Post by dewdrop on Jun 3, 2020 18:32:54 GMT -8
Cyrus Delafosse
Resolve level: 0
-Appearance
Age: 24
Sex: Female
Physical Description: Cyrus is a tall, slight woman of fair skin. Her body is pockmarked with various glassy scars and waxen burns, especially over her right arm. A particularly gruesome burn wound has rendered the limb stiff awkward. Though seemingly bony at first glance, she does possess some svelte, cut muscle. Her hair is a dark auburn color. Generally, Cyrus keeps her hair cut short, allowing it to grow no longer than her ears. Cyrus' eyes are olive green in hue. Lanky as Cyrus is, there is an almost serpentine about her figure... lean, quick, and dangerous.
Attire: Cyrus garbs herself in the faded, torn uniform of a soldier of her homeland; a terribly faded blue coat that looks more black now, and a pair of slacks to match. Of her own accord, Cyrus has added some rough scraps of salvaged leather armor to reinforce some parts of the otherwise plain looking garb. The once silvered buttons and clasps of the coat have long since been tarnished, now better reflecting the look of more common metals.
-Biography
Quirks:
Backstory Synopsis: A guerrilla fighter, talented in the trap-maker's art, that has spent years defending the countryside of her homeland from conquering armies and other vicious dangers... until the conquering army won. Now a wanted woman, along with plenty of other guerrilla's, Cyrus has fled, bringing her talents and assets to Hamlet and biding her time to return when the time is right.
Full Backstory: Cyrus was born in a small village, nestled into the verdant countryside of a small nation unrecognized by the rest of the region. She grew up, the sole daughter of an ageing blacksmith in a family made up mostly of brothers. By and large, her youth was tranquil enough. Skirmishes here and there with the greater nations of the world scarcely reached her humble thorpe. Cyrus spent a great deal of time working beside her father by the scorching heat of the forge.
However, there came the day when the skirmishes stopped. Greater nations of the continent had set their sights on the bountiful fields of the little territory, unspoiled by prior conflicts. Decades after her birth, war and ruin had finally come to Cyrus' homeland.
For a time, Cyrus and her family were safe. The tiny nation's great cities were the first to fall, but the great green empty of the countryside would only be secure for so long. Barely a grown woman, Cyrus was thrust into a conflict she hardly understood. A majority of her village picked up their pitchforks and sickles, intent on defending their land. Cyrus was among them.
It was in this bloody, smoky crucible that Cyrus first began to practice her grim craft. She was no soldier, no one in her village was. They could not meet the enemy in the field like the petty armies of her motherland could. Cyrus learned to fight from the shadows. Strike swiftly, and then sink away. She may have never learned to swing a sword, but war had filled her with a profane inspiration. She applied what smithing and tinkering knowledge her father had imparted with her to the creation of rudimentary devices and traps.
She and her peasant compatriots could only hold off the terrible advance for so long. Her home would eventually fall into the hands of the enemy, despite her best efforts, after years of hardship. Heartbroken, and shaken after the horrors she'd been beholden to (some of which were of her own design), Cyrus fled. She would eventually find a new home of sorts in a curious, coastal hamlet, drawn to the place by stories of riches and dangers unheard of elsewhere. Cyrus flocked there along with other foolhardy adventurers.
Misc. Notes:
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons: Cyrus carries a musket plucked from a dead soldier, and a shortsword at her hip for good measure. This shortsword is kept as an emergency, last resort for Cyrus. Her dominant hand is stiff and ungainly thanks to powder burns, and she was never trained with a blade in the first place. All in all, she treats the likewise looted sword like a blunt instrument, lacking the dexterity in her right hand to wield it effectively. Additionally, she carries simple, homemade black powder explosives. Bombs full of glass, phosphorous, and other chemicals or sharp oddities are the norm. Most of these bombs are built to terribly wound their target. Some, such as those containing phosphorous, are functionally flashbangs, creating a bright, blinding flare of light when triggered. However, these blinding bombs are far more scarce in Cyrus' arsenal, as generally speaking, phosphorus is more difficult to acquire than broken glass or bits of metal slag. They certainly do not function as an close quarters alternative to her sword, as Cyrus is largely unarmored, and the loud boom of the things can be incredibly disorienting in its own right. Like the musket, the bombs are a ranged option for Cyrus, typically used to initiate a fight, as they can be difficult to aim in the thick of battle with allies in the melee.
Armor: Cyrus doesn't boast much in terms of armor. There are some scavenged scraps of armor reinforcing her clothes, but these offer only marginal protection.
