Post by Bones on Nov 25, 2009 10:46:02 GMT -5
Faction: Mandalorian
Department: Special Ops - Blood Pack
Rank: Corporal
Name: Zarik Herx
Race: Human
Age: 22
Height: 6”2
Weight: 170lb
Appearance:
Zarik has a tall, powerfully built frame that in it’s own can be intimidating to most opponents. He carries himself with an aura that seems to tell anybody looking at him that he is a strong, proud man, and that he definitely knows how to handle himself in a fight.
Zarik generally wears his Mandalorian Battle Armour, a gift from his grandfather, who was the father figure in Zarik’s life, after his father was murdered during his time as a bounty hunter. His armour is painted red and black for this reason – red to honour his father, and black for his desire for justice on those that killed him.
Beneath the armour, Zarik is tanned, with black hair, cut short and generally in a messy look. He has brilliant blue eyes, described as being close in colour to a sapphire. His extreme muscles are shown through his clothes, generally wearing a pair of combat pants and a singlet. He has numerous scars, and his clan insignia tattooed into his left deltoid.
**I do not own, or claim to own, either of those pictures**
Birth place: Mandalore
Weapons:
-1x DETE 2K4 Flamethrower LINK
-2x Heavy Blaster pistols
-1x DETE 7C2 Slughtrower Carbine LINK
-1x Mandalorian Fighting Knife
-2x Thermal Detonator
-6x Incendiary Grenades
-2x Deployable incendiary mines
Skills:
-Demolitions
-Strategy
-Pyrotechnics
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 6
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: -2
Bio:[/b
The Beginning of a Warrior
To understand Zarik, we must first understand his parentage. In his clan, there is a saying, “A warrior isn’t made, he is born”, and if that were true, then Zarik’s future was assured. He was going to be a powerful warrior, especially if he was like his parents. Zarik was born to Kolu and Sellah Herx, both of whom were warriors in the Mandalorian Special Forces. Kolu’s father, Rhyen, a veteran from the last wars under Mandalore the Betrayer, was also head of the Herx clan. Naturally, Zarik was being born into a wealthy and powerful family, and in Mandalorian culture, power meant respect.
It was the middle of a storm when Zarik was finally born, the lightning crashing overhead, increasing the light in the temporary house dramatically. It was obvious from the start that he had his mother’s eyes, but for the rest, he looked like his father. As the first child, Zarik was treated like a prince. He was nurtured and cared for by his mother, but not in a way that would make him weak and reliant. They encouraged independence, trying to teach him to feed himself, walk and talk from an early age.
Years passed, and Zarik, who was now two and a half and used to his father leaving, watched his father leave again. Unfortunately, he was unaware that he was infact seeing his father for the last time.
Kolu had entered service as a bounty hunter, using his talents to great effect. Unfortunately, however, his last contract’s family had finally tracked him down, and he decided it was for the best interests of his family if he left the house. He left fully aware that he was likely going to die while he was gone.
Rhyen himself brought the body back to Zarik’s mother. Zarik looked on as the body was placed on the table. He moved forwards, shaking his father’s limp body, before turning to his mother and saying, “Mum. Why won’t he wake up?”
Kolu’s death created many severe issues with the family, for at three years old, it was tradition for the father to take the child and train them in the ways of combat. Sellah contacted all of Zarik’s uncles, hoping that one of them would take Zarik and train them as their own, but she knew it was no use. She knew that there was only one person who would be able to train Zarik to the same level as Kolu. That man was the person who had trained Kolu himself. Zarik’s grandfather, Rhyen. So on his third birthday, Rhyen took Zarik from his mother’s home into his, and began his training straight away. Although at first, while he wasn’t big enough for blasters, Zarik’s training began on fist-fighting and basic strategies. It was a slow process, but one that seemed to eventually take effect.
When Zarik turned six, his present from his grandfather was simple, his father’s two blaster pistols. Whilst his father had also owned a blaster carbine, that would wait until he was older. Naturally, now in possession of blasters, it was time for Zarik to learn how to shoot. His grandfather set up targets at the edges of the nearby forest, allowing Zarik to fire repeatedly. It was erratic, as was expected for his age, but with years, came experience, and by ten, Zarik was efficient enough with a blaster pistol that Rhyen decided it was time to give him his father’s carbine.
