Rhen Varrus Starwars D20 P.E.A.C.H. (Background included) [Archive] - Wizards Community

Rhen Varrus Starwars D20 P.E.A.C.H. (Background included) [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
BobtheBiotitan
11-18-06, 11:18 PM No one knows where I truly came from. As with the first few years of my life, it is a mystery. The only records of that time are my own and even they are scarce. Unfamiliar faces oozing false love, a dark night under the lash, the hunger and most of all the streets. I’ve been told that I bounced from foster home to foster home, each one worse than the last, until finally I was rescued from that hell and placed into another. Daenor rescued me one day as I was out to play, well I’m not sure rescued is the right word. Whatever you call it, it brought me out of the tasteless environment I was in and made me begin to compete. Compete for my food, my things, even the very air I breathe was fought over. I didn’t understand, but then again how much does a ten year old understand? I just knew one thing. I was hungry and I would fight, and kill, for that food. The fighting made me stronger, but it also numbed me. It numbed me to what was actually going on around me. If only I had known then the prospects of right and wrong.

I had found a family in my new home, and a hundred brothers and sisters. They took me in and taught me how to survive, but I soon found that it was not all fun and games. There were fights among my new family, and sometimes deaths. Tensions ran high in those times. A single wrong look could send a man spiraling out of control. Though we fought each other, we had much bigger things to worry about. There were others, people not part of my family that were trying to survive. They tried to take our home since they had none of their own. That night we forgot our differences and worked with a single purpose, which was the survival of our family. I had never killed a man before that night. A single shot through the head. I didn’t know what to think, the oppression of the darkness outside, the cold pistol in my grip, and the screaming of the dead and dying around me. My family reassured me that it was okay. The family was safe now and we could keep living.

The family was safe, but not the whole family. Daenor, my savior and my father, did not make it through the fight that night. I remember his face. It was cold and grim. Rain pegged his pockmarked face, not only rain from the night, but my own. My world came crashing down that night, but it only made me stronger. No longer would I attach myself to anyone or anything. It was only weakness. Weakness meant death.

A lot of things changed in the next few days. The family wasn’t safe as I had been assured. We fought. Over what I didn’t know, but we still fought. Without Daenor I was on my own. I no longer had a link to the older men and none to the younger ones either. In those days I hid the best I could, not to get away from the fighting, but to get away from the screams, the pain. When it was all over our family wasn’t quite so big, but now we had a new father. I shall not speak his name for it pains me to this day.

Our new father spoke of change in the family. He would make us bigger and stronger then ever, we would be so strong that no one could threaten the family again. He also spoke of sacrifice and of much pain, but necessary pain. I never like that man, and I guess he didn’t like me. After that day I hardly ever saw the light of day. They kept me inside and made me make things for them. I made them bombs, among other things. They also made me slave on a computer all hours of the day. They told me to do things so the family could keep living and be safe. I did them. I hacked into people’s bank accounts so our family could afford what we needed. I looked for the other family’s and found them through cameras. They didn’t last for long.

Then one day another family came. They were the most powerful family. They were arrogant too. They had their name painted on everything. SWAT. I had seen them destroy other families countless times. They had tried to find our family for a long time, but we always hid. This time was different though. They caught us by surprise. They wore shiny metal body armor, and carried powerful rifles and grenades. I joined the fight along with my brothers. We fought as best we could but there were too many of them. My brothers and sisters were dying all around me. I ignored them. I couldn’t look, the pain was too great. I just kept firing my weapon until I joined them on the ground. I saw the faces, something I will never forget, contorted with fear, pain, and anger. I will never forget the screams either. It didn’t last for long. My family began to fade around me. The bad dream was finally over. My vision turned red and then black.

