Characters The Crew

GunMetalDrac · #1 03-25-2011, 04:13 PM

This is where your characters go.

The ship will be a highly advanced Frigate by the name of Ambition Knows No Bounds. The crew refers to it as the Ambition. The Profit Factor of the dynasty will be set fairly low.

The last thing I will mention is that the players are allowed two "free background choices". Assuming your using the normal rules for creating a RT character, there are restrictions as to what the next step for the character can make on each tier but this free background choice allows them to ignore one of those restrictions. An example is probably the best way to explain this:

Considering the normal way the chart looks say it was only a 3x3 chart.

1 2 3
4 5 6
7 8 9

Normally if a character chose 3, he'd be restricted to choosing 5 or 6 in the next tier. With this rule, if the person chose 3, he could also choose 4. He would then have the choice of 7,8 in the third tier. He could not choose 9 without using his second choice because it is to far away from 4, and he has already used the restriction to choose 4. If you choose to use both "jumps" I expect to see a fairly well written reason for the jumps.

Finally, stats will be created using a point buy method. You will be given 100 points to spread across all the stats. You may only have 1 stat at 20. Only 3 may be in the 19-15 range. You must have at least 5 points assigned to each stat.

CHARACTERS ARE TO BE DONE BY APRIL 4th. NO EXCEPTIONS

Mjöllnir · #2 03-27-2011, 05:33 AM

I had a hard time finding a online database for character sheets for the rogue trader campaign setting so I had a search on ze internet and found a pretty good editable .pdf file. (As long as you have adobe acrobat you might want to use it.) You can get it Here

GunMetalDrac · #3 03-27-2011, 09:48 AM

Just use table formatting to display your character.

An example of what i mean can be found at: http://www.rpgcrossing.com/showthread.php?t=108852

CHARACTERS ARE TO BE DONE BY APRIL 4th. NO EXCEPTIONS

Mjöllnir · #4 03-27-2011, 11:25 AM

Name: Malakai Bjornivol
Career: Navigator
Background path: Fear>Darkness (dark secret)> Tainted > Stubjack > Forgeworld

Ever since Malakai was young, the ruinous powers were attracted to him. Ever since he was but a cup, strange things appeared to be happening whenever he was around. No one could comprehend what it was, until one day the veil of the warp was so thinly stretched, by his young and inexperienced mind that strange howls had been heard every night over a course of nearly 2 weeks.

People in the community had feared whatever horror had been brought amongst them, however unable to pinpoint the source. Man had send out volunteers to patrol the corridors at night. It was a unpleasant business but it seemed to help. The howls had come less frequently, and less intensive. People began to get used to it, and mass-fear had seemed to dissipate over night.

But then after nearly 3 weeks, horrible screams, and death cries had been heard in the middle of the night. Everyone had seemed to hear it, for not nearly 2 minutes later. People were outside in the corridors, looking for the cause of such horrid sounds and they had found the source of the screams. Bjorn Sonok had been one of the volunteers; A pleasant lad and always polite and kind. He had taken up the duty without the slightest fear in his heart... and his presence would be missed.

His dead body desecrated by whatever foul powers that had been at work. His blood used to mark the ceramite groundplates with dark runes of unknown power.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
As you can imagine, the Inquisition was there within moments. Hunting down the being that had this young man's death on his conscience. It was but month later that they had found the cause of such horror, a powerful young and innocent mind that had no control over his own power.

It was but years later Malakai was freed from the strong hold of the adeptus Astra Telepathica. Forced into service for the Goodmont Family. He had been glad to find out that Karlesia Goodmont had been a kind woman, favoring his service more then other more experienced Astropaths. He had steadily risen through the ranks and soon was seen as a personal councilor to her and as a good friend and perhaps even more then that (Or so was the rumor) yet he's the only one who truly knows.

The death of his Mistress had come harsh to him and he's still struggling with that, but at least he knows that he'll do his best to keep his beloved diseased lieges son save.

Personality: Malakai is most loyal to his friends and his liege, having grown up under such strong regime he had no other choice. He's a kind man although rather fixed in his ways. He doesn't hold to strongly on the old disciplinary rules he's been taught. Therefor sometimes coming up with experiments that could yield possible danger.

Appearance: It's better if I just show you.

Hover

EDIT: Will still need to figure out the AP and weapon bonuses and I have to fill them in on the sheet, however lacking time at the moment.

GrimDarkOtter · #5 03-27-2011, 01:50 PM

Name: Harlan Cavett
Class: Seneschal
Origin Path: Forge World → Scapegrace → Criminal → Press-Ganged → (jump) Pride → Seneschal

Background:
Harlan Cavett was born Cavett Juvenile 2, Sector 7L, Gang 2-2F on the forgeworld Hadd, one of the Lathes. There he was raised deep in the rocky corridors of an underground manufactory, drilled in an uncaring school and minded by mind-numbed parents. At the age of fifteen, Cavett failed to report to his education shift and was declared fugitive. In the periphery sectors and lost corridors, he joined others who could not stand the oppressive, regimented society the Tech-Priests of Mars had in store for them. Rather than be mere menials, they chose to be criminals. Cavett proved to have an unrecognized talent for concocting chems of whatever kind their lice-ridden customers desired. Stimms, dregs, slaught, anything. Turning his intellect to profits, it wasn't long before the Tech-Priests' Quaestors came hunting this new supplier. Thanks to the betrayal of one of his dealers, Cavett was imprisoned and scheduled for a servitor conversion, but he was saved by the arrival of the Ambition Knows no Bounds in orbit.

