Post by Krowbar on Nov 13, 2013 20:50:03 GMT -5
Name: Kovac "Blitz" Reyal
Age: 32
Race: Nihran
Birth place: Astrum 5/Raised - Ordo
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 215 lbs
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Black
Appearance: Somewhat longer, athletic build with proportionate limbs. Characteristics such as eye/hair colour and complexion remain true to the Nihran, his skin a rather sullen white with a almost checkered pattern, although it's color itself may drift to a mild red or darker grey at times. His hair is kept short and thin, although mostly by his helmet. He is nearly always seen in full armor, which has been painted over a dark blood red, and a secondary rather brigh white. It seems to have little ware, aside from minor buffing and scratch. Some aspects of it seem to have been incorporated directly from previous crusader-style armor, including overlapped plating, angled spikes, more of display than practicality, aswell as even re shaping the plate in some areas,
Personality: A strict Introvert, he mainly keeps to himself unless provoked. To call one a friend, to him would be a hard-earned title. While he does suffer from greed, he manages to suppress it enough not to overrun a deal. He's rather self-centered, although to those that are close to him, which are few, it is quite the opposite. Also quick to anger or action upon anything one may imply of him. Should he be forced to work with an adversary, he may find it in him to work through it for the sake of payment.
Profession: Bounty Hunter/Mercenary
Previous Faction/Rank: Mandalore - Alor'uus
Equipment: Armor - Mandalorian battle armor Weapons - BL-230 SPR/KR-34c Blaster Carbine(Normally swaps out for the previous, or vice versa.)/OMG-72 Blaster Pistol/ 16" Karambit styled blade./ Aswell as a DX-23 Jetpack
Starship: Avenger-Class Heavy Patrol Craft (Named Typhoon)
Skills: Piloting, Engineering, Some combat experience.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 6
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 6
Ranged Weapons: 5
Bio:
Age 1-7
Kovac Reyal spent merely six months of his life on his home planet of Astrum V, although he would never learn to call it that. As his father was struggling to support them, he began taking "meager shortcuts" as he would soon refer to them as. Increasingly, they were looked down upon among their past friends and neighbors as word spread of the accused thievery. In the coming week they decided it best to gather their belongings and start over. They were somehow unstaved by the loss of their homeland, watching it fade into the distance as they set for Ordo. Kovac would learn it to be his birthplace and livelihood as he explored the environment, never enlightened by his elders. He would spend hours a day simply watching the ships come and go, marveling at the mechanics of such. His parents, still sentimental to their own culture, worried and hoped their son had not fell pray to that of Mandalore. To himself, he saw it as his birth and heritage, with no other option in sight. To their dismay, that was the least of their concerns.
Age8-14
As his eighth year approached, Verd'goten would soon be approaching. His mere trouble, was in his sheltered lifestyle, had he seen even rarely a blaster, nor was his father learned in the practice. Thus a family friend with no children of his own agreed to mentor Kovac for the trial. The first time he fired a blaster, it went flying from his hand as he fell down in shock. It took moments before he picked it up, laughingly firing three more times. He was sure he had found his calling. A harmless mention of feeling like a Mandalorian warrior left his father a forlorn, worried expression which would forever puzzle him. As the training progressed, he learned war was not all fair and fun. After five years, the Verd'goten itself had come. He was rather excited, much like the previous years which he somewhat enjoyed at times. He was lead into a large, dark auditorium, feeling thick sand underneath his feet. As the lights flickered on, his eyes widened as he saw a large, tenacious strill on the opposite of the room, untamed and possibly unable to be. He was slightly relieved to see that it was on a sturdy chain. Looking around the room he saw a blaster, broken into pieces aswell as several tools and a long staff that had undoubtedly been part of the long fencing in the room. He looked back to the beast just in time to see the chain released, jumping down to the blaster instinctively. He had nearly a minute before the weighted beast reached him, as he scrambled to rebuild his weapon. Over again he dropped the pins deep into the sand from his shaking, as it drew closer he grabbed the long stick from the end of the room, tying the karambit he always carried firmly to the end. Rearing back he sent the spear flying as it stuck into the strill just below the neck. He rushed towards it, breaking off the stick as he dragged the knife back across its head to finish it off. It was a miracle that it had happened, but yet it did. If the beast had not been fitted with weights around its feet, then surely it would not have. It took merely an hour for him to learn the test was not over. He reassembled the blaster, and survived off the meat for three days. Afterwards he was blindfolded, and taken out into the deep wilderness with no sense of direction, and the same blaster. Only a week later, they returned to the same location to find him not only surviving but thriving off the local flora and fauna. For the next year his experience only encouraged him to continue training vigorously. He felt he was beginning to make a career choice.
