Welcome to Gaia! ::

Name- Nezumi
Age- 28
Weapons- A M16 A2, a small buck pocket knife, and a five-seveN tactical pistol.
Appearance- Just over five foot and average build she's easily over-looked. She has light brown hair and green eyes. Her clothing is practical, usually wearing a Black short-sleeve shirt, blue or black jeans and a pair of black lace-up boots.
Other- She is competent in quite a few weapons but, prefers using the ones listed above. Fairly good at hand to hand combat, she owes it mostly to getting in too many fights as a child.
Bio- Her parents were military people and she likely to follow their footsteps and she did for a while, joining the military at 17. The military how ever was nothing like the glorious child-hood tales she knew. With a heavy heart she quit the army leaving with an Honorable discharge. Still a fighter she banded together with a few people of her mindset to create a fighting force of their own. It was dubbed the Black Templars and the rest is history.

Name- Xenos Mortium
Age- 38
Weapons- Franchi SPAS 15, CZ-75, also seen with Dragunov or AKS-74
Appearance- Standing a little below six foot and weighing about 160, Xenos is quite muscular for his light frame. He has silky black hair with wisps of white within it and two colored eyes, one light blue, the other light green. He wears khaki military garb, including an officers cap, as well as black combat boots, leather gloves, and a camouflaged cloak, which uses receptor cells to blend into the ambient light that it receives, adapting to environment. Also seen using a gasmask, bullet proof vest, visor, and helmet.
Other- Has studied in Aikido and Kenpo, making him a formidable opponent in close quarters. Also, he has been in innumerable gunfights, as well wearing a trench coat in actual trench warfare.
Bio- Xenos has worked as an assassin, hitman, mercenary, soldier, and professional thief for over twenty years, and thusly knows what he's doing. He doesn't try to hide his past, but nor does he brag about it or blazon it in front of him, to try to make himself feel important. Though not shrouded in mystery, he has only recently come to the land of Gaia and had little work here, mainly in the Brotherhood of Steel, the GFA and a would be mafia.
RP Sample-Hell, this is long enough as it is. And if you're in the guild, you'll see my handiwork sooner or later.

Name- Brian Landry
Age- 25
Weapons- Spectre M4, Beretta M9, combat knives
Appearance- Brown hair, black clothes...the avatar mostly
Other- Is used to being a type of security in every company he has worked at.
Bio- He has been working at many companies as security and any military personnel. His places are the BoS, DHL, Veritas, Inc., AGC, and Crying Eye Runic Hunters.
RP Sample- ]http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=8538735&page2

Name- Gunther Valian
Age- 23
Weapons- Desert Eagle, Revolver, Battleknife
Appearance- Silver hair and piercing gray eyes. He wears loose fit black clothing appropriate for any mission involving stealth or not involving stealth.
Other- Gunther is an ex-member of the GFA, where he also served alongside of Xenos and Himi. Gunther is naturally cocky, but he doesn't let it interfere when it comes to taking orders and getting the job done.
Bio- Gunther cannot remember anything before 5 years ago due to an accident involving a large explosion. He keeps to himself most of the time, careful not to let anyone get to know him on a personal level other than the one he loves, Uxinta Kaze.
RP Sample- Gunther's silver orbs peered in silence from the cover of an old crate. He didn't make a move as the guard stood at the back entrance, careful to duck when he looked his way. Darting off to the side as the guard's head turned away once more, Gunther muffled the guard's mouth with his left hand, slitting his throat with his battleknife with the other. He held the guard for a moment until he choked on his own blood and death overcame him. Dragging the guard off to the side he proceeded into the building after taking the guard's security clearance. Yet another easy kill to claim as his own.

