Sinharat: Difference between revisions
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(Other sections soon to follow, just wanted to get a page up.) | (Other sections soon to follow, just wanted to get a page up.) | ||
==Background== | |||
Sinharat was born to slaves whose parents were slaves alike. His lineage had known nothing else for many generations. One of the many families destined to endlessly till the soils of Great Forks' vast opium fields, there seemed no remorse to an aging Sinharat, living out his mortal years beaten, abused, and made to carry out backbreaking work with little reward. It was a fateful night, during Calibration, that things changed. The air was damp with the day's rain, and the fields were too soaked for work to carry on. Sinharat's master had decided that there was little point to continuing work that night. As the slave driver was rounding up the slaves from the field, most of them chained together by steel collars, something in Sinharat changed. Suddenly, he was possessed of a primal rage. He decided at that moment that no man would be his master. He decided the men with whom he worked had seen enough of this torment, and that every man should breathe and act of his own accord. He did not act immediately, but the rage stewed, slowly, over the hour. He could feel it build as the slaveowners gathered their herds, converging at an intersection of two larger fields, preparing to make the trip back as a collective unit. |
Revision as of 23:56, 17 January 2008
Basic Info
Name: Sinharat (Sin, for short)
Player: Dan H.
Caste: Night
Concept: Vigilante/Freedom fighter
Political Affiliation: Self (Fond of Silver Pact ideals, to an extent)
Anima: Jackal
Motivation: Bring the freedom of choice to those who are oppressed and robbed of it
Weapon of Choice: Anything looting from a corpse or plucked from surroundings.
Armor of Choice: Chain Shirt
Fighting Style: Quick, brutal, random
(Other sections soon to follow, just wanted to get a page up.)
Background
Sinharat was born to slaves whose parents were slaves alike. His lineage had known nothing else for many generations. One of the many families destined to endlessly till the soils of Great Forks' vast opium fields, there seemed no remorse to an aging Sinharat, living out his mortal years beaten, abused, and made to carry out backbreaking work with little reward. It was a fateful night, during Calibration, that things changed. The air was damp with the day's rain, and the fields were too soaked for work to carry on. Sinharat's master had decided that there was little point to continuing work that night. As the slave driver was rounding up the slaves from the field, most of them chained together by steel collars, something in Sinharat changed. Suddenly, he was possessed of a primal rage. He decided at that moment that no man would be his master. He decided the men with whom he worked had seen enough of this torment, and that every man should breathe and act of his own accord. He did not act immediately, but the rage stewed, slowly, over the hour. He could feel it build as the slaveowners gathered their herds, converging at an intersection of two larger fields, preparing to make the trip back as a collective unit.