Age 15-27
He had finally decided to, or rather was able to begin studying aircraft physics and mechanics. Since his early childhood he found them intriguing, vowing one day he would be a part of them. He scavenged what books and knowledge he could, studying them like a dog in his own reflection. Later down the road he managed to find a service technician willing to take him as an apprentice. After several years of strict study and practice, he was employed by a local mechanic. Nothing major, but it was definitely a step up. When he wasn't working he was sticking knives in the adjacent wall, or at the range. He began to excel at his work, not because of natural skill but for the immense time he devoted to it. After what felt like an eternity, he finally decided to enlist. Military craft, he soon found was a much larger spectrum. Nearly restarting his learning curb, he was surprised by the technology they employed. Nonetheless, he continued learning of their ships along with the weapons that went with them. His days often consisted of the immense heat from working inside the heavy hulls he often repaired or rarely even riding out in test flights, each of which felt as if a miniature vacation. The simple fact that most his time was spent living and working in one place on base earned him several friends in the region, also upping his reputation for his trade. One of the most memorable moments, he describes as when he first saw a jetpack, and was instructed with one. The unfamiliar weight of it alone was strange, not to mention the feel of the thrusters. Leaning forward to distribute his balance more equally, he mistakenly fired them both, sending him head first into the adjacent wall, pinned like a fly until he found the cutoff. Despite the experience, he enjoyed the principle, later buying one of his own. His time in the Navy was trying, eventually making his way to the rank of Alor'uus. Quickly befriended pilots began to take him along as part of their crew, which he rather enjoyed for a break of the monotony. It was on one of these trips he first felt the thrill of combat. The small cruiser was gliding along at a seemingly low altitude as part of the daily patrol. After running this same route for weeks, no one expected the barrage of fire that nearly took off their left wing. The entire craft drifted left as it skipped over the surface like a rock before coming to a skid upright, the crew both shaken and stirred like a margarita. Their assailants closed in on the ship, unsure of its status. Kovac managed to gain his composure, drawing and chambering his blaster as he peered around the edge of the beaten door. He gathered two others who were rather unscaved from the crash, scattering out across the debris while their foe closed in. One of the approaching men, scavenging through piles of the scrap found only his blaster missing from his grip and a karambit embedded into his throat as Kovac gunned down three others, using his corpse as a shield while he retreated back into the fuselage of the craft, now with a rifle. One of the crew popped up from the top hatch, letting out a burst of fire before ducking back under cover. The three men played a sort of reverse whack a mole, quickly driving back the opposing force across the hill until support arrived. Along with the new jetpack, he earned the nickname "Blitz" among his comrades for the fact he never stopped moving. The little action that he saw was eye opening to the reality of combat.
Age 28-32
After the years that he had served, greed began to seep into his heart. Kovac took a decent sum of money he had gathered, purchasing his own ship, naming it the Typhoon. He took up his arms and armor, aswell as the jetpack he had previously acquired. While he was still loyal to Mandalore, he simply saw a more lavish lifestyle beyond what he was. He looked out, seeing stories of wealthy, glorified bounty hunters and mercenaries across the galaxy. He didn't see any reason why it was not there for his taking aswell. He had his own custom blade smithed, much like the small Karambit he carried since childhood. Only much larger, and of course, smithed from beskar. As he climbed into his ship, looking back at his homeland, he knew he would be back. Only in his mind, in a much better state. It didn't take long until he was enlisted along side another small group of mercenaries to escort a cargo ship. He was surprised by the simplicity of the job, scoffing at the fact he was being paid to do it. It was most likely this mentality that caused his shock when a blaster bolt which should have struck him in the head, zipped past hitting another man on board. He scrambled for cover as he pulled up his weapon, too surprised to realize what had happened. He swung around the side of the column, ripping off several shots at the boarding raiders as they jumped the rail. They were quickly gunned down as the rest of the men came from below deck, the remaining raiders retreating to their ship in a matter of minutes. The short conflict, though with little result would stick in his head as a reminder.
RP Sample:
Kovac stepped down from the ship minutes after it touched down, his boots clacking against the foreign ground as he made his way off the docking platform.
"So where 'we headin'?"
he called out blindly to the well-dressed noble following close at his heels.
"Cut a left. The small tower with the green lights on the right."
was the fast reply. After several minutes pushing their way through the thick crowds Kovac entered briskly into the unmarked building, the noble lagging behind in the doorway. A man stood in the opposite corner of the room with a rather stunned look before he spoke.