Calling in an owed marker, Karlesia Goodmont arrived in search of crew laborers. The unique gravity conditions of the Lathe worlds produced not only finely wrought machinery, but a population so well-built, they are sometimes called closer to ogryns than men. Loathe to give up their workforce, the tech-priests made sure the first batches to go to the Ambition came straight out of the penal facilities. A few weeks later, the Ambition was leaving the Lathes for parts unknown. Below decks, Cavett had joined Supply Crew Twelve-Beta, Commissary. With access to the food stores, the young criminal found himself with greater influence than ever before. Not only did he get new and exciting foods (not hard compared to the Omnissiah's Own Protein Paste), but he could easily squirrel away a few supplies that wouldn't be missed. Soon he found himself sitting on a decent supply, and then he began trading.

With the focus a forgeworlder can bring to bear, Cavett made decent enough profits on each gain. Soon he was able to bribe his supervisor with enough regularity to get out of nearly all duties. He used his spare time to wander the ship, becoming familiar with its halls and operations. With nearly every corner of the ship trading through his tidy black market, it wasn't long until Karlesia herself came to Harlan with items to be found. He was even given the privilege of departing the ship to find them in friendly ports, though where a Rogue Trader might be too obvious. He considered running, but Harlan could not abandon his new-found fortune. And more importantly, he knew that ship had saved his life, and he had no desire to leave. Slowly, Cavett worked his way into Karlesia's inner circle, and even had the pleasure of accompanying her to a high-spire ball on Scintilla. There he also had the grim privilege of seeing her assassinated by a jealous lover, shot at point-blank range with a concealed pistol.

Now the Goodmont Warrant of Trade and the Ambition herself have fallen to the last of the line. Knowing the under-decks as he does, Cavett has been mustering the crew to get the ship into at least some semblance of neatness and order before the new heir arrives. They do not know their character or attitude, but knowing the fate of the other Goodmonts, Cavett is doubtful that this new-made captain will be up to the task of commanding Cavett's own ship.

Appearance: Like all those born on the Lathes, Mr. Cavett has a short, broad frame. Luckily, he didn't have a lifetime in the grav-works to further twist him as so many from those forge worlds have been, but this has given him some flab rather than industry-earned muscle. His skin is a pale hue, almost as pale as his void-born companions, and his dark brown hair is kept in a bushy curl about his face and head. Mr. Cavett's dress is quite incongruous, as he usually wears the comfortable crew coverall he became accustomed to belowdecks, but will wear the fine robe of a shipmaster over it. He often carries around interesting items and weapons obviously beyond his class and upbringing, but if questioned he will swear they are "gifts from the lady Karlesia".

Personality: In public, Mr. Cavett seems a very humble person. When seen on the high decks, he often keeps his gaze lowered and his voice quiet, disguising the below-decks patois. This behavior amused Karlesia, no doubt part of why she so readily accepted him as an advisor despite his origins as a near-slave in her ship's underdecks. Cavett is very aware of the class divide that separates an up-jumped forge-boy like him from the true nobility, and he tries not to let it show. Out of sight, in the back-halls and offices of the crew, however, Cavett is as hard and demanding a bosun as there ever was. He deals with the crew in a firm hand, and quietly arranges himself within the web of political intrigue that is a ship's crew. Now that Lord Alexian has arrived to take charge of the Ambition, Cavett finds himself growing wary of the young noble, feeling that the Ambition is now just as much his, and the legacy of Lady Karlesia must be protected. Even if that means stealing away a few items into hiding before the new scion of the house arrives....

BangBangTequila · #6 03-27-2011, 02:08 PM

Name: Alexian Goodmont, Last Trade Prince of the Goodmont Dynasty

Career: Rogue Trader

Background choices: Noble Born -> Stubjack -> Warrior -> Calamity -> Prestige (Command) -> Rogue Trader.
Replacement: Noble Born -> False Man -> Tainted (Brute) -> Calamity -> Pride -> Rogue Trader

Appearance: Alexian Goodmont is a glorious sight indeed, with the true form of a Captain. He wears a resplendent suit of gold-inlaid armour, covered with the intricate carvings tracing his heritage back a thousand years, the sigils and talismans warding him from harm and triumphantly displaying his pride in the Goodmont name. His head is bare, no hair graces his head. He wears a plain but bright and very well crafted red coat over top, sleeveless and laying on his shoulders, held by a gold chain around his neck, and carries an ornately gold-inlaid helmet. His armour is likewise covered by ritual scroll work and weaving patterns depicting glorious victory against vaguely rendered, but clearly alien, foes with chainsword and bolter, a relic of the Angevin crusade and bearing the personal marks of Saint Drusus himself.

Tentative Addition: Yet there is something about him, his musculature too defined, his movement too graceful, his constitution too sound. His body was just a bit too perfect, and it carried a vague sense of unease. Most simply attributed it to his great lineage and history as an Adherent to the Drusian philosophy, leading the Crusades against the filthy Xenos and building a reputation as a skilled commander and brutal fighter as he went. More still ignored this and simply gazed upon him in awe of his prowess and power. However there were whispers, quickly silenced by his loyal men or any Officers near by, that perhaps something was not quite right...

