Raxacoricofallapatorius

The Outlander [Sci-fi Epic Adventure]

Name:
Sciurus Rowan

Age:
29

Previous affiliation:
The Searing Gauntlet

Description:
Standing at a whopping 5’7” and weighing in at a total of 143 lbs., Rowan isn’t exactly intimidating. His shoulder length ginger hair, moody brown eyes, and spattering of freckles makes him look like the kind of person who would enjoy frolicking for hours on end in a field of wildflowers (spoiler alert: that’s exactly the kind of person he is). What he lacks in height he makes up for in attitude, and carries himself as if he were someone in authority (he’s not, really). He has his battle scars, but has been fortunate enough to have never sustained any life-threatening injuries. At first glance he certainly wouldn’t seem like a very rowdy or coarse fellow, although once you get him talking it’s hard to shut him up, especially with the habit he’s got of showering verbal abuse onto friend and foe alike.

Armor

A custom-designed suit of surprisingly lightweight body armor built for stealth and agility. Unfortunately, what it gains in freedom-of-movement it loses in protection from brute force and is thus repaired often. The mask serves not only as a filter for toxic atmospheres, but also a temporary air supply in the event its wearer suddenly finds himself floating in the vacuum of space (which is very unlucky, let me tell you…)

Skills:
Years of training have honed Rowan’s athletic abilities, making him a pro at climbing, running (away), and navigating unfamiliar terrain. He can think on his feet, solve problems, and make critical decisions quickly and without hesitation. He’s proficient in the use of a plethora of weapons but prefers long-range shooting to close-combat. He’s very good at disguises. More personal skills consist of card tricks, witty comebacks, and underhanded gambling tricks. He considers himself very lucky and likes to count that in with the rest of his skills as well.

Biography:
Sciurus Rowan was born into a small Terra colony in the Andromeda galaxy. His parents served as ambassadors for the Church of Harmony and were often called upon to travel from world to world as the Searing Gauntlet dictated. Much of Rowan’s early years were spent on interstellar vessels and space flight has come to feel more like home to him than any of the planets he was privileged to spend a few months or a year on when he was growing up (though he does have a soft spot for rural biospheres).

With a vested interest in his parents work, it looked as if young Sciurus was destined to become a politician. A lover of knowledge and learning, he applied to and was accepted by a stately academy with the intent of launching into a career as a diplomat. Everything changed, however, when a terrorist attack claimed the lives of his father and mother. His life seemed to go downhill after that, university life was no longer interesting to him as he realized how agonizingly slowly change is brought about by the government.

The current road of his life shifted suddenly when Rowan, on a whim, enlisted as a soldier into the Church of Valor. By doing so he hoped to make more of a difference in the universe, although the truth of the matter is he’s struggling with a revenge complex. Military life suited him surprisingly well. While he wasn’t naturally big and strong, he was athletic and adaptable—strength came with training as well as other necessary skills, and some unnecessary ones too.

He rose quickly in the ranks not only as a fighter but a brilliant strategist. Life was going pretty well again, but started to ebb as he began to fall in with the wrong sort of people. Gambling was the pitfall that did him in. More specifically: he cheated and was found out. With a severe demotion and half-a-dozen veterans very, very cross with him, Rowan felt it appropriate to flee for his life. In order to preserve some of his former lifestyle he went where no self-respecting soldier would ever go: The Church of Reckoning, naturally.

Within this shadow of his former position, Rowan’s skills were applied as an assassin. As with everything he set his mind to, he was extremely successful. The analytical part of his brain made him a very efficient killer, and since most of his work was now performed solo, he had the freedom to make judgment calls that would have gotten him court-marshaled as an ordinary soldier. His willingness to challenge the odds by working alone, coupled with his recent success, has made him a valuable asset to the Searing Gauntlet’s veiled agendas (truth is he isn’t brave, the paycheck’s just bigger when you don’t have to split it with a team).