"Can I help you?"
He called out in a suspiciously loud voice as shuffling and footsteps could be minutely heard upstairs. The noble stepped forward into the room as he drew a stack of documents from his coat, beginning to speak.
"My name is Roi Drevnok, and I am here to collect for-
"Please, Mister Drevnok, come in and have a seat that I may not be an improper host before you continue."
The man cutoff in a continuously loud voice as his hand slipped behind his back. Kovac moved into the adjacent corner as the two sat down at the long table in the middle of the room. Two more distinct, audible clicks came out from the ceiling. Kovac instantly grabbed the noble from his chair, throwing him to the floor just in time to see a flurry of bolts shatter through the ceiling and straight down through the table. He shouldered his blaster, the man across the room pulling a small pistol of his own as Kovac managed to put two bolts in him first. He adjusted his aim, spraying the ceiling with the rest of the mag as the man crumpled to the ground. Through false hopes, the man made his way down the stairwell in the corner as he reloaded. Throwing the carbine over his shoulder Kovac drew his sidearm, the second man's head snapping back the moment he popped around the corner. Two more that followed suit were easily gunned down in the bottleneck. He dumped his mag beginning to reload, just in time to see a fourth come through the doorway. He dived around the corner as the blaster bolt clipped the side of his helmet. As the man drew the corner, Kovac managed to grab the front of his blaster, throwing it away as the two struggled against the wall. Kovac was thrown back, instantly drawing his karambit from his side as the man dove for his blaster. He leaned forward, firing his jetpack as the man was quickly gored by the blade as it cut through him like butter. Clambering to his feet, he sheathed the blade, reloading his carbine as he roughly grabbed the noble up to his feet.
"Damn, you really are worthless.."
"There's a reason I'm paying you," he replied a bit shakenly.
Kovac slowly ascended the stairs clearing each room before quickly ransacking the building. He tossed a bundle of the money to the noble as he walked out the rear exit, spinning his karambit on his palm.
(Thanks for taking the time to read through this, it's my first app, and I'm a lot better writer than app-maker.... Not saying I'm good at either but you get the picture. I was unsure if my stats were too high, so I figured if all of them were average (5) they would add up to forty, thus I just distributed them out a little and came up with 36 ... Again not sure on the right method there, but I'm open to learn.)
Age: 32
Race: Nihran
Birth place: Astrum 5/Raised - Ordo
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 215 lbs
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Black
Appearance: Somewhat longer, athletic build with proportionate limbs. Characteristics such as eye/hair colour and complexion remain true to the Nihran, his skin a rather sullen white with a almost checkered pattern, although it's color itself may drift to a mild red or darker grey at times. His hair is kept short and thin, although mostly by his helmet. He is nearly always seen in full armor, which has been painted over a dark blood red, and a secondary rather brigh white. It seems to have little ware, aside from minor buffing and scratch. Some aspects of it seem to have been incorporated directly from previous crusader-style armor, including overlapped plating, angled spikes, more of display than practicality, aswell as even re shaping the plate in some areas,
Personality: A strict Introvert, he mainly keeps to himself unless provoked. To call one a friend, to him would be a hard-earned title. While he does suffer from greed, he manages to suppress it enough not to overrun a deal. He's rather self-centered, although to those that are close to him, which are few, it is quite the opposite. Also quick to anger or action upon anything one may imply of him. Should he be forced to work with an adversary, he may find it in him to work through it for the sake of payment.
Profession: Bounty Hunter/Mercenary
Previous Faction/Rank: Mandalore - Alor'uus
Equipment: Armor - Mandalorian battle armor Weapons - BL-230 SPR/KR-34c Blaster Carbine(Normally swaps out for the previous, or vice versa.)/OMG-72 Blaster Pistol/ 16" Karambit styled blade./ Aswell as a DX-23 Jetpack
Starship: Avenger-Class Heavy Patrol Craft (Named Typhoon)
Skills: Piloting, Engineering, Some combat experience.
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 5
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 6
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 3
Melee Weapons: 6
Ranged Weapons: 5
Bio:
Age 1-7
Kovac Reyal spent merely six months of his life on his home planet of Astrum V, although he would never learn to call it that. As his father was struggling to support them, he began taking "meager shortcuts" as he would soon refer to them as. Increasingly, they were looked down upon among their past friends and neighbors as word spread of the accused thievery. In the coming week they decided it best to gather their belongings and start over. They were somehow unstaved by the loss of their homeland, watching it fade into the distance as they set for Ordo. Kovac would learn it to be his birthplace and livelihood as he explored the environment, never enlightened by his elders. He would spend hours a day simply watching the ships come and go, marveling at the mechanics of such. His parents, still sentimental to their own culture, worried and hoped their son had not fell pray to that of Mandalore. To himself, he saw it as his birth and heritage, with no other option in sight. To their dismay, that was the least of their concerns.
