Nytefall
Punished GNName: Hazan Volintis
Race: Turian
Gender: Male
Class: Infiltrator; tech and combat powers, two weapons.
Age: 46 CE
Homeworld: Palaven
Appearance: Hazan stands six feet tall, with a rather average build for a turian his age. His chitin is scratched and worn, especially across his face, with a very prominent scar running horizontally across the bridge of his nose and under both eyes. A second scar graces his chin, a small vertical scrape underneath his mouth. The colour of his chitin has not changed, but the stark white of his face paint has dulled slightly and become scraped and dinged from the battles he's fought. The pattern of his face paint resembles an upside down, cartoon representation of a sun: a curved stripe in a wide U shape that stretches from eye to eye and curves across the front of his face and mouth, with five stripes that point inwards towards his eyes. The pointy stripes are arrayed in a small fan that intersect with the curved stripe; one vertically across his mouth and nose, two diagonally across his cheeks, and two more horizontally on either side of his face.
His armour is scratched, battle-worn. Dinged and scraped. His visor, similarly, is worn but still usable. His eyes are a stark, bright yellow that stands out from the rest of his colourations.
When not on a job, he usually wears a slate grey hoodie with blue and white highlights, paired with a simple white t-shirt and grey jeans and shoes. He keeps his visor on at all times, mostly for convenience sake.
Psychological Profile: Hazan is a calculated, cold and precise sniper on the outside. His loyalty lies with those that pay him, and the few friends he's made over the years he's spent on Omega and in the Navy. Hazan keeps his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself and his team, and is fiercely loyal to those who believe in him and count on him. If you've known him for long enough, he is a reliable ally with a sharp wit and an even sharper eye. Soft-spoken and a turian of few words is how his colleagues in the Navy described him, a soldier driven by his job, humble, down-to-earth and resolute in his beliefs and morals.
Past the gun, however, is another story. Throughout his service in the Navy, the turian spent his downtime alone, either reading or brushing up on combat tactics or manoeuvres. The soldier in him enjoys the solitude; it gives him ample opportunities to go over strategies and game plans in his head without the cacophony of other voices that a planning room or a team brings. He worked well with his team in the soldiering life, but when it came to socialising, he often was at the back of the room, content with his own thoughts. The isolation only furthered as time went by, and often his successes in the field were overshadowed by the victories of others, even though his work was thoroughly appreciated by his superiors. Over the years, Hazan went from a soldier at the forefront of anti-piracy operations to just another marksman accompanying younger, talented fresh graduates, eager to prove themselves in the field.
When Hazan became a mercenary, the isolation became an "illness", something he made himself become accustomed to, working as an independent operator in the fringe systems. It irritated him, but he forged on regardless, his longing to be at the forefront taking a back seat to the allure of credits. But it comes through every now and then, especially when he's tipsy or drunk. Oftentimes he sees rookie mercs and soldiers committing the same mistakes he's made when he was their age or at their skill level, but they don't go to him for help. Secretly, he wanted to be that grizzled veteran that gave new blood advice for their lives, like his father had.
When not on duty or on a job, Hazan's method of relaxing is to throw on some comfortable clothes and listen to music to destress. Old Earth tunes satisfy this craving of his the most, specifically from classic Rock bands of the 1980s. Something about the electric guitar riffs and energetic drum beats just rings true with him. Along with this is a love of literature, from more modern novels to old Earth classics, he reads on his personal datapad to relax between missions or jobs.
Equipment:
Abilities:
Bio: Born to a regular urban Turian family on Palaven, Hazan grew up like any other man of his race would. He spent his days in school, learning about the galaxy, the various races that made up the Council and the Alliance, along with other subjects like math and science. Inquisitive and curious for his age, Hazan displayed an aptitude early on for following instructions and improvising directions if he wasn't given any, along with displaying a near single-minded dedication to accomplishing tasks he was given. Chatty and friendly, the young turian was all set for his time in the military that came all too soon, leaving him to follow in the footsteps of his parents. They had become security specialists after their service, setting up their own company on the Citadel while they ran operations from Palaven, and although becoming a glorified security guard didn't sit well in his gut, he was young and impressionable. Something he took with him into the military.
He enlisted in 2154 CE.
