.
"But, then the gaze of The Lost Wolves fell upon us. The Tiranade haven was attacked. It was a slaughter."
They stood together now, back to back, pistols in their hands as they stared down the group of black and red garbed pirates before them. They smiled and leaped into action.
"There was our last stand. Our clan had no survivors besides myself. I never even had the chance to say goodbye to her, her body was...unrecognizable among the corpses."
A hand coated in blood sprung from underneath a pile of corpses, the area around it was on fire, filling the air with smoke and death. Renault's head emerged from the pile and he took in a sharp, deep, breath. He pulled himself out slowly, his right eye was missing, leaving only darkness in its place. He was covered in blood and bile. He gasped for air as he clawed his way out, rolling to the ground as he broke free of the thralls of his once living friends.
"I remember well what I did after I narrowly avoided death. I went hunting."
Standing atop a small sky scraper, Renault looked down onto a smaller building that had been rumored to be a small headquarters for the Lost Wolf command. He held up a small black detonator with a red button on it. When he clicked it, the building erupted into fire. He turned and walked away.
"I had hunted them down until they were almost nothing. But their captain...Ulysses Tronik. Here covered recovered from every attack in mere days. For three months I had single handedly been wiping out hundreds of his men, even capturing his prized flagship, "The Deceit." The very ship you're standing in now. But...he was back the next week, even more powerful than before. He and his Lost Wolves simply came back again and again...."
He sighed and wrung his hands for a few moments before standing up slowly and gesturing for him to lead the way.
"I had taken the last photo I had of her and imprinted it to this eyepatch, so that I may always see her in whatever I do." He followed him out the door and to the cafeteria where the rest of the crew was waiting. They were a small group now, but soon they would be a force to be reckoned with. "...but you know the rest of the story. You were my first recruit."
"Aye, boss, I am."
"Now...you and I. We have him now. He's in Tirbetha, cornered like a rat. With this new crew, we will have him in our clutches. We'll rob him blind of everything he's ever valued, just as he did to me."
Extra: His pet crow Asphexia is the only companion that he has had over the years. Fast, armed with an unshackled A.I. and an on-board stealth field. Asphexia is a powerful ally for the captain.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Full
Facial appearance: Face
Armor: Heavy leather armor and a heavy shield.
Clothing: Dark blue silk clothing.
Weapons: A high caliber Lever action rifle.
A jewel encrusted electrified saber.
Miscellaneous items: He has a golden locket that contains an old holo-message of somebody waiting for him to return home after his endless voyage comes to an end.
Biography: "Captain, we will be arriving at Shax within the hour. Will you be performing some final inspections?" The captain sat alone at his desk looking out of a window at the approaching landmass. He was holding something in his hand. "No, Matthiew. I will leave that to you today."
The navigator stood silent for a moment before talking again. "Are you okay, boss?" The captain did not move much as he stared at something in his hands. Grissom approached and looked over his shoulder for a moment. The Captain was looking at the back of an eyepatch. His eyepatch. There was a picture embroidered into it, that of a young woman with long black hair. "Who is that, boss?"
The captain kept silent for a time. He had taken off his eyepatch to look at the picture on the back again. Normally it sat over his missing eye, but now it stood bare, the darkness within the socket being a cruel reminder of his past. "An old lover. Gone now." He covered the wound again and stared out the window. "I never did tell you her story, did I?"
"You did not, no."
Standing across from one another in front of an open hatch in the bottom of a large airship, James and a woman with pitch black hair with black and red combat armor fitting snuggly on her body looked at each other and smiled. They both clicked buttons on their chests and a black cord popped out of their backs and latched onto the wall. They both jumped down the hole and plummeted to the firefight that was going on below.
"She and I were part of a pirate clan called the Tiranade. We fought every battle together. We were inseparable. For a time, we thought we were invincible."
The two stood on top of a fallen skiff, dead all around as the clan rejoiced, their two greatest soldiers standing on top the enemy captain's flagship, triumphant.
"But, then the gaze of The Lost Wolves fell upon us. The Tiranade haven was attacked. It was a slaughter."
They stood together now, back to back, pistols in their hands as they stared down the group of black and red garbed pirates before them. They smiled and leaped into action.
"There was our last stand. Our clan had no survivors besides myself. I never even had the chance to say goodbye to her, her body was...unrecognizable among the corpses."
