Name:
Real name: Sarl Wander.
Childhood and tribal name: Sailing wind.
Modern name: Wander, the Gun Runner.
Age: 34
Gender: Male.
(By the way I'm pretty sure nightkin and super mutants have genders, think of the difference between Tabitha and Neil, or between Fawkes and Lily Bowen.)
Physical Desc.: Sarl has a tough, slim body- hardened by his childhood of living in the Cliff birds tribe, a bit west of Arroyo (yeah, I know I invented something). He has tattoos all over his body, though he tries to hide them with clothing. He has relatively small eyes, making his perception bad, but somewhat accurate, and he has very strong legs allowing him for travel and great agility.
Personality: Sarl Wander is never satisfied with anything; he won't settle with "good", it is either "erfect" or "dead". He will often continue suggesting prices even after a gun was bought from him, and even a speck of dust on one of his 10mms would cause him great annoyance, and a great desire to fix the mistake. For this reason, Sarl is slow in combat, searching for the perfect shot before actually taking it. He also really, really likes sunset sarsaparilla.
Trait: i make
Caps: 150
$ NCR: 50
Legion Denarius:50
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Weapons:
Used by him:
- 357. revolver
- 44. magnum revolver
- Gun Runner 5.56 pistol
- hunting revolver.
Carried by his pack brahmin for sale:
- 4 9mm pistols
- 2 12.7 pistol
- 3 10 mm pistols.
- 2 10mm sub-machinegun.
- a fully modded varmint rifle
- a lever action shotgun
- recharger pistol
- 2 plasma defenders.
Armor: Leather armor re-inforced.
Misc.: A ton of repairing and crafting supplies, not gonna list them.
Room: No room, Sarl's a traveling merchant.
Health: 100/100
Armor Health: i make
Conditions: Fine
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Faction: Gun Runners.
Group: Him and trusty old Fetka (his Brahmin)
Perk:Jury Rigging.
Special: i make from bio
Bio: Sarl Wander was born to a family of famous and wealthy caravan owners, who ran caravan routes in a triangular trade from New Vegas, shady sands and tribal villages in the north including Arroyo. When Sarl was a baby, he was on a caravan trip with his parents, when they were traveling by the shoreline, the territorial tribal warriors of the area destroyed the caravan, burning it down with an incinerator and killing Sarl's parents with laser rifles. When looting through the dusty remains of Sarl's father, they found Sarl cradled in the ash pile. They took him and grew him as a warrior. They found a little not saying his name, but did were illiterate so they mistook it for "Sailing Wind", two words they were familiar with. Sarl, being a curious and tenacious boy became one of the tribe's explorers. One day, when exploring east of his village, he found the remains of the caravan he once traveled in as a baby. Digging up notes and holotapes he found out his true identity, and used what little money he could scavenge to travel to Shady Sands, in hopes of re-building his parent's business. While he didn't exactly make his own caravan company, Sarl got a contract with the Gun Runners, traveling to the cities of New Vegas, New Reno, and shady sands selling high-caliber, high-quality pistols.
no
Iron - Serf
Flag
Name:Gregory Miller
Age:18
Gender:Male
Physical description:Black hair, brown hair, pale
Personality:Nice, sharing, good-natured
Trait:
Caps:250
$ NCR:390
Legion Denarius:0
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Weapons:Service Rifle 20/200, M1 Garand (7/90)[not with you], 10mm pistol (12/200), plasma[6], frag[6], EMP's[3], incendiaries[1], flashbangs[12]
Armor:NCR face wrap, goggles helmet
Misc.:Picture of family, dogtag, NCR emrgancy radio, 5 pure water, 5 gecko kababs,70 Tops Chips
Room:Barracks bed
Health:80/100
Armor health:150/150
Conditions:Fine, nice one dummkopf
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Faction:NCR
Group:
Perk:Good spotter
Special:You get an old service rifle handed down for generations.
Bio:Greg was born in to a military family. His brother was shot in the heart in the battle for the dam. That was when Greg wanted to join the NCR army. As soon as he turned 18, he was at the recruitment center. He trained hard. When he finally got put in the Mojave wasteland, he was ecstatic.
he/she has a gender, your just not sure. But it looks like a she more than he
and he/she literally jumps up and stabs you in the arm, utterly terrified
Name: Grace Thomson
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Physical Desc.: 6'2, Toned muscles, Bleach Blonde hair,
Personality: Intelligent, Remorseless, Enjoys toying with targets and joking around, Mildy psychotic
Trait: I'm not crazy...: You do a bit extra damage
Caps: 150
$ NCR: 50
Legion Denarius:50
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Weapons: Cowboy Repeater(7/70), .357 Revolver (7/70), Machete
Armor: Renegade Duster, Desperado Cowboy Hat
Misc.: 5 Dirty Water, 17 Pork&Beans, 5 Sunset Sasparilla, 3 Nuka Cola, 3 "Strange Meat" pies
Room: I.E. your house or hotel room
Health: 100/100
Armor Health: 75/75
Conditions: Fine, Epic robot hand
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Faction: Evil Cowboy(Faction Negated)
Group: none
Perk: Anarchist: +20% damage and +5% critical rate against major factions, +10% damage against minor factions
Special: DIE DIE DIE: the more you kill the more damage you do for a short time
Bio: Grace was never really...right growing up. Hell, she sure wasn't graceful. When she was 10 years old, her father and brothers were killed by drunk NCR Military Police during a trip to New Vegas. Half a year later, her town was razed during a Legion raid. With the help of a psyche twisted like a mobius strip, she figured that any and all authority must DIE. Since then, anyone who tried to take care of her has met a painful death, often with the body scattered over a small area with a "T" cut in them. She mostly learned how to survive on her own, with some help from the poor souls that tried to help her
try looking back at the shack where you found it :P
Wood - Squire
Flag
Nameechlan Tomsett
Age:18
Gender:Male
Physical Desc:Average muscles,Lost one eye,Brown hair.
Personality:Calm,Stern and thinks alot.
Trait Your more accurate under heavy fire
Caps:150
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Weapons:Ol'Reliable Repeater,Nail board and 32 pistol.
Armour:Head wrap,Eye patch and leather armour.
Misc:4 dirty water,5 Mutfruit and 2 crunchy mutfruit, Stealthboy
Room:
Health:100/100
Armour health:
Conditions:Fine
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Faction:No faction.
Group:none
Perk:Good shot
Special:lolwut?: apparently your childhood sucks: uhm...AHA...no wait...YAY!: 10 % damage vs. animals and non-kids
Bio:Grew up with his grandfather since he was 2 till he was 16,He had no real social life only with his pet dog,Honey,Which he lost when he was 10,Honey just dissapeared.He was taught how to shoot at 6 and trained ever since.He also loved ghost stories and would ask his grandad to tell him one everyday before bed and he loved them but he usually asked for ones about Ghost Animals,Also in his spare time he ran around looking for animals and talked to them gave them fuss and tried to show them he was a friend.He never really had many pets but Honey(Mentioned earlier)and Mr.Tibbles(His pet hamster)Tibbles died when he was 6,Also his grandad died of cancer 4 days after his birthday,and he was sad for weeks and still has bad dreams and can hardly sleep
"Silence, NCR! You will fight to the death against two slaves, this should be easy...but your NCR, weak in the arm. Trust only your range weapons"
a gate on the other side is released and two slaves run out with rags wielding machetes as well