# The Emperor's Forgiveness (a penal legion roleplay)(Recruitment Thread)



## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

_"Put them where...? I don't give a flying fuck where you put them, just put them away from me" 
Colonel Erkl Kritz of the Heidren 45th Regiment to Colonel Silas Aren of the Saben Penitentiary 23rd Deceased​_




It has been thousands of years since those of flesh saw him, millenia since the temple doors were slammed shut and sealed, silence descending as the dust cloud faded to reveal a wall of purest stone, fused and sealed as if their had never been an entrance.

Some banged upon the stone, some prostrated themselves before it wailing in horror and sorrow, the hiss of iron through the air the only answer to their desperate prayers. Their blood stained the very steps they knelt upon in penance for their disobedience, their corpses becoming rotting masses of disfigured flesh, then skeletons as the millenia passed, their bones becoming the guardians of the temple they had sought to prize open.

None have seen him, though his image seems to burn upon the retinas of many of the eldest, a faint reflection of his glory in their dreams.

None have heard him.... except me.

Why he chose me and not his council, not his trusted apostles, I do not know... Verias says I have gone mad, that too much time in the Changer's eyes has addled my brains, that I should submit my mind for investigation... yet I know what I saw and Verias's laughter died in his throat as he looked into my eyes.

I saw a system of planets ringing an obscene entity of metal and gears, of smoke and sparks, i saw something beyond the naked eye, something held in space and time, the ooze of the warp, yet it is wrong, not a thinning of the veil but a fracture,. I heard his laughter, the rolling cackle of purest chaos even as he spoke a word in a voice of music, a voice I remember booming across Istavaan... across Calth

"Kill"


__________________________________________________________
_Aridon IV
Audio recollections of Halus eratus after the Great Deception that begun the Aridon conflict _

Dignitaries, men of industry, men of action, heroes of the Imperium, priests and noble officials of the mechanicum had stood upon this carpet, yet Halus could safely say, never men covered in blood.

Til today, this was not an ordinary day, this was a day of madness, when fires burned below him, a city in uproar... in chaos.

A single error, a single mistake, had lead them to this... to his 5th floor stateroom being filled messengers caked in blood, some of them with the faint whiff of urine making his nostrils wrinkle as they passed to talk in urgent voices to older men with differing numbers of stars and stripes upon their shoulders who turned to holographic projections of even older men with even more stars and stripes on their shoulders.

His aide has always said he should pay more attention to the military, yet who had the time when you had the system governor up your arse because the mechanicum officials were up his arse all because transports to the forge world were 3 minutes late leading to some infathomably tiny percentile decrease in efficiency. I mean who the fuck cared about 3 minutes.

He'd heard a governor of Aridon Tertiary had made that point once about 4 minutes 33 seconds and received a very clipped answer about how a General of the Imperial Guard would feel and perhaps he should take it up with them. Come to think of it, he hadn't been governor very long....

The system governor may rule the Aridon system, but everyone knew the power source was the forge world Aridon Major its position at the heart, as the dark black sun of their universe was metaphor enough.

A low humming beep took him mind away from the scene before him to the screen at his desk, a flick of his iris, bringing the screen up before him, projections of 3 other balding men sat before desks. At their centre a single desk and a space where another should be, a second glance at the circle showing 2 spaces where other governors should sit, noticably blank and dark.

The system governor sat at the centre of the circle, a single angry glance to the empty space on his left, to the void normally filled by the Fabricator General of Aridon Major even as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I have called this emergency meeting due to the reports of public unrest on Aridon IV, Aridon Minor and Hyperion. Aridon Major have not responded to distress calls par to send their dismay at the reduced productivity, whilst we have heard nothing from Aridon Fera or for that matter Aridon Mordus"

A tired laugh from the governors at the mention of the dead world. It was said before the... even innately he was scared to even think of it.... heresy.... Aridon I had once been a thriving world of rich promise, closest in orbit to the forge world, a hive of trade and industry, now an empty soulless husk. Rumors still lingered yet if anyone knew they kept their lips tight shut, any move to wipe it from the galaxy strongly protested by the Mechanicum due to.. they said at least... its sheer proximity.

Still a seat remained at the table, forever empty, forever in morning for the world lost.

"I will be frank gentleman, Aridon Prime is in the balance, yet the arbites still hold rule and with the great help of General Dius offering the early release of the freshly formed Aridon 154th and 155th from training to support him, Planetary Commander Mathius is confident he will have the troublemakers repressed in a few days."

A blubbery mountain of flesh stirred, words warbling into speech

"With all due respect Brutus" the system governor raised an eyebrow at the mass but did not comment at the use of his first name

"Hyperion, craves the attention of the 154th, the hives will starve if our production is checked any longer and though the Arbites hold the rebellion, a clean sweep of these bloody infidels would ensure that our soldiers and populace at least remain fed. If Hyperion falls, Aridon Major may be at peace but it will be fucking famished."

The governor to the mass's left opened his mouth to speak yet held his tongue, though the motion did not go unnoticed, Brutus looking upon him with curios eyes 

"Speak Calcus. What of Aridon Minor,your reports seemed quite damning a few hours ago, why hold your tongue now?"

"The governor of Hyperion's need is more pressing than mine, nonetheless i report with great shame Aridon Minor, is at a complete standstill, the rebels have barricaded themselves below and we cannot gain entry to the mines. Though they appear to be no threat, content to sit their and cause minor havoc to the foundations, without further support Aridon Minor will remain inactive." he turned to the empty space to his own left, the voice that had once been so serious, so ashamed, suddenly undertoned by a hint of glee

"I lost contact with the Governor of Aridon Minor Segundus little over 4 hours ago and though at the time he seemed untroubled and in good spirits I fear that his need may now be even greater than mine."

The system governor ran his hands through his hair once more with a shake of his head, his voice suddenly hard

"Your concern is touching Calcus. I spoke to Governor Barus a few hours ago and he is in complete control and has thus opened up transport links with the hives Aridon II and Aridon III to compensate for your reduced productivity."

Calcus's face flushed,a flash of fear crossing his features even as he bowed his head turning with a scowl at Halus, whose own features flushed in response as all eyes turned upon him.

His hive, was the main source of manpower for Hyperion and Aridon Minor, whilst providing a major source for Aridon Major. He could see how it looked, he could feel his tongue seizing in his throat even as the System Governor's eyes fell upon him.

"What does Aridon IV have to say of this Halus?" came the theatrical whisper. The silence built and Halus could not bare to meet those accusing eyes

"I'm afraid to report unless we move quickly Aridon IV will be a tomb within the week" he whispered to the hard wood of his desk
__________________________________________________________
_One Mistake:A brief history of the Aridon Campaign_

In response to the threats, forces of the were reallocated to support the Agri World Hyperion, the mining colony Aridon Minor and the hive world Aridon IV. Reinforcement reduced the situation to a steady stalemate with offensives on either side proving ineffective. However civil unrest and increased rationing upon the Capital of Aridon Prime lead to a hastily scrambled offensive on the agriworld of Hyperion, cost the newly formed Aridon 154th heavy losses for minimal gains. 

Rebel resurgence on Hyperion led to a second redployment of the remnants of the Aridon 154th leads to a successful rebel assault on the power generators of Aridon IV casting the world into darkness. Desperate the system governor called for aid, their call received by Battle Group 14 of Battlefleet Cantus, bearing the Heidren 45th and 46th Regiments supported by the Saben Penitentary 23rd Deceased.

It was the scum of Saben that would change the face of the war...
__________________________________________________________

*Rules*

These are just general and may be added too but can honestly all be summarized under...have fun, lets let our minds wander and dont be a nob however for forms sake 

1) No god modding- pretty obvious oh and no uber charactors, you have not killed a carnifex with a fart, your not a greater daemon of nurgle I'm afraid your a human and a poorly armed one at that
2) I am a description whore, i say it i love long descriptive posts so I'm looking for quality not speed. I'm happy for you to take two weeks and in turn give me something that is laced with imagery and blows my nuts off.

I put a lot of pressure on for good posts because I like reading them, love writing them but I'm flexible don't be put off on a quality issue, at the end of the day it's about having fun, enjoying yourself and if you want to improving your writing. 

I will do my level best to give you something to work with to inspire as much as I can, that's my job, yours is honestly to write and enjoy it, because if you aren't enjoying it whats the point.

3) If I'm giving too much. fucking tell me, I will get carried away and I wont know until I'm told to reign it in
4)I get final say, if i say no, no it is. I'm more than willing to hear both sides out or your side but at the end of the day if i say no its a no.
5) If you can't post let me know, if not once or more per update please.
________________________________________________________

I am looking for 8-12 Penal legionnaires, scum of the earth... or perhaps not so scummy... perhaps a man framed.. perhaps a man who commited a minor crime which upon his world which had grave consequences... however you ended up there is your story to tell...

*Please note*.... I have no idea what type of reception I will be getting to this... nonethless I wont be accepting charactors on a first come first serve basis but will be going on charactor quality, however I will give feedback on all charactors before making if necessary a final cut (however the odds of me getting twelve for this is really unlikely so I don't see it happening)

* Character sheet*

Name:
Age:
Appearance:
Quirk: A little something that makes you who your are

Background:This includes your pre penal legion life up until your incarceration upon Saben and specifically your crime that sent you there.
Please note i don't want all murderers and thieves, nor do i want all disgraced guardsman. Saben draws from all walks of life be it the scum of local worlds, guardsman that have committed a heinous crime even those convicted of fraud or petty theft so lets have a little variety.

One relic from a past life: You may have been allowed to keep one item from your past, either as a last request before execution or perhaps you snuck it in in a place best not checked, none the less each of you will have one thing from home. Please note no weapons, something entirely benine, a photo, a ring, a medal... one thing from your past, what is it, whats it's history, and how come you still have it...?

Reason for induction into the penal legion: did you volunteer instead of life imprisonment to try and stave off the inevitable, were you placed with the penal legions without choice or did you have a specialist skill that saved your from the death cells

Reaction to induction: I dont want a personality as such I think you find out more about a person as you go through the rp and i find people tend to divert from them. 

However are your repentant and desperate for the emperor's forgiveness, are you vengeful allowing spite to fuel you, are you desperate to survive, your service is for life, do you believe you may earn the emperor's forgiveness one day.... or perhaps you dont react at all as you have some other all consuming goal...?

Specialist skill: something you have and it does not have to be military, something that marks you out, that may not have been recognized, you may not even have shown, may have kept hidden

Relationships with other characters: your more than welcome to get together and work out any pre established bonds with other characters

"Notes about war gear:standard issue lasgun and combat knife along with regulation flack jacket and standard issue army khaki will be issued to everyone however as things move on, you may find things on the way, no guarantees.
_________________________________________________

Well I hope to see some characters, even if not, hope you enjoyed the read 

*Accepted characters:*

1. Xandar Tackett- Midge913

2. Vladimir Alanski- Angel Encarmine

3. Samuel DiStefano- Angel of Blood

4. Matthew Weaver- Maelstrom48

5. Mitijia Melansek- High_seraph

6. Julian Rhodes- Romero's Own

7. Thavian Rivette- Unxpekted22

8. Kane Levethix- DasOmen

9. Gaius Holden- Lord Ramo

10. Lucius Vermillion- JAMOB

11. Peitor Simmons- HOGGLORD

12. Tavian Freen- Signatus


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Per our discussion over MSN I will be tossing a sheet into the mix. Going to try and get it up later tonight or sometime tomorrow.


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

*Lucius Vermillion*

Character sheet

Name: Lucius Vermillion
Age: 19

The rest is impending, will post upon finishing changes


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## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

Not being picky here but JAMOB, deathy said he was a 'description whore' who loved long descriptions. But you gave a line and a half for your appearance.

You might still be working on it or death might accept it but i think the appearance is a vital part of a character sheet.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

hence why i'm still working on mine.


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Romero's Own said:


> Not being picky here but JAMOB, deathy said he was a 'description whore' who loved long descriptions. But you gave a line and a half for your appearance.
> 
> You might still be working on it or death might accept it but i think the appearance is a vital part of a character sheet.


No I'm not done yet  That was just a prelim typed up in ~20 minutes. I pretty much just wrote whatever came to mind... Ill expand later. Thanks for the concern though.

Oh, and should I break up the massive wall of text?


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Righty ho 

I've currently got a pm in my inbox and would tentatively 3 interested parties declared in midge, dasomen and jamob which takes us to the half way mark of 4 if all turn into charactors

I am in no rush on the time frame to get this going so take time with your charactors as I will require 8 to get this bad boy started my preference being 10.

