Bojask

Scotus's page

33 posts. Alias of Spazmodeus.


About Scotus

Name: Scotus
Career: Scum

Origin: Orphan of the Stars : You were discovered as an infant, in the cryo-creche of a life-support pod of archaic design, near the infamous Halo Stars.
Homeworld: Scintilla - Gunmetal City
Divination: "Thought begest Heresy; Heresy begets retribution" S +3
Gender: Male
Build: Wiry
Height: 1.75m
Weight: 65kg
Skin Colour: Fair
Hair Colour: Dyed
Eye Colour: Brown

Total XP: 2000
Spent XP: 1950
Unspent XP: 50

Characteristics:

Wounds: 12
Fate points: 2
AP:: 3

Rank:Outlaw (3)

WS...27 ⇒ (5) + (2) + 20 = 27 Bonus = 2
BS...34 ⇒ (9) + (3) + 20 = 32 Bonus = 3
S ...37 ⇒ (6) + (4) + 20 + 3 = 33 Bonus = 3
T ...33 ⇒ (1) + (4) + 15 = 20 Bonus = 2
Ag...34 ⇒ (8) + (9) + 20 + 5 = 42 Bonus = 4
Int..28 ⇒ (7) + (3) + 20 = 30 Bonus = 2
Per..25 ⇒ (6) + (8) + 20 = 34 Bonus = 2
WP...34 ⇒ (9) + (9) + 20 = 38 Bonus = 3
Fel...27 ⇒ (4) + (4) + 25 + 10 = 43 Bonus = 4

Walk(½):3
Walk: 6
Charge:9
Run: 18

Starting Wealth : 136
Monthly Income : varies

Skills

Basic

Awareness (Per) +10
Blather (Fel)
Charm (Fel) + 10 +10
Deceive (Fel) +10
Dodge
Inquiry (Fel)
Speak Low Gothic (int)
Speak Metallican Hive Dialect (int)
Naviation(Stellar)
Pilot ( Spacecraft )
Pistol Training (SP) +10
Security
Search

Advanced
Ciphers (Underworld) (int)
Secret Tongue (Gutter) (Int)
Common Lore (Imperium) (int)

Talents
Basic Weapon Training (SP)
Melee Weapon Training (Primitive)
Ambidextrous
Unremarkable
Peer ( Workers )
Peer ( Underworld )

Traits
Charmed When spending Fate Point, roll d10. If rolls a 9, do not lose Fate Point
Ill-Omened -5 Fel intacting with non-void born humans
Shipwise Naviagtion (Stellar) and Pilot (Spacecraft) are Basic Skills
Void Accustomed immune to space travel sickness. Zero and low-G environments are not Difficult Terrain
Packing Iron -5 on all Tests without usable gun
Way of the Gun +5 BS, Pistol Training Talent, +5 Tech-Use invoving projectile firearms

Starting gear

Autogun 1 clip
autopistol 1 clip
brass knuckles
knife
quilted vest
street wear (poor quality clothing)

Sell autogun, autopistol , quilted vest = 100 + 75 +10 = 185

Gear

24 thrones

Purchases:
175 Hecuter 9/5 Heavy Combat Autopistol
80 Light Flak coat
3 60 bullets
15 18 manstopper bullets +3 penetration
5 knife
10 backpack

Weapons
Melee

Knife Damage: 1d5 R Penatration: 0 Special:Primitive Weight: 0.5 kg

Ranged

Hecuter 9/5 Heavy Combat Autopistol Damage: 1d10+3 I Range:30m ROF:S/36 Penetration:2 Clip:15 Reload:Full Special:Reliable Weight:2kg

Armor

Light Flak Coat Covered: Body Armor Points:2 Weight :4 kg

Physical Description:
Wiry and fair, Scotus attempts to dress well, but his circumstances often preclude such an effort. Nonetheless, he projets a quiet confidence , a calmness
of purpose that is sometimes marred by a sneer of contempt.

Biography:

N'uncle always teased Scotus about being found in some alien -looking pod, the tech-priests all a flutter about the unknown-ness of the technology. That Scotus
a human boy was found inside...Hail the Emperor! Could the pod be a remnant of a Standard Template? Well, as N'uncle tells it, a few items of xeno he'd picked
up here and there and Scotus was his. The tech-priests cared only about the technology not the boy within.