I didn’t understand. When I awoke I found myself in a jail cell. I fed me and kept warm. Then I was brought before a huge gathering of people. I didn’t understand it all, but they said I had done bad things. I was going to be put in a cell for the rest of my life if they proved I did them. A man came one day and told me that some of my brothers and sisters were still alive. If I told him the bad things they had done, then I could not spend the rest of my life in a cell. I told him everything. He reeled back in disgust at some of the things, but never did he say a word. He just kept writing.

I still spent a lot of time in what I later learned to be a prison. I was there for four years until they let me out. In that time I learned much of what I had missed. I learned what was right and wrong. I learned how society worked, and most of all I learned what all the horrible things my family had done back then. It was tough not being with them and with the unpredictable security they brought, but it was also relieving. I was alone for the first time in my life. I could think and do what I wanted, well mostly. The other family still hung around and made me do some things, but they weren’t bad things.

They told me that I was free to go. I learned later that I had turned eighteen that day. I left and traveled as far away as I could. I found a job as a mechanic. I still made things and fixed things for people, but now it was better. No longer did I hurt people with what I made, instead I helped them. I rented an apartment, I bought my groceries, and I played on the holonet like everyone else did. A year has past since then. I still yearn for my family. The thrills and excitements of life with them was intoxicating. In comparison my new life is drab. I’m restless.

Description: Rhen Varrus is a young man of medium height. A pair of green goggles sits atop his neck-length mousy brown hair. There is a delicate nose that adorns his obviously youthful face. A joyful smile splits his face from ear to ear. He walks with a careless swagger. However, above all else, his most striking feature is his vibrant green eyes that radiate confidence and intelligence.

A brown cloak hangs off his broad shoulders. Underneath the cloak, he wears a loose fit brown shirt, a set of rugged black pants, and oversized boots. A couple of pouches and items adorn a large belt. They bulge with their contents. The clang of metal radiates them as he walks. Barely visible behind a large pouch is a blaster pistol hanging from his hip.

Rhen Varrus
Human Male level 1 Scoundrel
Str:8
Dex:16
Con:13
Int:17
Wis:12
Cha:14

Vitality:7
Wounds:13
Defense:15

Fort:+1
Refl:+5
Will:+1

Attacks
ELG-3A +3 3d6 10m 20/x2

Skills:
Bluff +6
Computer Use +9
Craft(computers) +7
Craft(Droids) +7
Craft(Electronic Devices) +7
Demolitions +9
Disable Device +9
Forgery +4
Gamble +3
Knowledge(Technology) +7
Profession(Mechanic) +5
Repair +12
Search +7
Sleight of hand +4

Feats and special qualities
Cautious
Gearhead
Illicit Barter

Equipment
All Temperature Cloack
Comlink
Credit Chip
-270 credits
Datapad
-10 blank cards
Energy Cell x5
Glowrod
Pill bottle
-10 vitapills
Powerpack x2
Mastercraft +1 Tool kit

I have a few questions for the brave souls that actually read the entire thing.
What do you think of the writing style? Too vague and cryptic?
Where do you think I should go with this character? We are going to play in the rebellion era. I want him to be a tech oriented character, with some combat skill. I was thinking a few levels of soldier, but prestige classes are always good. Does anyone have any suggestions on good prestige classes for this character? I'm open to both official canon, and home brewed ones.
Thanks for the help.
BobtheBiotitan
11-19-06, 10:03 AM I went ahead and added in the extended background story for everyone. I just want to know what everyone thinks since my game is next weekend. Thanks in advance guys.
BobtheBiotitan
11-20-06, 08:13 PM Two days of people looking at this thread and no replies? It cant be so bad that no one wants to read it! Even if it is, just post why you think so. I would be glad for any critisism. Any at all! Tell me my story is the worse thing in the world. Tell me you like it. I dont care what you say just tell me, and tell me why you think it. Thank you for anyone who does. I feel like I always get the stiff shoulder around here. I've had six posts in the last year that haven't garnered a single post. I cant suck so bad that no one will read my post in it's entirety. :weep: Can I?