So hopefully there are a few more who are pondering this with interest 

I will be sending a pm with any charactor critique so Jamob, let me know when you've editted him in full and I'll take a look, though breaking up that wall of text into a couple of paragraphs would really help ease of reading.


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## son of azurman (Sep 19, 2010)

ye if your going to post post it in full so that he doesn't have to keep checking the updates.


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## darkreever (Apr 3, 2008)

Romero's Own said:


> Not being picky here but JAMOB, deathy said he was a 'description whore' who loved long descriptions. But you gave a line and a half for your appearance.
> 
> You might still be working on it or death might accept it but i think the appearance is a vital part of a character sheet.





son of azurman said:


> ye if your going to post post it in full so that he doesn't have to keep checking the updates.


Right..while its true that you should post when your good and ready, these are comments that should be left to the GM and not the peanut gallery.

Romero, Deathbringer might have had no issue with the low amount of description in appearance because he and JAMOB discussed it another time. There is a reason why it falls to a GM to make decisions about his/her RP and not watchers/passerby's.

That JAMOB does intend to put up more; well knowing Deathbringer that means that all JAMOB has done is put up an unfinished character that won't even be considered until its done.


Azurman, Deathbringer already told JAMOB to PM him when the character is complete, your comment was beyond unnecessary; especially considering it came over an hour after Deathbringers. Its not your RP, so unless you have some stake in it back off with the presumptuous lip. (Also, not sure if your using 'ye' as 'yes' but apparently its old English for 'the'.)


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## son of azurman (Sep 19, 2010)

Sorry darkreaver didn't see the comment and I know is the gms job i just think that he shouldn't post the character half done


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Sorry for the confusion I've caused, i'll just edit it on my computer for now then post the edits when done.
Thank you Darkreever for the support... And thanks to everyone else for the criticisms.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Take your time jam if you want to edit your post so it just says you'll be putting up a charactor and then repost him when he's ready your absolutely fine too or else edit away and just give me a nudge when your done and I'll send out the critique.

as before *4 pending charactors*- 4 more people needed to start

Anybody else viewing from the peanut gallery  with thoughts of making a charactor would love to see what you've got 

Pm's always welcome if your looking to test the waters, (at the risk of sounding as desperate a preteen trying to impress the promqueen) really hoping to get enough people to this one going.

Thanks


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Still working on mine mate. Things got crazy yesterday with some unexpected company. Should be up by end of business tomorrow.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

I'll throw up a character deathbringer


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

I'll have the character I showed you up by Saturday


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

*Sergeant First Class Matthew Weaver*

*Name:* Matthew Weaver
*Age:* 26
*Appearance:* Average height, with brown hair and brown eyes, which have a tendency of turning hazel under bright lighting. When in uniform, Matthew is clean-shaven at all times, exposing a smooth jawline. Women describe him as cute, but most of the women Weaver meets are prostitutes who make their living behind the front line, and he knows better than to believe them. In his prior regiment, Sergeant Weaver had a muscled build, but months of incarceration have sapped much of his strength and stamina, and he currently has the flabby look of a strong man gone to seed--a state he plans to change as soon as he's released. He has a round scar above his left kidney, about the size of a coin. It's the remnant of an old lasgun wound that burned clean through his torso.

*Quirk:* Weaver has a mild obsession with personal hygiene. It was a tendency even before he joined the guard, and he vaguely suspects childhood trauma to be the cause. The military only exacerbated the issue. Now he can’t even go to sleep without brushing his teeth first, and the grit of dirt between his fingers irks him to no end. Suffice to say, being imprisoned in a dirty cell—trapped in a six-by-six foot space with his own toilet—has been quite an ordeal for him.

*Background:* Sergeant Weaver doesn’t have much recollection of his hiveworld upbringing—just an explosion, and then having no parents. A faultily-repaired gas line was the cause, the constables told him later, but not like that really mattered. He spent his ensuing teenage years in the local Progenium orphanage. Acne was a real issue for him—another reason for his fixation on cleanliness—and the older cadets teased him constantly. He endured their derision with as much stoicism as a puberty-ridden teen could muster, but in the end, he decided that they weren’t going to stop on their own. Snapping one day, he punched the ringleader in the nose, and crushed it flat. That boy, unfortunately, was a school star—an early pick for the Commissariat, because apparently the schoolmaster couldn’t differentiate between disciplining and bullying. Weaver was thrown out onto the street with little ado.

If the Schola Progenium had instilled in him one trait, it was the love of all things military. Weaver was comfortable in a hierarchy, with a predefined role and a delineated chain of command. Order pleased him. So nothing else would do but to tramp to the local PDF recruiting station, and sign his name on the dotted line.

Private Weaver’s education quickly proved valuable in the ranks of the local PDF. Other trainees flocked to him in Basic Training, seeking his expertise in matters that ranged from fitting their flak armor to disassembling lasguns to filling out leave request forms—an odiously difficult task, because one incorrectly-filled box meant having your weekend pass cancelled. His conduct didn’t go unnoticed, and following graduation, the installation commander personally recommended his transfer to the Imperial Guard.

Weaver adjusted well to off-world duty. His regiment had recently undergone a punishing campaign and had plenty of ‘vacant’ positions to fill, so his stint as a Conscript was mercifully brief. Even as a cherry in his infantry platoon, the new private proved his worth. He was the very picture of military bearing, and gained recognition among his superiors for unerring professionalism. Weaver found himself propelled from Private to Corporal in the space of two months. He first saw combat almost a year after joining the Guard. In the pre-deployment briefing, officers described the operational risk level as ‘negligible’. Actual on-the-ground conditions were nothing short of catastrophic. Weaver led his fire team into the meat grinder, enduring months of trench combat—the unyielding bombardment, the everpresent filth, the sheer stress. Surviving was a feat in itself. Weaver thrived. His fire team didn’t stagnate in the trenches, or grow complacent. He kept them all sane, kept them focused on the mission. They embraced the suck together. When the time came to go on the offensive, Weaver led them from right up front. It was his team who cut through the enemy barbed wire first. They fragged the heavy bolter guarding the enfilade, clearing the sector for the men behind. Then they dove into the trench and murdered the enemy with lasbolt and combat knife. Weaver, out of ammo, resorted to beating an enemy NCO to death with his helmet, smashing his face in with repeated blows.

After the engagement, nothing else would do but a battlefield promotion. The man found himself Sergeant Weaver. Then Gunnery Sergeant. Then Sergeant First Class. With each increase in pay grade, he took on a new squad. Each time, the Guard got a little better. Weaver prided himself in that.

*One relic from a past life:* A tattoo—well within regs, of course. Guardsmen are issued one square foot of ink, as the saying goes, but Weaver hasn’t come close to spending it. The tattoo is on his upper right arm—the word Lena, written in loopy cursive script, long since faded. It was the name of the first woman he’d slept with. 

Soldiers are champion drinkers; it’s more important than marksmanship. His soldiers had foisted Lena on him at a bar when it came to light that he was a virgin. He suspected she’d been a prostitute, but his men would always swear otherwise. Either way, soon as he came out of the room, doing up his fly, the cheering soldiers enveloped him. They proceeded to pulverize his liver with shot after shot of liquor. Then they’d bought their passed out Squad Leader his first tattoo.

He’d been pissed when he saw it in the mirror the day after. His men had paid dearly for their fun. But they were all dead now. Blown to red bits. Yet another reason to hate his tattoo, and avoid looking at it at all times.

*Reason for induction into the penal legion:* The guard took his soldiers away. Or more accurately, one confused lieutenant had. Hopelessly disoriented in the labyrinth of mines, Weaver’s platoon leader had directed his lead squad to enter an unsecured tunnel, surmising that it might bring them closer to the surface. How wrong he’d been, and the sergeant had known it—argued over the vox for a solid minute, too. His nine years of experience hadn’t mattered worth a damn against an officer. The newly-commissioned LT would not be cowed.

Weaver did as he was ordered. He led his boys into the tunnel. Straight into the jaws of the rebels’ ambush. 

A tremendous explosion collapsed the far end of tunnel, killing his point man and the two nearest. Before the squad could retreat, a second detonation had sealed the far side. And the rebels—the fucking bastards—just dropped frag after frag through the ceiling vents, emptied dozens of clips of autogun rounds in after.

After half an hour of deafening hell, Sergeant Matthias Weaver no longer had a squad.

When the rest of the platoon finally blasted their way in, they found the sergeant curled beneath the bleeding corpses of two of his soldiers—the only cover he’d been able to find. The Lieutenant, pale and watery-eyed, had helped him up. Weaver promptly brought up his spent lasgun and slammed the butt into the LT’s jaw, knocking out half his teeth.

Anyone else would have been put up against a wall and shot. But given his exemplary military record, and the extreme events surrounding his crime, the company commander had chosen to spare his life—for the time being.

A sympathetic guard, passing Weaver his daily gruel through a slit in the cell door, whispered that a certain Commissar was coming to ask him a few questions. Great, Weaver thought. He hated those fuckers. Even if he would never say so. 

*Reaction to induction:* Flippant, resigned. Weaver is a soldier, and well-accustomed to authority. He knows nothing else but to bow to the dictates of his superiors.

*Specialist skill:* Tactical knowledge. Weaver knows it all: individual movement techniques, rifle marksmanship, cover and concealment, vox communication protocol. He’s licensed on pretty much every standard vehicle in the Imperial Guard arsenal, from a forklift to a Leman Russ. Can he hit a stray dog with a battlecannon from five thousand yards? No. Can he floor the accelerator and mash said dog into bloody pulp? Absolutely, given orders via the proper chain of command. He won’t like it, though. Not one bit. The intent of war is not annihilation, but rather measured, purposeful violence, aimed to achieve a predetermined end state. Therefore, running over a dog with a tank is stupid.

*Equipment:* An Imperial Guardsman, upon taking his oath, is issued with the following:
-	1 set combat fatigues
-	1 pair combat boots
-	1 lasgun (variable pattern)
-	Exactly 2 fucks.
Sergeant First Class Matthew Weaver spent his first when he smashed out his Lieutenant’s molars. He will use the remaining one wisely.


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Well, not quire sure why in the hell you posted twice  But that sounds like a promising character


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

except it really isn't a character sheet. 

First of all mate welcome to Heresy and the RP threads. The post you have posted above seems more like an action thread post, not so much a character sheet put forth for deathbringers approval. I would suggest reading over the first post once more, especially the rules he has set forth for character creation. What you have posted seems like it would be a nice addition to a background section, though, so I wouldn't scrap it, just change it a bit to fit the format required for a character sheet.


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Deleted the repost; sorry, the internet in Afghanistan cuts out at weird times, so me refreshing must have posted twice.

Thanks for the hint but I'm fully aware that I went against the usual format. I'd considered sticking to the format, but the character came to me in story form, and I felt it best to communicate his biography details that way. It's not an action post, just background. But deathbringer, if you want me to bulletize this, I can do it.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

fair enough mate. As I said it was good, I enjoyed reading it.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

this looks pretty cool, i will have a sheet up sometime this week. Would have one up sooner but work is crazy because of thanksgiving :headbutt:


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

I'm hoping to get the chance to read through this but will be very short on time due to family visiting for the next few days.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Great to hear guys, which if all sheets appears leaves us with 7 and hopefully 8 if it tickles unekpekted's taste pallet  which means to my tentative delight we have about enough to start, pending character sheets.

So if your working on them, then get them up people love to see what a rag tag bunch are going to be warring against the odds

As i said i will take up to 12 which I don't see happening but if there are any other tentative takers out there your more than welcome
______________________________________________________
MAelstrom: firstly welcome

Secondly: the display of the quality of writing your going to put out makes me a very happy camper that your thinking of joining.

On the charactor sheet I'm quite happy for you to use what you wrote as a part of your background, when it strikes it strikes and who am I to tell you if its right or wrong.

So I'm happy for you to count the little passage as your reason for imprisonment and a good chunk of your background, though i would prefer it if he was imprisoned awaiting the verdict of the legions commissar, who has currently been called back to hq. The commissar on return then chose to transfer him to the custody of the Saben Penitentary 21st that had been devastated in a similar situation to your own squad and were thus being forced to return to the penal world Saben for reinforcement. It just ties the whole thing together 

However i would like to know a little more of where he's from prior to the incident, what was his motivation to join the guard if he had any choice at all, what brought him to notice as sergeant material... was there an action, a circumstance that lead him to his position and somehow he thrived under it? It's a lovely story but i'd like it fleshed out to include a bit more detail before the incident and if you wish what happens after. 

whether you do that as story or as bullets is up to you but i'd like it fleshed out a little, need any help just pm or reply?