Age8-14
As his eighth year approached, Verd'goten would soon be approaching. His mere trouble, was in his sheltered lifestyle, had he seen even rarely a blaster, nor was his father learned in the practice. Thus a family friend with no children of his own agreed to mentor Kovac for the trial. The first time he fired a blaster, it went flying from his hand as he fell down in shock. It took moments before he picked it up, laughingly firing three more times. He was sure he had found his calling. A harmless mention of feeling like a Mandalorian warrior left his father a forlorn, worried expression which would forever puzzle him. As the training progressed, he learned war was not all fair and fun. After five years, the Verd'goten itself had come. He was rather excited, much like the previous years which he somewhat enjoyed at times. He was lead into a large, dark auditorium, feeling thick sand underneath his feet. As the lights flickered on, his eyes widened as he saw a large, tenacious strill on the opposite of the room, untamed and possibly unable to be. He was slightly relieved to see that it was on a sturdy chain. Looking around the room he saw a blaster, broken into pieces aswell as several tools and a long staff that had undoubtedly been part of the long fencing in the room. He looked back to the beast just in time to see the chain released, jumping down to the blaster instinctively. He had nearly a minute before the weighted beast reached him, as he scrambled to rebuild his weapon. Over again he dropped the pins deep into the sand from his shaking, as it drew closer he grabbed the long stick from the end of the room, tying the karambit he always carried firmly to the end. Rearing back he sent the spear flying as it stuck into the strill just below the neck. He rushed towards it, breaking off the stick as he dragged the knife back across its head to finish it off. It was a miracle that it had happened, but yet it did. If the beast had not been fitted with weights around its feet, then surely it would not have. It took merely an hour for him to learn the test was not over. He reassembled the blaster, and survived off the meat for three days. Afterwards he was blindfolded, and taken out into the deep wilderness with no sense of direction, and the same blaster. Only a week later, they returned to the same location to find him not only surviving but thriving off the local flora and fauna. For the next year his experience only encouraged him to continue training vigorously. He felt he was beginning to make a career choice.
Age 15-27
He had finally decided to, or rather was able to begin studying aircraft physics and mechanics. Since his early childhood he found them intriguing, vowing one day he would be a part of them. He scavenged what books and knowledge he could, studying them like a dog in his own reflection. Later down the road he managed to find a service technician willing to take him as an apprentice. After several years of strict study and practice, he was employed by a local mechanic. Nothing major, but it was definitely a step up. When he wasn't working he was sticking knives in the adjacent wall, or at the range. He began to excel at his work, not because of natural skill but for the immense time he devoted to it. After what felt like an eternity, he finally decided to enlist. Military craft, he soon found was a much larger spectrum. Nearly restarting his learning curb, he was surprised by the technology they employed. Nonetheless, he continued learning of their ships along with the weapons that went with them. His days often consisted of the immense heat from working inside the heavy hulls he often repaired or rarely even riding out in test flights, each of which felt as if a miniature vacation. The simple fact that most his time was spent living and working in one place on base earned him several friends in the region, also upping his reputation for his trade. One of the most memorable moments, he describes as when he first saw a jetpack, and was instructed with one. The unfamiliar weight of it alone was strange, not to mention the feel of the thrusters. Leaning forward to distribute his balance more equally, he mistakenly fired them both, sending him head first into the adjacent wall, pinned like a fly until he found the cutoff. Despite the experience, he enjoyed the principle, later buying one of his own. His time in the Navy was trying, eventually making his way to the rank of Alor'uus. Quickly befriended pilots began to take him along as part of their crew, which he rather enjoyed for a break of the monotony. It was on one of these trips he first felt the thrill of combat. The small cruiser was gliding along at a seemingly low altitude as part of the daily patrol. After running this same route for weeks, no one expected the barrage of fire that nearly took off their left wing. The entire craft drifted left as it skipped over the surface like a rock before coming to a skid upright, the crew both shaken and stirred like a margarita. Their assailants closed in on the ship, unsure of its status. Kovac managed to gain his composure, drawing and chambering his blaster as he peered around the edge of the beaten door. He gathered two others who were rather unscaved from the crash, scattering out across the debris while their foe closed in. One of the approaching men, scavenging through piles of the scrap found only his blaster missing from his grip and a karambit embedded into his throat as Kovac gunned down three others, using his corpse as a shield while he retreated back into the fuselage of the craft, now with a rifle. One of the crew popped up from the top hatch, letting out a burst of fire before ducking back under cover. The three men played a sort of reverse whack a mole, quickly driving back the opposing force across the hill until support arrived. Along with the new jetpack, he earned the nickname "Blitz" among his comrades for the fact he never stopped moving. The little action that he saw was eye opening to the reality of combat.