Name- Alucard
Age- 23
Weapons- OICW, 2 Desert Eagles
Appearance- About 6 foot 2 and very persistent. He has a silver-ish hair color and red eyes.
Other- Always carries at least one of his weapons with him unless he's in a "non-armed area". His last camouflage was stolen so he's saving up money to get new ones.
Bio- Abandoned at age 14, he wandered into an American military outpost. He learned the tools of the trade. After the army he when off on his own for awhile. He then met up with Col. Mortium in the GFA and now lies in the Black Templars mercenary division
RP Sample- After many hours of sitting on top of the building, he finally saw his target. He carefully waited for the PERFECT moment to let the bullet fly. The man, whose name he never was aloud to know, ate his breakfast......afterwards he dropped to the ground. Alucard let the man have one last meal! When he got to the extraction point he found out......the man was his father!!!!! His father was the leader of the very source Alucard was after...who would have knew?

Name- Nom Anor
Age- 28
Weapons- MP7, glock 18, SPAS-12 shotgun.
Appearance- black pants, black shirt, dark boots, vest with pockets to carry ammo, supplies and such. also carries a gas mask, helmet and night vision goggles.
Bio- Was raised in the US all his life, joined the army when he turned twenty. After four years of petty civil wars he and his unit were sent to help Nom quit the army and wondered the world until hearing rumors about the Black Templars, hoping to join them.
RP Sample- Nom slowly climbed up the stairs of the empty house, sweeping each room MP7 in hand. Soon he was outside on the balcony of the second floor. It was dark out, the night vision goggles he was wearing showed the two other members of his team in position on rooftops, rifles ready to rain hell on anyone who came near them. Pulling out a MRE to snack on, he would have to wait for their target to show up now.

Name- Carlos Sanchez
Age- 24
Weapons- Dual .9 mm, dagger
Appearance- 5'8" with tanned skin. Dark brown eyes usually mistaken as black. Lean build. Fine brown hair combed smooth to the sides.
Other- Quick, limber, immense computer knowledge
Bio- Carlos grew up as a military brat, when the military composed of soldiers from the country. With a stern father he was pushed to be a 'great' soldier. Being lean and not too muscular, he was a disgrace in his father's eyes. Carlos trained in computer knowledge when his father wasn't around. He became a great programmer before his father found out. Upon this discovery he was outcast, since then Carlos has been trying to gain back the respect in his father's eyes. Fighting for honor and glory, he became known as El Cid amongst his squad. He is now requesting a transfer to the Black Templars. Hoping to get back his respect by joining the most elite soldiers around.
RP Sample- http://tinyurl.com/akbyg

Player Name:Hank 'Sgt. Rock' Rock
Age: 41
Sex: Male
Firearms:
FN Minimi SPW (M249 SAW)
Bren Ten-hand gun
M4A1 Carbine/ Assault Rifle
Spectre M4-smg
Thompson M1-smg
Appearance:
Rp Sample: Rock stood grinning with his back up against wall with near finished cigar hangin' from the corner of his mouth. "...Well you dirty sons of bitches.." he says to himself "...ya's done got me down to a bare minimum and I don't take to kindly that.". With his M249 SAW in hand, he spins around into the open doorway of this old sod/clay house he's in right index finger squeezing the trigger, now holding the SAW at hip level laying down heavy fire like one of those heros in an action movie(sure a majority of the round miss but still good); bodies fall as rounds tear through'em and others hide behind objects. As the SAW runs dry he curses and tosses it down having no use for it. He draws his last resort Bren Ten & jumps back behind the wall again scanning for a possible exit. He spots a window, runs n' dives through it hitting the ground with a roll, springing back up to his feet and makes a mad dash out of the area. "...I hate to fall back. Damn asswipes..." he says this while sprinting to safety.

Name- Kirshbia Lenthgeod
Age- 21
Weapons- USP elite .45, M1911A1(Dual wielded if needed), and M16 Carbine
Appearance- He has mildly tanned skin, somewhat long braided black hair, and deep blue eyes. He wears a type of suit that was intertwined with interceptor body armor in which in a much powerful body armor then is police counterpart it was tested to survive a .50 cal shot along with a .357 round and the test subject survived with only a large bruise and one received a broken rib.(Not only to mention that but its a bit stylish aligned with his suit.
Bio- (Work in progress) Kirshbia was Leons childhood friend knew him since middle school grew up in a small town with Leon and joined up with the family syndicate with him.
RP Sample- Kirshbia laid back into his chair inside his house a man hand cuffed to a arm chair stand in his kitchen with a 45. USP elite in his hand Kirshbia pulled back clocking it the gun became hot(meaning there’s a bullet in the chamber) and pointed at the unknown mans head and pulled the trigger the a .45 round ejected from the barrel and blew the mans face in two a slight grin came across Kirshbias face "Some people need to learn talking is better.'

