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"Roald," the Ratling introduced himself to the lad, Daniel, and stuck his hand up to shake while looking around.

Happily the lad was still with him, Roald figured they'd both have a greater chance of finding and being accepted by the Rogue Trader group together. Numbers were less suspicious, a big group was easier to trust than a small one but a small group was still drastically less suspicious than a lone recruit.

"Brains're the thing lad," he said formulating a simple but executable plan. Turning back he saw Daniel had a gun and learned he wasn't too afraid to use it. The lad was ready to go, which was a damn good thing to be right about now. It was hard to guess how well Daniel moved but he at least had the will to move.

"Here's what we're gonna do," he leaned in to Daniel and explained his plan. A simple plan really. They'd start from the outside and move in checking out the ships. It would be hard to tell for sure which ship was a Rogue Trader and they would have to be careful not to draw attention from anyone on board the ships, but they could both blend in pretty well. Some of the ships could be counted out pretty quickly, clearly military or clearly enormous shipping vessels. If they moved quickly between the remaining ships they could hopefully find the Traders before they themselves were found.
Roald smiled, the lad was headed the same way as he. Toward adventure, booze, women, hopefully a generous fortune, albeit for a better and more pressing reason. "No soul huh, folk have said the same about me." he replied, though the kid did have that look about him. Didn't seem to be a jest for Daniel as it was for him.

Roald didn't have too much trouble keeping pace with the lad, he was used to moving quick from scouting about, but he did find it difficult to keep up with the full sized youth who set a proper pace while also keeping his drink divided between his glass and his belly. While the lad explained a bit about himself and his situation Roald dealt with the pressing matter of that drink.

Belching after downing it rather quickly he replied, "Unscrupulous, dirty, soulless, in search o' real money an' dishonest work. Pleasure ta make your acquaintance an' you was right on all accounts. I'm lookin' for work, I'm a abhuman, and one a them flyers is surely ours."

The lad is almost too big for it but Roald moves to grab a hold of the lad who was leading and pull him just off toward an alley as they continue on. Daniel could resist easily if he'd a notion to but as Roald continues on, assuming the lad followed mostly of his own volition, he explains between robust burps.

"Skies been busy of late, docks are sure to be full an' flowin' through with folk," he peeks around corners, continuing to speak to the lad who is hopefully with him, "If'n you really ain't got no soul we should stick together. Word gets 'round fast out here. Lot of low folk like me heard about the Traders comin' into town. Folk might be lookin' for ya, shouldn't be lookin' for me but if they see me I might be in a spot. Got duties here I ain't real keen on seeing to, ya hear me lad?"
So often in this world so much of fate rested on the head of a pin, so much was up to chance. If it should lean one way you might find yourself dining among the powerful and fucking among their wives. If it should go the other way you might end up shot, run through, mutilated, chopped up, reconstituted, and serving some prick who steadfastly refuses to simply let you die. A single moment could change your whole life, the lives of your future children, everything. It all rests upon the head a pin.

Such is a slightly cleaned up version of Raold's thoughts as a sweaty out of breath young man walked up to him, causing him to stop short and very nearly indeed spill his beer.

"Oi, you know where the Rogue Trader that's coming could be found?"

"Fuck," Raold, summed up that previous paragraph into one word, "Almost made me spill my beer."

The young man was wearing unappealing but practical clothes, dirty sweaty, tired, and looking for some Rogue Trader's. He was Raold's kind of people.

"Yeah," he replied with a grin and took a long drink of his beer, "Ah know where they'll be. Name's Raold, what you running from kid?"
Still around as well. I’ll get some kind of intro post up today or tomorrow.
What rules did your themed anime arena use Tojiko?

You could use that as a starting place, see which rules seems reasonable to folks here, which need to be modified, and which just don’t jive at all. It won’t be an all encompassing scripture, but you could get a rule system in place and figure out a narrative to christen it.

Might take some work to find the right balance so the rules inform without constricting, but you never know until you throw an interest check up and test it out.
Roald Cliffbloom, Ratling Trailblazer

My Character Sheet was here, forgot about the PM thing.
@Jbcool Definitely have a thing for Halflings. Find it fun to fill a different role. In Fantasy I like them because they’re sort of unexpected heroes if heroes at all. Little dudes in a world full of murder machines. I really like Ratlings too. The idea of them contributing by laying traps, sabotage, scouting, and just climbing into weird overlooks to get an impossible shot. They’re nifty, and how annoying must it be to be one of the enemy all bad ass with a cool moniker preparing for a grand battle, tales of which will be heard for generations to come, only to get shot in the head by a big footed hairy midget.
I’m thinking of doing a degenerate Ratling Trailblazer. Used to work for the Militarum Auxilla but his sticky fingers and general debauchery saw to him being left on a nothing planet to help settle it. The soil there was crap and the company wasn’t much to look at either. He grew bored and joined up with the first Rogue Trader to set down on the dirt clod of a planet.

Seeks two things, though he’s not sure on which is the priority. One of his goals is to become influential/powerful/wealthy enough to improve his peoples standing in the Empire. His other goal is to get laid, get paid, and repeat until he drops dead.

Sneaky mean little bugger. He works for a paycheck, the notoriety, and to get his hands on booze, drugs, tech, and women from across the universe:
Danger, Danger Fontaine

I made him for the Arena RPs but I'll happy change things around if needed

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