Hearing word of the Outlander through the grapevine, Rowan actually volunteered for a spot on the ship against his employers’ suggestion of remaining a free agent. His luck was going to run out eventually, and like any sensible human being, he didn’t want to be on his own when it happened.

The Outlander [Sci-fi Epic Adventure]

<Snipped quote by Raxacoricofallapatorius>

Just one note; The Feral Shadow have literally JUST returned, so they couldn't be responsible for his parents deaths. If you could change it to a terrorist splinter group of the Domain or something then that'd be rad. Other than that Rowan is accepted!

@Kingfisher

My bad, I guess I was a bit confused about the timeline. Fixed it.

Reboot - Prized Bride

@ClocktowerEchos nice set lol

The Outlander [Sci-fi Epic Adventure]

Sciurus Rowan

Name:
Sciurus Rowan

Age:
29

Previous affiliation:
The Searing Gauntlet

Description:
Standing at a whopping 5’7” and weighing in at a total of 143 lbs., Rowan isn’t exactly intimidating. His shoulder length ginger hair, moody brown eyes, and spattering of freckles makes him look like the kind of person who would enjoy frolicking for hours on end in a field of wildflowers (spoiler alert: that’s exactly the kind of person he is). What he lacks in height he makes up for in attitude, and carries himself as if he were someone in authority (he’s not, really). He has his battle scars, but has been fortunate enough to have never sustained any life-threatening injuries. At first glance he certainly wouldn’t seem like a very rowdy or coarse fellow, although once you get him talking it’s hard to shut him up, especially with the habit he’s got of showering verbal abuse onto friend and foe alike.

Armor

A custom-designed suit of surprisingly lightweight body armor built for stealth and agility. Unfortunately, what it gains in freedom-of-movement it loses in protection from brute force and is thus repaired often. The mask serves not only as a filter for toxic atmospheres, but also a temporary air supply in the event its wearer suddenly finds himself floating in the vacuum of space (which is very unlucky, let me tell you…)

Skills:
Years of training have honed Rowan’s athletic abilities, making him a pro at climbing, running (away), and navigating unfamiliar terrain. He can think on his feet, solve problems, and make critical decisions quickly and without hesitation. He’s proficient in the use of a plethora of weapons but prefers long-range shooting to close-combat. He’s very good at disguises. More personal skills consist of card tricks, witty comebacks, and underhanded gambling tricks. He considers himself very lucky and likes to count that in with the rest of his skills as well.

Biography:
Sciurus Rowan was born into a small Terra colony in the Andromeda galaxy. His parents served as ambassadors for the Church of Harmony and were often called upon to travel from world to world as the Searing Gauntlet dictated. Much of Rowan’s early years were spent on interstellar vessels and space flight has come to feel more like home to him than any of the planets he was privileged to spend a few months or a year on when he was growing up (though he does have a soft spot for rural biospheres).

With a vested interest in his parents work, it looked as if young Sciurus was destined to become a politician. A lover of knowledge and learning, he applied to and was accepted by a stately academy with the intent of launching into a career as a diplomat. Everything changed, however, when a terrorist attack claimed the lives of his father and mother. His life seemed to go downhill after that, university life was no longer interesting to him as he realized how agonizingly slowly change is brought about by the government.

The current road of his life shifted suddenly when Rowan, on a whim, enlisted as a soldier into the Church of Valor. By doing so he hoped to make more of a difference in the universe, although the truth of the matter is he’s struggling with a revenge complex. Military life suited him surprisingly well. While he wasn’t naturally big and strong, he was athletic and adaptable—strength came with training as well as other necessary skills, and some unnecessary ones too.

He rose quickly in the ranks not only as a fighter but a brilliant strategist. Life was going pretty well again, but started to ebb as he began to fall in with the wrong sort of people. Gambling was the pitfall that did him in. More specifically: he cheated and was found out. With a severe demotion and half-a-dozen veterans very, very cross with him, Rowan felt it appropriate to flee for his life. In order to preserve some of his former lifestyle he went where no self-respecting soldier would ever go: The Church of Reckoning, naturally.