Name- Fina Xanth
Age- 23
Weapons- Dual Colt .45's and 1 Combat Knife with a loop on the handle for the index finger.
Appearance- Some might say she's easy on the eyes. She looks young, and quite fit. Not at all out of shape, those that know her might say, or know how she looks when she's not completely covered by the black she usually wears. Her clothing consists of black pants, a black button up shirt, a black trench and a pair of boots. Her hair was blonde, flowing down her back as she hardly got it cut; no need to. Besides... If it helps when she needs deception on her side, why cut it?
http://tinypic.com/e6q4ci.jpg
Other- Every once in a while she might carry a grenade, but it will be mentioned beforehand that she has stuffed a grenade into her pocket or something
Bio- Fina's life was rather easy... in the early stages. She began elementary.. then middle. And then her parents disappeared. Not dead, she knew, as she was sent to military school, per their instructions. She never did find out where they went off to. In either case, she went through military school, and became physically fit, very quickly. Not only did she train her body and mind there, but soon after she would join the military. In the military she was assigned to infantry. 2 years later she joined a spec ops team. The team did missions quickly and efficiently, until one time they ran into more than they could handle. Fina became a prisoner of war for a month, before finally she was broken out. The rest of her team was killed in the rescue attempt.
Having left the military, Fina tried to get used to normal life... but found that she was quickly becoming restless. She couldn't get any jobs, and didn't really want the jobs she applied for... Eventually, she went looking for a job... more like her old one...
RP Sample- Fina looked to the man opposing her, frowning. She didn't know what the big deal was, but the sight of that gun really put her on edge. She was ready when the movement happened. His hand moved down towards the gun, and she just acted by reflex. Her hand came to her waist, grasping her Colt .45 handgun, pushing away from the bar with her leg as she saw the gun raise from the holster to aim at her. As the mans shot was fired, her side received a nice scrape from the bullet of that revolver, meanwhile she extended her gunweilding hand; her right hand, up to point the barrel of it right up towards the mans face. Sure that she would hit his head, especially at this range, with him just down the the bar a stool or two, she suppressed the trigger, letting a single bullet out.

Name: Balquo DeJuin (Bal to some, but he gets irritated when people use his familiar in patronization)
Age: 28 (DOB 12/17)
Weapons: M1 Garand, standard issue .30-06 , ?Iblis? Custom-built gun based on a M1911A1 Frame, firing .44 Magnum rounds. ?Veritas? Single-shot, break-open gun, firing .454 Casull, only used for targets considered ?worthy and honorable?
Appearance: At 6?2, broad of frame, and thick of body, Balquo is often compared to a bear. His hair is a shaggy, jaw length black-and-grey mess. (He can?t decide whether the grey makes him ?old? or ?distinguished?). He is usually unshaven, not out of intention, but forgetfulness. His eyes are a bright yellow, which tends to unnerve people, but that is more his gaze than his eyes themselves. His arms and shoulders are covered in scars, some concealed by the spiral-pattern tattoos that adorn his forearms.
Other: Wears all black, including an ankle-length trench coat, which is filled with innumerable pockets and a great deal of Kevlar and Class IV armor plating.
Bio: Born in Eastern Europe, to mercenary parents, Balquo has grown up in the trade. He has seen much violence, and much horror, but adheres to his personal honor and the belief that ?At the End of Days, we all pay our Debts.?
RP sample: Balquo gently eased open the Cathedral?s tall oak door, sliding into the silent stone building. He walked slowly up the aisle, making certain that his boots made scarcely a sound on the marble. He turned into a small alcove, little more than a hole in the wall, with a rack for votive candles and a shrine for offerings. He lit the single candle in its ruby-colored glass, filling the space with crimson light. Pulling a single long, silver bullet from his coat, he placed it on the altar with a reverent sort of tenderness.

