Son of the Gun
12-10-09, 10:33 PM
Vitals
Full Name: Lucas Almarion of Gilead
Race: Human - Descendant of the Line of Eld
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Hair: Nearly Black, long and shaggy, often tied back
Eyes: Bombardier Blue
Height: 6' 4"
Weight: 190 lbs
Occupation: Gunslinger
Location: Lost in Salvar
Description
A myriad patchwork of black, gray, and dark brown, Lucas Almarion's clothes are designed only for utility and comfort. Never will he be accused of dressing up for anyone. Heavy black denim cargo pants tucked into a pair of black boots so dusty one might think at first they were brown. A gray chambray shirt laced at the neck, with a darker chambray scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, the length of it hanging down his back. Atop his head a wide brimmed hat, laces dangling untied. And covering it all an ancient calfskin duster, patched and stitched in a thousand places.
From beneath the brim of the hat peer a pair of eyes blue and violent as the Great Sea, shooter's eyes. His tanned face already shows the first lines of age, he at once looks like a child and a man.
Personality
Lucas is a complex born of his upbringing. Wound as tightly as the sinew for a crossbow, he can at times be brash and hot-headed. However he is often cool, steady, controlled. He is as clever as a fox, mind easily thinking around corners most men think are a wall. Loyalty to companions and to Gilead is of grave import to him, some say he isn't capable of betrayal. Though woe to those who have a mind to do it to him.
History
Lucas began life as most children of a Gunslinger do. Raised among the nobles of Gilead, he was given rather free rein until he reached the age where training could begin. Then began a fierce regimen designed to break all but the truly worthy. His body and mind were made harder, quicker, and more deadly then others. He was shown the limits of pain he could endure, and then forced to go beyond them. Taught to think like a killer, a scholar, and a diplomat, all at the same time.
His trainer, Rickard Welles was a legend. Fewer Gunslingers had completed training under him than under any other trainer before. But Lucas persevered, fought through the abuse and tribulations. And when he was 18, ready to accept the final challenge, he walked onto the field outside Rickard's hut and called him out to fight.
Lucas' weapon of choice would have seemed silly to many. He chose his own bare fists. But he knew that anything other than a gun would have just slowed him down. Many bones were broken that day, both his own and Rickard's. In the end it was Lucas standing, Welles admitting to defeat.
His father gave him his guns that night.
A new closeness grew between the two, now equals in society, and Lucas found himself many nights up late, just listening to his father speak of the battles and dangerous scrapes he'd been in. And one night after many cups, his father agreed at last to let him come on a mission with him, rather then sending him off on safe travels that even initiate's would not sweat about.
It wasn't a special mission, just one in which violence might break out. A land dispute between rival ranchers gone sour. When the trio - Lucas, his father, and another elder 'Slinger - arrived, it seemed to be nothing more than an argument gotten out of hand. When bullets started flying, they barely had time to draw their guns.
The two ranchers and their men weren't even aiming for the Gunslingers, but a stray bullet caught the other Elder in the chest, and another Lucas' father just above the eye, ending his life and Lucas' illusions of his father's immortality. It sent Lucas into a rage, hammers on his revolvers flying, beating out a terrible rhythm of death and carnage.
When he returned home he was lauded as a hero, last man standing at the Bloodbath of Cajillo. But their praise fell away as water on a duck's back. His father was dead. At the funeral he claimed only one thing of his father's - the calfskin duster that he had worn for years.
Though it was hard, he eventually learned that the saying he'd once thought so trite and meaningless was true, time heals all wounds. Besides, he had other things to think about now, responsibilities to the Barony. And a new enemy watching from the shadows.
For the next 3 years he followed in his father's footsteps, winning fame and loyalty through combat and diplomacy. But in all the little uprisings, rebellions and skirmishes, a pattern was emerging. A man. A sorceror they said. By the name of Flagg.
He chased Flagg all across the Inner Baronies, scouring the land for traces of the elusive magician, becoming convinced that the rumors of his sorcerous ways were more than rumors. He and his men were beset on all sides by things some might write off as bad luck - freak sandstorms, marauding packs of wild dogs, sudden squalls the likes of which they'd never seen. But Lucas suspected that his enemy did not want a face to face meeting.
At long last, a tip led him to Sal Matara and a box canyon with a network of caves on the far end. Moments after entering the canyon Almarion regretted it, for it soon became a charnel house, Flagg's men setting a trap for them. Captured, he was dragged before Flagg, the cackling old wizard revealed at last. Long hours of torture and interrogation followed, Lucas getting far more answers form the madman than he gave, learning that he was not the mastermind in all this, but just another servant of one called the Crimson King, a name that rung a bell for Lucas somewhere in the back of his mind.
But that all went silent when Flagg's final revelation fell upon his ears. With a wave of his hand his face changed... to that of a familiar one. A face from 3 years ago. The rancher who had shot his father. No longer was it a tragic misunderstanding, but cold-blooded sorcerous murder. Flagg leaned in close, the world in the cave melting as his venomous words wormed their way into Lucas' soul, "In the back of this cave is a door. It leads to a place your little mind cannot even comprehend. If you have the courage you can follow me, and even try to win your honor back."