All throughout basic, he got hazed (get it) for being scrawnier than the other recruits. This developed the normally talkative turian into a withdrawn, yet dedicated soldier as he spent his time honing what skills he could in the military. A knack for following and improvising directions turned into a talent for map-reading and navigating, and his single-minded dedication developed into one of the best marksmanship abilities within his company. The combination of talents made his commanders consider him for reconnaissance training, and the year of his graduation, his commanding officer came up to him with a proposition: to specialise and develop those innate talents into something solid. A scout and a marksman.
A recon sniper.
He readily accepted the challenge, thinking it'd be a good way to hone his skills even further and to push his capabilities to his limit. After all, becoming first a reconnaissance trooper and then a sniper was no easy feat. But he dedicated himself to his training. His map-reading talent expanded into analysing terrain and the stars of different systems, navigating land by moonlight, traversing jungles, forest, valleys and even urban battlefields, along with sketching and making maps from scratch and memory work, just by having been on the terrain for several days. Scout school drove him right into the ground and back out, covered in enough mapping and navigation experience to make the turian one of the best of his class. Hazan had just gotten back on terra firm of Palaven before the second phase of his training began: marksman academy. Hazan shipped off-world again and spent the majority of his academy training on different environments and planets, learning how to adjust to every land he was in, compensating for wind speeds, elevation, planet rotation and different forms of bullet drop from the various rifles he was equipped with. A lot easier on the body than scout school, but harder on the mind. Still, Hazan bit down and forged through mental tests of wind speeds on famous planets and locations, bullet speeds of different firearms and even the average bullet drop on certain planets. All this to prepare him for his final test, a combination of both schools of training: dropped on a planet he's never been on, forging his way through harsh terrain, analysing an enemy structure and eliminating a single high-value target with one shot. All of which he accomplished without complaint. In 2161 CE, he graduated with full honours and became one of the turian military's many reconnaissance snipers in active service. The road was hard, rugged and destructive, but three years and two schools of training had honed Hazan into a fine-edged weapon, one that was being talent-spotted by many regiments through the turian army and navy.
One stuck out to him, though. The 132nd Light Patrol Squadron, a small battalion of ships and troops that patrolled the mass effect relays between the Terminus systems and Council space. For the men and women aboard the 132nd, this meant pirates, slavers and all manner of criminal known to border space. The 132nd took down these threats to the general peace and rescued whoever they could, to be returned to their families and home worlds in one piece. He signed on and the Squadron welcomed him warmly, assigning him as chief navigator aboard one of their small light vessels. His duty was simple: aboard the ship, to navigate the systems and chart their journeys to the various criminal hub worlds and highways that their targets sailed on. On the ground, he was part of a seven man fire team assigned for target elimination and VIP extraction, often picked to carry out hostage rescue missions and running security for traders and cartographers. If they weren't in combat, the Squadron spent their time training on different worlds, charting them for turian records while also analysing their terrain and formulating different strategies for each. He spent the remainder of his service years with the 132nd, making lasting friendships and learning a lot about the galaxy and how it worked.
All too quickly, 15 years passed. Hazan turned 30 in 2169 CE. He spent one last year in the 132nd, learning about the abject horror of Mindoir and being very angry about the whole situation without being able to help, before leaving. The last few years of pirate hunting and scouting new worlds had grown boring to him, and although the rest of his team didn't share the sentiment, he was the only one to harbour a very specific itch. The itch to travel, see more of the galaxy and try his luck at doing things on the other side of the law. Bidding farewell to his shipmates and promising to see them again whenever their paths crossed again, he left and took a one-way ticket to the only station where luck and skill with a gun meant everything: Omega.
On the decrepit station, he made a name for himself as a mercenary and an extremely proficient tracker and hunter of men. Taking the name of Ghost, he built his reputation amongst the local bounty hunting community by being one of the top baggers, getting his targets alive on more occasions than dead.
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Misc: Font colour is Light Blue for Hazan's spoken dialogue.
Race: Turian
Gender: Male
Class: Infiltrator; tech and combat powers, two weapons.
Age: 46 CE
Homeworld: Palaven
Appearance: Hazan stands six feet tall, with a rather average build for a turian his age. His chitin is scratched and worn, especially across his face, with a very prominent scar running horizontally across the bridge of his nose and under both eyes. A second scar graces his chin, a small vertical scrape underneath his mouth. The colour of his chitin has not changed, but the stark white of his face paint has dulled slightly and become scraped and dinged from the battles he's fought. The pattern of his face paint resembles an upside down, cartoon representation of a sun: a curved stripe in a wide U shape that stretches from eye to eye and curves across the front of his face and mouth, with five stripes that point inwards towards his eyes. The pointy stripes are arrayed in a small fan that intersect with the curved stripe; one vertically across his mouth and nose, two diagonally across his cheeks, and two more horizontally on either side of his face.
