the Cast

[King of Sand]

Please post your character description here.

[Eurus]

Professor Neil Lufman
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White human male
Twenty-six years old
Fairly short and thin
Hair is bright red, and pulled back in a ponytail, eyes are brown and situated behind a pair of perpetually crooked wire-rimmed glasses with rectangular lenses
Currently wearing brown slacks, a white shirt, and a white lab coat (his only set of clothes at the moment)
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Neil was born in the Segment of the Dancer, and his favorite icon is the Gambler.
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Background coming soon
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Professor Lufman has:

The strength of a scholar (d20)
The clumsiness of a one-winged bird (d20)
A surprisingly strong constitution (probably to compensate for his awful luck, or he probably wouldn't still be around...) (d8)
Surprisingly little knowledge of the world in general (d20)
Bizarrely strong sanity despite his odd behavior, due to his exceptional mental and emotional resilience (d6)
Average perception (d12)
Incredibly bad luck (d30)
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Professor Lufman is:

A student of all of the physical and biological sciences, as well as mathematics (d8)
Not a medical doctor, but knows enough about physiology to fake it well enough in a pinch (d12)
Not very good at making his way in the wild (d20)
Somewhat cute, in a nerdy way (d12)
Not artistic at all (d30)
Not a good driver (d20)
A poor shot (d20)
Reluctant, unskilled, and generally bad in a fight (d30)
Not really a "practical" mechanic (d20), but disturbingly skilled at the building of unusual and frequently dangerous contraptions -- anything from an automatic laser turret to high explosives -- with only improvised materials (d8). They tend to either work great, or backfire completely.
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Professor Luffman was recently robbed, and thus possesses very little:

The clothes on his back,
A necklace with the icon of the Gambler,
A few (mostly) empty vials and test tubes,
Scraps of paper and pens, partially covered in scribbled notes,
And nothing else.

[GM Juggernaut]

ok added a few things and streamlined the (after looking over Eurus's sheet) although it shouldn't matter too much. wasn't sure if I needed luck so just added it anyways

Hissak T'ska
~~~~~
H'ruk Male(?)
57 cycles
3'11" long (excluding tail he is about 2'9" long)
average build for a H'ruk
Scales are a mottled rust color while the eyes are a brilliant yellow (although it would take a magnifying glass to see the iris)
Currently wearing a set of Kevlar patchwork H'ruk clothes, a H'ruk tool kit belt, and a H'ruk multi-prupose mask
~~~~~
Hissak T'ska doesn't know about the Icons and as such has no clue which one he was born under and certainly none that he favors.
~~~~~
Hissak T'ska, like all H'ruk, was born into a family of junk scavangers and would likely end up dying as one eventually. But unlike many of his peers, Hissak always haqd a dream of seeing where the tall aliens who came to the planet to trade came from. Of course the elders spoke of monsters and horrors that would eat small children (which even at age 57, Hissak is still considered by his species). But even though he continued to learn the art of repairing complex machinery, Hissak always wanted to leave the rather depressing wastes of his planet and find out what lay beyond.
As of now Hissak is a fairly accomplished mechanic even for his species and lives in one of the more active colonies that consists of several extended families living in several human built prefabricated housing units that have been converted into a multi-level village. He is known for being fairly mischievious but always extremely loyal to his friends and allies.
~~~~~
Hissak T'ska has:

The strength of a 2 foot long lizard (d30)
The outrageous agility of a 2 foot long lizard with a prehensile tail (d6)
The average health of a saurian (d12)
The below average general knowledge of a tribal (d20)
The perception of a hawk (d8)
The above average luck for one who doesn't even know about the Gambler (d10)
~~~~~
Hissak T'ska is:

An extremely skilled machanic (d6)
Adept in the use of his defensive claws (d10)
A pathetic swimmer (d30)
An amazing driver among his species, but rather average compared to larger species (d12)
An adorable little lizard thingy (d8)
Barely able to carry a human built blaster, much less shoot it (d30)
Can use small or miniturized weapons but not overly well (d12)
Not overly artistic (d20) unless its art made from scrap metal or junk (d10)
Moderately good at surviving in the wild (d12)
No medic (d30)
The owner of a nasty bite that can chew steel (d8)
~~~~~
Hissak T'ska Possesses:

H'ruk multi-purpose tool (looks like a couple of pieces of scrap bolted, welded, and tied together but it covers many of the major tools and several of H'ruk origin)
Kevlar patchwork H'ruk clothes (made from pieces of salvaged kevlar fabric. It is meant to protect against both the occasional attack from local wild-life and malfunctioning machinery. also includes a set of gloves for his second and third set of limbs. The gloves leave the claws exposed for better gripping)
H'ruk tool kit belt (covers just about anything the multi-purpose took doesn't. It even has a small laser welding torch that could theoreticly be turned into a weapon)
H'ruk multi-purpose mask (meant to protect during weilding and also has a small gas mask for scavenging in the more toxic areas of the planet.)

[DM Vexsom]

John ‘Rix’ Gerald

--+--+--+--+--+--
Rix looks…

<White Male>
<26 years old>
<5’8” tall>
<119 lbs>
<Thin lanky body type>
<Long dreaded black hair, dull green eyes, and heavily tanned crisp skin>
<Many of his teeth have become strangely sharp>
<Wearing a heavily patched black coat and worn out sneakers>

--+--+--+--+--+--
Rixs Once Upon a Time…

Rix doesn’t remember being born on a far off world. He doesn’t remember that when he was four he was kidnapped in a ransom scheme. He also doesn’t remember being put in the wrong shipping crate and ending up getting sent to this filthy garbage planet. He does remember, though, the kindly old junk troller who raised him until he was 9 before being killed in a terrible accident. He does remember living almost completely alone in the wasteland from that day forward. He even remembers the familiar sensation of radiation sickness and gradual pains of growing up in hell.

He has lived the last 17 years on his own in spite of all the things that hampered him. He has learned through trial and error how to find good things for trade and how to handle himself when trades go terribly wrong. While his skin gradually turned crisp from constant sun exposure he couldn’t feel the change in it’s texture to something more like chitin. With his teeth eager to latch onto any sustenance he didn’t realize that his ability to eat what others couldn’t and tear like a dog into the creatures of the waste spiraled up. With every fall and trade for medical attention he slowly came to notice his bones becoming stronger and the resistance of his constitution grow.

Over time he has developed symptoms of schizophrenia, but the bugs that seem to follow him could just as easily be real. It is his growing paranoia in solitude that resulted in him firing off the rest of his bullets and heaving his revolver at what turned out to be a puddle of battery acid. Fortunately, he can control himself quite well around others and it is others he seeks. He has spent enough time on his own and has decided that it would be better (and more fun) to seek out individuals to ‘befriend’.

--+--+--+--+--+--
Rix has…

The strength of an average bar patron (d12)
The agility of a trained boxer (d8)
The health of a cockroach (d6)
The Knowledge of a vagabond (d10)
The perception of a raccoon chasing tin foil off a cliff (d30)
The luck of a bum (d20)

--+--+--+--+--+--
Rix is…

As charming as a lunatic (d20)
As intimidating as a lunatic (d10)
Death to technology (d30)
Death to anyone who thinks he can drive or pilot (d20)
Highly resilient in any environment (d6)
A great scavenger (d10)
Adept with all forms of melee weapon (d8)
A decent shot with a gun (d12)
More likely to play with your funny bone than patch you up (d30)
An athlete (d10)
An escape artist of sorts (d10)
A mystifyingly skilled trader (d8)

--+--+--+--+--+--
Rix currently possess…

A rusty pair of miniature bolt cutters,
One old police baton,
A rusty broken machete,
Six throwing knives,
An arm length of wire,
A leather backpack full of strange rations mingled with junk odds and ends,
A canteen of putrid distilled beer,
A canteen of equally putrid water,
And a small pouch of various precious metals for trade.

[Buddha]

ARM-7 (Automated Repair and Medical unit – mk 7)

Robot
Unknown age
Six feet tall, treaded all terrain droid.
Extremely heavy looking, thick metal torso section with four retractable arms/multi-tools.
Metal is somewhat rusted and droid appears old, but functional.
Humanoid head with glowing red eyes.

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The ARM-7 doesn’t pay attention to foolish human superstitions and cares only for its work.

