Macman253

Currently I am giving Ronin a break to go hunt Legion. So for awhile ill be Rping as Jace Winter. Here is his character sheet. Feel free to call bulls***, i'm not an over oppressive GM. Ive tried keeping it fair but let me know what you all think needs to be changed. Name: Jace Winter Race: Human Description:http://newvegas.nexusmods.com/mods/images/43437-2-1313298409.png Occupation: Ex Master Chief Of The NCR Elite Rangers / Mercenary Weapons: Plasma Defender and Plasma Rifle. Armor : Ranger Elite Power Armor. This armor was designed by The Enclave as a solution to the bulky Mark II armor they currently wore. By using advanced exo-skeleton technology and adaptive armor plating they created Mark X armor. Only a prototype was ever made, The NCR gained control of it and reversed engineered their own set of power armor. Not as superior as Mark X but it still has the benefits and drawbacks of its parent armor. Increased dexterity and movement speed for lack of armor plating and a vulnerability to armor-piercing rounds and Plasma weaponry. Backstory: Jace Winters is an Ex-Enclave Special Forces soldier that defected to the NCR. He witnessed the Enclave's genocidal mission in the Capital Wasteland, after stealing the Mark X Power Armor and a Vertibird he flew to California where he landed. The NCR struck a deal with him, he would train and lead the Elite Rangers under command of Chief Hanlon. He trained the team well and their first deployment was Helios One, the mission was successful. After several skirmishes the small force of twenty soldiers became the NCR's greatest Black Ops Asset. They were deployed in full at Boulder City, there Chief Hanlon and General Oliver detonated the city and The Elite Rangers fought bravely and died honorably. After the battle the men and women of The Elite Rangers were declared dead and never given full burial rights and honors, the memorial of the rangers and troopers that died at boulder city was erected without their names and in this instance Jace Winters lost his way to become a freelance mercenary, currently in the employ of Raven Company.

The world has ended, twenty years ago. A virus struck the planet turning all that died into zombies and those already dead. Society was destroyed in the in fighting of survivors aswell as the dead. Most of the major cities are merely giant dead-filled cities. Commuters are folks that live in small cities that dot the Dead Wastes. usually xenophobic but some are known for being open trade routes. Radiation is a big killer but only limited areas have lethal doses of radiation. The worlds superpowers decided to respond to the zombie threat when their soldiers were dying and then coming back to eat their brothers in arms. They nuked London, Moscow,Paris,New York, Washington DC and Los Angeles. The remaining major cities besides Denver, Dallas, Chicago and Seattle are confirmed to be in survivor occupation. The remaining capitals are assumed to be under zombie control. New Orleans is now called The Dead-City. Scavengers often raid this city but because half the city is flooded and the other half is covered in the dead. Pittsburgh also known as The Pitt. Its owned by a raider chief named The Lord. His raider tribe is full of psychos and rape-gangs. the city is a den of vice and misery but anyone that is tough enough can make a good living there. Seattle. This city is watched over by The Council. Most of seattle is a heap of rubble but the skyrises that dot its landscape is considered the major Hub in which people survive. There the Chairmen send out mercenary Reclamation Teams to scour the countryside. Raiding abandoned towns for supplies. Seattle has earned the renown for being a haven to anyone that can make the journey. Denver is the most secure city from the plague. But it's also extremely difficult to gain acceptance. The denizens of Denver are violently xenophobic. Often raiding nearby towns, occupied with the dead and living. They have also been known to enslave other survivors to keep their population in control or as a work force. The Year is 2032, you are a Waster. A person that wanders the Dead Wastes looking for Fortune, Food and Safety, Either way you are a survivor or your not. The Survival Guide: A book was printed sometime after the zombie plague that found its way into refugees hands, people were clinging to it more then they were bibles. Most Wasters have one and those that don't are usually dead. Printed on the first page is the ten rules to survival. #1: Get A Gun, keep it clean and conserve ammo. #2: Carry enough food and water for yourself and one other for five days. #3: Water, Bullets and Food are worth more then money. #4: Be Wary of large cities and graveyards. Walkers tend to pack together. #5: Do NOT Risk Your Life For Foolish Reasons. #6: Do NOT bury the dead, put a bullet in their head and no matter how hungry you are never eat a corpse of a human. Even if its cooked. #7: Scavenge what you can before you leave. Get some kind of transport and sleep only during the day. Zombies are less active during the day, they also see a third as far their eyes cannot handle sunlight. #8: If you find a group of refugees lead them to the nearest town that you know is safe. Either point them the way or take them with you. Caution, Be Sure They Are Refugees. #9: Get a buddy, they will watch your back and be a second gun incase you are surrounded. #10: Dog meat is safe, the infection only transfers to humans. Walkers (Zombies) Walkers are the walking dead. They are NOT like you see in movies. Walkers generally shuffle around but if they spot prey they will break out into a sprint but they cannot sustain this so you can outrun them. Also Walkers freeze if you shine light into their eyes. Giving you precious seconds to run or pull your gun so Always keep a flashlight with batteries. Aim for the heart or the head, anywhere else and you become Walker-Chow. Walkers hunger for human flesh, they tend to ignore other animals but if they are hungry enough they will try and eat other things. Another thing, Walkers cannot distinguish between human stink and rotting flesh. But they can smell soaps and other body cleaning products. So bathe when you are safe but when you are out in the wastes its safer to go without a bath. The Waster: The Waster is a person that doesn't want to, can't or isn't yet a member of a city or community. They are drifters. Often coming into a town to trade and seek safety. Many are hired by the leader of the village to perform tasks that they cannot do themselves or will not do in exchange for food or lodgings. The Commuter: A Commuter is a person that lives entirely in a small community of people. They are the farmers, survivors and refugees that have founded a community out of the wreckage of the old world. Most often they take over small towns and wall them off, living inside during the night and working the fields for food during the day. The Raider: Raiders are people who took to pillaging and raping the landscape, they steal, burn and loot everything they can. Usually moving in groups of 3-8 and they often jury-rig a vehicle to carry them great distances to do their foul deeds. Its widely known that Raiders own the highways. If your brave enough to travel on them you wont find Walkers but you'll find a all new kind of trouble. The Hubber: A Hubber is a person that lives in a Hub, a Hub is a beacon of trade and commerce in the wasteland. Often a capital city or large city that is ruled over by a despot or council of some kind. There thousands of people scratch out a living under the gaze of mercenaries and assault rifles and surrounded by the stench of desperation and the electric hum of electrified fencing. Name: Gender: Race: Description: Weight: Equipment: Occupation: (Scavenger, Reclamator, Bounty Hunter) Birthplace: (Post or Pre Outbreak) The Rules Of The Game: Do Not Godmod (I.E. I shoot all the walkers with my .22 pistol) Do Not Control Another Charecter/Player That Isn't Apart Of Your Story. You Do Not Start With A) A Car B) Tons Of Ammo C) Tons Of Food. Be Realistic. Have fun.