Once again, Zarik began with shooting stationary targets pinned to trees on the edges of the forest, but it was at twelve that Rhyen finally began taking Zarik into the forest, hunting game to perfect his ability to shoot a moving target. Once again, Zarik proved unaccurate, but with regular trips into the forest, his accuracy became increasingly better. However, for Zarik, things were about to change dramatically.
In Mandalorian culture, a child became an Adult when they turned thirteen, and as a final birthday gift from his grandfather, Zarik received his first set of battle armour, built to his size. It was also on this day that Rhyen told Zarik the story about his father, and how he had died. Zarik cried most of the way through the story, and only spoke once at the end, “Grandpa, I’m going to get revenge on them for killing him. I promise.” So he set about painting his armour. Red was for his father and the colour of his blood that they spilt. Black for the darkness they would forever see after he found them and took their lives for justice.
As part of becoming an adult, Zarik was required to undertake a coming of age trial, known as the Verd'goten. For his Verd'goten, his grandfather arranged for an adolescent Vornskr to be brought to Mandalore. He placed Zarik and the Vornskr in a large barn, leaving Zarik with only a vibroblade. It didn't take long for the Vornskr to sniff him out. It attacked violently, before darting away before Zarik could attack. This repeated, until eventually Zarik thought of a plan. After one attack, he feigned seriously injured, drawing the Vornskr back in. As it came closer, Zarik straightened, slashing outwards with the sword and cutting the animal's throat. His grandfather was overjoyed with the intelligence and ability that Zarik had shown in his Verd'goten.
The Hunt for Murderers
Zarik stayed with his family for three more years, effectively bringing his fighting skills up to a considerable level. Eventually, however, he decided it was time. He left his family, boarding a public transport ship to Coruscant, the planet he had been told his father’s killers lived on. Whilst on the ship, he stayed away from everybody else, and everybody stayed away from him. It was the presence of the armour, a sign that still brought fear to people from other planets.
Once on Coruscant, Zarik set to work immediately. He had been given his father’s datapads before leaving, and studied them on the ship. He had found all the information on the four that he believed he needed in order to find them. For three, he was right, for the fourth, sadly, he wasn’t.
The first man lived alone, staying generally to himself. He was the easiest target, the first target. Zarik bought himself a K-Bar knife for this murder in particular. It was straight, with a 45 degree angle point from front to back. He strapped it securely to his ankle, a convenient place to keep it in his eyes. He found the man’s apartment and broke in through the front door, sliding a piece of thin steel into the gap of the door and flicking the lock open. He waited inside, just in the door, holding his K-bar. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually the man came. No sooner had the man stepped in and closed the door, Zarik arched the blade downwards, driving it into the gap between the collar bone and shoulder blade. At the spurt of blood, he knew he’d hit the artery he was aiming for. He withdrew the knife and stepped away, watching as the man bled out.
The next man had a family, and whilst Zarik did harbour a sincere hatred for the man, he knew he couldn’t do the hit in his home. The man had an interest in fast speeders, and from his grandfather’s teachings, Zarik had an interest in explosives. He set about, gathering all he needed to make a bomb. He spent the next week building the bomb and observing the man, making sure everything was perfect. Eventually, the time came to strike. Half way on his way to work in his speeder, the bomb detonated under the driver’s seat, destroying the cabin and snapping the speeder in half. Zarik smiled. He was halfway there.
The third was a drinking man, and Zarik watched him for weeks, finding his favourite bars. Eventually, he followed the man into one. “I was wondering when you’d come for me.” The man told him as Zarik sat opposite him, his hand on his blaster, “I’m unarmed, and waiting, but hear me out first. What good does killing all of us do? Besides, you’re talented. We could use someone like you in our organisation. You’re like your father. Ruthless, efficient and without fear.” Zarik smirked beneath his helmet before saying, “I don’t work for murderers. I kill them.” The man looked back, and in one last effort questioned, “Then what do you believe you are? A healer?” Zarik laughed before saying, “No, more like a cleaner.” With that he fired his blaster, hitting the man in the head. He took his datapad this time, knowing he would know the location of the fourth man.