Dismissing his servants Flagg took Lucas' guns and disappeared deeper into the cave. It took several hours, but Lucas finally freed himself from his restraints and tore through the cave, at last finding the door. Standing alone in the center of a tunnel, it was visible only from the front. Made of ghostwood, one word was scrawled across the top in the High Speech - Fate.
Gripping the handle, he tried to turn it, and for a sickening second it seemed to resist. He heard the click of the mechanism inside yielding, then all was darkness and madness as the door flung itself open. Some invisible force yanked him from his feet and through the gateway, into the empyrean beyond...
Weapons
1 Steel Combat Blade - Approximately the length of a short sword
8 Balanced Steel Throwing Knives
2 - .50 caliber 6 chamber revolvers, solid steel with cherrywood grips (Not currently in his possession, have been stolen from him)
Weapon Accessories
2 Gunbelts of Bullets - These have gotten wet and it's a 50/50 chance if any of them will ever fire again.
2 Low-slung Leather Hip Holsters - Empty
Items
A leather rucksack filled with traveling necessities: Rations, a waterskin, a bedroll, a tinderbox, a bone needle and thread. Also contains a small metallic disc with the Sigil of Eld on it.
A large brass compass with intricate scrollwork on the cover.
Skills
Blood of the Eld - The line of Arthur Eld is known for it's longevity, endurance and agility. As a scion of the House of Eld, Lucas is slightly faster, tougher, and more athletic than an average human. Equivalent to approximately 1.2X Average Human ability
Brawler - A gunslinger is trained in all forms of combat, not just the way of the gun. With just a bit of practice and meditation on his training Lucas is easily the equivalent of any average practitioner. One can only carry so much knowledge at the forefront though, and so only two specific fighting skills can be active at any one time. In order to change which skills are currently active he must spend time equivalent to one full post focusing on nothing but his training in the skills he wishes to bring forward. This change cannot happen more than once per thread. An example of currently active fighting skills are Unarmed Combat and Melee Weaponry - Bladed
Lay of the Land - Lucas is an excellent tracker and fieldsman. Just a short time in an area can have people thinking he possesses the knowledge of a native. It is almost as if the land whispers Her secrets to him. Finding food, water and shelter is never a problem for Lucas. Also, anyone of equivalent level or lower who is trying to evade Lucas can be tracked easily. Those of 1 level higher can be tracked with some difficulty. Those of 2 - 3 levels higher can be tracked with extreme difficulty. Anyone 4 levels above or more can evade Lucas. Those with specific abilities designed to avoid tracking abilities work as normal.
Full Name: Lucas Almarion of Gilead
Race: Human - Descendant of the Line of Eld
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Hair: Nearly Black, long and shaggy, often tied back
Eyes: Bombardier Blue
Height: 6' 4"
Weight: 190 lbs
Occupation: Gunslinger
Location: Lost in Salvar
Description
A myriad patchwork of black, gray, and dark brown, Lucas Almarion's clothes are designed only for utility and comfort. Never will he be accused of dressing up for anyone. Heavy black denim cargo pants tucked into a pair of black boots so dusty one might think at first they were brown. A gray chambray shirt laced at the neck, with a darker chambray scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, the length of it hanging down his back. Atop his head a wide brimmed hat, laces dangling untied. And covering it all an ancient calfskin duster, patched and stitched in a thousand places.
From beneath the brim of the hat peer a pair of eyes blue and violent as the Great Sea, shooter's eyes. His tanned face already shows the first lines of age, he at once looks like a child and a man.
Personality
Lucas is a complex born of his upbringing. Wound as tightly as the sinew for a crossbow, he can at times be brash and hot-headed. However he is often cool, steady, controlled. He is as clever as a fox, mind easily thinking around corners most men think are a wall. Loyalty to companions and to Gilead is of grave import to him, some say he isn't capable of betrayal. Though woe to those who have a mind to do it to him.
History
Lucas began life as most children of a Gunslinger do. Raised among the nobles of Gilead, he was given rather free rein until he reached the age where training could begin. Then began a fierce regimen designed to break all but the truly worthy. His body and mind were made harder, quicker, and more deadly then others. He was shown the limits of pain he could endure, and then forced to go beyond them. Taught to think like a killer, a scholar, and a diplomat, all at the same time.
His trainer, Rickard Welles was a legend. Fewer Gunslingers had completed training under him than under any other trainer before. But Lucas persevered, fought through the abuse and tribulations. And when he was 18, ready to accept the final challenge, he walked onto the field outside Rickard's hut and called him out to fight.
Lucas' weapon of choice would have seemed silly to many. He chose his own bare fists. But he knew that anything other than a gun would have just slowed him down. Many bones were broken that day, both his own and Rickard's. In the end it was Lucas standing, Welles admitting to defeat.
His father gave him his guns that night.
A new closeness grew between the two, now equals in society, and Lucas found himself many nights up late, just listening to his father speak of the battles and dangerous scrapes he'd been in. And one night after many cups, his father agreed at last to let him come on a mission with him, rather then sending him off on safe travels that even initiate's would not sweat about.