I downloaded the Pipboy Readius and I like it but I kinda wanna go back to the offical pip-boy. I need the vanilla files to over install on readius or some other way to restore the pip boy instead of the readius. can anyone help me. Please PM me with the help.

Sigma removed the locks and took the suit off, his body was framed in an exoskeleton, his body was a mountain of muscles that rippled with stored power. Obvious modifications via gene-tonics. The wound had clotted and it was crusted with blood, his body was a variable painting of countless scars from gunshots, burns and knife wounds. Sigma nodded to the man and lifted his arm over his head.

Ronin finished his work and slid the machete into its sheath on his back. He picked up his bow and smiled. "Leela." He said as he drew back the string. His mind drifted to a young hunter, one of the few female hunters in his tribe. She preferred the bow over firearms and was a master with it. He decided to call his bow Leela in her memory, the wind began to swirl around him and he could feel its call. It was time to leave. He packed his goods and started walking, Sam at his side and the wind at his back. His desire to hunt legionaries calling him.

*shrug* long isn't hard :) Dude, 5 man squad...a company is just way to over-powered.

Ronin sat down on a rock, the area around him littered with dead ghoul corpses and spent shell casings. He set his bow down next to him and reached into his rucksack and removed a recently caught squirrel and started to cook it. As he did Sam cam trotting over the hill, blood on his face from catching a rabbit and his tail wagging furiously. He was happy to see his friend alive. "Hello Sam, looks like you got yourself a hare..." He said to the dog as he laid down on the otherside of the campfire. Sam barked a response and looked over to see the other dogs and shot right up, his tongue lagging on the outside of his mouth. The squirrel cooked well over the small burner, Ronin lost himself in cleaning and sharpening his arrowheads. Memories of the arena in Phoenix. Watching as his tribe was enslaved, he watched as they died of sickness and war. He laid his machete across his lap. He ran the whet stone across the edge slowly and with pressure. He wore out the nicks in the blade. "A blade is not only an extension of a warriors arm, it is an extension of a warriors soul." The same saying rang in his head repeatedly as he ran his stone across the blade.

Ronin looked him over cautiously. He never had good reasons to trust Regulators but these two seemed okay to him. "Ronin, my name is Ronin.." He said calmly, he heard the ghouls beginning their retreat as the civilians opened fire from the apartment windows. Ronin took the time to retrieve the arrows his could which didn't take him long and he came back to the courtyard. An older woman came out of the office, a pistol in her hands. "Is it over?" she asked him, he looked at the gun and smiled. The gun's slide was pulled back and it wasn't even loaded. "Yeah they are gone..."