Name- Nysse Richardsdottier
Age- 26
Weapons- Beretta 98 Combat pistol and various knives.
Appearance- She is about 5'4" with long blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail and bright blue eyes. Her clothes are pretty average not bringing much attention to herself, usually just a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless shirt. She's slender without looking too thin with just enough tone for you to tell she's fit.
Other- She's kind of wild but, will do what she's told if it's important.
Bio- Nysse was born in Iceland were there is no standing military. She was well, a rather bad kid. Always getting into fights and mouthing off to teachers and one day all that changed. One of her friends was killed from some reckless decision that she had a part in making and she straightened out enough to get through school. Once out she was employed by the Americans in one of the many foreign army bases in her country at the age of 18. It most definitely wasn't what she needed and two years later she got out. Though the years she's had many jobs, reputable and otherwise, finally to find herself at the door of the Black Templars.
RP Sample- "Good night Jonathan" came Nysse's reply to the man's sharp comment. She decided to leave before her mouth got her in any more trouble. He moved faster than the woman gave a man his age credit for. His fist slammed into her jaw so fast she could barely see it coming and she spun down to the earth like a string cut puppet. For a few moments, which seemed like an eternity to the blonde, she couldn't do anything, even breathe. Then as fast as she could recover, she stood and put herself into a fighting stance and prepared for the worst. "You'll never learn, kid" said the man smirking as he took a stance of his own.

Name- Lance Phoenicia
Age- 23
Weapons- several; HVS mk. II (hyper velocity shrapnel (basically, a low-recoil shotgun SMG sweatdrop )), several standard-issue jovian flash-bangs/sonix grenades. (note; if these are not preferable for any reason I will gladly make some others ion their stead)
Appearance- Hazel brown eyes, medium-length clumped grey/silvery hair, pale complexion, 6 foot 2" tall, voice well suited to making grand speeches and war-cries.
Other- Suit of light powered armour, similar in size and apparent tech level as the trooper on the guild banner, allows for short-term survival in harsh environments, augmented communications, light anti-projectile protection and slight enhancements in physical speed/strength.
Bio- ex-member of SO 41, special ops group responsible for the protection of all major shipping lanes in the jovian sector.
RP Sample- As the rotten shadows parted and light came through stressed ceramic port holes, lance looked out again at the unimaginable carnage of the battle below. "So be it" he said softly, sighing as the ground rushed upwards to greet his small transport again. Regaining his voice, he shouted "alright men, turn up your weapons and bring your sensors online!! All hands brace for impact!!!" Breathing deeply, he let the rough jolt of his dropship's landing flow through him without disorientation. Silence. Then, what seemed like an eternity later, the door dropped to the twilight zone of the Martian capitol. Bellowing "CHARGE!!!" into the crampt compartment, he raised his weapon and led his squad out into eternity....

Name- Tatiyana Miroslava
Age- 36
Weapons- AK-74, Makarov
Appearance- Standing at about 5'6" and 140lbs, she has dull green eyes and silky dirty blonde hair, often half-way in a ponytail. Her skin is fair and complemented by black clothing, most often a large overcoat covering up all else.
Other- Quite odd, quite off. She acts upon random whims with no real basis in anything and feels herself too good to do most things. Oh, and has a heavy Russian accent.
Bio- She grew up in Russia, joining the KGB and performing any number of covert ops and such before the Soviet Union fell. Afterwards, she came to the United States and spent six years studying anything she could, before lusting once more for the smell of blood.
RP Sample- Tatiyana walked slowly down the hallway, placing one foot directly in front of the other, giving a great sway to her step, and arms crossed over each other, pressing a case close to her breast. Another man passed her, dressed in all white, glasses covering his eyes and a stethoscope around his neck. She was dressed quite similar to he, and he waved and said hello as he passed, and she back to him. At last though, she got where she wanted to, and shut the door behind herself. Placing the case carefully down on a desk, she withdrew the syringe, filled it with some strange liquid, and preceded to insert it into a mans arm. Once the syringe was empty, she placed it back in the case and kissed the man on the forehead. "Sweet dreams number five," she whispered, then took the case back to her chest and withdrew from the room.