A hand coated in blood sprung from underneath a pile of corpses, the area around it was on fire, filling the air with smoke and death. Renault's head emerged from the pile and he took in a sharp, deep, breath. He pulled himself out slowly, his right eye was missing, leaving only darkness in its place. He was covered in blood and bile. He gasped for air as he clawed his way out, rolling to the ground as he broke free of the thralls of his once living friends.
"I remember well what I did after I narrowly avoided death. I went hunting."
Standing atop a small sky scraper, Renault looked down onto a smaller building that had been rumored to be a small headquarters for the Lost Wolf command. He held up a small black detonator with a red button on it. When he clicked it, the building erupted into fire. He turned and walked away.
"I had hunted them down until they were almost nothing. But their captain...Ulysses Tronik. Here covered recovered from every attack in mere days. For three months I had single handedly been wiping out hundreds of his men, even capturing his prized flagship, "The Deceit." The very ship you're standing in now. But...he was back the next week, even more powerful than before. He and his Lost Wolves simply came back again and again...."
He sighed and wrung his hands for a few moments before standing up slowly and gesturing for him to lead the way.
"I had taken the last photo I had of her and imprinted it to this eyepatch, so that I may always see her in whatever I do." He followed him out the door and to the cafeteria where the rest of the crew was waiting. They were a small group now, but soon they would be a force to be reckoned with. "...but you know the rest of the story. You were my first recruit."
"Aye, boss, I am."
"Now...you and I. We have him now. He's in Tirbetha, cornered like a rat. With this new crew, we will have him in our clutches. We'll rob him blind of everything he's ever valued, just as he did to me."
Extra: His pet crow Asphexia is the only companion that he has had over the years. Fast, armed with an unshackled A.I. and an on-board stealth field. Asphexia is a powerful ally for the captain.
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Appearance: Clothing and face
Armor: Lightly armored clothing with a bullet proof vest underneath. He likes to keep it quick and loose.
Weapons: A heavy caliber sniper rifle that he carries in nearly all situations.
In addition to his rifle he always carries his Revolver on him at all times.
He also has a single Single black metal sword normally situated on his back.
Miscellaneous items: He carries several magazines of ammo with him for all his weapons in a small bag at his side. He also carries a small bottle of brandy for particular nights when he can't sleep. He's always able to sleep when he's drunk.
Biography:
"So, I have a story for you guys today. About this guy I once knew that died a few weeks ago. His name was Brom. Brom was Born on a pathetic little rock out in the middle of nowhere, near the equator, on a really hot and sweltering monday, in the middle of the hottest season, on the anniversary of his late brother's death, mere hours after his father crashed into a tree with a hoverbike, breaking most of his bones."
"Brom's birthday always sucked. He grew up poor, having to do nothing but watch the occasional trader ship pass by day in and day out for years, waiting, watching, for the perfect moment. See, he was the type of kid to want to explore but his parents paid little attention to him, instead letting him just learn how to be human from a computer monitor and feed him every now and then. But then one day...the trader ship decided to give him a visit. His parents never heard from him again."
"At the ripe young age of ten, he was out on his own. He had joined the trader ship as a dishwasher, barely earning enough for him to rent the room that was on the ship, which was a cramped storage room with no bed. But to him, it was the best home he had ever had and he has had only two. It wasn't long before he jumped ship and found a new home in a large city island. A garden island named New Attica. What old Attica was like he'll never know, but the people were kind and he was able to get a job pretty easily. Things worked out very well until he turned 16, where he then joined the Nesychian military. He actually compared it to his childhood life there at first. He was beaten into the ground, served barely more than gray goop for food, and the water was 80% rust, 20% liquid substance that was NOT water. He knew things would get better, least somewhere in the back of his mind he did. He was able to ascend the ranks over the coarse of ten years and, with a lot of perseverance, the gray goop became freshly cloned Duck à l'orange, the crappy water became Cabernet Sauvignan, and he was getting laid every night."
"That was until his superiors started ordering him to kill children. Then he had an issue, and he made it vocal. They had ordered him to wipe out an school because an enemy officer was visiting there at the time. Not just the officer, but the whole school, because it wasn't like he was trained as a military sniper during his time in the military...but fuck that noise, right? He was having none of that and resisted it, told his superiors to go screw themselves and he went and became a mercenary for the enemy side. They sent assassins after him, robots, a few hookers. He sent some of them back to their masters in pieces, others were too incompetent to shoot the guy with the sniper rifle and instead tried to kill civilians. Didn't end up well for him.