Ronin kinda liked this guy. He peeked around the corner and saw the ghouls had begun entrenching by the brahmin ranch. "Find the commander, kill him the siege stops..." Ronin said as he drew back on his bow and loosed an arrow, the arrow soared high into the sun and came down on a ghoul soldiers head as he chased after a woman, the arrow lodged itself deep into his skull and he dropped to the earth and rolled alittle with momentum. He notched two more arrows and drew back on the string while laying the bow flat and loosing the arrows as the same woman was pursued by two ferals, the arrows sunk dead center into each ones chest and they fell into a pile of radiation rotted and mutated flesh. "Thank you!" said the woman desperately as she wheeled around the corner and joined the other civilians.

Ronin groaned in response and then quickly notched and arrow and loosed it, the arrow whipped past the stranger and went through a ferals eye before coming to a stop in the wooden wall behind the ghoul. "We could hold up in the apartments, stock ammo and guns...but Regulators should be here soon." he said as he stood, he ran a hand through his braids and notched another arrow. The stranger was oddly dressed but he was a good shot, thats all that really matters to him. "I'm not a regulator..." He added as he whistled loudly at a few of the Militamen crouching near a wrecked car. "Take your ammo and civilians inside and hold up in the apartments." he barked at the militia.

Ahh hello Bryce, my real name is Mac...Macman was a name I picked up in my unit. That and Mac 'n' Cheese but that is a totally different story lol. I see, well let me know if issues arise.

Interesting character Baldur, will very much enjoy RPing with you. I would like to add taht I have no personal issues with you so don't worry about that here. Flipout, nice character I like his concept. To Brutii, A company is large, well over 150 men strong. The NCR doesn't really have the resources to let a Company go calavanting around the wastes. besides its easier to RP a squad then a huge company and because you can create more likeable characters when you've got four companions. Mostly don't want you overtaxing yourself as a writer, I have some military background and I can tell you. Command of anything squad or company is hard enough let alone transcribing characters to paper and then try to get them to deal with that. If you want a company go ahead but understand it will make for long posts and its hard on the hands.

Ronin drew back his bow and loosed an arrow, the arrow flew straight and sunk fletching deep into the skull of a feral as it crawled on its hands towards one of the Novac citizens. He tapped a button on the compound bow and it collapsed. "Nice..." He thought as he stowed the bow and drew his Machete. He reached into his coat and drew a machete gladius and charged, slicing the head clean with the gladius and parting its legs from his torso with his machete, the feral fell apart in a gory mass and ronin rolled to his left behind a barrier as the bullets from the ghoul soldiers raked the barrier, some punching through but most just bounced off the concrete barrier.

Sigma growled a warning when he saw the stitching needle, he shook at the thought of a needle in his flesh and placed his hand out in front of the man trying to help him. He reached up and grasped one of the four tubes attaching his diving suit helmet to his suit and pulled it free. It snaked around as air decompressed, he removed the other four and slowly removed the bulky helmet and set it down on the ground with a thud. His face was normal with the exception of a few scars, his hair was dark brown and one eye was blue the other was green. He reached into his toolbox and grabbed a notepad and pen and scribbled something with a shaky hand. "Suit makes it hard to heal, need to remove." the note read as he held it up to the mans view.

Drop the company to a five man squad and your approved, minus the Anti mat rifle...Recommendation drop to a lieutenant, its easier when your not prick-waving with the other officers when you can use them as sources of RP. If your a shot-caller it makes for boring RP. But that is an opinion do it your way.. On the general whole though, Majors lead Company's they are usually four platoons. A Captain will lead up to a Platoon or Five squads and a Lieutenant will manage up to two squads and a Sergeant will manage a squad. Instead of being the all badge no brains rookiee officer, be a seasoned sergeant Veteran, have the respect of your men and make your squad legendary in their loylaty and capability. either way your character these are just alternate ideas for you.

Deuce turned away from the window and checked his pistols, he pulled the slide back and chambered a round. "I've got to go..." He said coldly, a stern look on his face, he set the glass down and waved as he left. He hurried out of the building and began to follow to distant baying. After about an hour he came to its original source, a large alley about ten miles from the Ritz Carlton. He watched the asphalt ground closely and noticed various scratches and blood marks, the scent of a pack was all over. Strangely he smelled gunpowder and the stench of humans..."Hunters..." he thought as he looked around. Behind a dumpster he found a dart, the tip was covered in blood and reeked of tranquilizer. As he examined it he felt as if eyes were on him. He heard breathing, out of instinct he drew his pistol and aimed it at the source but as he did he felt a sharp prick on his neck and everything went dark.

