WS 58****, BS 10, S 60*, T 52, Ag 35*, Int 20, Per 32, WP 32, Fel 20 (*= upgrade purchased).
Divination - Minor Mutation - Brute
Skills - Speak Language (Low Gothic), Awareness, Dodge, Navigation (Surface), Survival, Tracking
Talents - Melee Training (Primative, Chain), Ambidexterous, Thrown Weapon Training, Lightning Reflexes, Counter Attack, Furious Assault, Sure Strike, Two Weapon Weilder (Melee), Swift Attack,
Traits - Iron Stomach, Primative, Rite of Passage
Gear - Gang Leathers, Charm, Chain Axe x 2, Control Collar
Mementos - Scars
Mutations - Vampyr (Red Thrist), Brute
Wounds - 20
Home World - Feral
Quirk - Kill Tally.
Insanity - Dead Comrade
Corruption - Blood Lust, Fell Obsession
Age - 34
Build - Muscular
Description - Grey Eyes, Blonde Hair, Tan Skin,
Player - Louis
Ophelia slowly walked down steel grate of the long corridor
to the suite. She breathed out a sigh, silently cursing Kallos for not placing
the wretch in a cell.
The door slid open at her touch, revealing a formerly luxurious sweet now a shadowy hell, covered in soiled clothes and rotting food. The only decoration not smashed to pieces was a single desk, on which sat two pristine chain axes, clearly the creature cared for nothing but death. The she saw him, sitting a corner, eyes wide veins bulging.
“Throne alive,” Ophelia cursed, he had been the first recruited. A final joke from Wroth, as if Silon had not been bad enough she now had two barely stable killers to take care of. Slowly she pulled a thick ring of metal from a pouch hidden in her skirts,
“I care little for your past, or even your future, but you will be of use. I had a … former college produce this some years ago on an assignment and you will wear it or find yourself in the reclamation facility.” She laid the collar on the desk, running a finger over the twin effigies of death, before turning on her heel and leaving.
Left alone Ulth, moved to the desk, his every motion an implied threat even to empty room, he took the collar with a gentle grasp at odds with his entire existence. Slowly and without knowing why sealed the steel circlet about his neck, her words had meant nothing, the pomp of a young girl, but he had felt death pour from her. She would lead him into untold rivers of blood and the suffering of the enemies of the emperor, and he would revel in it.
The door slid open at her touch, revealing a formerly luxurious sweet now a shadowy hell, covered in soiled clothes and rotting food. The only decoration not smashed to pieces was a single desk, on which sat two pristine chain axes, clearly the creature cared for nothing but death. The she saw him, sitting a corner, eyes wide veins bulging.
“Throne alive,” Ophelia cursed, he had been the first recruited. A final joke from Wroth, as if Silon had not been bad enough she now had two barely stable killers to take care of. Slowly she pulled a thick ring of metal from a pouch hidden in her skirts,
“I care little for your past, or even your future, but you will be of use. I had a … former college produce this some years ago on an assignment and you will wear it or find yourself in the reclamation facility.” She laid the collar on the desk, running a finger over the twin effigies of death, before turning on her heel and leaving.
Left alone Ulth, moved to the desk, his every motion an implied threat even to empty room, he took the collar with a gentle grasp at odds with his entire existence. Slowly and without knowing why sealed the steel circlet about his neck, her words had meant nothing, the pomp of a young girl, but he had felt death pour from her. She would lead him into untold rivers of blood and the suffering of the enemies of the emperor, and he would revel in it.
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