Personality: Alexian, or the Lord Goodmont as he's called anywhere within earshot, is about as solid as a man can be. He rarely makes snap-decisions unless absolutely necessary, and always hears as much about a situation as possible before deciding. Once he's committed to a course, however, he follows it with a single-minded determination that makes him such a success on the field of battle. Garnering his wrath is comparable to pulling down a mountain; difficult under any circumstance, and unstoppable once accomplished. The only sure way to draw his wrath is to threaten his crew, or insult his lineage. From the lowliest deckhand to the Arch-Militant himself, the man who threatens those who serve the Lord Goodmont is fortunate indeed to keep his life, and best ensure Alexian is buried deeply indeed before he closes his eyes. These qualities give him a well-earned reputation as harsh but fair, and he is one of the few leaders who does not command loyalty, but has it all the same.

Background: Alexian was born two score and four years ago, aboard the mighty warship Ambition Knows No Bounds, son of the renowned Karlesia Goodmont and her concubine. He had a childhood far beyond what even the nobility might call normal, learning the art of war not only with bolter and monoblade, as is typical, but with poisons, cunning, politics, and trickery. He was schooled for leadership in the forge of battles against pirates and xenos, cutting his teeth on Orks when most children were given their first work assignments. By the age of twenty, he had risen to such stature and force of personality, Karlesia saw no alternative but to let him loose on a transport recently liberated from the hands of piratical scum with flamer and axe. It was the greatest gift she could have given him, for it went far beyond mere adamantine plating and macrocannons, it was the gift of freedom, of realizing the dreams every child of the Goodmont line had shared since learning their first words. He embraced his mother one last time, saluted her, and brought his volunteer crew aboard his new ship, dubbed the Flight of Goodmont, and made towards the uncharted, in search of Glory and Conquest in the name of Goodmont.

He went for many years as one of the most successful commanders of the Expanse, purging a dozen planets and forging a small empire, charting no less then three stable Warp-routes between his newly carved domain and strong Goodmont territory, and managing to eradicate the entirety of an Ork Waaaaagh! His Dynasty was immensely proud, and soon Alexian was in charge of his own Sword-class Frigate, and organizing a unified inter-planetary defence force for his worlds. His fortunes were high, his reputation higher, and his mother ecstatic that she had raised such a glorious commander. Then the Waning began.

First the various lesser members of the family in the less important ships began to vanish into the void. In the beginning, few took notice, since these were the men and women shunted from the front of the Goodmont ranks because they were found lacking, and so their loss was considered no more then their due. Abruptly the pattern changed, however, with the mighty cruiser, His Majesty's Holy Flame suddenly vanishing while patrolling a well-secured sector, no sign of it's escort ever returning to port. That was when Alexian, as the rising star of the Dynasty, was brought to the table. He searched the systems for months before finding a lead, a cryptic hint delivered at great expense by the lips of a Stryxis, leading him into the Unknown Reaches. Barring any other paths to follow, and pressure mounting with the losses of three more frigates and their more and more influential Lords-Captain, Alexian took the plunge.

It was not long before he began to suspect treachery, but before a new warp-course could be plotted, the tell-tale heavy-burn of a massively armoured and heavily armed Ork vessel rounded a moon and closed, the shouting and gleeful grunting coming through the Vox until Alexian shut it off. The head of a Warship was his domain, and he'd be damned if he allowed the Orks to wrest it from him, and so he powered the Batteries and fought. The battle was a grand affair, what the Lord Goodmont faced in armour and brutality was met with cunning and skill, making up for the lesser armament with greater speed and vicious strikes, his inability to seriously wound the vessel offset by a dozen light wounds, cutting component after component from the Orks' arsenal. However it took but one unlucky hit from the great lance attached to his opponent's Prow to wound the Flight, and Alexian had little option but launch a final salvo and make for ground. His salvo did more then such a gesture should, however, striking the engines of his hated foe, and causing both ships to share a fate, a barely controlled plummet to the surface.

It was the skill of his Voidmaster that saved him, for they barely avoided a mountain range to grind to a halt in the harsh landscape of a plateau, mere miles from a settlement. The Orks, according the the ship's Augery, blessedly located near the stern and thus spared the hazards of the crash, were only a few hundred kilometers, though their ship had landed far harder then the Flight and hopefully suffering greater casualties. They quickly mounted up their forces, a mere handful surviving barely numbering a thousand. The Munitorium had survived as well, blessing them with their fine array of wargear, and allowing them to establish a true force to defend themselves from the green tide that they knew was coming. They were not disappointed.