Zarik nearly screamed when he read it. The fourth man was on the run, and it was not likely that Zarik could track him down.
The Step-Family
Zarik returned home to Mandalore, and when he arrived, he was greeted with some unusual news. His mother had married a widower, and he now had siblings, even if they were step siblings, for the first time. Amongst his new extended family was a girl, about a year younger than he was, and the two got along perfectly. When he was nineteen, and she was eighteen, the two stood infront of their homes, watching visitors to the village. They were outsiders, and from his past, Zarik already mistrusted them. All seemed to be going fine, until one of them made a comment to his step-sister, Chayla. “Hey gorgeous, how about you come back to the ship, and I’ll teach you some stuff…” The man never got to finish his sentence, as Zarik, overcome by rage at an outsider making a pass at a Mandalorian woman, through a punch, colliding hard with the man’s jaw. The two fought, trading blows. Zarik had the distinct advantage of his armour, so he was unharmed, but his opponent’s face was becoming more and more bloodied. Eventually he knocked the man unconscious, and when his companions attempted to step in, they were greeted by the rest of the Herx clan. In the end, the visitors picked up their friend and left, leaving what they had come to collect.
He was twenty when a messenger came from the city, looking for all those able to join the military. Zarik, already knowing his own ability to fight and kill, enlisted, joining the Mandalorian Army. He knew, that eventually he’d be called for service and have to leave his home, but he knew while he was there, that he’d be fighting not for the Mandalore, but for those he cared about. His clan.
Almost as immediately as he started operating with his small unit, the complaints and concerns started reaching the officers. Zarik showed time and time again to be a sadist, often finding the slowest, most painful ways to kill his victims. Whilst he got the job done, he was also a worry as he seemed to blatantly disregard the safety of his unit, but even himself to a huge extent.
Naturally, the officers had Zarik called in for a psychiatric assessment. The results were startling, to say the least. The reports of Zarik being sadistic had turned out to be true. He seemed to love the thought of long, lasting pain, even going so far to laugh at unfortunate images and videos of such events. He was also under a slight touch of delusional psychosis, believing himself to be completely and utterly invincible, which was a reason for him breaking cover and completely exposing himself so many times in training and missions. The last thing, something the psychiatrist felt should never be mixed with his sadism, was a severe case of Pyromania. He loved fires. He loved burning things. Unfortunately, however, he showed signs that if he could, he would love to mix the two.
Eventually, Zarik was called upon to undergo specialist training, with his new field of service being Pyrotechnics. To start this training, he was handed a prototype tactical flamethrower and put through an intense Special Operations training camp. When he emerged on the other side, he was now a Spec-Ops Pyrotechnic specialist, and burning stuff was definitely a new found joy.
RP Sample:
Zarik had hunted him for nearly a year now, and the relief at finally catching up to him was almost as intense as the desire for his blood. It was like he was becoming a machine as he walked through the rain, hearing the water hitting the outside of his helmet. He smiled, gripping one of the blaster pistols. He didn’t want anything fancy with this one. No bombs, no stealth. He just wanted the man gone, rubbed out, dead.
He stopped in an alleyway out the back of the hotel. He checked again, the third time now, making sure that the blaster now in his hand was loaded. He felt the dead weight of it in his hand, before walking through the back door of the hotel. He walked past the maid’s trolley, taking her all-access card as he did so. Eventually, walking along the hallway, he found the room he was looking for, Room 13. He allowed himself to laugh lightly at the apparent unluckiness of the number.
He swiped the card, opening the door quietly, stepping into the dark, humid room. He found the man asleep on the bed, and so he made his way over. He aimed at the man before saying loudly, “LOOK AT ME!” When the man woke, and looked over, Zarik continued, quieter this time, “I just wanted to see the look on your face as you die.” With that, he pulled the trigger three times, hitting him in the chest with each bolt. He saw the life drain from the man’s face as quick as if someone had pulled a plug. He stepped over, checking his pulse, and then leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
**Ok, I know a lot of this development looks early, but if you look on the Wookieepedia site for the Mando’s, found here - starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mandalorian - you will find that it is accurate for the Mandalorians.**
Department: Special Ops - Blood Pack
Rank: Corporal
Name: Zarik Herx
Race: Human
Age: 22
Height: 6”2
Weight: 170lb
Appearance:
Zarik has a tall, powerfully built frame that in it’s own can be intimidating to most opponents. He carries himself with an aura that seems to tell anybody looking at him that he is a strong, proud man, and that he definitely knows how to handle himself in a fight.