His armour is scratched, battle-worn. Dinged and scraped. His visor, similarly, is worn but still usable. His eyes are a stark, bright yellow that stands out from the rest of his colourations.
When not on a job, he usually wears a slate grey hoodie with blue and white highlights, paired with a simple white t-shirt and grey jeans and shoes. He keeps his visor on at all times, mostly for convenience sake.
Psychological Profile: Hazan is a calculated, cold and precise sniper on the outside. His loyalty lies with those that pay him, and the few friends he's made over the years he's spent on Omega and in the Navy. Hazan keeps his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself and his team, and is fiercely loyal to those who believe in him and count on him. If you've known him for long enough, he is a reliable ally with a sharp wit and an even sharper eye. Soft-spoken and a turian of few words is how his colleagues in the Navy described him, a soldier driven by his job, humble, down-to-earth and resolute in his beliefs and morals.
Past the gun, however, is another story. Throughout his service in the Navy, the turian spent his downtime alone, either reading or brushing up on combat tactics or manoeuvres. The soldier in him enjoys the solitude; it gives him ample opportunities to go over strategies and game plans in his head without the cacophony of other voices that a planning room or a team brings. He worked well with his team in the soldiering life, but when it came to socialising, he often was at the back of the room, content with his own thoughts. The isolation only furthered as time went by, and often his successes in the field were overshadowed by the victories of others, even though his work was thoroughly appreciated by his superiors. Over the years, Hazan went from a soldier at the forefront of anti-piracy operations to just another marksman accompanying younger, talented fresh graduates, eager to prove themselves in the field.
When Hazan became a mercenary, the isolation became an "illness", something he made himself become accustomed to, working as an independent operator in the fringe systems. It irritated him, but he forged on regardless, his longing to be at the forefront taking a back seat to the allure of credits. But it comes through every now and then, especially when he's tipsy or drunk. Oftentimes he sees rookie mercs and soldiers committing the same mistakes he's made when he was their age or at their skill level, but they don't go to him for help. Secretly, he wanted to be that grizzled veteran that gave new blood advice for their lives, like his father had.
When not on duty or on a job, Hazan's method of relaxing is to throw on some comfortable clothes and listen to music to destress. Old Earth tunes satisfy this craving of his the most, specifically from classic Rock bands of the 1980s. Something about the electric guitar riffs and energetic drum beats just rings true with him. Along with this is a love of literature, from more modern novels to old Earth classics, he reads on his personal datapad to relax between missions or jobs.
Equipment:
- M-92 Mantis sniper rifle
- M-3 Predator heavy pistol
- Serrice Council Phantom-class light armour, minus the hood.
- Ariake Technologies Kuwashii Visor.
- Kassa Fabrications Polaris omni tool, with omni blade functionality.
- Combat knife
Abilities:
- Tactical Cloak
- Adrenaline Rush
- Concussive Shot
- Incendiary Ammo
- Disruptor Ammo
Bio: Born to a regular urban Turian family on Palaven, Hazan grew up like any other man of his race would. He spent his days in school, learning about the galaxy, the various races that made up the Council and the Alliance, along with other subjects like math and science. Inquisitive and curious for his age, Hazan displayed an aptitude early on for following instructions and improvising directions if he wasn't given any, along with displaying a near single-minded dedication to accomplishing tasks he was given. Chatty and friendly, the young turian was all set for his time in the military that came all too soon, leaving him to follow in the footsteps of his parents. They had become security specialists after their service, setting up their own company on the Citadel while they ran operations from Palaven, and although becoming a glorified security guard didn't sit well in his gut, he was young and impressionable. Something he took with him into the military.
He enlisted in 2154 CE.
All throughout basic, he got hazed (get it) for being scrawnier than the other recruits. This developed the normally talkative turian into a withdrawn, yet dedicated soldier as he spent his time honing what skills he could in the military. A knack for following and improvising directions turned into a talent for map-reading and navigating, and his single-minded dedication developed into one of the best marksmanship abilities within his company. The combination of talents made his commanders consider him for reconnaissance training, and the year of his graduation, his commanding officer came up to him with a proposition: to specialise and develop those innate talents into something solid. A scout and a marksman.