Also there are parts of the sheet that I'd like adding or reiterating, simply as it just makes it easier for others to describe and interact with your charactor plus the questions like age, quirk, reaction to incarceration and the item he still bears from his past do need answering.

so if you could use the format of the charactor sheet and just add a little more flesh to the back ground with regards to before and after that would be great. You could even if you want us what you've written as a flash back in your orginal post if you'd rather downsize it somewhat.

completely up to you... any questions pm or reply.

_______-----------------------------------

Looking forward to seeing those sheets


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

Name: Xandar Tackett

Age: 34

Appearance: Xandar is a bear of a man, standing around 6'5" and weighing in at around 280 pounds, every inch of it rock hard muscle. His flesh is a lattice work of scars from bullet and knife wounds, the the criss-cross pattern of a labor masters whip, each one adding to his brutish appearance. It may have been that at one point he bore an attractive countenance, but a lifetime of violence has erased any vestigages of it. His left eye is missing, the socket covered over with a metal patch that has been rivetted in place, the vicious scar that took the organ running vertically across the brow, underneath the plate to re-emerge on the other side. His remainin eye is a muddy shade of brown that stares out from underneath a pronounced brow ridge. A large hawkish nose dominates the middle of his face, crooked and bent in several places, trophies of the multiple times it has been broken. His face continually bears a scruff of growth, simply adding to his grim and intimidating appearance. 

Quirk: Utterly remorseless. Xandar has little to no conscience or ability to feel empathy. He is a sadistic killer through and through.

Relic: A ring, a simple titanium band engraved with a bulls head. It is a reminder of what he has lost and a motivator to keep him going to reclaim his former life. 

Background: Xandar was abandoned as a child very early in his life and like most children of those circumstances he found himself migrating towards the gangs that permeated the Underhive where he lived. Despite the danger, the seven year old, quite child, found that at least with the gangs he had something to eat and a roof over his head. At an early age, dextrous and nimble he proved to be an excellent theif, earning his keep with a quick hand and appraising eye. But as he grew and the years passed, his child's body grew into a large strapping young man, thick with muscle, hard and lean from years of hard living. 

As he grew in stature, he grew in reputation. By the time he was in his late teens he had six bodies on his hands and another half a dozen he had ordered killed. Xandar was known to be ambitious and it soon became apparent that he would go through anything and anybody to get what he wanted. His ability to inspire through fear and intimidation soon earned him a following of thugs and killers ready to jump to do his bidding, both out of fear of reprisal and because he was generous with his spoils. As he continued to set his sights higher and higher, he acquired more territory, his gangs branching out from simple intimidation and robbery to protection schemes, drug import and export, arms dealing, government tampering, and killing for hire. By the time that he was 24 years old, Xandar controlled over half the Underhive, his gang numbering in the thousand, his criminal empire thriving under his shrewd and ruthless leadership. Through bribes and threats Xandar had influence in the Planetary Governor's office and employees on his payroll in the highest ranks of the Arbites office. 

Even though he had employees to do the work for him, the giant of a man that Xandar grew into, refused to wash his hands of the dirty work. Revelling in the pain and suffering of other men and in the years that passed since his first killing, he could be personally be held accountable for the deaths of 46 different men. It seemed for almost 6 years that Xandar had become untouchable, but like most who over the course of history had felt themselves such, so too would Xandar fall from his position at the top of the mountain to wallow in the dirt with the lowest of the low.

Caleb Harkin, Xandar's long time compatriot and lieutenant, had become jealous of his bosses position. For years, unbeknownst to Xandar, Caleb had been building support with in the gang. It was three weeks shy of Xandar's 30th birthday that Caleb instituted his blood coup, killing many of the gang that supported Xandar and in an under the table deal with the Governor's office he turned Xandar and his other lieutenants over to the authorities. Xandar could do nothing but smile, a demented sort of smile, as the Governor sentenced him and his Lieutenant's to deal for treason and murder. There was no trial, no presentation of evidence, just a summary judgement. In the kangaroo court that was assembled Xandar watched all of his hard work torn down before his eyes. 

In a slow march from the 'courtroom' to the death cells, Xandar could feel no regret save for the fact that he had chosen to trust anyone. His thoughts, already violent and sadistic, turned to vengence and death. He knew that he would survive, that he must survive, to inact his vengenance against those that had turned on him and had brought everything that he had built to ruin. Surprising his guards, Xandar requested the right to be sent to a Penal Legion rather than die worthless here in a small rectangular cell. At least, there he would have the opportunity to regain his freedom to seek his revenge. After being forced to watch his men be executed, the Govenor granted his request and he was shipped off with about a hundred other souls to the Saben for the forming of the Saben 21st Penal Legion.

Inside the Legion Xandar found an environment in which he thrived. He was surrounded by his kind of people, cut throat, vicious men, some of which had heard of him. It was not long before he had a small following of soldiers who took their direction from him as opposed to the Legion officer. Proving that he and his boys were a vicious tool at their disposal, the Colonel in charge of the 21st mostly left Xandar to his own devices. 

In his first campaign with the legion, one in which the 21st and the Guard Regiment they were attached to were sent to help shure up defenses of a backwater world of Yetrick near Saben. The Dark Eldar, a people that Xandar personally could identify with, had begun to raid this world after large ore deposits were discovered just below the planets surface. In a series of vicious battles the Dark Eldar swooped out of the sky on their agile crafts, capturing men where they could, slaughtering where they couldn't. It was during this campaign that Xandar would lose his eye. Lasgun empty, he rushed forward to crush the slender form of the warrior before him, but its agility was not one that he had anticipated. Striking out with a flailing whip of blades that seemed to come from know where the xeno managed to rob him of the use of his left eye, which was eventually crudely removed by a legion medic, and tried to open his belly with the wicked blade. It didn't count on him not caring about his own death and with a roar he was on it, meaty hands clamped around its neck as he crushed the life from it. As the battle field cleared, the xeno menace beaten back at the cost of three quarters of the Guard Regiment and over half the Penal Legion, medics found Xandar, pale with loss of blood, but the wound in his belly crudely stitced closed with strips of his own shirt. 

His second campaign, took place on some fucking world he had forgotten the name of, but it was against a rebel human faction that was intent on overthrowing the imperial government. Fighting was fierce, but just as a freshly healed Xandar really started to enjoy things, his hands slick with blood, his lasgun hot from use, the Penal Legion was ordered to withdraw and they were sent back to Saben. What was left of the 21st Penal Legion was folded into the newly forming 23rd. Despite his frustration at being pulled out of a good fight, Xandar saw these fresh recruits as a good ground to once again grow his influence. 

Skillset: Where Xandar is a decent shot with a fire arm, he excels at hand to hand combat. His size and strength giving him the advantage in almost every conflict. He is also a ruthless businessman with a shrewd mind. 

Relationships with others: Xandar no longer has relationships with others save the fact that he does whatever he can do to get himself on the top of the ladder. He is untrusting and callous.

Wargear: Standard issue lasgun and combat knife along with regulation flack jacket and standard issue army khaki


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Sure; I was in the moment when I drew up that story. Trying to showcase a little so my low post-count doesn't deter people. Honestly I just threw it together in 15-20 minutes. I interact with sergeants every day here, so I have plenty of inspiration near to hand.

I tried to flesh out his character/appearance/general attitude, but I can understand why some of that is easy to miss, and I definitely did miss some of your requirements. Is it alright with you if I keep the story, but add in some summary bullet points at the end? I'll detail Weaver's prior background, tack on some of his extra info, and do my best to tie in to the start of the RP.

[Edit] And nice, Midge, that was pretty cool.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Midge: a beaut by my skim, i'll give him a read later on with some of the others and any critique necessary will come your way


MAelstrom: i'd never tell anyone to sod off just because you have a low post count
you'd be surprised how many gems come out of the 10- 100 post range so no worries there.

You've certainly showcased.

I can see you included the appearance and mindset, but i can tell you when your midway through a post, the appearance section just helps other posters and sometimes yourself remember what you've already established. 

also it really helps me if i start going off on one which I'm prone to do.

Honestly I would prefer if you use the character sheet on the first page, describe everything bit by bit, then in the reason and reaction sections just meld them all together like midge has done. If you want to go a paragraph before the story leading in to it, ie up to that campaign, bang in the story, and then finish off with the result from the commissar that is fine by me.

Honestly I can't give you a better example than what midge has just put up.

Either way, see how it flows, I can assure you, if I think something needs changing, I'll let you know 

Your always welcome to pm it to me before you post it, if you want to check something... that goes for everyone


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Ok, the post is edited accordingly. Let me know what you think!


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

I think that the character looks great man. Of course it isn't up to me, but I am pleased that you were able to keep some of your original exposition and incorporate it into the character sheet.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

Name: Kane Levethix
Age: 35
Appearance: one would describe him as being slightly tall for his build, he stands no wider than the average trooper, and is no heavier, though he is a good deal taller. at least two heads taller by most standards. he stands at a good 6.9 and seems to tower over others wanting to or not.

kane's face is devoid of battle damage for the most part save for a single scar running from his hair line to his jaw that slices through his eye. a cybernetic replacement now sit's in it's placed where his biological one used to be. the three red dots of his eyes optical sensors sit in a close knit triangle pattern, though it does nothing to hide the gruesome nature of his scar. his eyes before the implant were oddly enough already red, a rare genetic trate from his mother's side. the last known family member to have red eyes was his great great grandfather who ironically, also served in the guard, and also was directed to serve in a pineal legion.

his hair is long, blond, and travels down to his hips. what would be an ungainly mess that has never been cut a day in his life save for the occasional battle damage from stray bullets, las rounds, or other bits of shrapnel flying at him, is neatly braided down in a extremely tight braid leaving his hair neatly cropped back and down into the braid. a series of bands bind his hair and keep it tight. each band has a different quote from the uplifting primer etched into it's gunmetal band. among a few commissar's favorites are "suffer not the heretic to live" and "kill it with fire" 

Kane has a single tattoo on his arm. the text once translated from high Gothic reads "do you have any questions about promethium? or promethium accessories?"

Quirk: both a pyromaniac and a vicous vehicle nut. if it can be lit on fire, he will try to make it burn. Kane also has a bad habit of combing his hair, collecting the stray hair from the comb, condensing it for a few weeks into a single hand tied rope, and then lighting it on fire. he mostly does this out of boredom and when he's bored, he'll either find something to light on fire, or comb his hair, which normally leads to the former. Kane also obsesses over vehicles a bit, and if there's a chance to drive one, he'll take it, even if he's not officially qualified to drive it.

Background: Kane has always had anger management issues even since his days as a child. in school when he was bullied, he'd stalk the bully home, and then beat said bully with whatever weapon he could find until the bully was unconscious, often times, even after he was unconscious resulting in serous injury of said bully. he rarely ever had any repeat offenders. rather than join a gang which was half expected by the local law enforcement after several arrests, Kane actually signed on as a vender for a food stand when it came time for him to assist in the dealings of his home planet. after a few seasons of that, he signed on as one of the mechanics for the civilian motor vehicle plants. it wasn't until he was 25 that he joined the guard when they went to war and he was conscripted into it. 