Name-Zon Matsukai
Age-18
Weapons-Colt .45 Magnum, M16, bowie knife
Appearance-Dark, tall, and mysterious, he stands 6'5" tall and wears pretty much all black clothes. He is commonly seen in a black leather trench coat, loose black pants, and black biker boots. Also, he is sometimes seen wearing a greyish colored button up shirt or other type of shirt that is dark in color. He has mawline length raven black hair with red tips. He wears small sunglasses that cover about half of his piercing grey eyes, and his bangs cover the rest of them.
Other-Excels in hand-to-hand combat and long-range sniper attacks.
Bio-He grew up in a well-off family that lived in a "secure" neighborhood. When he was 15, ahis house was broken in to. The robbers killed both of his parents and made off with a lot of their valuables. Ever since then, he has lived on the streets, searching for ways to get back at the people that ruined his life.
RP Sample-http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=2030218

Name-Adam "Skyth" Johnson
Age- 34
Weapons- Combat Knife, Colt M1911A1 w/Silencer, M93 Black Arrow w/Silencer, MP5A3 w/Silencer
Appearance- Adam Johnson is 6' 2" and weighs 176 lbs. He has long, dark brown hair that hangs about two inches below his shoulders, and has light green eyes. He tends to wear a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and a tan jacket when off the job, and Urban Camo Jeans, a tight urban Camo long sleeved shirt, and a tactical combat vest when on the job. He also has a 3-inch long scar on his left arm from a half-inch deep knife cut.
Bio- Adam Johnson, born in Seattle, Washington, grew up rather privileged. His father, a hard working doctor, and his mother, a Lawyer, both took great care of him. That was until March 6th of the year of his 17th birthday, when everything crumbled to hell. Apparently, his father had been involved with the mafia in some way, and there was a hit on him. That night, a large van filled with Mafia members pulled up in front of his house. They walked up to the doorway, broke it down, and murdered both of his parents. He, on the other hand, was able to escape through his bedroom window. He then went into hiding, training with weapons to one day get back at this unknown mafia family. He now works for the Black Templars, attempting to find this family and kill every last one of them.
RP Sample- Adam stepped out from the van. Looking up into the cold, black night sky, he reached into his vest and pulled out a cigarette, putting to his mouth. He quickly lit it, took a puff, and pulled it away. He looked over to his partner on this job, smiling. "So, we've go to get into this facility, get the disk, and get out. Are we restricted from anything?". ((Not enough room to put a very large one))