It was just over a year before the Imperial Navy picked up the distress beacon-and by the Emperor was Alexian proud of his Enginseer Prime for activating it before his death! Such devotion to one's station, even unto death, was everything he ask for from his crew-and it was not a moment too soon. The thousand odd men had so far been able to organize into fire support teams to augment the feral world's PDF, while lacking in the technology to match even the primitive Orks they fielded a planet-wide army of nearly 20 million. The bodies served well to dull the ferocious assault of the Orks long enough to bring Alexian's artillery down on their heads, and such bombardments quickly broke the divided groups of a few thousand at a time, but the attacks lessened and survivors began mention a new name-Hurtchurz Bigchopz. Eventually, the new Warboss united the independent tribes, and cut a bloody swathe through the continent, bringing a hundred city-states to their knees, only to be cut a head shorter by the merciless green-skinned foe. The inevitable battle between the Goodmont force and Bigchopz began three days prior to the rescue's arrival, with the only lull shortly before the ship broke atmosphere. Alexian challenged the boss, slamming his blade against his nearly-drained plasma pistol, and bellowing through his vehicles speakers. The beast was massive, and rode on a fearsome beast covered in spotted red fur and snorting past two-foot long tusks. The combat was brutal, with neither fighter willing to yield so much as an inch in front of their men-the Ork because it was better to die then do anything but fight, the Man because to yield was to invite destruction to dine on his force. It was a full twenty minutes before, bloody and tired, Alexian slumped his shoulders, and the tip of his powerblade lowered. Bigchopz roared a victorious growl, but when his blow fell, to the surprise of all, Alexian dove under it, rolling past his foes leg and driving his sword up through his midriff to the hilt, lightning-wreathed tip bursting from the spine halfway up. An almighty roar from the Men accompanied by a furious charge scattered their foe, as streaks of liquid thunder began to rain down. The Navy had arrived.

It was a detachment of Stormtroopers who skinned the beast into a cloak for Alexian, their way of showing respect and admiration for his feat of bravery, cunning, and finally strength in the defence of the planet, and the Admiral Yuran Hoff shook his hand and made it very clear that this tale would spread, and should Alexian ever need call, the Battlefleet would answer, come hell or high water. The luxurious ride-for even a military vessel bore the comforts to supply such a celebrated guest, came as an uncomfortable reminder of what was to come. While he'd aspired to be Lord Captain once again, to do so at the cost of his entire Dynasty was...beyond words. He spent the first day to himself locked in his quarters with armed guards outside and grieved for his mother, his uncles and aunts, all of his nieces and nephews, many of whom had not come close to their majority. It was among the saddest days of his life. However, upon leaving his chambers, he was more determined to restore the glory of his family then ever, and they sailed for the Ambition with his standing at the Admiral's right hand, with nothing but the grim visage of a Rogue Trader out for vengeance ever crossing his face...

Alexian's Thorn - Elite Guard Company
4 x Platoon {17 Troopers w/ Assault Lasguns + 2 Medics w/ Assault Lasguns + 1 Officer w/ Assault Lasgun and Laspistol}
2 x Marksman Squad {4 Sharpshooters w/ Long Las + 1 Officer w/ Long Las and Laspistol}
2 x Support Squad {2 man Heavy Stubber team + 2 Troopers w/ Assault Lasguns + 1 Officer w/ Assault Lasgun + Laspistol}
Trooper

WS	BS	S	T	Ag	Int	Per	WP	Fel
40	40	40	40	40	40	40	40	40

*Sharpshooters: +5 BS, Medic: +5 Int, Officers: +5 Fel
Wounds: 12
Armour: Guard Flak Armour (4, All)
Weapons: Assault Lasgun (Assault Lasgun Basic, 50m, 1/–/5, 1d10+3 E, Pen 0, 120, 2 Full, Reliable, 4.5 kg, Average)
Gear: Hand Vox (1 Vox Caster per Platoon), Demolition Charge (2 per Platoon) Knife, Fire Gel, Survival+Gun Cleaning Kit, Filtration Plugs, Void Suit, 2 x Magazine, Pack of Lho Sticks, Medics: + Medikit, Sharpshooters: + Night Cloak, Officers: + Monosword, H
Trained Skills: Awareness, Dodge, (Medic: Medicae), (Officer: Command), *Tech-Use + Demolition (1 in 5)*

djm · #7 03-27-2011, 06:08 PM

Name: Jack "Jay" Dran
Home World Noble-Born
Origin Path: Noble-Born --> Stubjack --> Duty-Bound (Duty to the Throne) --> The Hand of War --> Pride --> Arch-Militant

Appearance: Tall and imposing, Jay is every inch an Arch-Militant. Standing just short of two meters (almost exactly six-and-a-half feet) and weighing only two hundred pounds of lean, lanky muscle, Jay is rather slight, bordering on gaunt. This gauntness, however, does nothing to subtract from the air of deadliness that follows Jay around like a cloak... If anything, his slight build emphasizes his deathly air, giving him a rather skeletal look. With long, silvery hair to match, Jay looks every inch a "grim-reaper" of sorts, the stereotypical tall, pale, gaunt warrior ancient societies claim came to collect their dead. Disregarding such allusions as heretical and blasphemous, Jay nevertheless puffs his chest out just a bit at the comparison. After all, how can a seasoned warrior not take being compared to Death's Angel a compliment?

Traditionally garbed in light carapace armor with his battle-tested dual bolt pistols and massive greatsword, Jay commands respect with not only his sheer height and dominating presence, but also with the doubly impressive arms and armor he carries with him at all times.

Personality: Although serious, Jay is not as cold-hearted and uncaring as he may come off as at first... Provided you aren't a Heretik or xeno. His grim demeanor masks an almost childlike sense of fascination with anything new and unusual, and an equally childlike sense of mischievousness. Beneath this all, though, is something almost incomprehensible. In place of a survival instinct, Jay's past experiences have wrought in him a finely-tuned and efficient sense of violence. Utterly conscienceless, this past Noble is the perfect Arch-Militant, the very definition of a thorn in the side of the Heretiks: Ruthless, uncaring, and damn good at his job. These characteristics, combined with his lack of care for his victims, is the reason that Jay was assigned a spot aboard the Ambition. He kills in the name of the Emperor above all else, this "mission" his first calling over all others.