Kane needless to say did not get along with his instructors, they would try and beat him, and unlike other recruits, he faught back. it wasn't an odd sight to see in training to see kane going up against a few trainers as some tried to restrain him. normaly ended up in kane being sent to medical ward, along with three or four trainers who got on the wrong side of his fists. after training he was assigned as nothing more than a simple co pilot in a transport truck. this menail job lasted for a while. eventualy kane finaly got to make his move. they were driving supplies to a forward outpost in the center of ork teratory, the driver of the vehicle got lanced by a ork beamy def gun. seizing controll of the mangled drive wheel kane shoved his former driver out of the now gaping hole in the side of the vehicle and placed his foot square on the pedal slammed it to the floor. the orks mopped up his escort in barely a minute flat, the light vehicles and the buggies were no match for the ork armor and the storm boys. what should have ended a scrap heap being looted by orks, ended up being the scarriest moment of kane's life, facing down a commissar pointing a bolter pistol to his forhead didn't even compare to this moment in time. armed with only a caravan shotgun and a las pistol, kane was forced to not only drive the vehicle around trecherous terrain but also fend off an ork attack at the same time. by the time kane made it into the site range of the bases's watch towers, ork boyz were scrambling onto his truck like ants, kane was driving the vehicle with one hand, and firing off the now snub nosed caravan shotgun with the other, bracing the wheel with a knee every so often to slap in a few more slugs into the weapon before promptly fireing again. the bases's marksmen promptly aided kane in making it the rest of the way and opend fire on the truck by the order of a commissar. a mixture of balistic round and las fire rained down on the truck picking off the orks from the bases's marksmen allowing kane to promptly drive into the base, loose controll, and roll the truck scattering the supplies he was dilivering over a good area of the base's entrance. for his valiant effort, he was awarded the brass skull for his efforts, a rare honor for a white cap. 

with his honors freshly pinned to his chest, his days as a white cap were over, and ironicaly enough his next job came from the base he had just dilivered supplies to, they needed a new gunner for one of thier hellhounds after a stick bomb made it's way into a open hatch during the last battle. and to be honest as the gunner for a hellhound, a job he actually fit the bill for rather easily, he did quite well. After serving as a gunner for several years, he was finally able to drive the vehicle, a event the regiment's commissar was not looking forward to, as it was "his" tank the commissar would be driving. in an attempt to weasle his way out of allowing the guardsmen to drive the vehicle, the commissar issued a challange to kane, a note that if he could complete this challange by any means nessassary, then he was worthy to drive the tank of a commissar. the challange was simple in it's words, get the hellhound on the top roof a building just outside the garrason walls. this was an event that the commissar was sure kane could not acomplish, no man could drive a tank up a building no matter what! so sure of this notion, the commissar actualy sat in the tank's turret area with the hatch open during his challange. kane heard one thing and one thing only out of this challange. "Get the vehicle here by any means nessassary". these words were heard by the base's commander as he passed by and were not deniable. long story short, kane did indeed get the vehicle ontop of the building. he nocked over three water towers, caused irrepareable damage to the roof of the vehicle bay, created a new dinner balcony of the headquarters building, and shredded the edge of the base's walls where only infantry were supposed to patroll. so in the end yes kane got the vehicle ontop of the building just outside the bases's walls, no, the commissar was not happy about this. the hellhound was promptly air lifted off of the building as the commissar was not about to tell kane to now get the vehicle down. 

kane drove his hellhound for many years, waging war on just about everything the imperium didn't like, it would be easier to say he didn't wage war against cute kittens and puppies than list the many things he was told to crush under his treads. kane received multiple honors for his performance as a driver and crew member of the hellhound, his service record was exemplary in that... however things always seem to go wrong in the imperium. 

after being deployed on a hive world, kane and his commissar found themselves in the thick of it after being dispached to releave a captain and his squat of storm troopers. the storm troopers were pinned down deep in the city's sewer system and were barely holding on. kane was instructed to make his way by command to their location and provide aid, at this point it was not known that the storm troopers were inside the sewer system, it was only known that they were in the high quarter. kane promptly drove his tank through the front doors of a hive world shopping center, down more flights of stairs than his commissar wanted to think about or remember, and through a decapitated barrier for the old transit system that was no longer in use. after driving through the transit's tunnels for a while, kane and his tank forcefully entered the sewer system after frantic instructions by a confused navigator in the storm trooper squad. the storm troopers were releaved and frightened at the same time to see the hellhound driving up behind them in the sewer tunnels, releaved because that was armored support carrying a massive flame thrower, terrified because that was a tank in a tunnel with no logical way to get there. kane received a copper skull honor for this rescue as the storm troopers were escorting several nobles to safety. 

One relic from a past life: Mk4 Las lighter. commonly used to light lho sticks and cigars.... or in kane's case, really anything he can get his bored hands on. the MK 4 is essentially four class 4 short range lasers angled in a way to have the beams cross at a cirtian distance. at that distance, the lighter is like any other lighter powered by flame, and is quite capable of igniting lho sticks, or any other menial object that needs to be lit ablaze like kindling or anything else. 

Reason for induction into the penal legion: Kane is responsible for the brutal murder of a captain and his lieutenant after a series of incidents which resulted in the destruction and near total loss of 87th armored regiment gamma company. a lieutenant and his captain seized control of the company and led them into a bad situation gone worse. the two men led the company into a kill zone during the middle of an artillery bombardment in an attempt to gain ground when the enemy wold not expect it. while they did indeed gain the ground and secure it, the resulting losses from the enemy heavy weapons emplacements and stationary guns, not to mention the losses from friendly fire reached as high as 87% of the company. kane survived by pure luck, the transport truck to his front wasn't so lucky, a earth shaker round smacked right through the driver side cabbin rendering the entire vehicle to meaty shrapnel, and the russ behind him took a shatterer round to the turret and a crater maker round to the hole where the turret used to be. two months after gamma was dissolved and absorbed into other companies, kane discovers the two men who had since been promoted form the incident and leads them to the vehicle bay and proceeds to brutal murder them behind locked doors. the lieutenant had his legs blown off by a shotgun blast and was then smashed into the ceiling by a hydrolic lifter used to lift heavy tanks upwards. cleaning crews had to spend two entire weeks scrubbing the ceiling of the vehicle bay to remove the corpse of the man. the captain was not so lucky. knocked unconscious by a surprise attack by kane, the captain had two industrial hooks plunged into his shoulders, and was slowly lowered into a siege grinder's rotating teeth while he was still alive and fully aware of what was going on. 

upon arrival of the commissars, kane declared that the two he had just killed were heretics and were trying to weaken the guard so they could not take the planet back. rather than execute him on the spot, the overseeing commissar sentenced him to a penial legion in remembrance of his service, using it as a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the emperor. 

Reaction to induction: consuming and burning rage tempered by the ability to take out said anger on anything the legion points him at. to say he's angry is an understatement, not angry at the imperium, angry at the commissar who killed his brothers in battle. he understands that murder is murder and he should be dead, however he is grateful for the chance to redeam himself in the eyes of the emperor. he also sees it as a chance to have a lot of unrestricted fun in a sense given he's expected to die anyway

Specialist skill: one of the best drivers this side of the sub sector, Kane is a preverbial savant behind the controlls of a vehicle. he's competent in many different vehicles, though it's advised to never let him fly anything. 

Relationships with other characters: none


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## Signatus (Nov 21, 2012)

Speaking of low post count... Maelstrom and I are friends outside of the forums, and he recruited me to RP. I haven't RPed in a few years, but I've done it on and off the past 10. 

For my character, I was thinking we need a scout. Small, skulky, etc.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

As deathbringer said mate, we are always looking for new talented blood in the RP sections. Toss up a character and throw your name into the hat so to speak. I look forward to reading what you come up with. So far we have some big bruttish guys and I agree that every 'prison' has that small, skulky guy. Go for it!


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

just as a quick note, delighted to see the interest is building, absolutely fantastic

Amazing quality of sheets thus far, really have knocked me for six from my quicks skims, makes it look like i will have an easy time with my critiques 

Really happy to see this  any more sheets get them up as soon as you can

edit: scratch that, plans have fallen through so i will indeed be looking at sheets and pm's tonight


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Name: Vladimir Alanski

Age: 25

Appearance: Short, skinny runt of a man, Vlad stands at an unremarkable 5ft4 (1.6M) His pinched faced would be somewhat handsome if it wasnt constantly torn in a sneer. His shoulder length greasy black hair covers a small forehead under which peer a pair of beady little grey eyes. Many mistake his size for weakness, but most have learned to steer clear of the short angry man who fights like an enraged grox, and has the strength to back it up. Lir many Vostroyans he has facial hair, but only on his chin in the form of a short sharp goatee. The rest of his face he keeps shaved.

Quirk: If he even thinks anyone is judging him for his size, Vladimir will snap and violence usually follows.

Background: Life on Vostroya was rough even by their standards for Vlad. Having a rather normal upbringing, he was tormented by bullies from a young age, and hates them all even to this day. Being firstborn he was to be inducted into the Vostroyan fighting 8th, and this event is something that he will forever hate his parents for. Life in the guard was hell for Vladimir, all of the others constantly making fun of him for his size and pushing him around. Many beatings followed, and vlad was not always on the giving end of them. The only saving grace for Vlad was his accuracy with a long-las. On routine patrol after a severely nasty battle with some orks ( having been on the same planet fighting the same orks for 3 years) he discovered a looting gretchin roughly 1000 yards from his position. Sighting in with his sniper rifle, he aimed for the head and fired. One thing he did not account for was the drop, as he was stuck with the autocannon variant of his beloved long las, so the round fell and effectively castrated the gretchin. The men were ecstatic, and Vladimir neglected to tell them that he was trying to kill the thing, not its love life and played the part. After discovering that he could take the reproductive organ off a gretchin at 1000 yards ( a fact still talked about in the fighting 8th) many of the men started treating him better, knowing that their lives cold depend on him covering them. Vlad didn't care, and that was when he decided it was time to get out of the Guard.

Reason for Induction: The battlegroup his unit was attached to dropped from the warp, stopping at the Saben system to resupply before moving to the next battlefield, when Vladimir made his move. Slipping out of the barracks, he crept through the ship, the halls all but empty due to it being the night cycle. Arriving in the shuttle bay, he realized his problem. He had no idea how to fly a shuttle. Improvising, he snuck into the back of a lifter and put his blade to the pilots throat. Little did Vlad know the pilot was a former cage fighter on a hive world, and he was in for a fight. Crashing back from the elbow that smashed into his face, he drew his laspistol and shot the pilot through the head.

Running from the ship, Vlad fled back to the barracks hoping to bide his time and find another way out. Unfortunately for him several navy ratings saw him fleeing the scene, and were easily able to identify him due to his size. The investigation that followed was cut and dry, and Vlad was convicted of murder, treason, and cowardice. He was sentenced to summary execution, until one of the higher ups deemed his skill with a long las could be of service to the Emperor and the penal planet Saben was close enough by to warrant a stop. Little did the commisarriat know, this was not the first time he had killed one of his fellow guardsmen. Several of the men who tormented him met unfortunate ends on the battlefield as Vlads vengeful nature got the best of him. Needless to say he was never caught until now, had the commisars known his true nature his brains would of decorated a wall.

Reaction to induction: Vlad refuses to believe that he is going to spend the rest of his life fighting, and plans on escaping the first chance he gets. He does not regret what he did, as the pilot he killed would have lived had he simply flown the damn shuttle. 

Specialist skill: Accuracy. Vlad is an artist with a rifle, able to take down targets at the most extreme distances. Aside from that, he is a very competent brewer of alcohol, always finding a way to make some form of his native Rahzvod on the battlefield.

Relic from past life: On vostroya, the first born are told to go out and mate the night before they ship out, giving their seed back to their home to make more sons before they leave. The woman vlad lay with gave him a picture of herself before he deployed, and he still holds onto it, the reason being that she is the only person he truly believes loved him.

Relationship to other characters: Vlad is open to friendships as long as they share the same goal of escape. He has no care for the Emperors forgiveness, and does not keep the company of those that do either.


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## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

Name: Julian Rhodes

Age: 37

Appearance: Julian is short and stocky. He stands at just over 5’9 and his build is big, his wide girth is down to his lack of physical exertion compared to the soldiers serving beside him. His shocking mass of black hair frames his smiling face and sparkling blue eyes that, while looking friendly, have a strange look that suggests they have seen more than their fair share of death and despair. His jaw is square with rough stubble growing on it. His nose is solid and upon it rests a pair of glasses, their lenses cracked and the arms bent.

Julian can never be found without his simple apron, constantly stained with blood, rarely his own. He carries a small pack with him that carries all that the Legion will provide him to treat the wounded.

Quirk: Julian is more than a little crazy. Soldiers reckon that his years of being around death have ‘loosened his screws’. At times he has been known to completely zone out and just sit, staring into space, thinking of things no-one else knows. But most of the time he just seems overly friendly, occasionally talking to himself but who doesn't right? However those who are around him for a long time may begin to realize he has seemingly two personalities. 

Background: Julian was born on a backwater world that no-one cared about. He lived out a dull existence. His parents expected little so he gave little for them to be proud of. His life looked like it was going in the direction of all the others, in a downward spiral. 

However Julian’s moment came when he stumbled upon the doctor that treated the populace of the village. The doctor had fallen badly and his leg was broken. The doctor called out to the young Julian and warily he came over.