Name-Shani Andras
Age-29
Weapons-Glock 18 [uses 31-round extended stock, firing jacketed, mercury-filled rounds; wirelessly linked to targeting system in helmet; holstered in chest bandolier, along with extra clips], compact shotgun [roughly 11 inches in length; utilizes various shells: Mg alloy flechettes laced with alpha-conotoxin, buckshot of various materials, various Mg rounds, fragmentary slugs; holds a total of 4 shells at once when fully-loaded; extra shells stored on bands around thighs and biceps, among other places; held in holster on right side of waist], and a large machete [sheathed on back; constructed of tungsten].
Appearance-Tall, roughly 6'3". Medium build, filled out with muscle but not to the point that it hinders movement. Green hair, just above chin length covering left eye. Glossy purple eyes. Scar running from left eye down to chin. The type of armor Shani wears is highly reminiscent of the combat armor found in Fallout 2, although the armor itself is far stronger through chemical hardening coupled with the use of stronger materials [the main material used in the armor is boron carbide]. The armor is basically impenetrable to melee weaponry, and durable against projectiles as well; some kinetic energy, however, is not blocked by the armor and is thus transferred to the wearer. The helmet of the armor contains sophisticated electronic sensory devices, as well [commlink, nightvision, infrared gear, along with auditory and visual enhancements].
Bio-It'd been quite a while since he'd been in an organization which felt right. He'd been in another for an extended period of time, several years, but it had never quite felt right. He'd eventually left that previous organization as the result of the surfacing of some bad blood the general held for him, deciding that he'd never really belonged there in the first place. He was a warrior by nature, not a protector; he wasn't trained as rigorously as a child as he was to become some kind of police officer. His distant past was a testament to his future. He'd been raised as a killer, trained in all aspects of warfare and put through harsh mental conditioning. There was only minor genetic modification, marginally-increased strength and immunity to most diseases the end result, he wasn't some abomination grown in a lab. But now he'd found a decent place, one where his skills could be put to good use.
RP sample- How many were there... 4, 5? He'd sensed the presences as soon as they'd begun to approach, although they'd obviously been trying to go about their actions with as much stealth as possible, and reasonably so since one of their stronger warriors had just died. It seemed that the demons were somewhat worried about his sudden death, too, to send in five. It was unlikely that all five would be on his list, but he'd probably end up killing them all anyways; demons were quite irrational when it came to deaths within their kind, even if this irrationality led to their own deaths. Of course, there were always some exceptions to such race generalizations. They most likely had no idea who they were going to be fighting, however, so there was the chance that they'd turn and run away when they found out... if he'd let them. It'd be good to be able to kill another of them on the list so quickly, without transporting anywhere else. He sat on the cycle still, pulling the gauss rifle off his shoulder and holding it in his right hand. He sped off, driving with his left hand alone, the right one on the large rifle, heading towards the other side of the town. He passed through the center on his way, speeding by but sensing a presence from before as he went. Whatever it was, it wasn't one of the incoming ones so it wasn't that important. He continued on, only to detect a presence above him. A flying enemy? He swerved out of his normal path and onto a sidestreet, now able to see the enemy through the 360-degree view his armor gave him. He activated the wireless uplink between the gauss rifle, still in his right hand, and the onboard computer belonging to his armor. He lifted the rifle up, turning another corner as the following enemy held onto his trail and went with him. As he turned the corner, he aimed at the enemy behind him with the rifle, firing just as it came around the corner. He nailed it, hitting the thing right in the wing. It fell, but not by any means peacefully; the thing shrieked as it fell, making impact with the sidewalk and tearing up the grass from a lawn it slid into. Shani pulled an abrupt stop on the cycle, swinging it around so that it faced the downed enemy. He virtually tossed the rifle back over his shoulder, as he dismounted and began walking towards the crash site. It was a pretty pitiful sight. The thing had torn up some of the pavement where it fell, most likely with its face, before plowing straight through a fence, then tearing up a significant amount of grass and dirt before it finally stopped in the middle of someone's lawn; whoever owned that property wasn't going to be very happy about the damages. The enemy was most likely one specialized for flight, which it would no longer be suited for due to the destruction of its wing courtesy of Shani's rifle. As he walked closer, he noticed that which proved his assumption wrong. The wings receded into the thing as it lay there on the lawn. Seemed it was still going to be able to put up some kind of fight, after all. Shani sensed its malicious intention, foreseeing its move. The thing leapt off the ground, covering a good deal of distance as it sent a flying kick in Shani's direction, to which he merely stepped to the side... at the same time drawing the schiavona from its sheath, tearing the blade up through the leg of the hapless enemy. Without its wings, it was completely unable to stop its descent through Shani's blade. With a flourish, Shani tore the blade through the rest of the demon's leg, up through its stomach as well, before it came out right around the armpit. He spun the blade's hilt in his hand, inversing his hold. He followed up the vicious destruction of the enemy's leg with a swift elbow from his left arm, which he spun into a right hook as he pivoted on his left foot into the enemy, sending it flying into a streetlight. Without changing his hold on the blade, he slid it back into its sheath and began moving towards the dying demon. "Well now", Shani said in a condescending tone, "I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name's Shani, and yours?" The realization seemed to hit the thing, its eyes suddenly focusing in on the words he'd just spoken. It seemed that it knew now who it was it'd been facing. The demon spoke, briefly, "heh... no wonder Ifrit died", before it slumped to the side, having bled out from the enormous wound given to it by Shani's schiavona coupled with the internal damaged caused by the powerful melee strikes it had been subjected to. Shani scanned over the list to see if this was one of those he'd been sent to kill. It wasn't. "Oh well", he said without concern, "at least I only wasted a single gauss round", before he got back on the cycle and began his way back to the warehouse. He'd decided; it wasn't any fun to fight these weaklings one at a time, he'd allow them all to come at him with a strategy. Maybe then they'd be entertaining.