Within this shadow of his former position, Rowan’s skills were applied as an assassin. As with everything he set his mind to, he was extremely successful. The analytical part of his brain made him a very efficient killer, and since most of his work was now performed solo, he had the freedom to make judgment calls that would have gotten him court-marshaled as an ordinary soldier. His willingness to challenge the odds by working alone, coupled with his recent success, has made him a valuable asset to the Searing Gauntlet’s veiled agendas (truth is he isn’t brave, the paycheck’s just bigger when you don’t have to split it with a team).

Hearing word of the Outlander through the grapevine, Rowan actually volunteered for a spot on the ship against his employers’ suggestion of remaining a free agent. His luck was going to run out eventually, and like any sensible human being, he didn’t want to be on his own when it happened.

:D

Trying to come up with cool character names like:

Sometimes I think my sense of humor is wasted on you guys.

Trying to come up with cool character names like:

Ah, here's a keeper

The Outlander [Sci-fi Epic Adventure]

This looks pretty cool.

I Honestly Did Not Need to Know That -- Useless Facts

If you give Coca-cola to a Raccoon it will die because the carbonation will cause its stomach to explode.

Horses can't vomit.

In a woman's lifetime she will lose about ten gallons of blood through menstruation. That is enough blood loss to die twenty times over.

[ADV]Deadland Wasteland: The Beginning [Non-linear Zombie-esque Apocalypse][18+][Suggestiveness and Violence][Nation//Adventure]

This looks really cool.

Reboot - Prized Bride

Torin Hellsong

Raya T'mivus Kasari Liesma

The night had not been boring, to say the least, although Torin would be the first to admit that in the heat of the moment he may have gotten a little carried away. As dawn broke he woke before Raya, and as he traced his fingers over the sleeping woman beside him he could feel the slight change in the texture of her skin where he had bruised her, particularly on her neck. It entered his mind that he might have her again, and his arm tightened around her. But then, there would be plenty of time for that later, and she seemed so exhausted already. He thought of everything she must have gone through already, and decided it would be better for her morale if he didn't ask too much from her too quickly. Instead, he kissed her face, then rose from the bed. The air was cold and Torin muttered a curse under his breath. He couldn't wait to leave this dreadful place.
- - -

It wasn't long before Torin's party was prepared to depart. The letters written by Kasari and Raya the previous night were given to two of Torin's men, who departed from Shadow Worth on the east road toward Gemminia, whilst the rest of them turned to the west and home. The ride back was not comfortable, but at least there was plenty of room for the four of them--Torin, his sister, and new wives. Tyrai had spoken very little since the morning, and her mind seemed to be elsewhere as Torin told his brides what they ought to expect once they arrived. Mostly this information had more to do with the culture and the people, and he made it perfectly clear that he expected them to pay tribute to the Hellsongs' patron gods, adding that they of course had the freedom to worship any of the other Drakken gods as well.

The Hellsong Estate, as it is had come to be known, was built on a very geographically favorable location. Travelleing south along the mountainous spine that separates Drakka from Gemminia there is a string of smaller mountains that branch out into the Western Desert near the coast, creating a sheltered hollow about a hundred leagues in diameter. Historically known as "The Rothfeld Keep" it has since been renamed "The Valley of Zor" after Tararch Hellsong took control of it a hundred years earlier, in honor of his wife's patron goddess Zoralia. It is surrounded by mountain peaks on two fronts, harsh desert on the third, and the forth being the Southern sea. The dramatic contrast in landscapes afforded the party some very beautiful sights over the course of their journey. All but Torin, that is.

The countryside was dotted with farms and villages, all of which appeared to be thriving. Zor had six major cities that served as trade hubs. Of these, two were port cities with the other four all residing along the border. Torin's control over all of this was simply inherited from his father when he died. Although where Tararch had left trading posts, Torin had built businesses and converted simple street merchants to factory owners. Though he did not personally preside over every settlement, those whom he had appointed to govern were loyal to him. Torin himself lived in Riesling, the city of his father, and the oldest one in Zor. It was situated just so that when one stood on the wall one could look to the north and see mountains, to the west and see desert, to the east and see plains, and to the south and see the ocean. Approaching Riesling it was obvious that the architecture predated Tararch by at least five hundred years judging by the Gothic design. Age, it seemed, had not weakened the fortress, although some sections of the wall were under construction, not because they needed maintenance but to improve their functionality.