Zarik generally wears his Mandalorian Battle Armour, a gift from his grandfather, who was the father figure in Zarik’s life, after his father was murdered during his time as a bounty hunter. His armour is painted red and black for this reason – red to honour his father, and black for his desire for justice on those that killed him.
Beneath the armour, Zarik is tanned, with black hair, cut short and generally in a messy look. He has brilliant blue eyes, described as being close in colour to a sapphire. His extreme muscles are shown through his clothes, generally wearing a pair of combat pants and a singlet. He has numerous scars, and his clan insignia tattooed into his left deltoid.
**I do not own, or claim to own, either of those pictures**
Birth place: Mandalore
Weapons:
-1x DETE 2K4 Flamethrower LINK
-2x Heavy Blaster pistols
-1x DETE 7C2 Slughtrower Carbine LINK
-1x Mandalorian Fighting Knife
-2x Thermal Detonator
-6x Incendiary Grenades
-2x Deployable incendiary mines
Skills:
-Demolitions
-Strategy
-Pyrotechnics
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 7
Intelligence: 6
Speed: 5
Leadership: 6
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 3
Ranged Weapons: 7
Alignment: -2
Bio:[/b
The Beginning of a Warrior
To understand Zarik, we must first understand his parentage. In his clan, there is a saying, “A warrior isn’t made, he is born”, and if that were true, then Zarik’s future was assured. He was going to be a powerful warrior, especially if he was like his parents. Zarik was born to Kolu and Sellah Herx, both of whom were warriors in the Mandalorian Special Forces. Kolu’s father, Rhyen, a veteran from the last wars under Mandalore the Betrayer, was also head of the Herx clan. Naturally, Zarik was being born into a wealthy and powerful family, and in Mandalorian culture, power meant respect.
It was the middle of a storm when Zarik was finally born, the lightning crashing overhead, increasing the light in the temporary house dramatically. It was obvious from the start that he had his mother’s eyes, but for the rest, he looked like his father. As the first child, Zarik was treated like a prince. He was nurtured and cared for by his mother, but not in a way that would make him weak and reliant. They encouraged independence, trying to teach him to feed himself, walk and talk from an early age.
Years passed, and Zarik, who was now two and a half and used to his father leaving, watched his father leave again. Unfortunately, he was unaware that he was infact seeing his father for the last time.
Kolu had entered service as a bounty hunter, using his talents to great effect. Unfortunately, however, his last contract’s family had finally tracked him down, and he decided it was for the best interests of his family if he left the house. He left fully aware that he was likely going to die while he was gone.
Rhyen himself brought the body back to Zarik’s mother. Zarik looked on as the body was placed on the table. He moved forwards, shaking his father’s limp body, before turning to his mother and saying, “Mum. Why won’t he wake up?”
Kolu’s death created many severe issues with the family, for at three years old, it was tradition for the father to take the child and train them in the ways of combat. Sellah contacted all of Zarik’s uncles, hoping that one of them would take Zarik and train them as their own, but she knew it was no use. She knew that there was only one person who would be able to train Zarik to the same level as Kolu. That man was the person who had trained Kolu himself. Zarik’s grandfather, Rhyen. So on his third birthday, Rhyen took Zarik from his mother’s home into his, and began his training straight away. Although at first, while he wasn’t big enough for blasters, Zarik’s training began on fist-fighting and basic strategies. It was a slow process, but one that seemed to eventually take effect.
When Zarik turned six, his present from his grandfather was simple, his father’s two blaster pistols. Whilst his father had also owned a blaster carbine, that would wait until he was older. Naturally, now in possession of blasters, it was time for Zarik to learn how to shoot. His grandfather set up targets at the edges of the nearby forest, allowing Zarik to fire repeatedly. It was erratic, as was expected for his age, but with years, came experience, and by ten, Zarik was efficient enough with a blaster pistol that Rhyen decided it was time to give him his father’s carbine.
