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Full Version: Coldshort's Company Character Thread > Forums > Role-playing
Post your characters here. Please don't clutter the thread with comments; that's what the planning thread is for. Post character sheets only, so we can have a nice, neat reference.

NOTE: for those not involved in the original planning, check the planning thread for available classes/roles if you would like to join in.

Here's the Format

Name: Keara

Gender: Female

Age: 23

Race: Caucasian

Appearance: Long black hair, dim grey eyes, and a thin, wiry body (likely from heavy chem use). Wears an old pair of jeans and a faded grey t shirt. Carries a pair of binoculars as well.

Energy Weapons

Weapons: Laser Rifle, Plasma pistol, switchblade.

History and Background:
Keara is both the youngest and newest member of the group. She was recruited a year ago after being caught trying to steal from Coldshort's crew. Instead of punishing her, Laura made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

Keara has a long criminal history, considering her age. Not too long ago, she was employed as a caravan guard for a man named Doc Hoff, who dealt in chems. A hopeless jet addict, Keara couldn't resist stealing her own employer's merchandise. She was not only fired, but stripped of everything she owned and left for dead. It wasn't long before the Regulators heard of her deeds, so she stayed out in the wastes, slowly trying to regain her place in the world.

It was not long after this that she happened across Coldshort's Company. She had no caps, no clothes, and no weapons, so she decided to try her luck robbing them while they rested. Laura caught her, and instead of turning her in to the Regulators, suggested that she pay off her debts by working with the mercs as a scout.

She got no pay at first, as penance for her attempted theft, but now she is on the 'payroll', and has obtained some new equipment.

Keara is probably the least 'honorable' member of the group, and is known to be very opportunistic. She is still on the run from the Regulators (which she has kept secret from the rest of the group), she has problems with authority (with the exception of Laura, who she feels indebted to), and is highly dependent on chems. Her best friend is her dog, Lucky, a black lab that has tagged along with her since her early teens.
jack cloudy
Name: Jonathan Guntherson
Gender: Male
Age: 39
Role: Mechanic/techguy
Race: Caucasian

Jonathan is a somewhat short man with a thin frame. black hair mixed with grey struggles to cover his skull and fight the encroaching baldness. He also has a thin moustache and a long goatee. Other than his physical attributes, Jonathan is characterized by his tathered and stained labcoat, the toolbelt around his waist and the pair of glasses he always wears. His glasses used to have actual lenses, but they broke at some point and he’s never found a suitable replacement.

Repair (high)
Improvised construction (basically, for coming up with new ways to attach things to other things.)
Small arms (Very Low)
Eyesight (poor at long distances)

A heavily modified stapler.
Cons: Next to real weapons it hits like a big mosquito, is useless against even reasonably thick clothing and it can barely go out beyond stonethrowing range and even there its accuracy is lousy.
Pros: lots and lots of ammo.
.32 pistol, just one bullet left, usually stored in an inside pocket of his labcoat

Jonathan was born in a village which was located next to a prewar industrial sector. While the factories had been silenced due to lack of raw materials, replacement parts and a lack of a market, the machinery proved to be a treasure trove for the postwar scavengers. Growing up amongst his peers, Jonathan learned what parts were salvageable, how to built crazy mechanisms out of random scrap and how to avoid getting his head cracked by an ancient steel press. Unfortunately, his own gang of scavengers weren’t the only ones interested in the plant as rival groups both from within the settlement and outside all tried to stake their claim. As a result, over the years the village shriveled till only a handful of survivors were left.

Not willing to stay and die for a lost cause, Jonathan simply gathered the few possessions he could carry, bid farewell to his contraptions and left. His travels led him to Megaton, where his skills as a mechanic were well appreciated. Still, he never quite liked the town and over the two decades he spent there he became increasingly bored. Not enough opportunity to get new toys to fix, as he’d always say. So when he heard of the small mercenary gang that was looking for some more hands, he joined up. In his mind, Coldshort’s Company offered the opportunity to find new mechanisms to tinker with and while anyone could shoot a gun, if no one was around to maintain them, they wouldn’t be shooting for long.

Name:Raymond Will




Appearance:wears the NCR Ranger Combat armor, with a 1st recon beret and authority glasses. Once had dark brown hair, but is turning grey, and is starting to show a few wrinkles, especially around his "Scope eye".

