Durandal Member


Alright. I knew it was going to be a short-ranged thing anyway. And the WS or A bonus does make more sense. Thanks for the tip! Changes are WS rather than I for Killer Weapon and I traded one BS for one T.






Username: Durandal Name: Sentinel (Self-given name) Age: 30 Gender: Formerly male Race: Cyborg Appearance: Standing close to 7 feet tall, Sentinel is smaller than many compared to the number of cybernetics he has installed in his body. His armor plating appears thinner than most others but this is because it is a higher quality metal, affording the same amount of protection with less weight. Most of his visible body has been replaced with mechanical parts, the only human feature being his face. Even this can be hidden by a visor attached to the back of his neck in combat situations. His plating is modeled after that of a Gothic knight and is colored bronze, blending in well with many backgrounds due to its lack of sheen and naturally camouflaging colors. His eyes are bright green and hair reddish with stubble on his chin. Bio: Born at the beginning of the Plague Years to normal human parents, Sentinel, as he calls himself, was sheltered from the effects of the devastation that followed by his parents. Hidden away in a crude safe house for ten years, his family managed to outlast the infection. Almost. Raiders discovered the hiding place and cracked the safe house open. Upon discovery Sentinel and his family were enslaved by the group, a large collection of gangsters, bikers, and survivors that roamed around conquering whatever they could find to survive. Having learned the skills of a mechanic and a coder from his parents (one a mechanical engineer, the other a software designer), Sentinel began concocting a plant to escape. A of yet unaware of the brutalities of the outside world, his dreams were quickly shattered the week after his capture when a family was executed for attempting to steal a car. Falling into a state of shock, he and his family began to weaken as the effects of the contaminant-ridden air overwhelmed their immune systems. Debating over what to do, the raiders settled with saving him, having only enough resources to morph one person into a cyborg. Sentinel watched as his parents slowly died over the course of two months, feeling helpless all the while. His only solace came from religion, a concept introduced to him at an early age by his parents. At age 17, he escaped when the raiders entered one of the broken metropolises scattered across the face of the planet. Hiding in the ruins, he found himself in a pre-Plague factory that had somehow managed to avoid looting. Rigging a generator, a skill learned during his imprisonment, parts of the factory had power restored to them. Utilizing his increased knowledge, Sentinel managed to manipulate the factory into creating parts for a new body to replace the failing cybernetics afforded him by the bandits. Even with the parts assembled the task required a team of people to work the components into his body. Sitting for days, he thought about everything until coming to one conclusion: the machines would have to do it. Programming the computers took another two weeks of coding and careful measurement as he designed his new body. During this time he found a plasma pistol, seemingly forgotten by someone in a haste, and decided to incorporate it into his design. Beginning the process, Sentinel immediately went unconscious as the drills plunged into his body. Waking up, Sentinel sat to discover the process had gone perfectly with only one problem; he had no memories left. On the table beside him was a note reading: *You almost bled out within the first minute. Lucky I found you and knew what to do. I've been following you for* *quite a bit. I knew your parents before the plague. Find me when you wake up, there's something I need to tell* *you.* *-Orion Jackson* Sentinel has wandered the Earth 13 years in search of this man, never finding him but always discovering clues. Having heard of a recent Deathwatch match, Sentinel suspected that Jackson would be in there, having found a trace of the man a few days before. Volunteering to be put in, Sentinel hopes to find Jackson and recover his life. Personality: Cold, unforgiving, spiritual, murderer. All of these words can be used to describe Sentinel yet he does not use them himself. Never one to belie the truth he shall admit his faults where he finds them or point out faults in others. Killing does not phase: nothing seems to do so. Logic is his primary guiding point yet it is counterbalanced by his spirituality. Seeking some form of salvation, he will not always pursue the best option. Killer Weapon: *Hand of Judgement*- Integrated into one of Sentinel's hands is a small plasma pistol. Not visible unless he removes the cover on his palm, it is fired mentally and as such can shoot extremely quickly. Many a man has died from underestimating the apparently unarmed cyborg. **Gameplay Stats** (To be explained below) Weight class: Medium WS:3 BS:2 S:3 T:4 W:3 I:3 A:2 Killer weapon stats: +2 S, +2 WS Edge: It Will Not Die!

>Paths leading to most known worlds, carved from magic and hosted in hyperspace.... >....You wanna know what would really suck if the Aeon Brood discovered? He he he he, sounds wonderful.

**Outpost 12, Bridge of the *Molotter* ** Guthan Erebus looked on the svicht holo-display, an ethereal blue swirl of light that coalesced into individual particles, affording exact details of the ships despite the range between the two fleets. One of the attacking ships struck a defender, causing an explosion to ripple along the defender's length. Unwittingly, this resulted in the annihilation of two of the attacking ships and the crippling of another by the debris that had flown out from the wreck. If it weren't for the fact that thousands had just dies in seconds the sight would almost have been amusing. Maybe for another day. Sensors rang quietly as five more ships warped into the system, matching the profiles of the defending fleet. The vessels spat out antiprotons on the attackers, causing even more casualties. Missiles flew from the attacking ships, dozens impacting on those of the defenders, destroying several of the original defenders. As quickly as they had arrived the battle was over. Beeps rang as some sort of transmissions was received by the sensor arrays on the *Molotter*, the signals being rewritten as neuropsionic coding so as to be accessible by the Sakari I addition to expedite the transfer of information to the rest of the fleet should it be necessary. An unoccupied svicht table began to shape an image, that of a face slightly similar to that of a Sakari. Basic structure and the ear shape appeared nearly identical, yet that was where the resemblance ended. Colors formed as the svet emitters adjusted, allowing Guthan to make out the blue hair and pale skin of the mysterious alien race. Despite the best efforts at decoding all that came out were garbled words, sounding nothing at all like any languages Task Force Osveti had encountered. Perhaps one of the Altar transports retained a database to ease with communication. Heuristic scans were being run in the meantime to attempt some sort of decoding. Even without understanding the words Guthan assumed they requested some sort of identification, none of which would mean anything to the mysterious civilization. After a brief thought, Guthan responded as best he could. "We are Task Force Osveti of Expeditionary Fleet Dorgar in the Tenth Emergence Front. Under Independence Protocols of the Standing Emergence Code, I am authorized to act as an official representative of the Sakari people and the Holy Dominion of C'ran. We extend greetings." As he finished, the svicht table compiled the information and reworked it into something resembling the structure of the code received by the sensors and transmitted it back, some of the translation work hopefully finished and implemented.