Age 28-32
After the years that he had served, greed began to seep into his heart. Kovac took a decent sum of money he had gathered, purchasing his own ship, naming it the Typhoon. He took up his arms and armor, aswell as the jetpack he had previously acquired. While he was still loyal to Mandalore, he simply saw a more lavish lifestyle beyond what he was. He looked out, seeing stories of wealthy, glorified bounty hunters and mercenaries across the galaxy. He didn't see any reason why it was not there for his taking aswell. He had his own custom blade smithed, much like the small Karambit he carried since childhood. Only much larger, and of course, smithed from beskar. As he climbed into his ship, looking back at his homeland, he knew he would be back. Only in his mind, in a much better state. It didn't take long until he was enlisted along side another small group of mercenaries to escort a cargo ship. He was surprised by the simplicity of the job, scoffing at the fact he was being paid to do it. It was most likely this mentality that caused his shock when a blaster bolt which should have struck him in the head, zipped past hitting another man on board. He scrambled for cover as he pulled up his weapon, too surprised to realize what had happened. He swung around the side of the column, ripping off several shots at the boarding raiders as they jumped the rail. They were quickly gunned down as the rest of the men came from below deck, the remaining raiders retreating to their ship in a matter of minutes. The short conflict, though with little result would stick in his head as a reminder.
RP Sample:
Kovac stepped down from the ship minutes after it touched down, his boots clacking against the foreign ground as he made his way off the docking platform.
"So where 'we headin'?"
he called out blindly to the well-dressed noble following close at his heels.
"Cut a left. The small tower with the green lights on the right."
was the fast reply. After several minutes pushing their way through the thick crowds Kovac entered briskly into the unmarked building, the noble lagging behind in the doorway. A man stood in the opposite corner of the room with a rather stunned look before he spoke.
"Can I help you?"
He called out in a suspiciously loud voice as shuffling and footsteps could be minutely heard upstairs. The noble stepped forward into the room as he drew a stack of documents from his coat, beginning to speak.
"My name is Roi Drevnok, and I am here to collect for-
"Please, Mister Drevnok, come in and have a seat that I may not be an improper host before you continue."
The man cutoff in a continuously loud voice as his hand slipped behind his back. Kovac moved into the adjacent corner as the two sat down at the long table in the middle of the room. Two more distinct, audible clicks came out from the ceiling. Kovac instantly grabbed the noble from his chair, throwing him to the floor just in time to see a flurry of bolts shatter through the ceiling and straight down through the table. He shouldered his blaster, the man across the room pulling a small pistol of his own as Kovac managed to put two bolts in him first. He adjusted his aim, spraying the ceiling with the rest of the mag as the man crumpled to the ground. Through false hopes, the man made his way down the stairwell in the corner as he reloaded. Throwing the carbine over his shoulder Kovac drew his sidearm, the second man's head snapping back the moment he popped around the corner. Two more that followed suit were easily gunned down in the bottleneck. He dumped his mag beginning to reload, just in time to see a fourth come through the doorway. He dived around the corner as the blaster bolt clipped the side of his helmet. As the man drew the corner, Kovac managed to grab the front of his blaster, throwing it away as the two struggled against the wall. Kovac was thrown back, instantly drawing his karambit from his side as the man dove for his blaster. He leaned forward, firing his jetpack as the man was quickly gored by the blade as it cut through him like butter. Clambering to his feet, he sheathed the blade, reloading his carbine as he roughly grabbed the noble up to his feet.
"Damn, you really are worthless.."
"There's a reason I'm paying you," he replied a bit shakenly.
Kovac slowly ascended the stairs clearing each room before quickly ransacking the building. He tossed a bundle of the money to the noble as he walked out the rear exit, spinning his karambit on his palm.
(Thanks for taking the time to read through this, it's my first app, and I'm a lot better writer than app-maker.... Not saying I'm good at either but you get the picture. I was unsure if my stats were too high, so I figured if all of them were average (5) they would add up to forty, thus I just distributed them out a little and came up with 36 ... Again not sure on the right method there, but I'm open to learn.)