Growing in N'uncle's shadow, Scotus quickly became innured to the casual violence that permeated live aboard a void-ship. This one, the Emperor's Will, was
a transport between Forge Worlds and Scintilla. N'uncle was section chief, responsible for the soundness of the body and more importantly mind of more than
10000 personnel. His calm even expression never wavered, whether he was slowly beating the life out of some unfortunate or negotiating a plan with one of the
security forces sent to quell a heretical cell in N'uncle's section.

Scotus always wondered why N'uncle brought him under his wing, placing him under the care of one of his 'wives', but always taking the time when Scotus was
young to instruct and train; but as he grew older the questions grew fewer as Scotus realized N'uncle would never tell.

When Scotus was in his 15th year, a series of warp mishaps struck the Emperor's Will, causing numerous deaths and loss of valuable cargo. Always an
outcast, scrutiny of Scotus began to increase. A woman from the lowest decks began a campaign based on fear and ignorance against Scotus, claiming
he was warp-cursed and had brought the misfortune upon the ship. As it happens with half-truths and baldfaces lies, they find an audience. Slowly, slowly
a rising tide of hate and resentment grew against Scotus, building upon the mistrust and jealousy others felt towards him.

N'uncle's influence ,while considerable, could not stem this tide. With reluctance, the decision was made to 'land' Scotus on Scintilla, as N'uncle said,
"Sorry , boyo. The ship must live."

Alone in Gunmetal City, Scotus use the ruthelessness trained into him by N'uncle. Attacked almost at once, Scotus dispatched his attacker, taking his weapon
and clothes, but not killing him until he'd revealed his 'section' chief. Boldly presenting himself to the 'chief', Nosso Trask, Scotus was appraised and while
found wanting, there was enough potential there, that Trask decided to take a risk with Scotus.

His risk bore fruit immediately, as Scotus proved to be a most able and efficient operative. While the Hive was different, people were the same everywhere,
and the lessons Scotus had learned on the Emperor's Will were very applicable here in the hot, press of humanity.

After many a shakedown and strongarm , Scotus came to be a well respected fixer for Trask's organization. Always practical, Scotus was under no illusions
as to the longevity of his career with Trask. Trask's territory reprented less than a 100th of a percentile of the totalality that was Metalgun City.

Already, Scotus had begun to hear whispers the one of the larger gangs was positioning itself to take out Trask and his orgnization. For some time,
Scotus had been freelancing, taking the odd job here and there, usually for an individual that called themselves Silent. Often acting merely as a courier,
Silent had Scotus running all over Metalgun City. But the thrones were good enough to keep Scotus interested.

On one such delivery, Scotus was high up in the City, standing in a shadowy alley, watching the wellclothed, well-fed highborn hurry past. His lip curled
in derision, he turned a the soft cough from behind him. From out of the deeper shadows, an arm reached out, a small package held out to Scotus.

Taking the package, Scotus inquired, Where to?".

"Your employer, Mr Trask." the figure said softly, before pulling back into the shadows....gone.

His face screwed up in annoyance, Scotus shrugged and made his way back down....down...down , into the depths of the Hive.

Arriving at Trask's lair, he noted with professional curiosity that the usual sentries didn't challenge him...indeed they lay on the ground, heads
lying severed on the ground.

Entering, Scotus found more bodies, some decapitated , some merely sliced in half.

Having to see for himself, Scotus made his way into Trask's inner sanctum, finding the man pinned to the wall, his flesh having been flayed from his body.

"Special delivery...." Scotus said softly to his former employer.

Then, curious as to what was in the package, Scotus opened it. For a long moment, he stared down at the object in his hand, not quite processing it's importance.

Laying there in his palm, burnished metal gleaming, was a badge. A badge that signified the bearer as an Acolyte of the Inquisition.

Blinking rapidly, Scotus turned the badge over and over, until he was satisfied as to it's authenticity.

Then, with a shrug, he pinned it under the lapel of his cloak and walked out of Trask's headquarters, thinkgin "Well, one boss is as good as another..."

XP expenditure:

100 Agility +5
100 Fellowship +5
250 Fellowship +5
100 Awareness +10
100 Charm +10
100 Unremarkable T
200 Decieve +10
100 Inquiry
100 Ciphers (underworld)
100 Secret Tongue ( Gutter)
100 Peer ( Workers ) T
100 Peer ( Underworld ) T
100 Dodge
100 Charm
100 Security
100 Search