And, quite frankly, a mission that Jay does quite well.

Background: Born aboard the Ambition just days after his friend and Captain, Alexian Goodmont, Jay is physically everything that his friend is not. Tall, and lanky, Jay had a certain air about him, one that could tell those who knew how to look for it that this young man would be able to handle both himself and any problems arising of the more violent nature... A sort of problem extremely prevalent aboard the ship. Quiet and dangerous even as an adolescent, Jay never had the patience to sit through lessons on nobility that it seemed everyone else did.... And so he didn't. Recruited for the path of bodyguard at an early age, Jay never even sat down in class beyond those teaching him literacy... For his chosen career, he didn't need to. Learning his lessons from the many ship breaches he was part of, one one side as frequently as the other, and the odd raid he was allowed to participate in, Jay soon outshone all of his "classmates". Easily the best shot of the prospective soldiers, and as deadly with the blade as even some of the seasoned veterans, it was not long before it was decided that the life of an ordinary soldier would only be a waste of the man that was Jack Dran.

And so, just after his eighteenth birthday, Jay was shipped off of the Ambition. His father, and the scouts from various Space Marine Chapters that inevitably floated around the ship, encouraged him to take on the trials and tribulations that all Space Marines must before being accepted... And, astonishingly, Jay refused this most honored offer. His reasoning was that he had vowed to return to the Ambition once his training was complete, and would do nothing to hurt his chances of returning. The ship meant too much to him. Understanding his decision, but nevertheless disappointed, Jay's father agreed with his reasoning. Sent to one of the most widely-renowned battle schools in the galaxy, Jay was taught his art, and taught it well. Taught so well, in fact, that Jay was singled out even there. He, instead of a high-priced mercenary, was destined to become one of the best genetically unaltered and most feared human warriors in the entire universe: Arch-Militant.

Just years after his first lesson at eighteen, Jay was already more skilled in the art of blade and gun than many could ever hope to be... But he still had one last mission to complete, to show his progression. Baffled for years by the slow disappearance of the family of the man he and all of his relatives before him had called "Captain" for quite a while, Jay took heart when he heard the news that the Ambition Knows No Bounds, the ship he was born on and the ship that was captained by his oldest friend Alexian, had been found crashed on some backwater planet. Deployed to to planet on a rescue mission, Jay was dismayed when it looked as if he'd been too late... But was overjoyed when he discovered that his friend had not only survived, but broken the back of the Ork forces united against them for the good of his people. The effect of the ordeal upon Alexian, though... When he didn't even come out of his quarters for over a day, Jay knew his old friend had been changed in a way that none of them could comprehend at this point. Spending days at a time beside his Captain, Jay requested deployment to the Ambition, his reasoning to his superiors being that Alexian was sure to do something desperate and daring, and he'd need the best and most skilled of the Arch-Militants at his side... And, also, one of his firmest and most steadfast friends. Seeing reason in the request, he was granted his wish, and leave to stay aboard the ship until the young Captain released him from his service, a fate that Jay hoped would never come to pass.

ShinobiArtist · #8 03-27-2011, 06:25 PM

Crunchy BitsName: Lazarus Kale
Career: Explorator
Homeworld: Forge World
Origin: Forge World→Child of the Creed→replace Zealot with New Horizons (Archeotechnologist)→Calamity→Renown→Explorator

Squishy BitsAppearance: Lazarus stands approximately 5 feet tall and is barely held up by a scrawny frame. Lazarus does his best to make up for it with blessings to the Omnissiah. First being the weakness of oxygen dependence. The large grill attached to the lower jaw was the first of Lazarus' augmentations, but definitely not the last. The optical orb placed in his right eye socket shines a dull green. It is no question who this man shows fealty too. A heavy drab green cloak covers the other changes needed to survive as a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Personality: Cold and calculating, Lazarus takes every project he undertakes as a testament to his abilities. As such he vary rarely makes a mistake. While the cogitaters leave little room for the eccentricities of the human mind Lazarus is not with ought a semblance of humor.
Background: Born into the life of a forge world citizen, Lazarus has been surrounded by machinery his whole life. It was shown at a young age his aptitude for anything that whirs, clicks, or grinds. This skill was not unnoticed by the machine cultists who were always on the lookout for potential servants. The next few years were met with great toil and worse hardship.

Finally proving himself someone who could communicate with the machine spirits of the greatest mechanisms. Lazarus was put aboard a vessel registered with the imperium as a freight transport. The true purpose of the vessel however; was to search for technology lost to mankind. Most people would want nothing to do with anything from the dark age of technology, but the adeptus mechanicus knows this is something that needs to be done in order to progress mankind. So only those deemed trustworthy enough are sent out to search for space hulks or dead worlds; long since abandoned by their former inhabitants. The risks are great and manifold, from the chaos of the warp to the very planets themselves which might be overrun by xenos or other nightmares. The reward however is too much to pass up for someone who has dedicated his life to the Omnissiah.