Once again, Zarik began with shooting stationary targets pinned to trees on the edges of the forest, but it was at twelve that Rhyen finally began taking Zarik into the forest, hunting game to perfect his ability to shoot a moving target. Once again, Zarik proved unaccurate, but with regular trips into the forest, his accuracy became increasingly better. However, for Zarik, things were about to change dramatically.
In Mandalorian culture, a child became an Adult when they turned thirteen, and as a final birthday gift from his grandfather, Zarik received his first set of battle armour, built to his size. It was also on this day that Rhyen told Zarik the story about his father, and how he had died. Zarik cried most of the way through the story, and only spoke once at the end, “Grandpa, I’m going to get revenge on them for killing him. I promise.” So he set about painting his armour. Red was for his father and the colour of his blood that they spilt. Black for the darkness they would forever see after he found them and took their lives for justice.
As part of becoming an adult, Zarik was required to undertake a coming of age trial, known as the Verd'goten. For his Verd'goten, his grandfather arranged for an adolescent Vornskr to be brought to Mandalore. He placed Zarik and the Vornskr in a large barn, leaving Zarik with only a vibroblade. It didn't take long for the Vornskr to sniff him out. It attacked violently, before darting away before Zarik could attack. This repeated, until eventually Zarik thought of a plan. After one attack, he feigned seriously injured, drawing the Vornskr back in. As it came closer, Zarik straightened, slashing outwards with the sword and cutting the animal's throat. His grandfather was overjoyed with the intelligence and ability that Zarik had shown in his Verd'goten.
The Hunt for Murderers
Zarik stayed with his family for three more years, effectively bringing his fighting skills up to a considerable level. Eventually, however, he decided it was time. He left his family, boarding a public transport ship to Coruscant, the planet he had been told his father’s killers lived on. Whilst on the ship, he stayed away from everybody else, and everybody stayed away from him. It was the presence of the armour, a sign that still brought fear to people from other planets.
Once on Coruscant, Zarik set to work immediately. He had been given his father’s datapads before leaving, and studied them on the ship. He had found all the information on the four that he believed he needed in order to find them. For three, he was right, for the fourth, sadly, he wasn’t.
The first man lived alone, staying generally to himself. He was the easiest target, the first target. Zarik bought himself a K-Bar knife for this murder in particular. It was straight, with a 45 degree angle point from front to back. He strapped it securely to his ankle, a convenient place to keep it in his eyes. He found the man’s apartment and broke in through the front door, sliding a piece of thin steel into the gap of the door and flicking the lock open. He waited inside, just in the door, holding his K-bar. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually the man came. No sooner had the man stepped in and closed the door, Zarik arched the blade downwards, driving it into the gap between the collar bone and shoulder blade. At the spurt of blood, he knew he’d hit the artery he was aiming for. He withdrew the knife and stepped away, watching as the man bled out.
The next man had a family, and whilst Zarik did harbour a sincere hatred for the man, he knew he couldn’t do the hit in his home. The man had an interest in fast speeders, and from his grandfather’s teachings, Zarik had an interest in explosives. He set about, gathering all he needed to make a bomb. He spent the next week building the bomb and observing the man, making sure everything was perfect. Eventually, the time came to strike. Half way on his way to work in his speeder, the bomb detonated under the driver’s seat, destroying the cabin and snapping the speeder in half. Zarik smiled. He was halfway there.
The third was a drinking man, and Zarik watched him for weeks, finding his favourite bars. Eventually, he followed the man into one. “I was wondering when you’d come for me.” The man told him as Zarik sat opposite him, his hand on his blaster, “I’m unarmed, and waiting, but hear me out first. What good does killing all of us do? Besides, you’re talented. We could use someone like you in our organisation. You’re like your father. Ruthless, efficient and without fear.” Zarik smirked beneath his helmet before saying, “I don’t work for murderers. I kill them.” The man looked back, and in one last effort questioned, “Then what do you believe you are? A healer?” Zarik laughed before saying, “No, more like a cleaner.” With that he fired his blaster, hitting the man in the head. He took his datapad this time, knowing he would know the location of the fourth man.