Perhaps this is being too rash, but I just saw a topic go up and garner five posts in the same time as mine has none. Its all just frustrating.

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
BobtheBiotitan 11-18-06, 11:18 PM	No one knows where I truly came from. As with the first few years of my life, it is a mystery. The only records of that time are my own and even they are scarce. Unfamiliar faces oozing false love, a dark night under the lash, the hunger and most of all the streets. I’ve been told that I bounced from foster home to foster home, each one worse than the last, until finally I was rescued from that hell and placed into another. Daenor rescued me one day as I was out to play, well I’m not sure rescued is the right word. Whatever you call it, it brought me out of the tasteless environment I was in and made me begin to compete. Compete for my food, my things, even the very air I breathe was fought over. I didn’t understand, but then again how much does a ten year old understand? I just knew one thing. I was hungry and I would fight, and kill, for that food. The fighting made me stronger, but it also numbed me. It numbed me to what was actually going on around me. If only I had known then the prospects of right and wrong. I had found a family in my new home, and a hundred brothers and sisters. They took me in and taught me how to survive, but I soon found that it was not all fun and games. There were fights among my new family, and sometimes deaths. Tensions ran high in those times. A single wrong look could send a man spiraling out of control. Though we fought each other, we had much bigger things to worry about. There were others, people not part of my family that were trying to survive. They tried to take our home since they had none of their own. That night we forgot our differences and worked with a single purpose, which was the survival of our family. I had never killed a man before that night. A single shot through the head. I didn’t know what to think, the oppression of the darkness outside, the cold pistol in my grip, and the screaming of the dead and dying around me. My family reassured me that it was okay. The family was safe now and we could keep living. The family was safe, but not the whole family. Daenor, my savior and my father, did not make it through the fight that night. I remember his face. It was cold and grim. Rain pegged his pockmarked face, not only rain from the night, but my own. My world came crashing down that night, but it only made me stronger. No longer would I attach myself to anyone or anything. It was only weakness. Weakness meant death. A lot of things changed in the next few days. The family wasn’t safe as I had been assured. We fought. Over what I didn’t know, but we still fought. Without Daenor I was on my own. I no longer had a link to the older men and none to the younger ones either. In those days I hid the best I could, not to get away from the fighting, but to get away from the screams, the pain. When it was all over our family wasn’t quite so big, but now we had a new father. I shall not speak his name for it pains me to this day. Our new father spoke of change in the family. He would make us bigger and stronger then ever, we would be so strong that no one could threaten the family again. He also spoke of sacrifice and of much pain, but necessary pain. I never like that man, and I guess he didn’t like me. After that day I hardly ever saw the light of day. They kept me inside and made me make things for them. I made them bombs, among other things. They also made me slave on a computer all hours of the day. They told me to do things so the family could keep living and be safe. I did them. I hacked into people’s bank accounts so our family could afford what we needed. I looked for the other family’s and found them through cameras. They didn’t last for long. Then one day another family came. They were the most powerful family. They were arrogant too. They had their name painted on everything. SWAT. I had seen them destroy other families countless times. They had tried to find our family for a long time, but we always hid. This time was different though. They caught us by surprise. They wore shiny metal body armor, and carried powerful rifles and grenades. I joined the fight along with my brothers. We fought as best we could but there were too many of them. My brothers and sisters were dying all around me. I ignored them. I couldn’t look, the pain was too great. I just kept firing my weapon until I joined them on the ground. I saw the faces, something I will never forget, contorted with fear, pain, and anger. I will never forget the screams either. It didn’t last for long. My family began to fade around