Ronin came up over the ridge to see his partner fighting the ghouls, the civilians who didn't have weapons must be inside, the towns guard were holding their own barely but the ferals made this fight a close quarters fight. Ronin flat out ran, as he ran he dropped the duffle bag of weapons near his wounded friend and drew his bow on the run, he notched an arrow and pulled back, the arrow loosed and passed through the hearts of two ferals coming at him in a line. He notched another and drew, he didn't even aim he loosed the arrow and willed it to go where he wanted. The arrow struck one of the Ghoul Officers in the eye, he knew this fight would get to close so he went back to his friend and handed him the shoulder holsters with the twin peacemakers, the engraved rattlesnakes on the grips shoned in the light. "Here take these, a gift from a GLF sergeant..." He said as he pulled out a small cluster of arrows and pinched them to his bow with his forefinger and notched another arrow. He stood only to have a ghoul swipe at him, he ducked the swipe and hit the dirt, his back on the ground he pulled back the string and loosed an arrow into the ghouls skull, the ghoul toppled over just as Ronin rolled out of the way. "The GLF soldiers are on the other side of the town, by the houses. If we kill the officer they will fall back!" He yelled over the gunfire, bullets peppering the small courtyard around the novac motel.

Ronin awoke with a sore head, his hands were bound and laying on the ground in front of him was his equipment and all around him were nearly fifteen ghouls. Reinforcements shad come up on him and got him. Sitting on a rock in front of him was the Ghoul sergeant, he casually smoked a cigarette and smiled when Ronin stirred. "Well my friend, you are one tough sonofabitch." He said as he stood up and came closer, he strokes on of Ronin's braids and fingered a beaded braid. He smiled sadistically and walked around him. "Twisted Hairs, been a long time since I've seen one of their scouts...that would most likely make you the last." He said as he drew a pistol. He rotated the cylinder and checked the rounds inside the colt. "Tell me how many people are on their way to the town." He said, Ronin spat at him "Chakaar!" He shouted in his own language. The officer smiled and nodded "The infamous defiance of the Twisted Hairs. I see you prefer a bow...how primitive but.." He said as he picked up Ronins bow and looked around to the corpses of his men with arrow shafts imbedded inside their chests. "They are still effective in this day and age..." He continued as he drew the second pistol and threw it at his feet, the three other ghouls moved around behind their sergeant and he took ten steps back. "Like the cowboys, they fought the tribals of their days...since you shun firearms this will be easy.." He said with a cocky smile, Ronin stood and wrestled his arms free and picked up the revolver, he wanted to play a game and Ronin was going to teach him. He stuck the revolver in his belt and waited. His heart pounded like a stampeding Bighorner, he closed his eyes and listened to the world around him. The bird chirping on the rock above them, the geckos calling out for mates. He could hear the breeze drafting in through the tunnel and smell the iron of the blood from the dead soldiers. He heard the drawing of the ghouls colt and he himself drew with near impossible speed and slammed back on the hammer, a torrent of bullets flew across the canyon and tore through the ghouls. Ronin casually twirled the revolver and slid it into his belt and approached the injured Sergeant. "Bows and knives make a warrior smart, guns make a warrior a fool...just because I don't use guns doesn't mean I can't use one." He took the other pistol off the dying sergeant and collected his gear. He rummaged around for a duffle bag and began loading the ghoul patrols guns and ammo into the sack, the reinforcements had came stocked but they must have left for Novac, the sounds in the distance told him the battle had begun. He slung the bag over his shoulder and took off at a trot for Novac.