A recon sniper.
He readily accepted the challenge, thinking it'd be a good way to hone his skills even further and to push his capabilities to his limit. After all, becoming first a reconnaissance trooper and then a sniper was no easy feat. But he dedicated himself to his training. His map-reading talent expanded into analysing terrain and the stars of different systems, navigating land by moonlight, traversing jungles, forest, valleys and even urban battlefields, along with sketching and making maps from scratch and memory work, just by having been on the terrain for several days. Scout school drove him right into the ground and back out, covered in enough mapping and navigation experience to make the turian one of the best of his class. Hazan had just gotten back on terra firm of Palaven before the second phase of his training began: marksman academy. Hazan shipped off-world again and spent the majority of his academy training on different environments and planets, learning how to adjust to every land he was in, compensating for wind speeds, elevation, planet rotation and different forms of bullet drop from the various rifles he was equipped with. A lot easier on the body than scout school, but harder on the mind. Still, Hazan bit down and forged through mental tests of wind speeds on famous planets and locations, bullet speeds of different firearms and even the average bullet drop on certain planets. All this to prepare him for his final test, a combination of both schools of training: dropped on a planet he's never been on, forging his way through harsh terrain, analysing an enemy structure and eliminating a single high-value target with one shot. All of which he accomplished without complaint. In 2161 CE, he graduated with full honours and became one of the turian military's many reconnaissance snipers in active service. The road was hard, rugged and destructive, but three years and two schools of training had honed Hazan into a fine-edged weapon, one that was being talent-spotted by many regiments through the turian army and navy.
One stuck out to him, though. The 132nd Light Patrol Squadron, a small battalion of ships and troops that patrolled the mass effect relays between the Terminus systems and Council space. For the men and women aboard the 132nd, this meant pirates, slavers and all manner of criminal known to border space. The 132nd took down these threats to the general peace and rescued whoever they could, to be returned to their families and home worlds in one piece. He signed on and the Squadron welcomed him warmly, assigning him as chief navigator aboard one of their small light vessels. His duty was simple: aboard the ship, to navigate the systems and chart their journeys to the various criminal hub worlds and highways that their targets sailed on. On the ground, he was part of a seven man fire team assigned for target elimination and VIP extraction, often picked to carry out hostage rescue missions and running security for traders and cartographers. If they weren't in combat, the Squadron spent their time training on different worlds, charting them for turian records while also analysing their terrain and formulating different strategies for each. He spent the remainder of his service years with the 132nd, making lasting friendships and learning a lot about the galaxy and how it worked.
All too quickly, 15 years passed. Hazan turned 30 in 2169 CE. He spent one last year in the 132nd, learning about the abject horror of Mindoir and being very angry about the whole situation without being able to help, before leaving. The last few years of pirate hunting and scouting new worlds had grown boring to him, and although the rest of his team didn't share the sentiment, he was the only one to harbour a very specific itch. The itch to travel, see more of the galaxy and try his luck at doing things on the other side of the law. Bidding farewell to his shipmates and promising to see them again whenever their paths crossed again, he left and took a one-way ticket to the only station where luck and skill with a gun meant everything: Omega.
On the decrepit station, he made a name for himself as a mercenary and an extremely proficient tracker and hunter of men. Taking the name of Ghost, he built his reputation amongst the local bounty hunting community by being one of the top baggers, getting his targets alive on more occasions than dead.
Strengths:
- Thorough - Nothing says risky business like charging in without a plan. Hazan is the type to take days, if not weeks, stalking a target and building a profile and a plan, before executing an assassination or a bag-and-tag.
- Focused - He will accomplish his mission without distraction.
- Determined - Nothing can stop him from achieving what he wants.
- Stealth - If you need someone to sneak past guards, become invisible in a crowd to stalk a target or to insert himself behind enemy lines, Hazan is your turian.
- Marksmanship - Give Haze a rifle and not only will he shoot straight, he will shoot whatever you need him to shoot.
Weaknesses:
- Sentimental - His attraction towards his friends and allies can usually result in him making stupid decisions.
- Blunt - Sugarcoating things isn't his speciality.
- Aloof - His time spent as a hunter of slavers and other scum meant that he's seen a lot, and his time spent on Omega only furthered his cool, distant nature, though he's been trying to change this for the better.
- Drunkard - He's usually found in a bar, with a turian brandy in his talons.
Misc: Font colour is Light Blue for Hazan's spoken dialogue.