Name- Michael J. Hunter
Age- 27
Weapons- Sniper Rifles(3), SMG(1), Pistols(2)(To be specified when I can get another good look at the weapons page.)
Appearance- He is a small man - not tiny in the sense of a midget, but only standing at about 5'4''. He has a very muscular build, and despite his short stature, he manages to keep in the 200-pound weight range. His raven hair is kept short - as per military regulations, and he normally wears Kevlar, dark camo pants and black combat boots.
Other- He is an expert sniper, beyond the level most would consider possible.
Bio- Michael was born in the country of Sweden, where he was exposed to violence at an early age via his father's criminal life. He learned to shoot almost as soon as he learned to walk, though he didn't get his hands on any serious weaponry until the age of nine, when he was presented with his first real rifle. He spent more time at the shooting range then he did at home after that, and it wasn't long before his name was greatly feared in the criminal underworld.

Bored with the simple life that entailed, Michael left his home for a military life at 18, where he became an elite Sniper, further hardened by real combat experience. He quickly became bored with the lack of live missions a peaceful country offered, and he quit that job as well.

It was through his criminal connections that he heard the name of the Black Templars. He immediately headed off to meet with them and join with them, if they would have him, brining all his weaponry along for the ride.
RP Sample- Every sniper has a breathing pattern they use to get more consistent results - especially at a range such as this - and Michael's was a very distinct one. He recalled it vividly as he lay on the rooftop perfectly hidden, his unaware enemy in the sniper's deadly sites. He steadied his gun and double-checked his aim one last time - being on target was largely a matter of patience from a mile and a quarter off.

He had to keep his cool; the slightest mistake made behind enemy lines usually meant you would soon be nothing more then a corpse. With that in mind, he was perfectly fine with taking his time on this shot, though in truth he knew very well that he didn't need it. Finally, the time was at hand. Here goes, he thought. half-breath in... half-breath ou-

BANG!

Michael didn't even register the thought as his finger gently pulled the trigger. The metal slug within erupted from the barrel, its casing ejecting from the side of the rifle. It sped faster then the human eye could follow through the air, its trajectory altered slightly by the wind. It was perfectly on target, sliding into the weak link of its target's body armor, up through the chest cavity, through bone and muscle and, finally, lodging itself deep in the heart of this poor man.

The shooter smirked as he watched blood erupting from the victim's mouth, a bit even oozing from his ears as he hit the floor, lifeless and cold. Michael waited silently; that was all he had to do now- wait for his enemies to quiet down and spread out in their search before he silently slipped away...

Name- Matt ((If he must be named...))
Age- 25
Weapons- Silenced pistol, a combat knife, and a few things in his suit.
Appearance- Wearing a black stealth suit with an array of small pouches across the chest and legs of the suit. Each one holding a different thing. May it be tranquilizer bullets, micro-grenades of tear gas, a miniature health kit, extra magazines of ammo, or piano wire for strange occasions...His face is covered in an awkward black face/gas mask with white, dulled lenses, allowing him to see things through different visions and his line of sight as well.((Working like short range telescopes)). None of his skin is visible. Even his neck is covered up by a special neck guard turtle neck.
Other- A ready assassin and infiltrator. Mathis has been trained in many fields and wishes to offer his services to the best, the Black Templars.
Bio- He works alone. Kills alone. And disposes alone.
Position- Infiltrator/assassin
RP Sample- Silently, Matt moved along the building wall. Upon reaching the corner he lowered himself to his knees and glanced on the other side of the building. 1 man. Matt further lowered himself to a laying position and pulled forth his pistol. Using the aimer of the gun and his telescopic lenses, he zoomed in on the enemies skull, right behind the ear, and fired. The man collapsed sickly to the ground with barely a sound escaping his lips. Now to get inside...