This first mission was what sparked the fire inside of Lazarus to discover all he could about the past technologies. This first mission was also the one that almost cost him his life. The small vessel was struck by debris when it attempted to investigate a rather large space hulk. A ship fire scorched Lazarus' right side from his torso to his skull. To save his life his frail skin was replaced with the blessed grafts and his missing eye was granted the gift of sight by the cult. This calamity shook him to the core, but a fire had been lit inside him. Seeing him as a threat, but also a great asset, the heads of the cult sent him with an upstart trade dynasty to repay a debt and also get rid of a potential problem.

Charactersheet

Will finish soon

GeoAvanti · #9 03-28-2011, 01:19 PM

Name: Dregsog Grimbad

Career: Freeboota Ork

Background : Ork, Blood Axe, Hunta

Freebooterz Orks have become a growing concern to the authorities of the Koronus Expanse and the Calixis sector. But to Rogue Traders? The same is true, of course, but many Rogue Traders are also enterprising individuals, not given to flights of panic without reason. Such individuals are those who may find an Ork of their own to make use of, assuming the price is right and they have the ability with which to keep their 'investment' in line. Shipmistress Karlesia Goodmont was proven to be such a person.

Dregsog's version of events before he was pulled onto the Ambition Knows No Bounds are hazy and often vary wildly with each telling. The more consistent elements respond to a mutiny on an Ork Kroozer, which, according to Dregsog, eventually ended up blasting itself straight into a sun. He was not on it by that point, obviously. The most likely course of events is that Dregsog gathered some wits about him and found a working escape pod at some point during the fight-- he will smash anyone sayin' it was before the ship exploded, of course. Given the status of the escape pod, it is difficult to tell just where he came from, or how long he was adrift. Ork physiology means that he could have endured a great deal longer than any human put into that same position. Judging by the remains also found within, it seems likely he was not the only occupant when the pod launched.

At first, the crew of the the Ambition Knows No Bounds were unsure of what to make of the nearly-scrapped escape pod when they pulled it aboard. Even more confounding was the response that came from within the wreckage when the door cracked open in the middle of the cargo bay. Only a great, booming voice echoed out-- it's owner much too smart to jump out into the field of fire of numerous weapons, especially without any other Boyz ta get shot first.

"Oys. 'Afore yaz go on wit' tryin' ta shoot me, Iz got a very 'gree'ble prupasition fer yaz, I do."
The enterprising can turn even the most desperate situation into a gain.

In return for not being shot, and a healthy dose of loot and teef whenever it came to fighting, Dregsog signed up into the crew. The Ork is a capable enforcer in a crew of so many, unafraid to get violent to squelch any dissension or potential mutiny-- and he has more than earned his keep when it comes to fightin', especially in ship boarding actions, where the shock of an Ork leading the charge is often a great surprise to the enemy forces. He is also terribly useful in any faculty requiring brute strength and zero tact.

Appearance: Dregsog is an Ork. He is big, (usually) green, with a jutting jaw, sloping forehead, and enough teef to consider opening an Ork casino. A brute in every sense of the word, Dregsog favors close combat, though like nearly every Ork out there, he has an unapologetic love of loud and explosive things, namely 'Dakka', and any weapon capable of grievous amounts of it is probably in his possession, assuming it was ever allowed on the ship in the first place.

Due to his love of close-combat, he favors the 'ardest armor he can find, most of which is a slap-dash cobbled-together collective of whatever loot he pries from corpses, or pieces of the ship that he doesn't think anyone else could readily identify. His massive Choppa has seen a great deal of custom work, and a few pieces of it may even be identified as former ship parts.

As a recent development, he has taken to attempts at camouflage, both in traditional and 'new age' manners. Traditionally, he favors trying to hide behind bulkheads and pipework, greatly enjoying getting the chance to jump out and scare other crew members. Unconventionally, he has taken to body-paint-- using it either as a supplement in helping him hide in other places, or as a stand-alone alternative which.... often fails spectacularly. Particularly when he tries to look like an 'umie or a "spikey twiggy". Despite these setbacks, he is still convinced that he can make it work by making the 'umies more orky in the first place.

Personality: Dregsog is a survivor, first and fore-most. Most Orks simply call that being a Freeboota, but the way a human envisions a mercenary is very, very different from that reality. Dregsog is bizarre, even for an Ork, willing to experiment and try different things to see what happens, mostly to himself-- so clearly some form of his self-preservation is not functioning properly, even if he is largely still intact. As a whole, Dregsog spends much of his 'free time' aboard the ship trying to be sneaky. Being an Ork, he is quite bad at this endeavor, though it does not dissuade him from trying. As he puts it" "Right, wotz in the can is wurth orange in the 'and." No, the xenolinguists do not know what that means, either.

Lately, Dregsog has been beginning to devise his own nefarious invention: "'umie cam'flagz". This is nothing so despicable as it may sound. Rather, Dregsog simply douses most of his body with a flesh-tone colored paint and tries to pretend to be a human. The result of which is often more entertaining after the consumption of a great deal of ploin juice than it is an effective disguise, but even if his "'umie cam'flagz" is a pitiful attempt at blending in, he seems to be catching onto the idea itself, and he is slowly proving better and better at completely disappearing within the depths of the ship, much to the chagrin of every human on board.