Other gear: On expeditions, Cyrus generally brings with her a small variety of traps. Toothy bear traps are chief among them, though she also packs goods to put together other simple, yet deadly traps to either reinforce a camp, or prepare for an ambush. While the bear traps are mostly used to impair and mutilate hapless foes, Cyrus is also capable of fashioning other insidious devices. One notable, common trap include a tripwire that, when triggered, drops a hanging bouquet of explosive devices on the unsuspecting target. These traps, for all intents and purposes, are built to hinder or harm her foes. Most will not kill their target outright, even in the case of Cyrus' explosive bouquet, but rather will leave them easy prey for any allies laying in wait. Alternatively, these traps may be set defensively, as a means of protecting vulnerable allies, or alerting a camp of an incoming ambush by night.
Strengths: Cyrus is a cunning and sly fighter. She is at her best when she has the upper hand, typically the element of surprise. After years of honing her art, Cyrus has also become an accomplished amateur tinkerer. While she certainly won't be constructing her own black powder firearms, Cyrus can fashion simple black powder explosives. These lack the blasting power of more professionally explosives, they still function well enough. Additionally, after being exposed to the terrors of war, Cyrus possesses some mental resolve, though this is nothing when faced with otherworldly horrors and monstrous beasts.
Weaknesses: Cyrus is certainly not without her faults. While she fights well from the shadows, and in quick hit-and-run tactics, when faced with straightforward combat, she struggles greatly. The musket she carries can only be fired once before requiring a cumbersome reload process. Due to the stiffness in her right hand, this routine is slow-going for Cyrus. While the musket can certainly be devastating, Cyrus requires the protection of her allies in order to reload it safely. If she can't, she must rely on her limited supply of bombs, and her limited experience as a swordsman.
Resolve level: 0
-Appearance
Age: 24
Sex: Female
Physical Description: Cyrus is a tall, slight woman of fair skin. Her body is pockmarked with various glassy scars and waxen burns, especially over her right arm. A particularly gruesome burn wound has rendered the limb stiff awkward. Though seemingly bony at first glance, she does possess some svelte, cut muscle. Her hair is a dark auburn color. Generally, Cyrus keeps her hair cut short, allowing it to grow no longer than her ears. Cyrus' eyes are olive green in hue. Lanky as Cyrus is, there is an almost serpentine about her figure... lean, quick, and dangerous.
Attire: Cyrus garbs herself in the faded, torn uniform of a soldier of her homeland; a terribly faded blue coat that looks more black now, and a pair of slacks to match. Of her own accord, Cyrus has added some rough scraps of salvaged leather armor to reinforce some parts of the otherwise plain looking garb. The once silvered buttons and clasps of the coat have long since been tarnished, now better reflecting the look of more common metals.
-Biography
Quirks:
- Deadly: If there's one thing that Cyrus knows, it's where to hit where it hurts. She fights to win, and as far as Cyrus is concerned, the best way to do that is inflict tremendous damage to her foes tremendously quick.
- Lurker: Cyrus is used to laying in wait for her foes. She's at her best when she's dwelling in the shadows, preparing an ambush, or poised to strike at her unsuspecting prey.
- Nervous Bleeder: Blood from the bad guys is all swell and good, and even the sight of an ally's bloody wound is nothing, but if Cyrus herself is bleeding? Well, she can't stand the sight of her own blood. This usually impacts her accuracy most of all. Aiming her rifle is difficult with shaky hands, and setting a trap is near impossible.
- Fear of Beasts: Cyrus has seen what a pack of wild dogs could do when they're starved and feral. She has a crippling fear of savage dangerous beasts. When faced with one, she is prone is panic and anxiety.
Backstory Synopsis: A guerrilla fighter, talented in the trap-maker's art, that has spent years defending the countryside of her homeland from conquering armies and other vicious dangers... until the conquering army won. Now a wanted woman, along with plenty of other guerrilla's, Cyrus has fled, bringing her talents and assets to Hamlet and biding her time to return when the time is right.
Full Backstory: Cyrus was born in a small village, nestled into the verdant countryside of a small nation unrecognized by the rest of the region. She grew up, the sole daughter of an ageing blacksmith in a family made up mostly of brothers. By and large, her youth was tranquil enough. Skirmishes here and there with the greater nations of the world scarcely reached her humble thorpe. Cyrus spent a great deal of time working beside her father by the scorching heat of the forge.
However, there came the day when the skirmishes stopped. Greater nations of the continent had set their sights on the bountiful fields of the little territory, unspoiled by prior conflicts. Decades after her birth, war and ruin had finally come to Cyrus' homeland.
