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Just saw concept art of a Dug firing a blaster with its feet and now a small part of me wants to make a Dug medic for no reason other than imagining the look on peoples' faces as my character commences life-saving battlefield surgery by picking up a scalpel between his toes.
@Gcold awesome, I'll have a read of the other sheets and see what I can come up with.

After a quick glance at the sheets it looks like you guys are without a medic. Permission to take a stab at the job?
Absolutely interested, I'll have a read of what others have submitted and come up with something.
Still recruiting here or are you guys approaching full?
Apologies in advance for those of you that have to read my post. I'm far from happy with it but I didn't want to leave it any longer and hold everyone up. The next one shall be better.
T H A D U R I M



And just like that, it was over. The candles relit, the symbols that had been strewn across the floor just moments ago were mounted back in place. If it weren't for the corpses of Hedlef's servants face down on the floor and twisted into inhuman shapes. The curtains were still swept back, and Thadurim knew if he was a little taller he would have a fantastic view of the swirling fog that was choking the villa. Above all, it was cold. So, so cold. The air had an icy grip on Thadurim, rooting him to the spot. Any sort of colour had drained from his skin as soon as whatever that thing was had appeared, and he highly doubted any of it had returned yet.

Thadurim tried to clear his head but it was just impossible. The image of his own corpse swaying in a noose, his eyes bulging and the flesh of his throat twisted and bruised, was all he could think of. It had looked so real. Maybe it was an illusion or a curse or some sort of demented magic, but it had seemed so real. The desperation in his own dead face terrified him more than anything. At least he had been right about not getting much sleep after they arrived, but he had thought it would be for very different reasons. Instead, he was going to be having nightmares about his hanging corpse for the next decade.

He turned to the rest of the room. No one looked sure of themselves, but then again how could they? No one could possibly understand what had just happened. He was the only one who hadn't screamed in defiance at the hooded figure, partly due to confusion and partly due to fear. Now he wished he had, if even just to make himself feel a little bit better. Thadurim stepped towards the centre of the room and squatted down, grabbing a handful of dust and ash from the pile that used to be the table. He opened his fingers slightly, sighing as the blackened powder slipped through to the floor. This wasn't an illusion, this was all frighteningly real.

The old dwarf stood straight, as tall as he could. The sight of him standing tall and still being a foot smaller than anyone may have been amusing had the tone of the room not changed so drastically. "I..." words failed him for the second time today. He mulled the words of the visage over carefully. Trust not the grandeur. Thadurim looked around the room at the ornate symbols and walls of books, remembering where he was and suddenly feeling very, very unsure of his surroundings. This couldn't be Hedlef's doing. Could it? No, of course not. But something still nagged at him in the back of his mind. This wouldn't be a simple contract. There were no bandits or pests, no special guests to protect. It was some sort of... curse?

"What in the Maker's name just happened?" He finally let the question spill out. He said it more for himself than the others, trying to verbalise his thoughts in the hope it might help him clear his head somewhat. Obviously, no one was going to turn around and respond by explaining exactly what that thing was, where it came from, what it meant and why. Finding out, he imagined, would be part of what Hedlef had summoned them all here for. The other part would be the quest the visage had spoken of, the one that was supposedly doomed to fail. The image of his swaying corpse shot through his brain like a well-aimed arrow. The memory was almost painful.
@Arkitekt still here.
@Lauder honestly I can't see any post that would be meaningful here as I'd just be reiterating, let's move along and I'll work on first post after that!
Samuel Zheng, the Medic. Mostly complete but still subject to change, all comments and criticism incredibly welcome. And if anyone can think of a Vice for this guy you would be helping me massively.

I'm leaning towards a medic character and thinking of making him a student who was booted from medical school before finishing (maybe drugs, maybe cheating, have not yet decided), hasn't been able to get any work since, has been struggling to keep up with paying fees and is largely disowned by his parents. Has the right skillset and nothing to lose. Sound ok? If not I'm still confident of the medical idea, maybe a Vet as an origin instead.
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