He spent a few years with them, but he drifted away after awhile, sick of the war and sick of having to shoot people doing their jobs in the face. So he went freelancing and was immediately hired on by a captain with an eyepatch, and thus I'm a pirate now and here I am."
"Wait, I thought this was a st-"
"Shut up, Brom!"
Extra: In addition to being a sniper and long range support for the group, Cyrus is also the resident bartender in the officer's lounge. For the officers, they get a very classically insane bartender to share secrets to that shall remain secret. For Cyrus: Free booze.
Gender: Male
Appearance: Clothing and face
Armor: Lightly armored clothing with a bullet proof vest underneath. He likes to keep it quick and loose.
Weapons: A heavy caliber sniper rifle that he carries in nearly all situations.
In addition to his rifle he always carries his Revolver on him at all times.
He also has a single Single black metal sword normally situated on his back.
Miscellaneous items: He carries several magazines of ammo with him for all his weapons in a small bag at his side. He also carries a small bottle of brandy for particular nights when he can't sleep. He's always able to sleep when he's drunk.
Biography:
"So, I have a story for you guys today. About this guy I once knew that died a few weeks ago. His name was Brom. Brom was Born on a pathetic little rock out in the middle of nowhere, near the equator, on a really hot and sweltering monday, in the middle of the hottest season, on the anniversary of his late brother's death, mere hours after his father crashed into a tree with a hoverbike, breaking most of his bones."
"Brom's birthday always sucked. He grew up poor, having to do nothing but watch the occasional trader ship pass by day in and day out for years, waiting, watching, for the perfect moment. See, he was the type of kid to want to explore but his parents paid little attention to him, instead letting him just learn how to be human from a computer monitor and feed him every now and then. But then one day...the trader ship decided to give him a visit. His parents never heard from him again."
"At the ripe young age of ten, he was out on his own. He had joined the trader ship as a dishwasher, barely earning enough for him to rent the room that was on the ship, which was a cramped storage room with no bed. But to him, it was the best home he had ever had and he has had only two. It wasn't long before he jumped ship and found a new home in a large city island. A garden island named New Attica. What old Attica was like he'll never know, but the people were kind and he was able to get a job pretty easily. Things worked out very well until he turned 16, where he then joined the Nesychian military. He actually compared it to his childhood life there at first. He was beaten into the ground, served barely more than gray goop for food, and the water was 80% rust, 20% liquid substance that was NOT water. He knew things would get better, least somewhere in the back of his mind he did. He was able to ascend the ranks over the coarse of ten years and, with a lot of perseverance, the gray goop became freshly cloned Duck à l'orange, the crappy water became Cabernet Sauvignan, and he was getting laid every night."
"That was until his superiors started ordering him to kill children. Then he had an issue, and he made it vocal. They had ordered him to wipe out an school because an enemy officer was visiting there at the time. Not just the officer, but the whole school, because it wasn't like he was trained as a military sniper during his time in the military...but fuck that noise, right? He was having none of that and resisted it, told his superiors to go screw themselves and he went and became a mercenary for the enemy side. They sent assassins after him, robots, a few hookers. He sent some of them back to their masters in pieces, others were too incompetent to shoot the guy with the sniper rifle and instead tried to kill civilians. Didn't end up well for him.
He spent a few years with them, but he drifted away after awhile, sick of the war and sick of having to shoot people doing their jobs in the face. So he went freelancing and was immediately hired on by a captain with an eyepatch, and thus I'm a pirate now and here I am."
"Wait, I thought this was a st-"
"Shut up, Brom!"
Extra: In addition to being a sniper and long range support for the group, Cyrus is also the resident bartender in the officer's lounge. For the officers, they get a very classically insane bartender to share secrets to that shall remain secret. For Cyrus: Free booze.
All pictures are clickable.
Non-player-characters
Lead Navigator and 2nd in command: Matthiew "Matty" Grissom
A large man weighing in just under 300 pounds. Matthiew takes pride in being the lead navigator and Captain Renault's second in command. He is not a fighter in any way, so how he exactly help up in the face of insurmountable danger at Renault's side is a mystery known only to him and the captain.
Head mechanic Teddy Grufman.
An toublemaker in his youth, Teddy grew up a farm boy that fixed tractors for a living before taking off when he was sixteen to join an engineering core. He doesn't speak much about his past and the captain doesn't ask considering the man is a wiz with machinery. He and his protege' Nikola have been keeping the engines in tip top shape with barely enough supplies for years.