The doctor instructed Julian carefully what to do and, upon seeing the boy’s work, invited him to become a apprentice of his. Not seeing anything else to do with his life Julian walked out on his parents and became the doctor’s apprentice. He learnt all he could from the doctor and the doctor taught all he knew, amazed by the boy’s seemingly endless thirst for knowledge.

But Julian was not destined to become a simple doctor. For war descended upon his world. Vast hordes of the enemy swept across the plains before any resistance could be raised. Soon there were only tiny pockets of resistance, small villages that were guarded by the men of the land, armed with ancient lasguns and rusting tanks.

Julian’s aged master was called into service, to be the village’s medic, on the front line. Julian refused to watch his master die a needless death from enemy fire and so, after drugging his master into a deep sleep, gathered his master’s equipment and set out for the front line.

There he saw blood, gore, death, despair and everything bad about the human race. He bandaged gaping wounds under heavy shell fire; he administered painkillers while the enemy was only metres away. Somehow the young boy survived. And somehow so too did the village.

Julian returned to his master’s house to find that nothing remained. At some point during the fierce fighting a shell had levelled the simple house to the ground, leaving nothing but rubble. Tears filling his eyes the young Julian ran into the rubble. Falling to his knees amongst the rock he lowered his head, only to feel the cool barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head. A rasping voice demanded him to raise put his hands on his head. Julian was slowly rising when the barrel was gone. Hearing a thud behind him Julian turned to see a tall man, dressed in the uniform of the enemy, lying face down in the dirt, a gun in his hand. Blood was flowing freely from the clean wound in the man’s back. Julian searched for his saviour but could find no-one. 

Angels of Death fell from the heavens and wiped the planet clean of the enemy. And then, as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone, leaving the crippled population of the planet to rebuild their planet and salvage what was left of their old lives.

For a few years Julian stayed on the planet, helping to rebuild as much as he could. But soon the sheer boredom set in. Julian missed the adrenaline. He missed knowing that you could be struck down at any moment. He missed war. And so the next day, with the knowledge that a ship was passing nearby, carrying a Penal Legion, Julian walked up behind the mayor of the village, pulled a scalpel from his pocket and drove it into the man’s shoulders.

Julian knew the man would live but from the amount of blood you would think the man had died twice over. Julian was seized and carried away. But before he could be dragged to prison he stopped the guards and returned to the man, guns following his every move. Julian bent over and squeezed the wound. Almost immediately the bleeding ceased. Julian, content his vows were upheld, then turned and requested he was made a member of the Penal Legion. 

Ever since that day Julian has served as a medic for his Penal Legion. He has fought on worlds he could never have imagined and saved soldiers whose names will go down in legend. But above all he has got the thrill back. The near-death experiences that fuel his life.

Finding himself enveloped into the 21st he travelled with them when they and the Guard Regiment they were attached to were sent to help shore up defences of a backwater world of Yetrick near Saben. The Dark Eldar had begun to raid this world after large ore deposits were discovered just below the planet’s surface. This was Julian’s first taste for action, real brutal action. Without the medical supplies he had had during the battle upon his homeworld he made do with nothing but an old knife and a laspistol. He fused bone and sealed flesh, all while the Dark Eldar fought around him.

His second campaign, took place a world that he can no longer remember the name of, but it was against a rebel human faction that was intent on overthrowing the imperial government. During this war Julian was lost and presumed dead after disappearing as part of a rearguard action. He was found three days later, whispering to himself and rocking backwards and forwards the doctors feared him crazy. And perhaps they were right, but Julian would not show it. It was only a few hours after him begin found that he returned to his role as medic. What was left of the 21st Penal Legion was folded into the newly forming 23rd. 

One relic from a past life: Julian always carries an empty photo frame. He holds it with him in the hope that one day, the man that saved his life will appear to him and he can place that man’s face in the frame.

Reason for induction into the penal legion: Julian was at a dead end. He saw no option but to end his life. Unfortunately for him, when he swore to save the Emperor’s citizens he also swore to never take a life, even his own. So he joined the Penal Legion, so that someone else can do it for him.

Reaction to induction: Julian strives to see the universe before his life draws to a close. He works through his daily existence like each day could be his last because, it could. 

Specialist skill: Somewhat renowned on his home planet for his skills with the scalpel Julian is a fine medic and has taken up that role in the Penal Legion.

Relationships with other characters: Any takers?

Wargear: A large knife, Bandages, a pair of long-range magnoculars (mostly used for spotting injured troopers), an old service-issue laspistol


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Nice... I'm envisioning some pretty good dialogue with these characters. A surly sniper, an insane medic, and a pyro tank driver. 

Deathbringer, do you think you can list these characters on page 1 for reference? I'm getting twisted up already and we only have like 7 RPers. Also, do you foresee vehicles coming up in this RP at all? I notice both me and DasOmen have listed our characters as vehicle operators. If we're getting in a Chimera at some point I can always make my character a gunner instead, deferring to DasOmen's post count. If vehicles aren't coming up though, I'd rather find some other applicable skill to list.


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

Name: Mitijia Melansek

Age: 26

Appearance: Mitijia only stands at 5'5" with a lean 90 pounds on him. His face has something inside that draws you to him, neither ugly from fighting nor malformed, neither is he handsome but eyes are still drawn when he stops his constant moving for a few seconds before starting again his hair a cropped black with soft brown eyes that hold an inner laughter in them at all times even when being physically assaulted by other Legionnaires.

Quirk: Mitijia is constantly moving seemingly unable to sit still for any length of time at the very least twitching his fingers at attention and moving his legs when sitting.

Background: Mitijia grew up on the Agri world of Parnak with his family. Living there he was he was taught by his father how to grow crops in nearly depleted land and coax life out of nothing. Reaching the age of enlistment and being unable to just serve on the farm watching his own children live in such misery as most of their income went on keeping the house and a roof over their heads he ran away and joined the PDF where he learned the basics of combat and discipline. Even there he seemed to attract the wrong sort of people as he always seemed to have something to barter or trade with as he kept everything he could.

Making himself known as someone who could get you what you want for a price Mitijia used his appearance to "collect" things from his squad mates and superior's that had value as trade items. When the PDF mobilized to fight the uprising's Mitijia was discovered with several bottles of Amasec that had disappeared from the Commissar’s quarters, a box of cigars from the Commandant's office and various uniforms that had allowed Mitijia access to those places among other areas he wasn't supposed to be as others in the squad distracted the guards or otherwise looked the other way. After being accused of theft Mitijia expected to be executed but was instead sat in a cell while the Commissar reviewed his case. 

While under review the Commissar was sent a message by the Saben 21st who itself was on its way to replenish loses. Quickly seizing the initiative the Commissar transferred all the criminals under his authority to the 21st including Mitijia. Quickly putting his talents to use after being savagely beaten for moving around so much Mitijia slowly recognized how to deal with those who were his new comrades. Procuring some equipment for protection they had instead beaten him and took most of what he had gathered for themselves. After they had met up with the rest of the Legion he was shocked at the wounds some still sported and the anger in some of the eyes. Looking on as some of them they targeted those who crossed them and were savagely beaten scared Mitijia.

Of course this meant Mitijia as well but he noticed that one hulking bear of a man was treated with a lot of respect (or was it fear? Mitjia was never sure) named Xandar, who he traded his services for protection from some of the assholes that populate a Penal Legion. Though he has sometimes failed to procure items that are very hard to obtain for him he rarely gets attacked or tricked by others mainly due to Xandar.

Specialist Skill: _"Procurement"_ is the one and only skill he seems to have as he hoards and trades like no other. Mitijia will often acquire whatever he needs to using others as distractions, who are offered recompense which is always delivered, skulking around to get it then disappearing back to his usual haunts.

Relic: An old rifle casing he kept from the range when he first hit his target during basic.

Reason for induction to Penal Legion: Was caught with several items that had gone missing when his Company had mobilized to fight the growing rebellions in the next system over. Imprisoned by the Commissar of his unit Mitijia awaited his fate as his case was under review when word was sent the Saben 21st were passing through the system and was transferred to get him out of there.
Reaction to induction: Scared bewilderment as what he did was normal for him and his family on Parnak as everyone hoards and keeps things from the Lords taxman. Seeing others in the same situation confuses him as he feels no guilt about his actions. He mainly fights to just survive long enough to gain his freedom and go back to what he knew before despite the fact he ran from it in the first place.

Relationships with other characters: Mitijia has stopped trying to be friendly with others as he has always come out on the bottom. This has not stopped him from approaching Xandar Tackett to trade service for protection.

Wargear: Lasgun that he barely knows how to shoot, combat knife that he routinely misplaces, guard flak armour that actually fits his body and loose fitting Guard Khaki.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

dude no worries about my post count. dont let that give some false representation of how good i actually am or anything like that, i'm sure our form mod here who may or may not still be monitoring this thread will say, if you look back on some of my posts here, they're actually quite shit. so yeah, post count, just like surveys at a grocery store or a fast food joint, or a call center, is not an decent measurement of actual skill or competence.


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Haha all good man. Don't downplay yourself; I actually like your character a lot. I noticed you built driving into Kane's bio, and I'd rather not take that away from you. I can find some other way to make Weaver useful.


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

I can see some interesting interaction between our characters is going to happen high seraph, the main reason being mine loves to brew rahzvod!:laugh:


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

That is only if DB accepts Mitijia of course.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Okay, I got nothing done last night, apologies, tonight should get some more pm's out but it is a friends leaving drinks so lets see what state I'm in after that, might not go, feeling tired. If so I will be sending pms and writing the action thread beginning

I will be updating the original post when i begin accepting charactors which will be monday. So could everyone who has registered interest or suspiciously lurked and feels like joining try and have there charactors up by monday.

I'm off from work so I'll be able to pm any, and there dont seem to be many from what I've seen, changes to you guys and then obviously get this started hopefully tuesday

Just to give a rough idea of the head count and so I know what I'm doing:

So we have our 6 charactors thus far

Midge913: Charactor submitted 
Maelstrom48: Charactor submitted
Dasomen: Charactor submitted
Angel Encarmine: Charactor submitted (edit's look great but ill give it another skim a little later but looks mint to me)
Romero's Own: Charactor Submitted (delighted you decided to join despite the mamoth project you've just undertaken)
High_Seraph: Charactor Submitted (good to see your keeping safe mate, not seen you in a while lad, glad my last dalliance into gm dom wasn't enough to keep you away)

Jamob: Awaiting charactor
Lord Ramo: Awaiting charactor
Hogglord: Awaiting charactor
Signatus:Awaiting skulky charactor

Unxpekted22: Friendly lurker 

I've also had two others register interest in passing though we shall see if that comes to fruition me may hit the maximum of 12 which is great (pushing it) but absolutely fantastic

so excited about this
get them up guys


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Ooohh right ill post that. I had it done like 2 days ago, but then thanksgiving happened...
This is the finished one.

*Name:* Lucius Vermillion

*Age:* 19

*Appearance:* He has piercing blue eyes that seem to stare into the depths of your soul. It is said that the eyes tell all - this is a philosophy he ascribes to and it is also true about him. When he is angry, his eyes seem to be on fire - though the rest of his body may show nothing - and when sad, or depressed, they soften. If you want to know him, just stare into his eyes.

He has shaggy brown hair that looks as if it hasn’t been washed in months (probably because it hasn’t), and an impeccable smile. He is around 6" tall and strongly built - if not for his constants smiling, he would be a very intimidating person. Even with it, few would want to mess with him, especially if they see him fight - He's not particularly skilled, but he never stops smiling. This disarms less experienced foes better than any knife could.

*Quirk:* He is almost always smiling, unless something horrible is happening. It's very disarming to witness, especially in a fight - having his cold, cruel smile staring straight at you would send a chill through even the most experienced of soldiers.

If Lucius isn't smiling, those around him had better take heed - something is about to go wrong.

*Background:* He was born to nobility on the airless hive world Umayyad, home of the Astral Hunters (self made chapter, name still being decided, paintscheme avatar). His father was the head of a large district, and was famous for having destroyed a cult of tzeentch starting on the planet without help from the Astartes, using only his own men and a free-lance detective Michael Straube. He was a former Commissar in the royal navy, and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.

Lucius was planning to join the military, but before he left for the recruiters he saw his girlfriend one last time. He used his spare key to enter her house and went up to her room, finding her dead on the ground. Her body was mutilated almost beyond recognition, and she had obviously been brutally raped and tortured before her eventual death. He fell to the ground sobbing, and reached out to her and plucked the necklace he had given her for her birthday. It was a pendant with both their initials encircled upon a winged heart (he had ordered it specially made).