For a time, Cyrus and her family were safe. The tiny nation's great cities were the first to fall, but the great green empty of the countryside would only be secure for so long. Barely a grown woman, Cyrus was thrust into a conflict she hardly understood. A majority of her village picked up their pitchforks and sickles, intent on defending their land. Cyrus was among them.
It was in this bloody, smoky crucible that Cyrus first began to practice her grim craft. She was no soldier, no one in her village was. They could not meet the enemy in the field like the petty armies of her motherland could. Cyrus learned to fight from the shadows. Strike swiftly, and then sink away. She may have never learned to swing a sword, but war had filled her with a profane inspiration. She applied what smithing and tinkering knowledge her father had imparted with her to the creation of rudimentary devices and traps.
She and her peasant compatriots could only hold off the terrible advance for so long. Her home would eventually fall into the hands of the enemy, despite her best efforts, after years of hardship. Heartbroken, and shaken after the horrors she'd been beholden to (some of which were of her own design), Cyrus fled. She would eventually find a new home of sorts in a curious, coastal hamlet, drawn to the place by stories of riches and dangers unheard of elsewhere. Cyrus flocked there along with other foolhardy adventurers.
Misc. Notes:
- Cyrus smells strongly of black powder and other sulfurous materials. The stuff can be found everywhere on her; it's beneath her fingernails, behind her ears, and so on and so forth.
- Cyrus is prone to gallows humor. While this can be ingratiating to some allies, her smug, dour sense of humor can be... grating, and frustrating to others.
-Skills & Equipment
Weapons: Cyrus carries a musket plucked from a dead soldier, and a shortsword at her hip for good measure. This shortsword is kept as an emergency, last resort for Cyrus. Her dominant hand is stiff and ungainly thanks to powder burns, and she was never trained with a blade in the first place. All in all, she treats the likewise looted sword like a blunt instrument, lacking the dexterity in her right hand to wield it effectively. Additionally, she carries simple, homemade black powder explosives. Bombs full of glass, phosphorous, and other chemicals or sharp oddities are the norm. Most of these bombs are built to terribly wound their target. Some, such as those containing phosphorous, are functionally flashbangs, creating a bright, blinding flare of light when triggered. However, these blinding bombs are far more scarce in Cyrus' arsenal, as generally speaking, phosphorus is more difficult to acquire than broken glass or bits of metal slag. They certainly do not function as an close quarters alternative to her sword, as Cyrus is largely unarmored, and the loud boom of the things can be incredibly disorienting in its own right. Like the musket, the bombs are a ranged option for Cyrus, typically used to initiate a fight, as they can be difficult to aim in the thick of battle with allies in the melee.
Armor: Cyrus doesn't boast much in terms of armor. There are some scavenged scraps of armor reinforcing her clothes, but these offer only marginal protection.
Other gear: On expeditions, Cyrus generally brings with her a small variety of traps. Toothy bear traps are chief among them, though she also packs goods to put together other simple, yet deadly traps to either reinforce a camp, or prepare for an ambush. While the bear traps are mostly used to impair and mutilate hapless foes, Cyrus is also capable of fashioning other insidious devices. One notable, common trap include a tripwire that, when triggered, drops a hanging bouquet of explosive devices on the unsuspecting target. These traps, for all intents and purposes, are built to hinder or harm her foes. Most will not kill their target outright, even in the case of Cyrus' explosive bouquet, but rather will leave them easy prey for any allies laying in wait. Alternatively, these traps may be set defensively, as a means of protecting vulnerable allies, or alerting a camp of an incoming ambush by night.
Strengths: Cyrus is a cunning and sly fighter. She is at her best when she has the upper hand, typically the element of surprise. After years of honing her art, Cyrus has also become an accomplished amateur tinkerer. While she certainly won't be constructing her own black powder firearms, Cyrus can fashion simple black powder explosives. These lack the blasting power of more professionally explosives, they still function well enough. Additionally, after being exposed to the terrors of war, Cyrus possesses some mental resolve, though this is nothing when faced with otherworldly horrors and monstrous beasts.
Weaknesses: Cyrus is certainly not without her faults. While she fights well from the shadows, and in quick hit-and-run tactics, when faced with straightforward combat, she struggles greatly. The musket she carries can only be fired once before requiring a cumbersome reload process. Due to the stiffness in her right hand, this routine is slow-going for Cyrus. While the musket can certainly be devastating, Cyrus requires the protection of her allies in order to reload it safely. If she can't, she must rely on her limited supply of bombs, and her limited experience as a swordsman.
