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Name:
Weiland Voss

Alias/Nicknames:
Wei (Among Friends), Arak'tur (Noble Storm in his adopted tribes name), Silver Eyed Devil (Mostly family and those unfamiliar with him)

Date of Birth:
April 22nd, 1751

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Heterosexual

Class:
Nomad

Stats:
Strength: 13
Willpower: 13
Dexterity: 14
Speed: 13
Toughness: 13
Luck: 1

Skills:

Class Skill: Awareness

Deft Hands - When it comes to dexterity and working with fine motor skills, Weiland has an unusual knack for it. Be it reloading a musket or pistol at speed, assembling or disassembling traps, or other fine detailed work, the nomad is capable of doing so fast and accurately beyond what his peers normally would expect.

Close Quarters Combat - Despite the musket and pistols he carries, Weiland is a deft and fast hand in a brawl, preferring the knife he earned from his adopted tribe many years ago, coupled with employing leverage and putting people off balance to leave them vulnerable to finishing blows with said knife or to create enough distance to shoot them instead, employing the fast, brutal style of his adopted tribe's fighters.

Light Footed - Coupled with the dexterous hands, Weiland is able to not only cross most difficult terrain faster and more easily than normal, employing a variety of fast movement and, at times, brute force, but also tends to walk lightly enough to avoid tripping pressure plate traps, though tripwires will still trigger if he isn't paying attention for obvious reasons. He can also guide others, though he is limited to their speed to ensure they can safely traverse the hazards.

Trapper - Weiland has grown familiar with traps, to the point of not only using his personal kit to set them up when being pursued or protecting a camp, but also in identifying them as well as putting them to a newer, maybe less honest, purpose. After all, traps are for all sorts of prey, sometimes a little bigger than your average beast.

Equipment:
Musket
Khukri Knife
Trapper's Toolkit
x2 Flintlock Pistols

Appearance:
It is hard to tell that Weiland came from one of the Fioretza merchant families, having gone native shortly after being sent to oversee family holdings in the new world. This is mainly due to his stance and attire, always wary and expecting trouble, and dressed like the wanderer traders that still operate in the province of Peruzia. Standing at a meager 5'9", with a mess of dirty brown hair often times covered by the hood, one can be caught off guard by the steely silver of his eyes, a trademark of the Voss lineage and by product of constant and controlled breeding.

His attire is that of the tribe that Weiland both adopted, and was adopted by, hood and cloak worn and faded from long travel, the only real color being the red and gold colored scarf wrapped around his neck and dangling loose. Under the cloak and hood is the faded remenants of his old noble's garb, broken in and far more serviceable than new, prettier attire. One could even place the almost knee high boots, worn and faded with use and age, in a noble's court once upon a time.

Personality:
Even before abandoning the family he was firstborn to, Weiland was a stubborn soul, determined to do as he saw fit with his life. That bloody minded stubborness ran in the family, though unfortunately it was poised against pretty much everything the Voss merchant family had stood for. This gave the young Weiland a devil may care, flippant attitude that he carries with him casually to this day, coupled with a world weariness that really should not have been in a man so young. This was lessened to a degree by his time fighting alongside the tribe he was supposed to bring to heel and prevent the undercutting of profit for, giving him a more balanced, yet pragmatic, view of the world. Wanderlust is an eternal battle for Weiland, however, as it had driven him to agree to his family effectively kicking him out to the New World, driven him to abandon his entire life in favor of a chance at something new, and drove him to seek fortunes outside the tribe.

In short, Weiland is quick to deconstruct things as they are, being blunt and to the point with little regard for authority, though shows sometimes uncharacteristic excitement when faced with something new, or the potential for facing the new and unknown. Add in a dash of that well known Fioretzan spirit, which still rings true in Weiland, and you have a rather rough and tumultuous bundle to deal with, though invaluable for what he brings, and he knows it.