Skills: Small guns (high)
Melee weapons (Medium)
Sneak (Medium)
Repair (Low)
Explosives (low)

Weapons: A sniper Rifle with Carbon Fibre parts and Night scope.
A silenced .22 pistol
some frag grenades

History and background: Raymond grew up in a small town called Novac, learning the sniper trade from a young age. When his mentor died, He joined the NCR and after 20 years of service, retired for the life of a peace keeper at the age of 34. Once he finished his biography, he set for the central wasteland, hoping to find more work elsewhere. After a year of serving the citizens of Megaton, he enlisted for coldshort's company at the age of 40, wishing to still be of use until he meets his mentor again. Known as the "Grandpa" of the group, but his skills are still sharp.
Name: Laura Coldshort




Appearance: Shoulder length brown hair tied back into a short pony tail, she has pale skin and blue eyes. Her left arm is marked with a myriad of burns and small scars from an explosion in her childhood, though she's covered in small marks from general life in the wastes. She's built small, though that's not to be mistaken for weak, as almost all of it is muscle. She wears simple close fitting clothes, earthy brown in colour and made of resistant cloth. It doesn't offer any protection against bullets or knives, but it keeps her safe from the harsh terrain of the wastelands. She does however, wear a large pair of black military boots, thick soled with steel plates in soles. On the back of the boots in tiny lettering is the phrase "These boots were made for stompin'"

Skills:Barter High
Speechraft High
Demolitions medium
Small arms low

Weapons: She carries a magnum holstered at her hip, though she almost never remembers to load it. She carries with her a large selection of explosives, from grenades on belts across her chest to a satchel of demolition charges, she carries the basics of explosive production as well, in the forms of the various powders and volatile chemicals required, and has been known to jury rig almost anything to go boom.

History and Background: Laura grew up in a small mining town, providing precious coal to the local towns around it. Her parents were in charge of the explosives used for opening new tunnels, and Laura quickly grew into the trade. It was on a routine charge set that the town was attacked by raiders, being deep in the tunnels Laura was spared the initial assault, and after realising that fighting was her only escape, she booby trapped the labyrinth of mining tunnels she called home. For a week the raiders tried to flush her out, losing men and women with each doorway, tunnel and cave they searched. Eventually they cut their losses and ran. After spending some time to bury her family and friends in the mines, blowing the entrance closed with what little explosives she had, Laura left. She soon took shelter in an abandoned fort, driving off the local mole rats that inhabited it, and took herself to training from the instruction manuals that survived. Several years later, and with a stock of home made explosives, she began to ply her trade as a mercenary for hire, and eventually took on help, forming the mercenary company known as "Coldshort's Company".

Ok...let's just start with this...will be updated later

Name: Lexie (Alexandra) Grey

Age: 24

Role: medic, she is becoming a "doctor" mostly nuclear medicine, but also the regular thing, but she's still studying

Equipment: worn jeans, a green t-shirt, simple everyday clothing, a worn brown leather back pack which she never let out of sight!

Weapons(s): no weapons

Skills: medical skills, she's rather good at mechanical things as well.

Appearance: Slender, average height. Long soft brown hair. Hazel brown eyes (Picture will be posted)

Race: caucasian

History: will be posted later


Lord Revan
Name: Damon Wyeth
Sex: Male
Age: 31
Race: African American

Appearance: Damon stands at 5’5” (165 cm) and wears a sleeveless brown duster over a white turtleneck (similar to the Merc Cruiser Outfit), fingerless gloves, a dark brown scarf, elbow and knee pads, and a pair of combat boots. An eyepatch covers his right eye, which is a cybernetic implant, his left eye is brown while the implant is grey. He wears a coyote tan boonie hat to keep the sun off his face.

Repair (Low) Only maintaining firearms and disarming traps.
Survival (Medium)
Science (High) Damon's technical expertise is limited to manipulating software.
Sneak (Medium)
Small Arms (Medium)
Melee Weapons

M-16A2 (5.56mm NATO): selective-fire, Skeleton Stock, 20 round magazines with a GI web sling.
Wells-Fargo Schofield Revolver (.357 Magnum): 5 inch barrel, 6-Shot, top-breaking
Tactical Tomahawk: Parkerized finish, 12 3/4 inch overall length.
Gerber Mk I Knife: 4 3/4 inch blade, kept in his right boot