As the carriage entered the city the townsfolk stopped whatever it was they were doing to hail them. People lined the street leading up to the ancient castle, calling out blessings as they passed by, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever it was their lord had returned with. It was curious to note that every man appeared to be armed. Whether he was a merchant or a smith or a stable hand. Each one of them carried a sword strapped to his belt. By the time they reached the gates of Riesling Castle's courtyard a small crowd had gathered, buffered by a line of several dozen guardsmen. It seemed that Torin was a very popular nobleman, but it was not only he who was a celebrity but Tyrai as well. They stepped down from the cab and out into the open and several people cheered and called out to them. Torin raised a hand in greeting and Tyrai merely nodded her head, but the acknowledgement was enough for their audience. They turned and the guards moved to escort them inside along with Raya and Kasari, but a sudden angry shout made Torin hesitate. A woman had pushed her way past the guards and was running frantically toward them, clutching a large bundle in her arms. She was elderly, with gray hair and dark creases under her eyes.

"My lord!" she gasped, falling to her knees before Torin who did not turn around. Two guards moved to grab her and drag her away but Torin raised his hand and they ceased, casting uneasy glances at one another. "My lord," she said again, her voice shaking. She pushed the bundle in her arms toward him. It was a child, no more than four years old at most, dressed in rags and shivering. "My lord, please. His parents succumbed to illness. I am old and can no longer care for him properly. Please, my lord, won't you be merciful to this child?"

At last Torin turned to face her. "Woman, do you think the house of Hellsong is large enough to be home to every orphan in Zor? Send him to his relatives so that they may do their duty by him."

"He has none, my lord," the old woman said in a pleading tone, "Please, take him. Just until he's old enough to become an apprentice. It won't be many years, he's already a bright child."

The silence hung between them for several long seconds. Then several onlookers gasped as Torin knelt to the ground and touched the boy's face. "What is your name?"

The boy, who was staring wide-eyed at the nobleman's mask managed to tell him, "Jaan, s-s-sir."

"Very well, Jaan." He lifted the child into his arms and stood, to the delight of the townsfolk who cheered and applauded him. The woman thanked him profusely and allowed herself to be led away. He carried the boy inside and, once they were out of sight of the crowd, handed him off to one of the guards. "Introduce him to the others. I will address them at dinnertime." The guard nodded and spirited the boy away. Tyrai announced she was going to retire and left them.

"Raya, Kasari, I welcome you both to my home. I would be honored if you would call it yours as well." He ushered them into a large hall which was currently filled with several dozen people, the servants of the household. They bowed collectively to welcome home the master of the house as well as his new brides. Many of them, especially the female servants, appeared to be of Gemminian heritage, but there were others who must have come from elsewhere, and even a handful of Drakken. "Lissa, Arealle." Two maidservants stepped forward. "These will be your personal servants," he said to the two Gem brides, "They'll see you to your rooms and make sure you're comfortable. You'll have to excuse me for the time being-- there is some business I must attend to. I'll give you both a tour later, but until then the servants will help you get wherever you need to go."

With that, he left them. The rest of the household staff dispersed but the two women who had been appointed to assist the girls remained. Lissa was a kind-looking middle aged woman, Arealle was younger and short with rounded features. They both curtsied to Raya and Kasari before showing them to their personal rooms in the east wing of the castle. Each room was spacious and richly furnished and each included a full wardrobe. Lissa informed them that any article of clothing could be tailored to better fit the girls if need be. Baths were drawn for both of them and after that they were left to their own devices until Torin returned.

@WeepingLiberty@my Lalia
(Feel free to puppet the servants around, they're all NPCs)