Biography:
The Voss Merchant House of the Social Republic of Fioretza, as the full, formal title on the coat of arms reads, is an old and established family, though one that is known for its risk taking and willingness to dig their heels in and push back hard. Founded and centered in Ocella, the capital of Fioretza, would maintain a tradition of the firstborn taking the rightful place that the father, and current Patron, of the house would leave in his wake after his passing. Weiland was born into such expectations, and was expected to learn everything deemed necessary, and many things that would improve upon what was already built by his father's hands. What none of them were ready for, Weiland included, would be how he responded to these demands and expectations.

Eventually, at the age of sixteen, his father and family Patron gave him an ultimatum. Fall in line, or head to holdings in the New World and see to sorting out recent problems with local tribes refusing to work within their lawfully given roles. For the Voss Merchant House, being forcibly sent to the New World was an exile, and it was expected to either scare him straight, or at least give him practical experience before he was called back. Weiland walked out, heading for the family docks with his meager belongings, a pair of pistols given to him for protection in the New World, and set sail for the province of Peruzia. It would not be an easy trip, the weather seeming to oppose the merchant ship at every turn, though they were fortunate enough to not run afoul of privateers or pirates targeting Fioretzan vessels.

Weiland would arrive and, much to the surprise of the aging aunt who had been running things and sending routine complaints about the tribals not falling in line, demanded to be given a means to meet with this tribe. With a local interpreter hired on, Weiland would spend the next two years meeting with and negotiating with the Glin'tur tribe, Silvered Storm tribe, though he grew to spend more time learning about them and their ways instead of actually working out how to fix the issues between his family holdings, and the tribal needs and desires. By his eighteenth birthday, he was fluent in the tribal language the Glin'tur shared with many others like them, and was made an offer by the tribe Matron, to join them and live a life he clearly was seeking and sorely needed.

Much to the shock of his bodyguards, who had been assigned to partially make sure he didn't go native and escape, Weiland simply turned up missing one day. Patrols were sent out, bounty hunters hired, and for awhile the Voss Merchant House searched for their missing firstborn. Rumors of a "Silver eyed tribal" always brought them running, though after several years they had given up spending concerted efforts, only sending the odd, dedicated parties and bounty hunters were only promised pay should they actually find and return him alive and well. Weiland would learn that his younger sister of several years would be taking over in his stead, a rare break of tradition due to his refusal to fall in line with his family desires. He would spend ten years with the Glin'tur tribe, wandering and learning to fight and move as they did.

Shortly after Weiland's 28th birthday, the wanderlust and desire to roam settled in again, much to the chagrin of a tribeswoman only a few years his junior. Such things were not unheard of, and even encouraged at times, as it allowed diversity and experience to be shared among the tribes, strengthening them all. Weiland was given his musket and the signature blade of the Glin'tur, a large, curved knife that functioned both as tool and weapon, as well as being allowed to keep his trappers kit and some basic supplies, before he set out. This whole time he had also kept and maintained his paired pistols, sturdy, well made flintlocks that lacked the fanciness or complexity of some weapons, and departed into the northern most portion of Peruzia. Operating out of Fernetti's Horn, he would sell his services as a guide and fighter, putting to good use both the formal training he received growing up, blended with the brutal and vicious tribal fighting of the Glin'tur.

Two years would pass like this, earning the nickname of the "Silver Eyed Devil" for his downright underhanded fighting tactics, when much to Weiland's surprise, a Letter of Marque made out for him would find itself finally delivered to him.
Ansgar Staudinger


Glaring at Andrea with a evil eye when she dared to mention trying to keep him from doing anything on the ship without talking to her first, his remark was rather pointed and blunt given the idea itself was absolutely absurd. That would be like expecting a cook to talk to the person who drove supplies to the kitchen before cooking, or the doctor to discuss the procedure with the damned janitor. The day he willingly went groveling to some jumped up flightstick fiddling, egotistical tosser like her, he'd swallow his own gun. "Oh, aye, ah'll jus' soddin' giv' up e'en t'e slig't'st o' repair's 'till ah've begged fer yer blessin'. Go stroke yer ego s'me mo'e, bitc', an' stic' to all yer good fer, ferryin' the adults w'ere t'ey need t' be. Glor'fied, 'xpend'ble taxi driv'r..." *