Dregsog likes his current Boss. The git has guts an' fire, and could probably stomp a gretchin' flat, so he can probably run a kroozer right an' proper. So long as Dregsog keeps gettin' his loot from the fightin', he is happy to continue the mutually beneficial arrangement that seem to be going on with the ship.

Character Sheet

Wounds: 14/14
Fate: 1/1
Corruption: 0
Insanity: 0

Characteristic	Value	Points	Base	Advancement	Other
Weapon Skill	48	18	25	5
Ballistic Skill	20	10	10
Strength	52	17	30	5
Toughness	55	20	30	5
Agility	33	10	20		3 (Blood Axe)
Intelligence	20	5	20
Perception	30	10	20
Willpower	25	5	20
Fellowship	20	5	15

Skills

Skill	Target	Basic/Trained	Modifiers
Awareness	30	Trained
Barter	20	Trained
Carouse	55	Trained
Charm	10	Basic
Climb	26	Basic
Command	10	Basic	May use Intimidate with Greenskins
Common Lore (Orks)	20	Trained
Common Lore (War)	20	Trained
Concealment	33	Trained
Contortionist	16	Basic
Deceive	10	Basic
Disguise	10	Basic
Drive (Walker)	33	Trained
Dodge	16	Basic
Evaluate	10	Basic
Gamble	10	Basic
Inquiry	10	Basic
Intimidate	52	Trained
Logic	10	Basic
Scrutiny	15	Basic
Search	15	Basic
Silent Move	16	Basic
Speak Language (Low Gothic)	20	Trained
Speak Language (Ork)	20	Trained
Swim	26	Basic
Tracking	20	Trained

Talents

Name	Mechanics
Basic Weapon Training (Primitive, SP)	Can use Dakka Dakka!
Melee Weapon Training (Universal)	If it smashes or chops, it'll work.
Pistol Weapon Training (Primitive, SP)	Smaller Dakka is still Dakka!
Xenos Weapon Training (Ork)	Let's make it Orky!
Furious Assault	All-Out Attack grants extra attack on hit.
Iron Jaw	Toughness test to ignore Stunned condition.
Peer (Blood Axes)	+10 Bonus to Social rolls with Group.
True Grit	Halve results when taking Critical Damage

Traits

Name	Effect
'Ard	Unnatural Toughness (x2), Iron Jaw, true Grit, Sturdy, +20 Medicae tests to treat injuries
Made Fer Fightin'	Gain furious Assault and Ork Weapon Training.
Make it Work	Ork weapons lose Unreliable when used by Orks.
Might Makes Right	Replace Command with Intimidate with other Greenskins. May affect up to SB in number.
Mob Rule	Orks within 10m grant +10 WP to resist Fear and Pinning.
Non-Imperial	-10 on Lore checks regarding the Imperium of Man.
Speak Not Unto the Alien	Social rolls with non-orks is two degrees tougher. -2 Morale on ship.
Sturdy	+20 to resist Grapple and Takedown
Unnatural Toughness (x2)	Double Toughness Bonus

XP - 500

Improvement	XP Cost
Drive (Walker)	200
Simple Advance (Strength)	100
Simple Advance (Toughness)	100
Simple Advance (Weapon Skill)	100

Weapons

Name	Quality	Class	Range	Damage	Pen	Special	Weight	Other
Power Klaw	Good	Melee	--	2d10+10E	10	Power Field, Tearing, Unwieldy	17.5kg	+5 WS (Good)

Armor

Name	Quality	Covered	AP	Weight	Other
'Ard Hat	Common	Head	2	3kg
'Eavy Armor	Common	Body, Legs	4	8kg
Iron Gob	Common	Head	2	5kg

Equipment

Item	Quantity	Notes
Eldar Incubus Helmet	1	Dregsog's personal trophy. Occasionally, he will sit it on top of his head and try to pass himself off as a "spikey twiggy"
Ploin Juice	4	Possesses at least four containers at any given time. Great ice-breaker at parties.
Teef	2	Ork currency. Not terribly useful on a non-ork ship. Does not stop him from trying, however.

Defense

Location	AP	TB	Total Armor
Head	4	10	14
Body	4	10	14
Arms	0	10	10
Legs	4	10	14

punkrockguy · #10 03-29-2011, 08:38 AM

Name: Lucas Parl IV
Career: Void Master

Background: Many people are lucky enough to be born into high up, Noble families in the Imperium, Lucas was not so, but most would consider him just as lucky as any Noble. His father and his ancestors stretching back hundreds of years had been Pilot Extraordinaire to the Rogue Trader Family Goodmont, each member of the family's male line being strangely proficient and simply brilliant with all aspects of spacecraft piloting. Since almost the dawn of the Rogue Trader family's existance their Flag Ship has been Piloted by a Member if the Parl family.

Lucas spent his early years upon the Ambition knows no bounds in the tutillage of the bridge crew and his father (When not too busy guidiing the voidship through the miasma of the warp), learning all that his family legacy embodies. Even by his family's standards Lucas is astoundingly skilled at controling the huge form of a void ship. At the age of 12 Lucas was one of only 50 people that were allowed to attend the baby shower for the newest member of the Rogue Traders bloodline, Lady Karlesia had kept the event small, only allowing her heads of staff +1 and family members in orbit to attend, Lucas' father had taken him, dressed in all finery. The baby shower went smoothly, many a gift was layed at the babe's cot. Among them, Lucas remembers, was a gift of major significance, from Lord Sergio Goodmont: a set of Best Craftsmenship Enforcer Light Carapace, Sergio had presented it, saying "My Adepta biologis has done a Gene Projection and assure me that this should fit him just perfect when he matures into adulthood."