He was leaving the room when the local police force came rushing into the house. They saw him and subdued him, and he blacked out. He returned to consciousness in a dark room where they attempted to make him confess. He refused, using the image of her body as a reason to hold out - the real killer had to be brought to justice.

Numerous people testified against him, against his character and that he had indeed been in the house long enough to commit the murder. One man in particular caught his eye, an evil looking man with an eyepatch who wore a deadly looking knife at his side. The man claimed to have been his deceased lover's mandolin instructor, but Lucius knew this was false because he had been the one teaching her. The man said that she had told him of her fears that Lucius would snap before leaving, and that she was terrified. Instantly, Lucius knew he had to avenge his love. He waited, and the sentence was ordered. There was no direct proof, but there was enough circumstantial evidence to sentence him to a life in prison. Lucius knew this was perfect, he would find a way to end his antagonist.

He was sixteen then. He stayed in jail for two years, biding his time and becoming stronger. Finally he found a way to escape, and he used a shiv he had crafted to take down a guard and then hid the body. He spent months searching for the murderer of his love, and finally found that bastard.

He was a mandolin teacher, and had taught Lucius' father. That is where he found the man, sitting with his father instructing him. Lucius stared in disbelief, and hesitated, debating killing the man with his father there. His father, however, had no such restraints, and pulled a lasgun off the wall and open fired. Lucius ducked under the table and returned fire, hitting his father's legs and then got up and finished him with a single shot to the head, tears running down his face. His father had never looked so proud.

He chased after the escaping murderer, not realizing that he himself fit the category, smiling to himself as he felt the distance closing. He gunned down the man, but didn’t kill him, only crippling him. He looked into his adversary's eyes and gouged his eyes out slowly, cutting him in multiple places and smiling grimly. He finally ended the monster, his work completed. He returned to the house, and picked up his father's mandolin. He hugged it to himself closely, crying and laughing at the same time. He stayed there for hours, and was eventually found by the authorities. He didn't resist, allowing himself to be taken - his work was finished.

They put him on trial, this time easily linking him to the two murders he committed, with his own confession. However, they admired his courage and daring, and so offered him another choice other than death - a chance to serve in the Penal legions of the Imperial guard. He accepted, but didn’t get what he bargained for...

*One relic from a past life:* Lucius was able to keep his fathers mandolin after expressing his mastery of it. Apparently the Commissar who recruited him had a thing for music… Then something about moral… or something… All he knows is that he will stay sane, and he may well survive.

*Reason for induction into the penal legion:* The murder of his father and lover's killer. He hunted the murderer down ruthlessly, and was forced to kill his father as well - this both impressed the court and required a death sentence, so they took the alternative and gave him a change to serve.

*Reaction to induction:* He was excited at the prospect of not dying. Still though… He's not particularly happy about being trapped in the military equivalent to hell for the rest of his life. While he kind of repents his actions, he also wants out - the two will most likely conflict often...

*Specialist skill:* He is an expert Mandolin player, and is able to put many animals and beasts to rest using it, as well as calm the nerves of other people. It is how he relaxes, and though he plays it constantly, his ever-changing harmonies ranging from melodic to downright harsh never get tiring to listen to. He is rarely asked to stop (and when he does he ignores it), but rather to play only a specific type of music. This often ends in his stopping, because he gets bored after a while but does not wish to aggravate others unnecessarily.

Relationships with other characters: none as of yet, but he is fairly open to making friends… as long as they don’t mess with his mandolin.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Will have a post up saturday evening mate.


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

If you recognize some things DB, I am bringing back a few traits from an old character I liked but didnt really get to use. For all intents and purposes he is completely different from before though. Also my imagination seems rather stunted at the moment but I want to get this up tonight, so I leave it up to you to determine the quality.

*Name:* Thavian Rivette

*Age:* 32

*Appearance*: Thavian has well toned muscle and incredible endurance. Just over six feet with a hardened face, gritty cheeks, buzz cut light-brown hair, brown eyes, a flat forehead, smooth chin, and stubble facial hair with a couple of scar patches that have stunted the growth of hair beneath them. The faint remnants of freckles that were more apparent when he was a child cover his nose and the unscarred portions of his upper cheeks beneath the eyes.

*Quirk:* Talks to himself, and to others he has met and talked to before even if they aren't actually there.

*Background*: Thavian was born and raised on a world in a neighboring system to Aridon. His homeworld, Ridion, has been scarcely scarred, for only a few acts of war have struck into it over the millenia. Ridion's populace is a clean one, with little crime and a proud and strong faith to the Emperor of Mankind. Its tithes are given with pleasure, and its housing comfortable having stayed away from hive construction as much as possible. Fortunately for Ridion, it is a medium grade tithe world, and not a heavy one. Otherwise it would likely be blemished with as many spires as any Hive world has in the Imperium's galactic radius. 

Thavian was born with genetic flaws, though, affecting his ability to fit into the stout society. A few family members apparently had similar symptoms in the past but none nearly as bad. These flaws are all psychological, as his physical genetics are in great condition. With an inability to control himself from speaking his thoughts more often than not, and speaking to people not actually around him he was quickly made an outcast. His family wasn't sure how to fix the problem and any attempts failed, but it was enough to make him aware of his flaws and attempt to curb them. He still tries to stop his habits to this day. However, as he ages other bonds in his already weak mind have began to break and his ticks have become physical as well such as throwing random fits, which are sometimes rather violent and directed at those trying to help him, clearly confused as to what their intentions are.

He got very good at running. He was free when he ran, and would go long distances so his talking wouldn't bother people. Eventually he began building muscle as well. Working his muscles was the only thing in his life he hadnt lost control of by his early twenties.

Despite his efforts, the people around him couldn't see past their beliefs and fears. Thavian was different and rumors of something other than genetic flaws began to spread. Some thought it was a cover up for something worse, even members of his own family started to believe these things. With Thavian babbling to people next to him that no one else could see, the Emperor stricken populace believed him heretical more and more. He must have been a witch, or perhaps possessed by something.

To his neighbors, and to the local arbites, Thavian's behavior became an illegal sort. He never actually committed any other crimes, though. A decision was made to send him off to the nearest penal legion. The people in his community felt a weight lift off their shoulders when he was shipped away with the few other criminals of Ridion that year. They felt they could sigh in relief, not having to feel bad about their decision. They had gotten rid of Thavian, but in a good way. He was with criminals where he belonged but could fight for their beloved Emperor at the same time, which he was deemed still worthy of since the only crime he had actually committed by the time of his departure was being born.

He has been with the Saben Penitentiary since early in its formation, that being around five months. He has completed all initial training regiments and has recently been assigned to a newly forming squad. He has ye tto see true battle. He has received several marks and scars because of his flaws getting him into trouble and fights. None of his scars are anything major, and most are from the first few months when no one knew he had mental issues. During his training he has so far proven to be an extremely solid soldier, for a penal legionnaire at least, and many other legionnaires came to an understanding about him, though certainly far from all. He's not huge, hes not small, and he's no long-time veteran. He's not a specialist, nor a genius of any kind, but his peers have found that when put against multiple enemies he can be one beast of a trooper, a natural. Because he cant control his thoughts or mouth, his brain diverts the focus gained from a lifetime of anger 100% to his body's movements in the heat of battle making his reactions and precision dead on point. 

*Relic*: A beautiful stone he found while running one day.

*Induction*: Once he stopped getting in fights so often, he actually came to like it better than Ridion. Everyone else in the penal legion was a freak too....

*Specialist Skill:* He's a fantastic runner, and in battle his reaction times and precision shots are nothing to mess with. He's no sniper by any means, but a good shot in firefights.

*Relations to others*: He has a hard time communicating, but if anyone is looking to be around someone who's not actually such a bad guy, he's one to go to.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Well we have 8 submitted charactors, which is fantastic, so glad to have this interest as i really do have a lot of ideas rattling around for this one, really cant wait to get this going

Sorry for the delay on the feedback, last night escalated quickly


Midge913: Charactor submitted 
Maelstrom48: Charactor submitted
Dasomen: Charactor submitted
Angel Encarmine: Charactor submitted 
Romero's Own: Charactor Submitted 
High_Seraph: Charactor Submitted 
Unxpekted22: Charactor Submitted
Jamob:Charactor submitted

Lord Ramo: Awaiting charactor
Hogglord: Awaiting charactor
Signatus:Awaiting skulky charactor


Charactors by monday if possible people, will be officially accepting then  some great submissions


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Looks like a brilliant roleplay. 

I won't join right now - Because, even though I have a character in mind - I'm not exactly confident in my posting times.

If a space opens up, pop me a pm. k:


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

I recognize the parts of that one from your storm trooper in the patchwork company... awesomeness Unxpekted


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## Angel of Blood (Aug 18, 2010)

Too big to fit in a PM apprently. But here we go, let me know if owt needs changing mate.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: Samuel DiStefano

Age: 27

Appearance: Standing at just under six feet and at around a hundred and eighty pounds, DiStefano, cuts a wiry and lean profile, sculpted from a lifetime of training and duty. He has a diamond shaped face and prominently high cheek bones, with the violet irises often seen in Cadians standing out against his pale complexion. His hair would be a light shade of brown, tousled and unruly, leading to it being shaved down all over to ensure a tidy and disciplined appearance. Hs the numbers three seven three tattooed on the underside of his left forearm in the style of a stencil.

Quirk: An ex-smoker but a creature of habit, DiStefano, often carries a packet of smokes with him yet never actually smokes any, instead going through the motions all the way to the point of getting a lighter out, before putting everything away again.

Background: Born on the fortress world of Cadia, the choice of what DiStefano, wanted to do with his life was largely out of his hands. Like all children of the gate world, he intimately knew the workings of a lasgun before he knew how to do basic arithmetic or even read for that matter, though he would discover that he was fairly skilled in the former once actually taught how to. As soon as he was of age, he was inducted into the youth army of his Kasr, and from there into his first Whiteshield platoon as the vast majority of the worlds population are. Whilst by no means unskilled, he remained the 'grey man' through training, neither excelling in any particular area, nor failing in others. 

As his platoon entered the later stages of their training, they were assigned to the three-hundredth and seventy-third shock trooper regiment or the 'three-seventy-third' to complete the final phase of their training alongside an actual frontline unit. Designated as the his squads signaller and given training on how to use a basic vox-caster, a role in which he rapidly became more than capable in. He first saw combat on the agri-world of Caxton VII, the three-seventy-third having been tasked there to combat a heretic insurrection that was taking place on the world. He didn't balk in his duty to the God-Emperor and killed his first man without hesitation or remorse, fighting proudly as a dedicated servant of mankind and as one of the most famed armies in the galaxy. 

After the pacification of Caxton VII, a long and arduous campaign, his Whiteshield platoon was inducted into the regiment proper, joining the ranks as fully trained shock troopers. It was then that he had the stencilled image of the three-seventy-third ritually tattooed onto his left fore arm. He was then assigned to the command element of his new platoon to act as his new lieutenants signaller, a role now vacant after the last battle of the campaign. 

Over the next decade or so, he fought in numerous campaigns across the Segmentum Obscurus, though mostly within the Calixis sector. Over this time his skills a vox-operator had ever increased, with him now fulfilling the role of the command post signaller of his company, a role that was highly respected and came with the privileges of often being in the presence of high ranking officers. It was on the frontier world of Tygress II within the Drusus Marches sub-sector that the incident responsible for his assignment to the penal legions occurred. Imperial Forces had been sent to the Tygress system to answer a distress call after a space hulk containing a minor force of Orks appeared in the system. 

The fighting on Tygress II was as tough as any DiStefano had seen in his colourful service, as only fights with Orks ever are. During a pitched battle four months into the campaign, the companies of the three-seventy-third were under the real prospect of being overrun by a tide of green skins who had unexpectedly descended upon them. DiStefano was given the order to declare a broken arrow and re-task all available air assets to their location in an attempt to repel the horde and return the initiative to the Imperial forces. The first waves he called in caused devastating casualties to the Orks, as Lightning fighters strafed the ground and heavier marauder bombers carpet bombed the green skin lines. As the enemy faltered, one of the right most companies surged forwards to take advantage of the weakening flanks of the enemy. DiStefano continued to call in airstrikes as they pressed forwards, but then to his horror, he saw a pair of Thunderbolt bombers roared in on an attack vector that would bring the flanking company directly in the path of their bombs. 

