[hider=Roald Cliffbloom]
Name: Roald Cliffbloom
Age: 43
Species : Ratling
Personality:
With his fellow Rogue Traders, whether alone with them or peacefully exploring a town with them, he is loud, crude, coarse, obnoxious, drunken, lecherous, gluttonous, and yet somehow still charming. He takes full advantage of his small nonthreatening stature and large eyes so that even when he presses things too far and gets a well deserved slap or shove the conversations generally keep on. He is easy to talk to, easy not to take seriously, and somehow despite how offensive he can be he rarely actually offends. He wants the things everyone wants, he's just more open about wanting them and generally wants more of them.

One of his goals is to become influential/powerful/wealthy enough to improve his peoples standing in the Empire. After the many slaughters and near genocide at Ornsworld he wants to secure a future for his people and be remembered for doing so.  His secondary goal is to get laid, get paid, and repeat that cycle over and over as much as possible until he drops dead. It is often not at all clear which is the priority for Roald.

Physical Description: [img]https://www.belloflostsouls.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Sniper_Ratling-e1480317787174.jpg[/img]
Roald is small in stature, not surprising for a Ratling, and hairy, also not surprising. He's tan and oddly fit for a race commonly known for their pot bellies. He has wild overgrown eyebrows and an up turned nose scrunched up with a large forehead. He has thick messy dark brown hair which is gradually going gray and sideburns as well as a neigh permanent five o' clock shadow. His default facial expression is a frown, though it quickly turns transforms into a wry smart ass grin at the slightest hint of double entendre.

Assignment Rating: Omicron
Manifests as nothing more than him being often perceived as a lucky little git.  As a Trailblazer he was often out on his own in places where if spotted he would likely quickly become a greasy hairy stain against a wall.  Through whatever miracle he often seems to have inexplicable luck and occasionally a sixth sense about exactly when is a good idea to ditch a trail or hide in a crag.

Skills: 
Roald is the consummate Trailblazer, having found a role that fits his natural abilities and inclinations rather well.

In town or, during his Auxilia days, around camp he is quite proficient at procuring near anything he or his unit need or want. When he chooses to he can be very outgoing and friendly, while he is almost always obnoxious and coarse. He is fairly good at disarming hostile but not yet violent strangers due to his diminutive size in the hope to gain useful information about nearby likely hostile areas or the location of fun shooty and/or explodey toys to play with.

Aboard the ship he serves as a mechanic.  His small size allows him to get around the moving parts more easily and to attend to them from angles that many wouldn't be able to.  His curiosity, persistence, and ample application of grease, oil, lubricant, or whatever other fluid he thinks likely to help him solve a problem have served the ship well in keeping things moving.  Often times the smell of oil and muffled sound of incoherent swearing echo from the oddest sections of the ship.

Despite his often loud and obnoxious nature among his crewmates when he is on the job he is eerily capable of evading detection and remaining undetected while moving through hostile areas at a relatively high rate of speed. He can swiftly move up the sheerest cliffs and wiggle through the smallest of openings due to his small stature and considerable proportionate strength. Having moved unseen through these areas he is then able to help others navigate their dangers with minimal risk utilizing freshly made trails or old trails freshly uncovered.

When things inevitably wind their way toward some folks he is fond of shooting a lot of folks he doesn't particularly care for he utilizes some of the tech has has managed to "acquire" over the years to harass, distract, and slow down the enemy. Stealth cloaks, combat webbing, ropes, hooks, all manner of traps, and his small size and fondness for finding crevices to stick himself into (hee hee) allow him to create opportunities for himself to engage the enemy when they are at their weakest.

When it comes down to the actual shooting he uses those traps, his small size, his speed, and his accuracy with his Long-Las to confound the enemy and attempt to set them up to be ambushed by his fellow Traders or caught in their own crossfire. He has the uncanny and sometimes downright unsettling ability to set traps up in the most devious of places to inflict grievous wounds and sew discord.

Wargear:

-Vox-Caster
-Monocular Telescope
-Canteen on Belt
-Cameleoline Cloak
-Climbing Gear

-Long-Las Rifle
-Combat Knife (attached to waist)
-Various traps and trap making materials

History: 
Roald's professional life began in the Militarum Auxilia. With his fellow Abhumans he served in this specialist division of the Astra Militarum as a member of a crew of Ratlings. He didn't manage to fit in quite as well as he had hoped. While his combat capabilities were exemplary his personality didn't do him many favors. Certain things are expected among a company of Ratlings but even then there are limits. Roald's inability to exist within these bounds led to his exile from the Militarum Auxilia.

He had served well as a Trailblazer. His confidence, restlessness and some tendencies toward solitude made him a perfect fit for the primary responsibilities of the role, and his penchant for explosions and sometimes rather disturbing exuberance when sending rounds into the general cranial vicinity of unsuspecting enemy troops served him well. He'd joined them in enough campaigns and saw them through enough tight spots that when his general debauchery and penchant for "borrowing" stuff from adjacent units and the populace in general got him in trouble he was assigned to stay on Bakka, participating in repairs and maintenance of the Imperial battlefleets docked there.

He figured out fairly quickly that the whole damn place was hot and smokey, the company wasn't much to look at, and there was no one and nothing fun to shoot. Though he enjoyed the work at first the sedate life of a full time mechanic would never fit him and so he sought to join on with the first Rogue Trader to make a stop on Bakka and begin his new life.  From his first day in a crew he has rarely wanted for work.
[/hider]