Here, fully randomised except for the name, appearance and divination, which I changed from +3 int to +3 int and +3 corrupt to tie the stats and the background together
Name: Ash Gartopius
Homeworld: Void Born
Gender: Male
Career: Assassin
Age: 33
Rank: Sell-steel
Build: Gaunt Skin Color:Milky
Hair Color:Black Eye Color:Green
Quirk: You have unusually elegant hands.
Ship Tradition: Space Hulk
Divination: Truth is subjective.
WS: 30 BS: 40
S: 27 T: 29
Ag: 37 Int: 36
Per: 30 WP: 40
Fellowship: 29
Wounds: 9
Fate Points: 2
Insanity Pts: 0
Corruption Pts: 3
XP: 400
Thrones: 137
Traits: Charmed, Ill-Omened, Shipwise, Void Accustomed
Basic Skills: Navigation (Stellar)(Int)(Shipwise), Pilot (Starcraft)(Ag)(Shipwise), Awareness (Per), Dodge (Ag), Silent move (Ag),
Advanced Skills: Speak Language (Ship Dialect)(Int), Speak Language (Low Gothic)(Int), Litteracy(Int),
Talents: Melee Weapons Training (Primitive), Basic Weapons Training (SP), Pistol Training (SP), Unremarkable, Thrown Weapons Training
Gear: sword, knife, 3 doses of stimm, charge (corpse hair), black bodyglove (Common Quality Clothing), hunting rifle and 16 rounds, 10 throwing knives, mirror (memento)
Background:
Ash's survival is unequivocally due to probability more than skill, talent, luck or divine intervention. Born on what could barely still be called a space station he spent his childhood roaming the dark, rutty, uncertain metal corridors in search of recyclable bio-material, useful gear and parts to help keep the surviving community of human beings alive. Gone haywire probably due to a demonic manifestation 60 years previously, boarded by a small orc party 40 years after that, the several thousand kilometers wide station was a labyrinthic stage where an implicit game of brutal hide and seek was played between it's inhabitants. The first priority was to stay hidden from anything that wasn't human. The second was to feed and breathe. Firing a gun outside of the makeshift sound-proof barriers set up at the temporary camps was inviting any orc within earshot and whatever was lurking in the shadows to come at you. Firing a silenced gun meant you had encountered something: you were dead anyway. Ash still has the small mirror he would use to check around corners and behind his shoulder when outside the camp.
The death rate was high and the population inexorably dwindling. Ironically, it is the presence of the tyranids that gave Ash an oportunity to leave that hell. During his late teens the station was boarded by a platoon of space marines premptively destroying potential geneastlers infections. It didn't make much difference for the human community; large shooting robots was not a particularly difficult thing to avoid compared to silent shadows. However, in their zeal to eradicate all heretic presence they began to systematically hunt down and destroy the few scattered camps. The attack on Ash's camp was the moment the orcs chose to launch a major waaaaagh on the platoon, and their absence of subtelty soon drew the attention of most of demons in the station into the fray. Per standard procedure, the inhabitants of the camp scattered. Ash and two of his friends Leman and Selverina found their way into the airlock of an adeptus ship.
Passing themselves as haulers, they remained unremarked for several months until an unfortunate altercation between an arbiter and Leman blew their cover. Leaving him to his fate, Ash and Selverina left the ship at he next space station. Their roaming led them to a sect of the holy order of the emperor acting a a front for recruitment center. Ash was noticed and offered to train as an assassin. Sent to his training withought any chance to contact Selverina, he lost track of her and was unable to locate her even after his training. Assigned to unit Gartopius, Ash was sent on several missions which were successful to various degrees. The last one he did for the sect went terribly wrong, and only two of the original five survived, him and Terune, a close combat specialist with whom he had a loose relationship.
Now on his way to meet the unknown Inquisitor Antiohe, he is pondering his next move, hopefully the last, to escape the watchfull eye of his employer and find freedom and independance. The indoctrination of the holy order might be very strong, but he has seen enough shadows lurking in the darkness of his birthplace and heard enough voices in his head whispering verifiable truths to know that blind faith and submission will not grant him either power nor security in this universe: He only knew how to avoid the bigger fishes; now he knows he can also eat them from the inside, or grow big enough to swallow them whole.
XP bought:
Silent skill 100
+1 BS 100
Litteracy 200
I hope there is still room left for me; I tried to make the background sort of consistent with the randomly generated stats. It might be a little "over the top", but I don't think it's implausible, just improbable; and there's a limit to my imagination (yea, the "escaping through the airlock" part is a little fishy but I couldn't find anything).
Funfact:
I wanted him to be an assassin, either stealth or sniper (or both) but when I rolled his stats I was like "40 WP!!!! Ok, psyker time" but then I saw he was space hulk background and the awesome story came to my mind so I went "meh, screw the stats".
I'm available 100% of the time at 12:00 GMT on sundays. At 11:00 GMT I will sometimes be absent until 11:45 GMT.
Author
Topic: Dark Heresy: Something Different (The Mission Begins Sunday at 10PM GMT) (Read 18532 times)