For the first time in his career, DiStefano froze, unable to do anything to stop the bombers as they unleashed a stream of death from above. The screams of the dying men blared out of the vox along with cries of outrage and confusion. In a state of shock, he couldn't even begin to form a word, let alone continue to press the air strikes onwards with more targets, even as his commander bellowed at him to snap out of it and continue the fight. He still couldn't move. With another vox-operator taking over the strikes and the arrival of reinforcements, the orks retreated from the battle. Responsible for the death of thirty-seven men and so called cowardice afterwards, he was stripped of all rank and insignia and sentenced to live out the rest of his service to the God-Emperor of mankind in the Saben Penitentary 23rd Deceased.

Reason for induction: Causing the deaths of thirty-seven men in an airstrike and for cowardice.

Reaction to induction: DiStefano finds it hard to adapt to the warfare style and organisation of the 23rd deceased, having been used to the rigid structure and discipline of the Cadian Shock Troopers and the utter professionalism and skill of his once brothers in arms. Often prays to the Emperor for forgiveness and that he safeguard the immortal souls of the men he killed. Doesn't tell anyone the real reason for his sentencing to the penal legions, instead claiming he was dismissed after having been caught for the more minor crime of stealing rations for himself.

Relic: 'The List'. Carries a rolled up and waterproofed list with the names of the men killed in the fateful airstrike, which he reads over in his head constantly, determined to remember all the names of the men on there off by heart. 

Specialist Skill: Vox-operator. Highly skilled with a vox-caster and able to jury-rig efficient communications off any comms system he should find. Though he hides the skill set away from others, lest they pry further and discover his real reason for joining them.

Relationship with other characters: Whilst he is by no means aloof or arrogant, DiStefano privately holds many of the other men within the unit with a hint of disdain and distaste. In his eyes, no one can replace the Cadian brotherhood he once shared, nor can any other unit share the effectiveness of the shock troopers. Only time will tell if he is right in this assumption.


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

I've tried to post up my character twice but my computer keeps crashing.


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## Signatus (Nov 21, 2012)

Withdrawn due to personal reasons.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Apologies for the delay on critiques but pms including critique have been sent to everyone except signatus as I was too knackered having already sent a fleet and I wouldnt give it a proper look tonight.

Hogglord, if you want to pm your charactor too me instead thats fine or email it, i believe my email if on my profile, i'm happy to look at it and brings us to 12 submissions.

Da: i wont be taking more than 12 and my attempted post turnover will be once every two weeks, so if you dont have the time i completely understand, but if you do want to submit your idea it will be taken into consideration.

Nonetheless though recruitment will close, due to sheer number of charactors, if we get drop outs I will happily replace them

3 charactors have been accepted and updated on the front sheet but alot of those not on there are high quality charactors who are just acquiescing to a few whims of mine that will also be accepted. 

Thank you so much for getting involved, lets get this show on the road. 

Any queries about my comments, slap em right back at me


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

right so i made some changes to my profile per the PM you sent me. thoughts?


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

I'm going to try & get my character up one more time if you're up for having him deathbringer


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

I'll look at him tomorrow das, and signtus, i willl look at both charactors tonight if tomorrow, if not tomorrow night, may be busy.

Hogglord your welcome to post him, if it's a case it wont post I can only advise saving it in a word document so you dont loose your progress?

Either way he is still welcome 

We currently have 7 accepted and 5 sheets to be edited (jamob, ramo, hogglord)

Which is my 12 so I will be officially closing recruitment in the 24 hours, but I dont expect any late dives for the closing door, as I will only be taking 12 and I am bloody delighted with what I have already.

Maelstorm: I did notice a comment about vehicles I hadn't answered, they will be a minor part mainly transporting from one place to another, so i dont mind having two due to the sheer size of the unit


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

Name: Gaius Holden

Age: 28

Appearance: Gaius stands at 6 foot exactly, with a slim athletic build. Whilst he isn’t overly muscled like other convicts in the penal legion he has a very slight and thin build, having to blend in with the majority of convicts that exist in the Penal legion. As he doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself he constantly tries to fit in, not make a scene and be able to survive in jail with killers and murderers.

His eyes are a dark green, a trait that he received from his mother, whilst his hair is straight and blonde just like his father, kept as tidy as he can actually keep it though it is longer than he would like. Whilst it is kept neatly combed, it is not as clean as he would like it either, knowing that if he did clean it then he wouldn’t fit in as well as he does. His face is handsome though he covers it in dirt when he thinks that it looks a bit too clean, once again blending in with the crowd. 

Quirk: When Gaius finds himself in difficult situations, or where he needs to make a choice that he cannot make he leaves it all to chance. With a simple flick of a coin he lets fate decide for him.

Background: Born on the industrial world of Animaris Prime to a family that owned the largest oil fields on the planet Gaius’s life was meant to be perfect. As the eldest of his siblings he would one day inherit the oil fields that supplied the Imperial Guard war effort and live a comfortable life, one far removed from the pain and suffering of others.

His father, Claudius Holden payed for the best and brightest to tutor each of his four children, Gaius, his younger brother and two sisters. Gaius at a young age started to act up, believing that he would be able to do what he liked, his father paying little attention to him as he tried to run an oil Empire, leaving it down to his mother who had her hands full with his siblings. Gaius yearned from freedom from his studies and after each session with his tutors, who reportedly directly to his father and would tell him if he didn’t attend or do well, would head into the streets, disguised cleverly so he would not attract attention to himself. The only thing he loved anywhere as near to the freedom he got when he was out of the household was the occasional trips that his father would take him on to the planet’s moon where they would hunt together, Gaius learning how to become a decent shot.

He was 16 when he first started gambling, years of walking the streets had taught him how to blend in, how to leave his image of a wealthy person behind, even though he lost more than his fair share of money when he was younger as he didn’t learn fast enough. He soon developed a taste for gambling, as well as drinking and women, and was a local at several brothels and back alley pubs. He didn’t manage to keep this entire secret from his father, though every effort to stop Gaius from doing what he wanted met with failure. To begin with when he first started his whoring he would throw his cash around with wanton abandon. Even though to begin with he was followed by thugs who wanted to take his money, he always managed to obey them even though he never ran. He was and still is a lady’s man, being able to get cheaper prices due to his good looks and stamina.

His brother hated his carefree attitude, the fact that Gaius didn’t seem to care about actually running what his father had created, and was worried that if Gaius did get his inheritance then he would ruin everything his father had done, and as a consequence would destroy his own family. After years of pleading with Gaius to change his ways, all of which failed he decided to take more drastic measures. He saw an opportunity to gain control and remove the two obstacles that were in his way, Gaius and his father. Using his brother’s hunting knife he slit his father’s throat in his study and left the knife in Gaius’s room, Gaius being out for the night drinking and whoring.

Gaius managed to stumble home and awoke the next day in his room as the local arbites stormed in, arresting him for murdering his father. At the trial his brother testified against him, saying he had came home drunk and got in an argument with his father, slitting his throat with the hunting knife when his father said if he didn’t change his ways then he wouldn’t run the oil Empire. Gaius was sentenced to a life sentence, and his brother inherited the Empire. While Gaius knew that normally he would have been killed for such an act, he was a learned individual, and intelligent enough to be able to weasel his way out of the death sentence demanded. It was lucky that the magistar was female, and Gaius was able to play on this to get a lighter sentence. Gaius knew he hadn’t killed his father; something which his brother confirmed to him as he had a minute with him before Gaius was taken away, telling him he did it for the family’s sake.

Gaius saw the Penal legion as a way out of the hell that was prison, hating being confined in a cell for any amount of time, and even though he puts his life on the line by doing so, it is much better than dying in prison as a shell of a man. 

Reason for induction: The murder of his father that he did not commit.
Reaction to induction: Gaius hates that he is fighting in some of the worst environments, and with some of the worst equipment and men possible. 

However he believes that there was no choice, and would rather die in an open world, than being shanked or dying inside a cell. He cares not for the Emperors forgiveness as he knows he did nothing wrong, and if the Emperor was a god like others claimed then he would have punished his brother and not him.

Relic: The last remaining relic he has is a coin that his father gave him when he turned 18. While worth nothing it is engraved by his father and is the last remaining thing he has left of his past life, something which he holds onto dearly.

Specialist skill: Whilst he leaves everything down to chance Gaius can blend in with a crowd easily, having had to do it in his previous life so that none of the workers that he hung out with knew he was actually an heir to a vast oil based Empire. He has learnt how to move silently, and has a way with the ladies, though there are few in the Penal legion.

Relationship with other characters: Gaius is generally a friendly guy, though he keeps much of his past hidden. His ultimate goal is to escape one day and either get revenge on his brother or settle down somewhere where he can once again immerse himself into society.


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Sorry I havent updated yet, I wont be able to this weekend either - I have extremely limited internet and am "stranded" in virginia...


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Another person intent on escaping! This should be awesome haha


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

Sorry I couldn't get a character up. If there's a drop out, I may try to take a slot.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

well mate, I believe in the above post he included you in the sheets he was waiting on, so if you have one done I would still throw it in the mix


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

really? Ok, I'll put it up then


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

well in a few posts above, deathbringer listed you as part of the twelve character sheets that he expected to have, prompting him to close recruitment. Of course he will have the final say, but I would say throw it in and see what happens.


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Hey! I have an itch and the only cure is gory sci fi sequences. Let's get this thing started! Let's accept some characters and get this RP started already!


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

Calm down there mate. Db has a life outside Heresy rp. It will be accepted when it is and rushing him wont make things any better.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

indeed, good things come to those that wait


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

Name: Peitor 'Doc' Simmons

Age: 48

Sex: Male

Appearance: Doc has a rough, stubbled face a wide jaw and coarse, scarred features. His face is a mess of grime and scars, though none are altogether too impressive, merely little nicks and scratches. His eyes are a bleak grey. He is stocky, Standing at 5ft 8 with short, dark-grey hair and constantly messy, blood-stained flak jacket and simple, fairly worn combat fatigues. 

Personality: Stoic, Gruff and brutally honest, Peitor isn't always the most confidence-inspiring medical officer, but his medical knowledge and battlefield experience are valuable to his allies. He is often mistaken for having a rather grim personality, but he enjoys humour as much as the next man. He views his duty to be winning battles. He realises that this can only be done by an army of men, no one man can do it alone, so Doc fixes all the soldiers that get wounded, ensuring that the most possible people can keep fighting for as long as possible.
As he once served in the vaunted Cadian shock troops, Doc has never lost his military professionalism from this esteemed guardsman force.

Quirk: Doc is a man who has seen, for want of a better phrase, some serious S***. He's seen an explosive round in someone's heart detonate on a operating table and rip the faces off three medics, he's seen men with Nurgle infection deteriorate and rot before his very eyes. This can cause a few little 'issues' and, as such, when Doc is under stress, he occasionally has 'little ticks', these vary from a twitching eye to even a small spasm of one side of his body, though they are infrequent and only under extreme stress.

Background: Doc was conscripted as a white-shield at the age of fifteen. He was issued a rifle and assigned to the 88th Cadian regiment. His squad was quickly promoted up to full guardsmen for all of them showed initiative and skill, except those who died of course. As a guardsman, Doc first showed his skill in the field of medical action. Under fire from eldar snipers, Doc's sergeant got hit in the chest. Doc dragged him into cover, taking a round to the arm, but ignoring the pain. Once behind cover he pulled out the jagged shuriken to of his arm and used it, with his knife, to dig the jagged shot out of his sergeant's chest. The then bandaged the chest with a torn shred of his tunic and this saved the sergeant's life. Doc made corporal and was issued a medal for his services. After several other impressive medical feats, he was recruited into the Cadian Medical Corps and began his duties with impressive results. He served as a medic for six years, becoming a valued member of his company. He moved from Conscript to company medical officer in a mere five years, an impressive medical record for anyone. He has now spent over thirty years in the guard and is nothing if not a veteran.

One relic from a past life: Medical scanner. This device allows Doc to see the location of bullets, broken bones and shrapnel. It can even detect the extent of tumors, burns and infections. It is a small box, around twelve inches high, eight inches wide and an inch thick. It works when held anywhere within a meter of the wounded individual, though the closer one gets, the more detailed and accurate the analysis.