The discussion on the Judge, who apparently was already on board the ship, continued as others arrived from their shore leave, bringing supplies and the like, mainly the point that the Judge would prioritize his mission over their little operation. As much as he didn't trust or enjoy having a Judge on board, it was a good point, though he had to offer a slight rebuttel, taking a minute to fish a coffin nail out from one of his pockets and light it, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke up into the air. He wouldn't just go trusting this Judge, even if he ended up aiding them along the way, government figures tended to not be the most reliable sort. "Aye, 'e'll not bot'er us, rig't 'till it suit's 'im to bot'er us. A'd keep 'least one good ey' on 'im, jus' t' be sure, savvy?" **

The Captain's remark on his home brought a snort, whether of amusement or annoyance was hard to say as Ansgar got the last crate he had assigned to him loaded up, turning back to smirk rather off puttingly for a few moments, half smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth as he rebutted on her remark. Whether he was purely jesting or took offense to the remark was hard to say, though odds were he really didn't and was just mouthing off again. "O' aye, tras' talk me 'ome away from 'ome, ah'll not mind. Not at soddin' all Lass. T'is 'eap resupplied t'e s'ip, so ah' wouldn't be t' quick to disparage, aye? Ah'll be in t'e engine room if'n ye need me." ***

With that, Ansgar took another drag, blowing the smoke outside before marching inside of the ship, making a beeline back towards the engine room, which was where he all but lived while they were in transit. He preferred being back there during transitions from space to docks, especially ground based ones, though fortunately the Hub wasn't by far one of the less rough exits for most ships that weren't strapped to it for long term stays. Barring corrupt or greedy 'officials' trying to bribe or steal what they can off those too stupid to know better, but that wasn't them. Once back in the engine room, he'd undo the top half of his heavy attire, tying it off like a waistband using the sleeves, leaving the tank top, and arms covered in tattoos, exposed. It got warm in the engine room, and he'd rather have the flexibility and dexterity of a tanktop and exposed arms than the dubious protections of the heavy attire he wore outside the engine room.

Ansgar Staudinger


Ansgar was moving crates at a brisk pace, seemingly unbothered by the smell that was no doubt getting to the others. The Hub was home for him, well home in this new place humanity had found themselves in, and he'd grown up with the stench and culture that humanity that had drifted into the Hub had found themselves in. He was all but grinning and humming to himself, comfortable at home despite having been disowned by his family. He'd been catching up with old gang members during his free time, putting his ear to the ground as it were and digging around for information as to current rumors and goings on. The arrival of the Veritas Lux Mea had indeed generated a lot of rumors and discussions as to why that ship was here. He'd not divulged his position on board said ship, of course, he was gathering information not handing it out, but it gave him some interesting thoughts as to what was going on at the Hub.

His attention was dragged over to his current superior as she muttered complaints about where their passenger was supposed to be. Ah, yes, the Judge, Ansgar was not looking forward to that. Anyone who'd any experience in the criminal in this new place knew about Judges, and the amount of trouble they tended to bring along with them. And yet, here they were, about to shuffle one to wherever the sodding hell the bastard wanted to be. He did speak up in response to the captain, in his own manner of speaking of course, hefting up another crate as he spoke, continuing to work while remarking on the situation at hand. "Well shite lass, th' sodding wanker doesn' show, tha's less stress. Tosser's are nothin' but trouble. Least got ye'self a down payment, jus' in case?"
@Shiva The accent may even translate into how his dialogue is written, so it's just as unintelligible to us as it is to the characters! Side note though: Any thoughts on a Discord server for the RP or the like? Seen that useful for quick questions and plotting.
@Shiva Alright, that's added, anything else I need to fix or shall I move him over to the CS tab?
@Shiva Fixed it, how's Mars work for ya?
@Shiva Alright, Ansgar is finally sorted, just in time for me to crash for work tomorrow. Also, I figure he'd be on board for long enough to at least be familiar with the mechanical systems of the ship, at the very least.
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