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ARM-7 activated one day deep in a pile of scrap, only partially functioning and with a power cell that was moments away from depletion. After a quick self-diagnostic, it realized his entire personal memory core had been purged; it had no recollection of who built it or for what purpose. Indeed, how long it had been inactive was also unknown – what jarred it to life was a sudden sharp movement as a mechanical arm tore into garbage metal only feet away; jostling ARM-7 just enough that it rebooted. Clawing its way out of the scrap heap, ARM-7 swapped out his internal battery for another ruined droid’s and begun putting himself back together. Without programming directive, the machine had little to do but start wandering around the scrap yard; fixing everything it could find.

Sometime later, a band of privateers were wandering through the garbage-wastes and stumbled across this curiosity. Coming into range of its sensors, ARM-7 detected one of them had a broken rib from some previous bar brawl, it rushed over and without the man’s consent injected him with painkillers and began surgery. Surprised but pleased by the robot’s skill, they asked it who its owner was, but it politely replied it had no designated owner. Asking if it would like to come with them, it replied ‘no’. Machines don’t ‘want’ anything. They then told ARM-7 to come along, and being the only humans in the area, it complied and followed along. To this day, it follows those same people, fixing whatever needs fixing, or healing the injured.

Abilities:
Has pneumatic arms, go figure. (Strength: d6)
Clunks along like an old tank (Agility: d30)
Is made of metal (Health: d6)
Blank Slate (Knowledge: d30)
Built in sensors (Perception: d8)
Woke up broken in a scrap yard, how lucky do you think he is? (Luck: d20)

Skills:
A “born” engineer (d8)
An expert Surgeon (d6)
Death with a blade (d8)
Doesn’t ‘hack’ computers, it converses with them (d8)
No piloting protocols (d30)
Sinks, doesn’t swim (d30)
Can’t hold most guns, let alone fire them (d20)
No environment it can’t handle (d6)
Doesn’t understand the word ‘stealth’ (d20)
Charming as a carburetor (d30)

Inventory:
Integrated Systems
- 360˚ Full Sensor Array (EM, Chemical, Particle, Motion, etc)
- Com-link
- Magnetic treads
- Universal Translator
- Multi-tools (Fusion cutter, Hyperspanner, etc)
- Medical Implements (scalpels, drugs, auto-suture)

[White Tiger]

Presenting,

Raziel "Red Tiger" Dallas
~~~~~
Human Dude
23 years old
5'10'' tall (6'4 if you include the hair)
Athletically built
Has spiky red hair that stands about half a foot from his head
Has scars on his face that oddly look like stripes, giving him an animalistic look
Wears a beaten dark-colored military uniform of obscure origin
~~~~~
They say human will has no limits. Certainly, Raziel Dallas, a.k.a The Red Tiger, has set it for himself to test this theory.

Born to boring parents in a boring city, Raziel was a very hyperactive child, dangerously so in fact. He was also dangerously curious. In a word, a tiny disaster.

He narrowly avoided certain death countless times while growing up, until eventually it became a habit of his to do dangerous things just for the heck of it.

As a more serious follow-up to this habit, he joined the military as a test pilot for some weird technology. He soon made a name for himself as a reckless, foolhardy man who likes to make wagers on his wellbeing and really can't hold his drinks.

What a great way to end up on this piece of crap planet...
~~~~~
Red Tiger has:

The strength of a man who often gets angry (d8)
The agility of a raging bull (d20)
The health of a guy who took more than one beating in his life (d10)
The knowledge of someone who really doesn't care about knowledge (d30)
The perception of someone who likes hitting things with his head (d12)
The luck of someone who really should be dead by now. Really. (d6)
~~~~~
Red Tiger is:

A military pilot who doesn't pay attention in class (d20)
But gets machines to work for him anyway (d8)
In the possession of some basic first aid knowledge (d12)
As disciplined as a drunkard (d30)
A really average mechanic (d12)
A "great" cook (d20)
Surprisingly good with blunt weapons (d10)
As well as his fists (d8)
But not as good with guns (d12)
And don't even think about giving him grenades (d20)
Quite handsome (d10)
For someone with anger management issues (d20)
Fearless (d8)
Loud (d10)

~~~~~
Red Tiger Possesses:

A backpack
An empty bottle of beer
An empty wallet
A military helmet
A military-issue multi-purpose computer jack thing
A tazer
A handgun
A long stick
FIGHTING SPIRIT!!!