Post by speakeroftruths on Nov 2, 2017 2:20:45 GMT -8
Borivoi, "Šťastný"
Resolve level: Sapper, 1 (1/2 to 2)
Gold: 600
-Appearance
Age: Mid 20's
Sex: Male
Physical Description: Lean and strong, this Bohemian man stands at a little over 6 feet with the build of a runner. His pale skin is unevenly covered with scars of various ages from old to recent. His riverstone grey eyes dart about anxiously, and they are ringed with dark bags common to those who sleep little and stress frequently. The dark brown hair on his head and face is scraggly and unkempt, as though he has been weeks without a razor, which serves to cover a face prematurely lined from worry. Under his gloves
Attire: Borivoi wears a long, concealing wool greatcoat with many pockets, heavily spattered with mud, dirt, and rain. His head bears an extremely dented copper and leather helm lined with fur, with a simple nose guard and ear flaps. His canvas pants are sloppily tucked into heavy fur-lined boots, and his hands are covered by gloves that were once fine kidskin. He wears a number of necklaces with assorted symbols and talismans, and his belt holds a keyring with four large keys, each heavily engraved. Finishing off his attire is an oilcloth rucksack common to soldiers in hostile climates.
-Biography
Quirks:
+Lucky: "I survive. Most of my friends don't."
+Engineer: "What the hell are you doing?!? That's a load-bearing wall!"
-Skittish: "Look, you try digging a trench under bombardment and see what it does for your nerves."
-Tinnitus: "Sorry, did you say something? Couldn't make it out over the ringing."
Backstory Synopsis: A too-young veteran from Bohemia, currently of questionable desertion status.
Full Backstory:
Misc. Notes: A collection of various religious symbols, simple signs, and habits of following folk rituals from multiple cultures. Wears a ring of 4 large keys on his belt, engraved with many names. Slightly singed eyebrows that do not grow back perfectly. A scar just left of his heart, usually concealed under the greatcoat.
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons: Trench Axe, Sharpened Spade, Loose explosives
Armor: Thick wool coat, gloves, boots, sapper's helmet
Other gear: Bombmakers materials, pencils, parchment, measurement tools
Strengths: Actual a half-decent fighter hand to hand, knowledge of engineering. a good head for numbers.
Weaknesses:Pretty constantly high-stress, very specialized schooling, superstitious, possibly wanted for desertion
Resolve level: Sapper, 1 (1/2 to 2)
Gold: 600
-Appearance
Age: Mid 20's
Sex: Male
Physical Description: Lean and strong, this Bohemian man stands at a little over 6 feet with the build of a runner. His pale skin is unevenly covered with scars of various ages from old to recent. His riverstone grey eyes dart about anxiously, and they are ringed with dark bags common to those who sleep little and stress frequently. The dark brown hair on his head and face is scraggly and unkempt, as though he has been weeks without a razor, which serves to cover a face prematurely lined from worry. Under his gloves
Attire: Borivoi wears a long, concealing wool greatcoat with many pockets, heavily spattered with mud, dirt, and rain. His head bears an extremely dented copper and leather helm lined with fur, with a simple nose guard and ear flaps. His canvas pants are sloppily tucked into heavy fur-lined boots, and his hands are covered by gloves that were once fine kidskin. He wears a number of necklaces with assorted symbols and talismans, and his belt holds a keyring with four large keys, each heavily engraved. Finishing off his attire is an oilcloth rucksack common to soldiers in hostile climates.
-Biography
Quirks:
+Lucky: "I survive. Most of my friends don't."
+Engineer: "What the hell are you doing?!? That's a load-bearing wall!"
-Skittish: "Look, you try digging a trench under bombardment and see what it does for your nerves."
-Tinnitus: "Sorry, did you say something? Couldn't make it out over the ringing."
Backstory Synopsis: A too-young veteran from Bohemia, currently of questionable desertion status.
Full Backstory:
Born the seventh son of 13 siblings, Borivoi was conscripted into the army at the age of 16. Truth be told, his family was not incredibly sad to see him go, for they had more children than jobs in the family accounting business, and it was one less mouth to feed. That family seems like a distant memory now, as he did most of his growing up in service to his nation. Or, more appropriately, in service of the best interests of certain Bohemian nobles with deep purses and long-reaching ambitions. As a result, his comrades in arms were more of a family to him than the relatives he left behind.