Eight years later Lucas was given the helm of his own void ship, under the command of one Lord-Captain Severus and moved off into the expance. Another seven years passes in which Lucas grew into one of the most revered pilots in the Rogue Traders fleet, bested only by his father and the pilot that volunteered to the Flight of Goodmont. In 002 M42 three months after the loss of Lady Kalesia, Gabriel Parl, Lucas' father passed away after docking at a Re-suply port, post mortum gathered that it was the stress of the many warp storms that had finally consumed the life of the much loved and honoured Pilot.

Called back from Lord-Captain Severus' voidship and replaced by his aprentice, Lucas was ferried to the Ambition where he took his rightful place in the pilots chair, dealing with his fathers death as his father had before him, with a steely determination to do his ancestors proud.

punkrockguy · #11 03-30-2011, 07:10 AM

Space Pirate · #12 04-03-2011, 04:42 PM

Name: Cyrix Vorgez
Career: Navigator
Background choices:

BackgroundVoid-Born>Scapegrace>Tainted>DarkVoyage>Prestige

I have been told that it was during a jaunt through the void that I was born. I spent the majority of my childhood aboard the frigate on which I was conceived, the stars being my only neighbors, the static hum of the warp drive my lullaby. I have heard many claim that the vastness of space invokes feelings of melancholy and isolation; especially those who have witnessed the horrors of the void, yet I cannot help but feel most at home while wandering these black seas. Perhaps it is my lineage that draws my heart to the corners of the galaxy.

Both my Mother and father represented the Magisterial house as did their parents before them. The blood of the navigator is both a blessing and a curse I must bare, for each step closer it drags me toward the mystery of the void, that much further I am drawn from the realm of humanity. There were times in my youth when witnessing the chaos of the planes that I contemplated puncturing or blinding my eye, as well there were times when even it's ineffable terrors appeared as fairy tales in comparison to the hells of reality.

War is a trying thing upon anyone’s sanity and I have witnessed many times the painting of blood upon walls at zero gravity, and the deafening hammer of cannons against the hardened halls of a ship. Worse perhaps were the inhabitants with whom I shared my home. Mercenaries and hardened soldiers, rogues with the eyes of wolves, and vagrants with no dreams beyond the glory of the next battle. I learned to be cautious, how to cover both my feelings and weaknesses, how to survive. I was more fortunate than others in many ways due to the fear stirred by my mutations and my enigmatic legacy.

They refer to us as Navigators, tainted anomalies of evolution. Born with an extra eye that can pierce the veils of reality ,the denizens of our house are both feared and revered for our exotic power. Besides providing vision into the void, the third eye also aids us in traversing the hazardous dimension itself. Without this ability the Imperial forces would be without the many conveniences of extended warp travel, and the great empire would be not but the a few closely knit galactic highways. This makes our kind invaluable to the greater scheme, providing us with a unique position of power. However like most blessings ours does not come without its own price.

Born with an irregular respiratory system I have had to rely upon cybernetic implants for survival. The mask covers my mouth and nostrils, yet thankfully I can still communicate via an artificial vocal synthesizer. My eyes are a murky void, pitch black spheres that capture even the slightest light allowing me to see in the dark, yet perhaps strangest of all these afflictions is one that cannot be seen with the naked eye. It is a secret I have kept for the entirety of my life for fear of persecution. Since I was a child I have been able to feel the emotions and presence of others around me even when they are not within my regular vision. Their feelings have provided me with sanctuary at times, though they can also become a burden during moments of stress or uncertainty. This perception extends beyond the psyche however, having a second application, one that is highly revered.

The Void Watcher can descry the universe around him, sensing things far beyond his reach both within, and outside the abyss. The void is in many ways more real to me then the material world itself, yet if I had a year to explain even its minute details to you, I could not. Unaccountable and ever-changing the subjective void is said to be many things to many people, as intangible as love or the imagery of a dream. Some claim it a forest, or an abandoned city that must be charted, too myself it is these things and more. As all things it is not entirely good or bad, and though my life has had many hardships and has come with a significant price tag, my path has brought me face to face with the many wonders of our galaxy and beyond. Purple rose nebula’s, valleys of stars glittering like jewels, fleets of warships evaporating into flames, all these things I have witnessed and none I would trade for even ten lifetimes spent upon the surface of any planet.

Appearance:
Cyrix Vorgez is tall and thin standing at over six feet with willowy limbs and spider leg fingers. His eyes are holes in his bone white skull, and the Navigator wears the cloak of his house which he uses to cover his grotesque physical appearance. A mechanical voice echoes like a machine running under water. from the metallic fixture that covers his missing jaw and lower nose.

Personality:
Cyrix is very committed to his responsibilities, hoping to one day hold a reputable position within his house. Due to his differences from regular humans the void born escapes the alienation of reality by fleeing into the dream world of the abyss. This individualistic nature makes it difficult for others to relate with the Navigator furthering his disassociation. Despite these diversions however, Cyrex has learned to live in harmony with others, avoiding confrontation when it is possible. The mysteries of the void and the curiosities of space keep him aboard a star ship whenever possible.