Ronin watched as his new ally ran off to get aid, the stench of ghoul's filled the air. He drew two arrows from his quiver and pinched them in his forefinger and laid a third across the strings and notched it. Sam began to growl, his eyes fixed on something in the distance and his tail became stiff. "I know friend, their out there..." He said low, one of the smaller GLF patrols was no more then a hundred yards away. Ronin stood, took aim and loosed his arrow, the head traveled at breakneck speed through the air and struck the lead ghoul square in the heart. The Ghoul Lieutenant clutched the arrow and looked up, he stared right into his killers cold dead eyes and finally fell over, dead as a gecko in a deathclaws jaws. His comrades opened fire but at these ranges their assault rifles and shotguns were of no use, pullets peppered the earth around him, he notched another and drew back. Pulling the string to his ear and let loose another arrow, this one flew straight and struck another ghoul between the eyes. He turned around and began to run as fast as his feet could carry him. He knew the fifteen man patrol would give chase. Many of them fired on the run, wasting their ammo but that is what he wanted them to do, run out of bullets. After about half a mile he came to a small gulley, a rock outcropping on the cliff ahead proved perfect cover for an ambush, the boxed ravine made coming back nearly impossible if someone were up there. He drew his knife and rummaged through his rooksack for some materials and set to work, he had ten minutes till they would find him so he worked as fast as he could. First he fasioned a grenade bouquet out of dental floss he had scavenged some months back, climbing up the rock he set it up over the small entrance hole that provided the only way into the cavern, he ran it down to a tripwire along the earthen floor. He drew his machete and took some hemp rope from his bag and found some wooden branches, he quickly sharpened the tips and lashed them together with the other end tied to a log that stretched across the gap. His plan was for the ghouls to enter the cavern, trip up the grenades and then as they recover from the explosion to have this swinging spike trap come in at chest level. Sam sat wagging his tail happily as he watched his partner work, Ronin stood up and kicked dirt at him. "Go! Go hunt some rabbit until I call for you..." He said as he picked up his bow and notched another arrow. Sam turned away and left by squeezing through a small gap between the rocks. He set himself up, laying his quiver down next to him on his outcropping. The rock in front of him acting as a barrier, Sam began to growl as the ghouls approached. The lead ghoul was young, he stood well over seven feet in front of the others. Ronin drew back on his bow and loosed an arrow, the arrow found purchase on the neck of the ghoul soldiers armor, digging in at the neck between in chin and armor and going straight into his heart. The ghoul dropped onto the tripwire and the grenade bouquet fell into the middle of the crowd of soldiers. The blast was spectacular, bits of gore and flesh rained down all around the ravine. Ammo fired off from inside their rifles and side arms, turning the survivors into swiss cheese and peppering their bodies with bullet holes and shavings. After the commotion stopped the rest of the Ghoul force entered, Ronin drew back on his bow and aimed at the rope holding the swing-trap and counted to three. "One.." He said to himself, the ghouls had piled in and scanned the Ravine, some tending to the miraculously still alive and others searching for their quarry. "Two." He said again, his palms sweating he drew the bowstring back to his ear, his muscles shifted in strain. "Three.." He said just before he loosed the arrow, the arrow soared through the air and sliced cleanly through the rope and the trap descended upon the unwary soldiers, the spiked front of the bundle of sticks plowed into the chests of two ghoul soldiers, Ronin popped his head up over the rock and scanned the crowd, "Five..." He thought as he notched two arrows and popped up again, he drew back the bowstring and fired, both arrows found purchase in a ghouls chest, one in each lung. Ronin dived out of the way as the remaining ghouls opened fire on his position. Bullets ricocheted off the walls of the ravine and chewed the dirt, the hail of lead only stopped when they lost sight of him and ran out of ammo. "Hey amigo! Come down and we talk ey? We spare your life if you throw down your weapon's and surrender cabrone." Said the ghoul sergeant, he held up his chinese assault rifle and smiled as he changed out the magazine. Most of his face covered in large aviator rayban glasses and a red bandana tied around his neck like a scarf. Two shoulder holsters for revolvers sat at his chest, twin colt peacemakers with rattlesnakes etched into the grips, this man was a fighter, Ronin could smell the booze and bloodshed on him. Ronin smiled, they were actually trying to get him to surrender when they only had four men left. Ronin laid on his back behind a rock and notched another arrow, as he stood up and aimed he felt the barrel of a gun and the familiar clicking sound of a pistol's hammer at the back of his head. "How the hell did someone sneak up on me?" He thought as the stranger smacked him hard across the skull with the pistol and Ronin fell into blackness.

Deuce nodded at Jennie, "My thanks, usually hunters aren't so open minded..." He said as he pulled a cigarette out of his pack and crushed the pack and tucked it into his pocket, he flipped open his zippo and lit it, drawing in the smoke and savoring the taste. "Here is the trouble with Blacke, we don't know how to kill him but I do know he is planning something, it is all connected to the packs...more and more packs are siding with Blacke." He explained and blew out the smoke. His ear twitched bringing the distant baying to his attention. They're hunting, for me maybe but they have picked up a familiar scent. He thought as he drew on his cigarette and walked to the window and peered through.