His new family, however, suffered attrition. Early in his career, the instructors noted his mathematical aptitude and sent him to train with the engineering corps. His unit did not have artillery of their own, so that meant training as a sapper. The work was grueling and hideously dangerous, working his way towards the enemy fortifications under constant fire, with maybe a set of hay bales or a mantlet for cover. As a result, he and his fellows received officer's pay if they survived. That was far from a guarantee, however, and more often than not, he found himself splitting extra shares with the other survivors as they attempted to drink the memory of what had happened to their brethren.
After his first siege, he claimed a key to the fort they had taken and etched the names of the fallen into it. This tradition continued through three additional sieges, all of which ended in tragically Pyrrhic victory as sieges so often do. Even those taken quickly will see major losses among the sappers. By the second siege, the other veterans took to calling him "Šťastný" (Lucky), but the name didn't really stick until repeated visits to the surgeon's tent revealed exactly how close he had come to the bullet scratching his heart, or getting crushed in that collapse, or standing too close to the palisade he was currently planting explosives on. From that point on, the name spread, and he took up collecting customs and trinkets from fellow soldiers and cultures as he encountered them. He attributes his good luck to his "omni-superstition," having a ritual or talisman for any situation. As long as he has his bases covered, he'll pull through, and his collection keeps growing.
At the most recent siege, however, the scouts had failed to account for a regiment of cavalry reinforcements coming up the road. The siege was routed so thoroughly that the survivors of the initial charge scattered in every direction. Separated from his fellows, Borivoi found his way to the Hamlet, where he thinks to lay low until he is thought dead and will no longer be hunted for desertion.
His new family, however, suffered attrition. Early in his career, the instructors noted his mathematical aptitude and sent him to train with the engineering corps. His unit did not have artillery of their own, so that meant training as a sapper. The work was grueling and hideously dangerous, working his way towards the enemy fortifications under constant fire, with maybe a set of hay bales or a mantlet for cover. As a result, he and his fellows received officer's pay if they survived. That was far from a guarantee, however, and more often than not, he found himself splitting extra shares with the other survivors as they attempted to drink the memory of what had happened to their brethren.
After his first siege, he claimed a key to the fort they had taken and etched the names of the fallen into it. This tradition continued through three additional sieges, all of which ended in tragically Pyrrhic victory as sieges so often do. Even those taken quickly will see major losses among the sappers. By the second siege, the other veterans took to calling him "Šťastný" (Lucky), but the name didn't really stick until repeated visits to the surgeon's tent revealed exactly how close he had come to the bullet scratching his heart, or getting crushed in that collapse, or standing too close to the palisade he was currently planting explosives on. From that point on, the name spread, and he took up collecting customs and trinkets from fellow soldiers and cultures as he encountered them. He attributes his good luck to his "omni-superstition," having a ritual or talisman for any situation. As long as he has his bases covered, he'll pull through, and his collection keeps growing.
At the most recent siege, however, the scouts had failed to account for a regiment of cavalry reinforcements coming up the road. The siege was routed so thoroughly that the survivors of the initial charge scattered in every direction. Separated from his fellows, Borivoi found his way to the Hamlet, where he thinks to lay low until he is thought dead and will no longer be hunted for desertion.
Misc. Notes: A collection of various religious symbols, simple signs, and habits of following folk rituals from multiple cultures. Wears a ring of 4 large keys on his belt, engraved with many names. Slightly singed eyebrows that do not grow back perfectly. A scar just left of his heart, usually concealed under the greatcoat.
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons: Trench Axe, Sharpened Spade, Loose explosives
Armor: Thick wool coat, gloves, boots, sapper's helmet
Other gear: Bombmakers materials, pencils, parchment, measurement tools
Strengths: Actual a half-decent fighter hand to hand, knowledge of engineering. a good head for numbers.
Weaknesses:Pretty constantly high-stress, very specialized schooling, superstitious, possibly wanted for desertion