Zarik nearly screamed when he read it. The fourth man was on the run, and it was not likely that Zarik could track him down.
The Step-Family
Zarik returned home to Mandalore, and when he arrived, he was greeted with some unusual news. His mother had married a widower, and he now had siblings, even if they were step siblings, for the first time. Amongst his new extended family was a girl, about a year younger than he was, and the two got along perfectly. When he was nineteen, and she was eighteen, the two stood infront of their homes, watching visitors to the village. They were outsiders, and from his past, Zarik already mistrusted them. All seemed to be going fine, until one of them made a comment to his step-sister, Chayla. “Hey gorgeous, how about you come back to the ship, and I’ll teach you some stuff…” The man never got to finish his sentence, as Zarik, overcome by rage at an outsider making a pass at a Mandalorian woman, through a punch, colliding hard with the man’s jaw. The two fought, trading blows. Zarik had the distinct advantage of his armour, so he was unharmed, but his opponent’s face was becoming more and more bloodied. Eventually he knocked the man unconscious, and when his companions attempted to step in, they were greeted by the rest of the Herx clan. In the end, the visitors picked up their friend and left, leaving what they had come to collect.
He was twenty when a messenger came from the city, looking for all those able to join the military. Zarik, already knowing his own ability to fight and kill, enlisted, joining the Mandalorian Army. He knew, that eventually he’d be called for service and have to leave his home, but he knew while he was there, that he’d be fighting not for the Mandalore, but for those he cared about. His clan.
Almost as immediately as he started operating with his small unit, the complaints and concerns started reaching the officers. Zarik showed time and time again to be a sadist, often finding the slowest, most painful ways to kill his victims. Whilst he got the job done, he was also a worry as he seemed to blatantly disregard the safety of his unit, but even himself to a huge extent.
Naturally, the officers had Zarik called in for a psychiatric assessment. The results were startling, to say the least. The reports of Zarik being sadistic had turned out to be true. He seemed to love the thought of long, lasting pain, even going so far to laugh at unfortunate images and videos of such events. He was also under a slight touch of delusional psychosis, believing himself to be completely and utterly invincible, which was a reason for him breaking cover and completely exposing himself so many times in training and missions. The last thing, something the psychiatrist felt should never be mixed with his sadism, was a severe case of Pyromania. He loved fires. He loved burning things. Unfortunately, however, he showed signs that if he could, he would love to mix the two.
Eventually, Zarik was called upon to undergo specialist training, with his new field of service being Pyrotechnics. To start this training, he was handed a prototype tactical flamethrower and put through an intense Special Operations training camp. When he emerged on the other side, he was now a Spec-Ops Pyrotechnic specialist, and burning stuff was definitely a new found joy.
RP Sample:
Zarik had hunted him for nearly a year now, and the relief at finally catching up to him was almost as intense as the desire for his blood. It was like he was becoming a machine as he walked through the rain, hearing the water hitting the outside of his helmet. He smiled, gripping one of the blaster pistols. He didn’t want anything fancy with this one. No bombs, no stealth. He just wanted the man gone, rubbed out, dead.
He stopped in an alleyway out the back of the hotel. He checked again, the third time now, making sure that the blaster now in his hand was loaded. He felt the dead weight of it in his hand, before walking through the back door of the hotel. He walked past the maid’s trolley, taking her all-access card as he did so. Eventually, walking along the hallway, he found the room he was looking for, Room 13. He allowed himself to laugh lightly at the apparent unluckiness of the number.
He swiped the card, opening the door quietly, stepping into the dark, humid room. He found the man asleep on the bed, and so he made his way over. He aimed at the man before saying loudly, “LOOK AT ME!” When the man woke, and looked over, Zarik continued, quieter this time, “I just wanted to see the look on your face as you die.” With that, he pulled the trigger three times, hitting him in the chest with each bolt. He saw the life drain from the man’s face as quick as if someone had pulled a plug. He stepped over, checking his pulse, and then leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
**Ok, I know a lot of this development looks early, but if you look on the Wookieepedia site for the Mando’s, found here - starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Mandalorian - you will find that it is accurate for the Mandalorians.**