Anyone ever play the Far Cry games? If so then grats its still considered one of the best shooters out there if not heres a description of the current events of the RP. The battle takes place in a area of south africa, this area contains two provinces one is Leboa-Sako and the other is Bola-Sako, each of these regions are in a constant state of war between two factions. The APR and the UFLL, The APR is mostly a desponded group of killers and child-soldiers but they have control of the diamond trade and with the Jackals aide they have a large arsenal, The UFLL is mostly consistant of mercenaries brought in for the conflict, well-trained and armed but outnumbered the UFLL has held their ground. Both sides have contracted to a legendary arms dealer known only as The Jackal, he supplies weapons of great value for basically nothing but rumors persist that he is dying of cancer. Despite this The UFLL and The APR duke it out in all but two cease fire zones, Pala in Leboa-Sako and Port Selao in Bola-Sako. Both factions are present here and both factions keep close watch on one another but a loop hole in their treaty does not regulate to hired mercenaries, the region is frought with mercenaries and they all take jobs for either faction or The Rebels, a group that fights to protect the civilians stuck in the DMZ that aren't able to leave. Paper currency is totally worthless here, the only thing of worth is guns and diamonds, the weapons dealers all trade for rough diamonds and most of the mercenaries are paid in these. To survive in this conflict you must have contacts, or 'Buddies' they usually give you information, aid and will point you in the right direction. As a character you can choose who you fight for, UFLL, APR or The Rebels. Or just stay freelance, even if you want you can just be a civilian. Nationality is no concern in this conflict, each side is mixed with mercenaries and people from many nations, since travel out of the region is locked down anyone that was there is now stuck there. The Factions: Currently both factions are on a cease fire treaty, since the outbreak two years ago they have been fighting, in the last two months they have agreed to a cease fire and have begun rearming and consolidating. Due to a loophole they have continued their war in secret with the aid of The Mercenaries, usually able to find one of these freelancers at Mikes Bar outside of Pala or The Marina Bar in Port Selao. Each of those cities possess a faction HQ for all the factions. UFLL: Lead by a man named Addi Mbantuwe and his subordinate Dr. Leon Gakumba lead the UFLL and its contracted mercenaries with iron rule. Currently they are hiring freelancers for assassination and convoy attacks, hoping to seize their weapons and ammo and kill their lieutenants. The UFLL has many humvee trucks and T-34 tanks at its command but due to the dense jungle they are limited to their use at checkpoints and in desert skirmishes. APR: The Leader of the APR is Major Oliver Tambossa and his lieutenant, Prosper Kouassi. The APR has a reputation for being chaotic and brutal, they recruit by way of force. Taking men as young as twelve and inducting them into the military. With sheer numbers they have pushed the UFLL into a corner but the one thing they do not have is an abundance of war vehicles, unlike the UFLL with their very many vehicles they have taken to repurposing cargo trucks and 4x4 trucks to turn into Gun-Trucks and Technicals. The main focus of the APR is sabotage and convoy protection, the UFLL has stepped up their Black Operations on APR storage facilities and Convoys, Despite the ownership of the roads they cannot keep their stock moving without conflict. The Rebels, no official leader of the rebels exists but each operates in a cell and multiple cells exist in each region, some focus on smuggling civilians out of the country and others focus on sabotaging or using guerilla tactics against the UFLL and the APR, others are usually River Pirates that stalk the chain of rivers to attack patrols of The UFLL or the shipments of The APR, the Rebels along with the weapon dealers in the area have produced a strong and thriving Black Market, mostly based in Port Selao. At the funding of the rebels, public transportation has been brought back to allow civilians to travel between the regions but these are slow and ineffective due to every faction patrol stopping and inspecting them for smugglers. Since malaria is an epidemic in the region the Rebels have been supplying those that support them with malaria pills and other treatments. The Mercenaries, far from an organized brotherhood these bands of cutthroats and villains fight for nothing but greed and blood. Some have hearts of gold but a heart of gold in this region can be easily crushed, everyday the region is racked with gunfire and explosions as the mercenaries profit most from this war. Mikes Bar and The Marina Bar are the prime hangouts of mercenaries, places that even the factions fear to travel to unless hiring. The Mercenaries are so wild that even those on the run from the factions can find safety there. The Arsenal: Every weapon under the sun is in the region, RPG's and AK-47's, IED's and grenade launchers. but two weapons are required of every mercenary, The Machete. Close quarters combat powerhouse and utilitarian tool, most mercenaries say "Never Leave Home Without It." And your handy sidearm, always have a gun. If you don't get ambushed by APR or UFLL soldiers looking for what you have or your life it will be someone desperate for food or diamonds. The gun works like a condom in a brothel, You will need it and when you don't have it your screwed. Get A Ride: Getting a vehicle is not hard, just walk up and take it. It's very likely that same car has been stolen six times that day so don't feel bad the original owner probably has gone through three vehicles since its theft. Getting Around: GPS devices and Smart-Maps are fairly common, most mercenaries and weapons dealers have them or sell them. the public transportation system is an effective way if you don't have a car, but traveling at night is not considered wise since the roads are patrolled and anyone caught at night are considered troublemakers and are usually shot on sight so be careful. Road Pirates are common, usually setting up ambushes at chokepoints and robbing refugees or travellers. Checkpoints are set up at the roads around strategically important places and act as buffers to these places, I.E. Airports, towns, cities and other facilities. Reputation Is As Useful To A Mercenary As Bullets Are To A Gun: Your Rep is everything, a poor rep with a faction usually gets you shot on sight, but this can be changed by openly attacking its enemies, (word gets around fast) Most contractors will contact you via phone call from your burner cell and request a meeting somewhere, in this case its good to have buddies to back you up incase it goes wrong. Buddies Are A Good Thing: Having a buddy that is good with a sniper rifle, or fixing cars or saving your ass is always good to have. They will provide you with mission support, knowledge or even a safehouse. Buddies are almost always mercenaries but depending on the faction you work for that may change. Understand that in this war, everyone can be an ally or an enemy. Safehouses, Your Home Away From Home: A safehouse is useful as it gives you a base of operations, a place of rest and a place to store your weapons and ammo. Usually this can be a room in the Pala Hotel or a shack in the middle of nowhere. Either way it should be one of your closest secrets because if your enemies find out you may find yourself dead or at best, homeless. The Contractors Mambo: Working freelance usually gives you significant freedom, but it also means certain groups tend to hate you alittle more. When you get called in for briefing they give you a file with all the information they want you to know and tell you who to kill, what to steal, what to blow up or all of the above. Either way if they plan on paying you the standard is half up front, half on completion. Sometimes when you got to collect your pay you get a bullet in the head instead so this is where a buddy comes in handy. Depending on what goes on you could work for a group to build report, gain trust and information then dismantle it singlehandedly or even become a double agent, human life is about as worthless as paper currency. This RP is all about choices, choose to spare the men that tried to kill you or make examples of them, survival is your priority and do whatever it takes to accomplish that. Oh yeah, heres the character sheet. Name: Nationality: Weapons: Equipment: Appearance: Background:

The town of Loudwater was mostly a quiet town, the taverns at night were often filled with song and revelry but tonight a wanderer sat at the table and drank to himself. He ate food and listened to the minstrel play his tune and sing. The carousing was suddenly stopped as two Half-Orcs barged in and sat down. An evil look in their eye and the stench of battle fever in the air, they wanted trouble. The young girl who served the food brought Kurashi another glass of wine and a plate of bread and meat, as she walked away the half-orc slapped her rump and smiled widely, he said something to her but Kurashi could not tell, he judged by the slap across his face it was something offensive. The orc stood quickly and grabbed the maidens arm and jerked her about. The patrons quickly moved out of the way in fear of reprisal. "C'mon little lady, ten silvers.." Said The Orc as he held up a pouch. Probably money he took off a wanderer outside of town. Kurashi took a drink of his wine and stood, he approached the Orcs as they fondled the woman and she began to scream. The other patrons did nothing in fear of retribution. "You! Let her go or face me!" Yelled the stranger, his clothes were worn and old. Brought on by long months of travel and were stitched and repaired quite poorly. A large glyph was transcribed on his back and he carried a staff with him giving Gorlak the opinion he was a pilgrim. "Hey bub you watch who yer' talkin' to. Otherwise me' mate 'ere will be forced to break ye' frellin' skull!" Yelled the burly orc as he pointed at the pilgrim with a fat green finger and poked him hard in the chest. The stranger smiled and grabbed him by the finger and twisted it, the knuckle cracked and broke and the orc screamed like a pig stuck on a spear and dropped to his knee. Kurashi had the orc now, he lashed out with a sharp switch kick that took to the Orcs face and shattered his nose, the second orc roared in anger and drew his sword and swiped it at Gorlak's attacker, the man appeared to meld around the blade and he struck the orc with the back of his hand that sent him stumbling. Kurchak groaned in pain, he felt like he had been struck with a hammer across the face. Kurashi curled his hands back and stomped on the ground, his body became a lithe mass of sinew and muscle that flowed like a snake preparing to strike. Kurchak roared again and charged, swinging wildly with his sword, Kurashi moved around the blade like he was cutting at water in a fast stream, he let loose a flurry of punches directly to the bandits chest, the bandit buckled under the assault and flew backwards, crashing into the table and split it in half, sending beer and food flying across the Tavern. Gorlak stood, he was trained in Raging Bear, a strong combat style often used by Orc warriors because it compliments their strength and toughness. He took long sweeping strikes that pushed the drunken boxer back across the room, Kurashi moved under the strikes and dropped to his hands and pushed his feet up in the air and kicked hard, both feet connected under the orcs chin and caused him to drop back on the floor with a loud thud, Kurashi pushed off the ground and flipped onto his feet, he dropped into Drunken Monkey and began walking on his hands and swiping low at the other orcs feet, the strikes tripped up the orc and as he fell forward Kurashi put both his feet on the orcs chest and pushed off. His alcohol fueled strength sent the heavy orc flying to the roof and bouncing off, the orc screamed as he fell towards the floor. Kurashi rolled out of the way as the orc struck the floor with a loud thud and fell silent. With the two bandits subdued he stood and smiled, the waitress kissed him thankfully on the cheek. The girl was young and pretty, she handed him her room key and whispered something in his ear and began helping her father clean up after the fight. The Watchers soon arrived and took the bandits away, for the rest of the night Kurashi enjoyed himself.