History: Wyeth was raised in the Commonwealth north of the Capital Wasteland. Up until his departure, Damon enjoyed a fairly high standard of living. His father, a security analyst, took him out hunting every other weekend. It was from these tours that Wyeth gleaned the survival skills that he used to track runaway synths for the Synth Retention Bureau.
When he joined the bureau, Damon believed runaways were merely malfunctioning. After eight years of hunting them down, he learned the truth. During a hunt, Wyeth encountered a female Railroader sheltering his target. At first the woman's defense of synth self-determination only frustrated him and his partner. But as the night wore on, the two SRB agents noticed that the Railroader did not appear to be folding in spite of the pressure. Suspicious of her fortitude, Damon's partner struck her on the back of the head. The blow revealed that the woman was in fact a synth herself.
Although they took her back to the Institute and gleaned from her the location of their initial target, Damon couldn't shake the fact that this synth had thrived in her community. If runaways really were perilously disfunctional, then how could one lead a succesful life among people revealing its identity? Shaken by this revelation, Wyeth left the Commonwealth to leave the dilema behind him.
In time, the former hunter found his way south to the Capital Wasteland. His expertise at tracking and investigation serves him well as a hunter of raiders, those whom survive by pillaging others. At the present, Damon Wyeth is cooling down in Megaton between hunting expeditions.
^.^ Re-posting on the proper thread.

Name: Chris 'Callsign: Mongoose'

Gender: Man

Age: 21

Profession: Recreational Hunter/ pre-postwar N.R.A(National rifle assiciation) enthusiast

Appearance: 5'11/184lbs. I got a dusty brown shade to my helmet-hair style cut. Before, i used to assume that i was of spanish origin, but DNA evidince shows that I am actually hawaiian. Go figure. Sometimes, i like to tell people that my eyes are coffee, but everyone ive met thus far tells me that i got hazel eyes. I aint got no tattoos, but i did burn a smiley face between my right thumb and index finger.

I usualy carry an old desert boonie, or on cold days, ill throw a black beanie on. I would like to wear shorts, flip flops, and a tee, But this is the mojave. I normally wear my old set of desert fatigues, complete with cargo pockets.

My set of old desert boots get me by, as long as I got some place to change or wash my socks. Foot care is the best care, i say.

I have a load bearing vest, to carry my ammo and immidate equipment. Sometimes i carry jerky in my pouches. I also got an old A.L.I.C.E pack i got from a former co-worker. Oh! And i also have a 3 point sling i can attach to any carbine weapon i can get my hands on.

Recently, I got my hands on a ceramic plated facemask i ripped off a legionaire, and some shades. After trippin off some funky cactus water, i ended up drawing on the mask. Im sure i got messed up and drew some pink, marilyn monroe lips pressed against a......I'll let you see that for your self.

Skills: I'm a great shooter. Love huntin' and trackin. I can treat basic injuries, and i got a bit of shock trauma trainin' from back in the NCR. I can operate, clean, and repair most foreign and domestic firearms, but i got no understandin of energy weapons. If worst comes to worst, im trained in bayonet and knife fighting.

Weapons: I snagged me an m14, with the lighter aluminum Enhanced-Battle-Rifle body, with the colapseable buttstock. I managed to snag me some flip-up ironsights, and a 4x16 huntin scope. It's great for long distance as well as close quarters; As it is selective fire capable. I got me an old OKC-3S bayonet, and it still cuts great. As my sidearm, i got me a trusty ol' 1911 .45. fixed it up with some re-enforced springs, lightweight trigger, for more sensitive pull, and a shaved grip to evenly switch between my knife and pistol. Yep.....good ol shootin.

History and Background: Hmm. Well. i aint much for talkin bout my past. But i will say that i didnt exactly serve with the mainstream military. I'm originally from north-eastern california, boardering the corners of nevada and oregon. I was taken by some government bigwigs, along with others trained like me, and sheltered in an unmarked vault. I still wonder bout' it. But in reality, im just glad we were released from the vault. The ranges we got to shoot on got all to familiar after living down there. Dont think i got any family. But the director of the vault was my surrogate father for the duration of my vault days. He trained me how to shoot properly for both competition; as we did compete in the vault, and for combat/defensive purpose.

-For the most part, im pretty competent in combat, survival, observation/monitoring and as well as shock-trauma treatment. Give me an order, or a request, and i'll get it done fast, and done right. Please help me find purpose, or atleast a means to eat, and ill scratch your back. Y'all have a good one, ya hear?
Name: Brian Wolfe
Race: Ghoul
Gender: Male
Age: 139

Height: 6’
Hair Color: None
Hair Style: None
Skin Color: Green mostly.
Eye Color: Blue
General Appearance: A tall, ghoul in purple robes which he keeps the hood up in.

