[Hider=Rook]Name: Rook Age: 20? He isn't sure. Race: Super Mutant Sex: Male (?) Skills: Construction, hand to hand/close range combat, basic first aid, cooking skills (oddly), able chess player Personality: Guarded, loner, distrusting of most,  fearless in the face of danger, if someone can make friends with him, there is almost blind loyalty, to the point of taking offense to those who attack those he cares about. Weapons & armor/clothing: Rook is a monster among men, standing at 8 foot 9 inches tall, he is rather intimidating. This is further compounded by the fact he wears hand made armor, welded steel plates, barbed wire wrapped bracers, and a helmet that covers most of his face, he looks closer to the knights of old, Pre-war holo tapes. His weapon is out that era as well. He carries a hand made pike. Plate steel welded to a steel pipe that is filled with cement and wrapped with leather. Given his size and power, it's a wonder any dare to challenge him. His only ranged weapon is almost comical. A simple, well worn 10mm pistol, and no, he is far from a good shot. He saves it for if he cannot reach something at all. (Previous) Occupation(s): Mercenary Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): None Backstory: One of the first FEV experiments by the Institute, Rook used to be a normal person. He doesn't recall where he was from, his name, or anything of that nature. He knew he enjoyed playing chess however, and has scattered memories of playing that with an old woman in blue.

When he was made, he was deemed a failure because of his refusal to take orders. They sent a corsair to end his life. This... did not go as planned, as Rook ripped his arms off and proceeded to beat the synth to death with them. He was eventually subdued, shot in the head, and dumped in the sewers.

The Institute, with all the power of their minds, had not realized just how resilient a Super Mutant could be. He awoke in the sewers, and fought his way free once more. He spent time healing, and learning more about his abilities.

His hide out was eventually attacked by Raiders. At first he planned to simply flee, but when he saw the slaves, the people being pushed around, he felt he had to do something. In the world's worst game of Hide and Seek, Rook made himself known. His massive physical strength made it easy to kill the first two, and acquire a weapon. A simple, elegant, deadly machete.

By the end of it, the raiders had been slain, and he opened the door to free the people... and they freaked out. He tried to explain his side, that he was not here to hurt them, but they remained unconvinced. When they escaped, they kept looking at him like he was a monster. He went through the raiders items, cobbled together crude armor, collected the weapons, and set off, calling himself Rook. It just seemed to fit. He spent years slowly working up a reputation among the wastelanders, who never seemed to trust him, and he grew to hate that. His most recent job had him guarding a caravan to Salem. The town was growing, and he didn't sign back on. Perhaps he could start a new here.[/hider]