It wasn't a special mission, just one in which violence might break out. A land dispute between rival ranchers gone sour. When the trio - Lucas, his father, and another elder 'Slinger - arrived, it seemed to be nothing more than an argument gotten out of hand. When bullets started flying, they barely had time to draw their guns.
The two ranchers and their men weren't even aiming for the Gunslingers, but a stray bullet caught the other Elder in the chest, and another Lucas' father just above the eye, ending his life and Lucas' illusions of his father's immortality. It sent Lucas into a rage, hammers on his revolvers flying, beating out a terrible rhythm of death and carnage.
When he returned home he was lauded as a hero, last man standing at the Bloodbath of Cajillo. But their praise fell away as water on a duck's back. His father was dead. At the funeral he claimed only one thing of his father's - the calfskin duster that he had worn for years.
Though it was hard, he eventually learned that the saying he'd once thought so trite and meaningless was true, time heals all wounds. Besides, he had other things to think about now, responsibilities to the Barony. And a new enemy watching from the shadows.
For the next 3 years he followed in his father's footsteps, winning fame and loyalty through combat and diplomacy. But in all the little uprisings, rebellions and skirmishes, a pattern was emerging. A man. A sorceror they said. By the name of Flagg.
He chased Flagg all across the Inner Baronies, scouring the land for traces of the elusive magician, becoming convinced that the rumors of his sorcerous ways were more than rumors. He and his men were beset on all sides by things some might write off as bad luck - freak sandstorms, marauding packs of wild dogs, sudden squalls the likes of which they'd never seen. But Lucas suspected that his enemy did not want a face to face meeting.
At long last, a tip led him to Sal Matara and a box canyon with a network of caves on the far end. Moments after entering the canyon Almarion regretted it, for it soon became a charnel house, Flagg's men setting a trap for them. Captured, he was dragged before Flagg, the cackling old wizard revealed at last. Long hours of torture and interrogation followed, Lucas getting far more answers form the madman than he gave, learning that he was not the mastermind in all this, but just another servant of one called the Crimson King, a name that rung a bell for Lucas somewhere in the back of his mind.
But that all went silent when Flagg's final revelation fell upon his ears. With a wave of his hand his face changed... to that of a familiar one. A face from 3 years ago. The rancher who had shot his father. No longer was it a tragic misunderstanding, but cold-blooded sorcerous murder. Flagg leaned in close, the world in the cave melting as his venomous words wormed their way into Lucas' soul, "In the back of this cave is a door. It leads to a place your little mind cannot even comprehend. If you have the courage you can follow me, and even try to win your honor back."
Dismissing his servants Flagg took Lucas' guns and disappeared deeper into the cave. It took several hours, but Lucas finally freed himself from his restraints and tore through the cave, at last finding the door. Standing alone in the center of a tunnel, it was visible only from the front. Made of ghostwood, one word was scrawled across the top in the High Speech - Fate.
Gripping the handle, he tried to turn it, and for a sickening second it seemed to resist. He heard the click of the mechanism inside yielding, then all was darkness and madness as the door flung itself open. Some invisible force yanked him from his feet and through the gateway, into the empyrean beyond...
Weapons
1 Steel Combat Blade - Approximately the length of a short sword
8 Balanced Steel Throwing Knives
2 - .50 caliber 6 chamber revolvers, solid steel with cherrywood grips (Not currently in his possession, have been stolen from him)
Weapon Accessories
2 Gunbelts of Bullets - These have gotten wet and it's a 50/50 chance if any of them will ever fire again.
2 Low-slung Leather Hip Holsters - Empty
Items
A leather rucksack filled with traveling necessities: Rations, a waterskin, a bedroll, a tinderbox, a bone needle and thread. Also contains a small metallic disc with the Sigil of Eld on it.
A large brass compass with intricate scrollwork on the cover.
Skills
Blood of the Eld - The line of Arthur Eld is known for it's longevity, endurance and agility. As a scion of the House of Eld, Lucas is slightly faster, tougher, and more athletic than an average human. Equivalent to approximately 1.2X Average Human ability
Brawler - A gunslinger is trained in all forms of combat, not just the way of the gun. With just a bit of practice and meditation on his training Lucas is easily the equivalent of any average practitioner. One can only carry so much knowledge at the forefront though, and so only two specific fighting skills can be active at any one time. In order to change which skills are currently active he must spend time equivalent to one full post focusing on nothing but his training in the skills he wishes to bring forward. This change cannot happen more than once per thread. An example of currently active fighting skills are Unarmed Combat and Melee Weaponry - Bladed
Lay of the Land - Lucas is an excellent tracker and fieldsman. Just a short time in an area can have people thinking he possesses the knowledge of a native. It is almost as if the land whispers Her secrets to him. Finding food, water and shelter is never a problem for Lucas. Also, anyone of equivalent level or lower who is trying to evade Lucas can be tracked easily. Those of 1 level higher can be tracked with some difficulty. Those of 2 - 3 levels higher can be tracked with extreme difficulty. Anyone 4 levels above or more can evade Lucas. Those with specific abilities designed to avoid tracking abilities work as normal.