i make my meager offering. tell me how its shit so i can fix it

---

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/7TZSqOI.png[/img][/center]

[b][u]Name:[/u][/b] Tobias Barnabas Schmidt

[b][u]Age:[/u][/b] 18

[b][u]Place of Birth:[/u][/b] Armloch, a settlement deep in the Plain, nearer to the Reachline than Sonnehall

[b][u]Division:[/u][/b] Vulkan

[b][u]Background Check:[/u][/b] Tobias was born in Armloch, a backwater village at the edge of the world. He was one of sixteen Schmidts living and working on the family ranch; theirs was the twelfth generation to do so. The Schmidt patriarch always claimed they had some connection to the land, as if they drew their success out of the sand and rock. The old man's mysticism seemed foolish to Tobias even as a boy. His mind was drawn to that which was real. He took an early interest in the sciences. He wondered why the wind blew, why water flowed downwards, and how machinery functioned. It was the esoteric energy that powered everything around him that captured his imagination in particular. He obsessed over it. He would shadow Armloch's mechanics to learn all he could from them. Absorbing their teachings like a sponge, Tobias was never satisfied until he could mimic their every action. Every broken tool, vehicle, or farming implement set in front of him was a puzzle to be deciphered. The boy proved exceptional, for there were few challenges he could not meet.

Storms were an everyday occurrence out in the Plain. Any settlement wishing to last more than a fortnight needed to be prepared for the worst. Armloch found safety in its labyrinth of underground tunnels, both man-made and natural. Tight, twisting corridors where one wrong turn could land you in a pit of railroad spikes or a patch of landmines. Every settler had memorized the safe path to the bunkers where they were expected to wait out anything over a Benign 1. In practice, however, many of village's denizens choose to stay above ground to defend their property from the Regentier- the Schmidt family among them. The patriarch assured them that the land had protected his family for generations. There was nothing to fear from a light drizzle. Tobias's cousins often mocked him for joining the children and the elderly in the tunnels.

Tobias was seventeen when a roaring deluge washed over Armloch. It was sudden, too sudden for SNDP to be deployed ahead of time. Regentier were swarming the roads before anyone knew what was happening. The locals formed a posse to make a push for the bunkers, taking up what meager arms they had on hand to defend themselves. Tobias urged his family to join them, but the patriarch's voice rang louder and deeper. He was steadfast in his faith that they could hold the ranch. 

By the time the hunters arrived Armloch was nothing more than a pile of scattered rubble. Only a handful had weathered the storm beneath the earth; there were far too few of them to rebuild. Most of the survivors took refuge in the nearby townships and hamlets. A few- Tobias among them- followed the SNDP back to Sonnehall. There was nothing left for him here but dust and bitterness. Perhaps he could new purpose in the capital, where the technology he'd always obsessed over was at its bleeding edge.

Maybe he could ensure nothing like Armloch ever happened again.

[b][u]Graft / Weapon Specialty:[/u][/b] Artillery