me. The bad dream was finally over. My vision turned red and then black. I didn’t understand. When I awoke I found myself in a jail cell. I fed me and kept warm. Then I was brought before a huge gathering of people. I didn’t understand it all, but they said I had done bad things. I was going to be put in a cell for the rest of my life if they proved I did them. A man came one day and told me that some of my brothers and sisters were still alive. If I told him the bad things they had done, then I could not spend the rest of my life in a cell. I told him everything. He reeled back in disgust at some of the things, but never did he say a word. He just kept writing. I still spent a lot of time in what I later learned to be a prison. I was there for four years until they let me out. In that time I learned much of what I had missed. I learned what was right and wrong. I learned how society worked, and most of all I learned what all the horrible things my family had done back then. It was tough not being with them and with the unpredictable security they brought, but it was also relieving. I was alone for the first time in my life. I could think and do what I wanted, well mostly. The other family still hung around and made me do some things, but they weren’t bad things. They told me that I was free to go. I learned later that I had turned eighteen that day. I left and traveled as far away as I could. I found a job as a mechanic. I still made things and fixed things for people, but now it was better. No longer did I hurt people with what I made, instead I helped them. I rented an apartment, I bought my groceries, and I played on the holonet like everyone else did. A year has past since then. I still yearn for my family. The thrills and excitements of life with them was intoxicating. In comparison my new life is drab. I’m restless. Description: Rhen Varrus is a young man of medium height. A pair of green goggles sits atop his neck-length mousy brown hair. There is a delicate nose that adorns his obviously youthful face. A joyful smile splits his face from ear to ear. He walks with a careless swagger. However, above all else, his most striking feature is his vibrant green eyes that radiate confidence and intelligence. A brown cloak hangs off his broad shoulders. Underneath the cloak, he wears a loose fit brown shirt, a set of rugged black pants, and oversized boots. A couple of pouches and items adorn a large belt. They bulge with their contents. The clang of metal radiates them as he walks. Barely visible behind a large pouch is a blaster pistol hanging from his hip. Rhen Varrus Human Male level 1 Scoundrel Str:8 Dex:16 Con:13 Int:17 Wis:12 Cha:14 Vitality:7 Wounds:13 Defense:15 Fort:+1 Refl:+5 Will:+1 Attacks ELG-3A +3 3d6 10m 20/x2 Skills: Bluff +6 Computer Use +9 Craft(computers) +7 Craft(Droids) +7 Craft(Electronic Devices) +7 Demolitions +9 Disable Device +9 Forgery +4 Gamble +3 Knowledge(Technology) +7 Profession(Mechanic) +5 Repair +12 Search +7 Sleight of hand +4 Feats and special qualities Cautious Gearhead Illicit Barter Equipment All Temperature Cloack Comlink Credit Chip -270 credits Datapad -10 blank cards Energy Cell x5 Glowrod Pill bottle -10 vitapills Powerpack x2 Mastercraft +1 Tool kit I have a few questions for the brave souls that actually read the entire thing. What do you think of the writing style? Too vague and cryptic? Where do you think I should go with this character? We are going to play in the rebellion era. I want him to be a tech oriented character, with some combat skill. I was thinking a few levels of soldier, but prestige classes are always good. Does anyone have any suggestions on good prestige classes for this character? I'm open to both official canon, and home brewed ones. Thanks for the help.
BobtheBiotitan 11-19-06, 10:03 AM	I went ahead and added in the extended background story for everyone. I just want to know what everyone thinks since my game is next weekend. Thanks in advance guys.
BobtheBiotitan 11-20-06, 08:13 PM	Two days of people looking at this thread and no replies? It cant be so bad that no one wants to read it! Even if it is, just post why you think so. I would be glad for any critisism. Any at all! Tell me my story is the worse thing in the world. Tell me you like it. I dont care what you say just tell me, and tell me why you think it. Thank you for anyone who does. I feel like I always get the stiff shoulder around here. I've had six posts in the last year that haven't garnered a single post. I cant suck so bad that no one will read my post in it's entirety. :weep: Can I? Perhaps this is being too rash, but I just saw a topic go up and garner five posts in the same time as mine has none. Its all just frustrating.