Class-Type: Doctor

Weapon(s): Glock 86 Plasma Pistol (one-hundred small energy cells)
Armor: Purple Robes
Medical: Surgeon’s Kit, First-Aid Kit, Five Stimpacks.
Literature: Doctrines of the Children of the Cathedral, Journal
Misc.: A necklace with one of the Children of the Cathedral Badges in it.
Nuka-Cola Bottle Caps: One-hundred, fifty-two (152)

Biography: Born in the Hub in 2141, he never truly fit in. He was always one of the smarter kids. He never truly made any friends with anyone. It was rare to see him without his nose in a book or taking small objects apart, only to put them back together.

When a member of the Children of Cathedral came to the Hub, he was quickly recruited into it. His faith in the Master was unquestionable. It was due to this that he quickly raised in rank.

He quickly became one of the favored initiates of Father Lasher and was often considered to be a gift of the Master due to his disciplined and pious nature. Within a year, he was already a Scholar which was when he was sent to the Hub.

Many came to him, recognizing the familiar face, but seeing how much it had changed. His eyes no longer showed fear and contempt for the denizens of the Hub, but joy and hope. Several of the people he knew as he grew up joined the Children of the Cathedral after seeing his transformation.

It was when he was called to return a year later that he was granted an audience with Father Morpheus, the leader of the Children of the Cathedral. It was then that he rose in rank to a Servitor. By that time, the year was 2158; he was merely seventeen years old. He was the youngest Servitor to ever serve the Children of the Cathedral.

He was given a Plasma Pistol and returned his old, tan robes for the purple robes of a servitor. However, this promotion came with a reward. Father Morpheus took him into the hidden vault beneath the Cathedral to meet the Master in person.
The Master smiled at the sight of his new servitor and blessed him. After which, he and Father Morpheus left the Vault and returned to the Cathedral. With a smile and a bright future that he could foresee, he was sent to Necropolis to lead the Super Mutants in their search for pure-strain humans for dipping.

He met the leader of the Ghouls, a man named, “Set”. What started out as mutual distrust slowly turned into barely contained hostility. Set only didn’t attack, because he knew the Super Mutants could wipe them out easily with their energy weapons and big guns. Brian didn’t attack, because he knew these ghouls were serving as lookouts for Pure-Strain Humans.

About three years later, a Super Mutant with little intelligence by the name of “Harry” had a message from Morpheus ordering that he return to the Cathedral and surrender the post to Harry. Obediently, he returned to the Chapel.

When he returned after two weeks of walking, he found Father Morpheus waiting. He warned of a pure-strain human, known as the ‘Vault Dweller’ killing Super Mutants. Brian was ordered to stay at the Cathedral, ready to defend. For a month, there was no word of the Vault Dweller.

However, a month later a super mutant with a burned off arm and a missing eye (the arm was clearly burned off with plasma) arrived at the Cathedral. Father Morpheus got word from the wounded Super Mutant that the Vault Dweller had destroyed the FEV Vats in Mariposa and killed the Lieutenant.

Father Morpheus cunningly had each of the Initiates armed so that when the Vault Dweller would attack the Cathedral, he’d be ambushed by what he thought would be unarmed disciples. A week after, he arrived. Father Morpheus ordered Wolfe to head for the area around the Cathedral to serve as a lookout for anymore.

Forty-five minutes later he heard a loud, echoing sonic boom that knocked him into unconsciousness. When he woke up later in the Followers of the Apocalypse Headquarters in Adytum, he looked in a mirror to see his new form. He not only looked like a ghoul, he was a ghoul…

He hastily left Adytum and went north. For years, he wandered from town-to-town, never truly finding a home. With each passing day, he would pray that one day the Master would return and speak to him again. After many years, he settled down in the town of Gecko.

He met with an FEV Mutant named, “Harold” who told him stories of a man named Richard Grey. Eventually, he left for the town of Broken Hills. It was there he met a Super Mutant named, “Marcus”, one of the ones he met in Necropolis so many years ago.

It was there he reintroduced the faith in the Master. Many Super Mutants were quick converts. Several ghouls and only a single human heard his teachings. However, when he moved on so did their faith in the Master.

Over the years, he learned to accept that faith in the Master was lost… He acknowledged that the Master’s faith was gone; he did not lose faith in him. Brian would always pray to the Master, wherever the Master had gone.

He would selflessly heal the sick and the weak, asking for nothing in return, except for them to return the kindness to their fellow people. Although he aspires to one day resurrect the teachings of the Under-God, Brian accepts that the day the Children of the Cathedral are reborn may never come…
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