Name: Kurashi Cho Race: Human Age: 27 Class: Monk/Drunken Boxer Alignment: Chaotic Good Deity: (None) Place of Origin: Black Leopard School Appearance: Lithe and muscular, knuckles and hands are hardened by years of unarmed training and countless scars on his body. Has long black hair and walks with a stagger. Armor/Clothing: Wears mostly travelers clothes due to his nomadic lifestyle but the karmic symbol is stitched on his back Weapon: His quarterstaff and fists, or whatever is lying about (tables, chairs and ladders etc) Personality: Despite his monk background his is sociable and fun loving, he loves to drink and carouse and is often seen cracking jokes and playing pranks. Most consider him a drunken layabout and fool but those who have faced him in battle know he is a serious warrior. History: Born in the Black Leopard School Of Martial Arts to a desponded prostitute and a noble father, the noble swore to kill the woman for bearing his child he killed the woman as she brought the child to the school for safety, the monks defeated the arrogant man and sent him away, taking the child in they named him "Dog" because he his first real words sounded like dog barks. As the boy grew older the Master of the school a famous warrior named Kurashi Cho took him in and raised him as his son after his own sons death in battle. The master was killed by the arrogant noble in revenge for his humiliation many years earlier, the boy sought out his father and stormed his estate in a drunken rage and defeated his men using the style of combat that his master taught him, Drunken Boxing. Most martial artists consider it a wasted style for show and exhibition but few know that it is one of the strongest forms but takes the strongest toll on its users, they often become drunken louts and end up dying because of it. After confronting the boy he gave his name is Kurashi Cho and in his drunken rage he severely crippled the nobleman. Because of the nobles connections Kurashi was sent away and he has drifted in search of a home and adventure. (Sorry for the change I just didn't feel a Jann character so I created something new.)

"East, towards Nelson..." He said calmly, his attention turned quickly away when he caught the drift of rotting flesh in the air. A strong smell coming from upwind and to the southwest. "GLF patrol, southwest...I need to get moving.." He said as he drew his bow and notched an arrow and started southeast. Sam growled in protest at him, he stopped instantly and looked back over his shoulder. "Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman?" He said to himself, as if reciting a code from a book of prayer. He ran his hand through his long dreadlocks and turned to the Regulator. The amount of the stench in the air might not be apparent to him but it soon would be a wisp in the air. From the amount he could smell it is a large raiding party close to twenty men and atleast twice that many ferals. More then enough to overpower the small militia that Novac managed to build recently. "You believe in doing what is good for everyone, willingly and without want for reward or respect?' He asked the stranger, from his attire and obvious affiliation to the Regulators this was most likely the case in his opinion but Ronin could never be sure.

Vykk Drago, Ald'ruhn. House Hlaalu Embassy. Vykk Drago, the tall and lithe human walked through the fairly busy Embassy offices in the center of Ald'ruhn. Dunmer went back and forth to deal with their various houses official business. Vykk moved stealthily in the crowd, his hood shielded his face from the prying eyes of the Redoran and Hlaalu guards. The two houses were not in the best of conditions and their attitudes against one another have recently declined into bloodshed but governmental buildings were considered neutral ground. His target, a dunmer representative of Hlaalu walking a few feet in front of him. Mordin Hlaalu, Vykk stalked him warily since his bodyguard was an Ex-Morag Tong operative and after the fiasco at their estate they have been on the watch for assassins. Mordin walked into his office and the bodyguard stayed out front of the office. Vykk quickly ducked into a doorway and drew his crossbow, he locked in the bolt and waited, he flipped one of his daggers from his sleeve with expert grace and waited. The room emptied after awhile and he popped around the corner and fired. The assassin drew his sword but the bolt struck the man in the shoulder, he screamed and winced in pain. He wrenched the bolt free with a stressed groan, when he recovered Vykk was already on him. Vykk thrust his knee into the assassins stomach and sunk the knife into his neck. The Morag Tong assassin clutched his neck as blood spurted from the wound. Vykk grinned cruelly as he grabbed the blades hilt and kicked the assassin free of the knife. He opened the door and stepped inside, he barely dodged the firebolt that shot out at his head, out of reaction he flung the blade from his other sleeve that struck his attacker in the stomach. Vykk smiled, he walked over calmly and spun the blade around his fingers. Mordin spat at him as he approached but he just drove the other knife home in the dunmer's skull. He removed both blades and searched the office. After a few minutes he found the piece of parchment with a map drawn on it, of a route from Vivec to Ald'ruhn. Vykk drew two pairs of gold coins from his pouch and placed them on Mordins eyes and the other pair on the eyes of his bodyguard as he left.