Reason for induction into the penal legion: Doc's life was perfect, chief medical officer of the 88th cadian under Colonel Grisham. One day that changed. Grisham, a front line officer who was unafraid of shouldering the burden with his men, was shot by a stray lasgun from a rebel guardsmen. He was replaced by Colonel Calder. The man was a tyrant. He never so much as stepped onto a battlefield, sending the company into the thickest and nastiest battles, leaving Doc in technical field command. One time, whilst fighting in a ridge against a rebel armoured company with barely any anti-tank gear. Doc couldn't take it. He ordered a full retreat of the remainder of the company, personally carrying a wounded soldier back to the forward base. When he returned, Calder used his rank and influence to talk down Doc and have him court marshalled. He would have been shot, had his skill as a medic not been so well known. He was subtly diverted to the penal legion in the hope that he could make even the most unsurvivable military forces last a little longer. 

Reaction to induction: Being inducted into the penal legion has had less effect on Doc than most, he simply sees it as another place for him to fight the enemy and keep imperial troops alive.

Specialist skill: As his nickname suggests, Doc's has a great skill as a medic. If someone is injured, provided no vital organs are missing, he can probably fix it.

Notes on gear: Though essentially standard, his combat knife is slightly thinner and sharper, so that it works as a better scalpel.

Relationships with other characters:
P.M. me if you want to have a history with my character.


If I'm too late then I would like to put it up as a reserve character for potential drop outs.


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## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

Oh look, another medic joins the penal legion


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Aloha everybody

*(Recruitment is officially closed as I have my 12 sheets... if we get drop outs i will open again)*

I am officially up to date with all my rps (woop) and have accepted 9 charactors thus far

see the first post, with all names accepted though I'm pretty sure you all know it (plus if you click on the names, the sheets come up which I think should make the whole thing lovely and neat)

Hogglord and especially Signatus, this is totally my bad, I have been shockingly busy with work lately and didnt want to give you a half arsed review, your charactors deserve better and thus I will be reviewing tonight, latest tomorrow morning gmt.

Jam if you could get those updates done asap I'd be really greatful

Can i just say of the other 3 charactors I'm happy with the concept and can see no reason to reject them, its just adding in a few details and tying it all together, so we are on the last stage of dotting the eyes and crossing the t's and if i can, I will have this up by tomorrow night 

So yes we should be scratching that itch very soon.

Thank you all for your patience  
_______________________________________________
As a little tidbit of information though I'm sure it won't stay your hunger

A few little facts about how the Saben Penitentiary 23rd Deceased are organised and how they operate

A little over a thousand strong, the Saben Penitentiary are organised into 5 platoons of roughly a two hundred each which are split into 4 squads of 50, each managed by a penal custodian. They report directly to a Lieutenant.

The Lieutenants report directly to Colonel Erkl Kritz and Major Arnold Bradshaw.

The pair both remain either on board their ship which is officially called "The Emperor's Forgiveness" however is colloquially known as "The Graveyard".

The ship in question is actually owned by the Colonel himself, whose father was one of the owners of a huge plantation on one of the larger agriworlds in the Saben system. Upon his demise the business was sold by Kril, who had already been a Lieutenant in the Saben Penitentary 14th for 3 years and had no interest in returning to tend crops.

Upon his promotion to Colonel of the newly created Saben 21st the regiments deployement was stalled by problems with a shortage of Imperial Navy vessels after a rather destructive campaign with a smaller ork Space Hulk which had pushed into the subsector.

With orders pressing and the Colonel desperate to prove himself he purchased and renamed the ship, which had been taken by the Imperial Navy after it's captain was discovered smuggling huge amounts of Narcotics.

Deamed unsuitable for transformation it was to be scrapped, however upon review by the colonel he offered to purchase the ship at a reasonable price, provided the Imperial Navy provided a crew to staff it. Over the years the Colonel has spent incredible amounts of money upon the ship (though do not be fooled, the colonel rents the ship to the saben penitentary and after costs for damages and a little bonus to an exo account of the chief warden makes a tidy profit and gets to live his dream of waging war across the galaxy).

Over the years it has evolved and upgraded from the small squat little ship it once was, to a small squat little ship that can hold feed and train a penal legion company. Though the shields have been upgraded and the warp drive replaced, the main revelations have been upon the inside, where a false hold allowed the merchant to smuggle huge quantities of illegal substances unknown by customs. This has been switched out and segregated to make use as storage for the new human cargo this ship carries.

Much like its colloquial counterpart, The Graveyard offers no guarantee of a good nights sleep or a comfortable rest....


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Edits - is this good???

Character sheet

*Name:* Lucius Vermillion

*Age:* 19

*Appearance:* He has piercing blue eyes that seem to stare into the depths of your soul. It is said that the eyes tell all - this is a philosophy he ascribes to and it is also true about him. When he is angry, his eyes seem to be on fire - though the rest of his body may show nothing - and when sad, or depressed, they soften. If you want to know him, just stare into his eyes.

He has shaggy brown hair that looks as if it hasn’t been washed in months (probably because it hasn’t), and an impeccable smile. He is around 6" tall and strongly built - if not for his constants smiling, he would be a very intimidating person. Even with it, few would want to mess with him, especially if they see him fight - He's not particularly skilled, but he never stops smiling. This disarms less experienced foes better than any knife could.

*Quirk:* He is almost always smiling, unless something horrible is happening. It's very disarming to witness, especially in a fight - having his cold, cruel smile staring straight at you would send a chill through even the most experienced of soldiers.

If Lucius isn't smiling, those around him had better take heed - something is about to go wrong. Some say that this is a gift, some a curse, and some call for his death - but most do not realize the seeds of precognition visible in his smile.

*Background:* He was born to nobility on the feudal world Maeva, a planet in the domain of the Astral Hunters (self made chapter, name still being decided, paintscheme avatar). His father was the head of a large district, and was famous for having destroyed a cult of tzeentch starting on the planet without help from the Astartes, using only his own men and a free-lance detective Michael Straube. He was a former Colonel in the royal navy, and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps.

Lucius was planning to join the military, but before he left for the recruiters he saw his girlfriend one last time. He used his spare key to enter her house and went up to her room, finding her dead on the ground. Her body was mutilated almost beyond recognition, and she had obviously been brutally raped and tortured before her eventual death. He fell to the ground sobbing, and reached out to her and plucked the necklace he had given her for her birthday. It was a pendant with both their initials encircled upon a winged heart (he had ordered it specially made).

He was leaving the room when the local police force came rushing into the house. They saw him and subdued him, and he blacked out. He returned to consciousness in a dark room where they attempted to make him confess. He refused, using the image of her body as a reason to hold out - the real killer had to be brought to justice.

Numerous people testified against him, against his character and that he had indeed been in the house long enough to commit the murder. One man in particular caught his eye, an evil looking man with an eyepatch who wore a deadly looking knife at his side. The man claimed to have been his deceased lover's mandolin instructor, but Lucius knew this was false because he had been the one teaching her. The man said that she had told him of her fears that Lucius would snap before leaving, and that she was terrified. Instantly, Lucius knew he had to avenge his love. He waited, and the sentence was ordered. There was no direct proof, but there was enough circumstantial evidence to sentence him to a life in prison. Lucius knew this was perfect, he would find a way to end his antagonist. His father didn't believe he could do it.

He was sixteen then. He stayed in jail for two years before his father decided to give him a chance to prove himself. The murderer was brought in after being caught consorting with a known smuggler. He would have been released after confessing, but he wasn't given the opportunity.

Lucius carefully picked the lock, knowing he wouldn't escape the next layer of protection but not caring. He snuck up behind the guard by his antagonists section of the jail and silently slit his throat, gasping with terror as the crimson red liquid flowed down his arm and onto the ground. He paused to regain his resolve, and determinedly approached his foe.

The murderers faced each other, only a metal door separating them. The external opened the door, and the internal cowered in the face of a knife. The two closed distance, each with desperation in his eyes - only one walked away.

They put Lucius on trial, this time easily linking him to the two murders he committed, with his own confession. The trial was over, his sentence declared, and Lucius turned to see his father staring straight at him. The two smiled, and the boy realized he had never seen his father so proud. Lord Vermillion turned and whispered something to the judge.

They offered him another choice other than death - a chance to serve in the Penal legions of the Imperial guard. He accepted, but didn’t get what he bargained for...

*One relic from a past life:* Lucius was able to keep his fathers mandolin after expressing his mastery of it. Apparently the Commissar who recruited him had a thing for music… Then something about moral… or something… All he knows is that he will stay sane, and he may well survive.

*Reason for induction into the penal legion:* The murder of his lover's killer and a nearby guard. His silent destruction of his foe (and more importantly the influence of his father) led Lucius to survive, but in the Penal legions.

*Reaction to induction:* He was excited at the prospect of not dying. Still though… He's not particularly happy about being trapped in the military equivalent to hell for the rest of his life. He wants out, to return to his father.

*Specialist skill:* He is an expert Mandolin player, and is able to put many animals and beasts to rest using it, as well as calm the nerves of other people. It is how he relaxes, and though he plays it constantly, his ever-changing harmonies ranging from melodic to downright harsh never get tiring to listen to. He is rarely asked to stop (and when he does he ignores it), but rather to play only a specific type of music. This often ends in his stopping, because he gets bored after a while but does not wish to aggravate others unnecessarily.

Relationships with other characters: none as of yet, but he is fairly open to making friends… as long as they don’t mess with his mandolin.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Right all charactors have been added to the orginal post meaning we have our full 12

just waiting for hogglord and signatus to post their edits and then I will get this thing going. Nonetheless while we wait I'm going to start writing the action thread with the aim to post it as soon as they've had time to update.

This should be beginning very soon 

Thanks for your patience


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Action thread is half written, it's bloody long already. Haven't heard from signatus but his edits were minor and hogglord has fleshed his out very nicely so I'm going to get this moving and post up the action thread tonight or tomorrow (hopefully tonight)

I would just like to say when you see the wall of text.

All of that does not have to be included in your update.

This is to give you an idea of what has been going on, the torment you have been suffering, to give a basis for any reflection on your hardships so you can really cut loose and focus on anything you feel like.

As an incentive, every single one of your charactors has been mentioned in the wall somewhere for shits and giggles with a little bit of god modding in a very innocent way, but i hope you enjoy it

I promise I will try and make other updates shorter 

Lets get this show on the road


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

sweet. As to the length, I can say that I have seen a preview and it is going to be epic and a great read! Looking forward to the start man!


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Sorry for the delay guys,

My decision to update came at the innopportune time as double time being offered for overtime at work.

As this happens once in the proverbial blue moon, I'm cramming in 30 hours between thursday and tuesday on top of my regular 12-8 shift meaning though i have finished the introduction and completed 8 of the individual updates and have plans written for all 12, I'm going to be a little delayed with the thread.

it is coming and I'm sorry to be delaying it.

Thanks for your patience

I'm off 9am starts wednesday


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

Is it today or another wednesday?


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Is this still happening?


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

Echoing Angel - is this happening or what??


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

Does anyone have any info on this RP? I am at my RP cap including this one, but if it's not happening I can join one of the other awesome RPs I really want to do that are happening right now.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Apologies on this one and the lack of contact.

A lot has happened over the last few weeks in my life much of it great and some of it bad but all of it leaving me with very little time to do anything beyond run around and try and sort things out.

Essentially I have not been able to leave my mums since the middle of the festive season and thus have not had access to the internet par via my phone, which for some reason makes sending messages intolerable and is stuck on the last post by hogglord on the 19th not showing the subsequent calls for info later.

Long story short the update is written par a last minute check and I intend to post it up in the next few days once I get back to my place and my laptop (hopefully thursday morning), however I do appreciate that this has not got off to the best of starts.

Thus I'm doing a roll call before beginning as I can completely understand peoples frustration and lack of faith considering such a long hiatus despite the festive season

Are we all still commited or if we would prefer to move on to other more exciting projects?

Once again apologies


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## Angel Encarmine (Jul 5, 2011)

Im in


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## unxpekted22 (Apr 7, 2009)

I mean, I'm down. You might want to PM the folks who dont post in the recruitment thread though.


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## Midge913 (Oct 21, 2010)

I am in.


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## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

Count me in


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## High_Seraph (Aug 28, 2009)

Still looking forward to this mate.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

I'm still in for it.


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## DasOmen (Mar 10, 2011)

HE LIVES!


on a side note i'm still game


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## maelstrom48 (Sep 5, 2012)

Still on!


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

You had me worried there, I was beginning to wonder if penal legion RPs just hated me. I'm still up for it, Doc's ready to go!


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## JAMOB (Dec 30, 2010)

So... uhh... yes/no??!?


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## Angel of Blood (Aug 18, 2010)

Still game


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