Name- Roger Eversmith Age- 20
Weapons- M-249 SAW and dual M-5's with front grip and collapsible stock
Appearance- Army fatigues
Other- Fluent in French and Spanish as well as a master in CQC (Close Quarters Combat) and Tae Kwon Do
Bio- His father was killed by terrorists in a top secret operation that wasn't even known by the Vice President. His family was told it was a training accident. However, Roger searched out his father's old squad mates who actually told him the truth, about his father's death serving his country. Roger followed his fathers footsteps as a Green Beret for year and then as an Army Ranger for 2 year. He went AWOL during his mission as a Ranger because his orders were to destroy an entire village including it's occupants. He left the United States to go to Gaia. He found out about the Black Templars and decided to go for them!
RP Sample- Roger looked through the iron sights of his SAW from his post. The rest of his squad left to go inside the building to rescue the hostages. He was left there to make sure they had an exit. He was unaware of the footsteps behind him. The terrorist pointed his AK-74 at him and said, " STAND UP!" Roger did so and still faced forward. The terrorist then said, " GOOD! NOW LOWER YOUR WEAPON AND TURN AROUND." Roger did so...sorta! He lowered his weapon so the butt of the SAW was underneath his armpit. He quickly jolted it back and up, hitting the man straight in the bottom of his chin. He then dropped his SAW to the ground and spun around to his left with his arm extended hitting the man with a "judo chop" on his left side of his neck. He then picked up his saw and slung the strap over his shoulder. He picked up the semi-conscious man's AK-74 and said, " I was just following orders! You should put them into more detail in your next life...that is what you bastards believe in right? I hope so!" He then wasted the clip on the man's chest and tossed the gun on top of him. He pressed the talk button on his radio on the back part of his equipment belt, " How long guys?" There was a response, " We're coming out now." Just then he saw his squad with the hostages on their backs(fireman's carry) and a Blackhawk helicopter landed in front of them. That all got aboard and flew back to base.

Name- Kalliope
Age- 17
Weapons- twin desert eagles & daggers (*forgets which site uploads pics* -_-")
Appearance- Basically, same as the avatar. Dresses in seriously beat up leather, slightly shorter in stature.
Other- She doesn't like talking to people much in general, not because she's shy, but rather because people can be annoying.
Bio- She was born into a poor family and grew up learning how to survive on the streets. The rest of her bio is hers, thank you.
RP Sample- She walked carefully on the rafters, her eyes trailing to the boxes reserved for the elite, where a rather plump and bombastic-looking man sat, looking bored as the intermission came to an end. From the shadows of the catwalks, she glanced back at her escape route, checking to make sure she had a claer path. The techies were below, getting things prepared backstage. The way was set, and with an odd sort of grin on her face, Kalliope turned back to take aim.

Name- Dave Masters
Age- 29
Weapons- MP5SD
Appearance- A hardened Coreman, who has a few scars visible under his uniform.
*5'11"
*Brown eyes
*black hair
*slightly tanned skin
*Average, but with a toned muscles
http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c126/purefireknight209/ghost2.jpg
Other- He is an experienced Medic seeing those in his care die, and sometimes live.
Bio/History- Fatherless motherless, and friendless. He had one friend who died by his side in an assault. He had joined the Medical support squad at the age of 17. He trained for two years learning how to patch, and successfully send a wounded back into combat. His first mission was one he'd never forget. Being sent with a Battalion of men as one of the few dozen coremen accompanying them. Upon landing a man was hit threw the thigh, and a bullet punctured an artery. Trying his best bloodstained, and sweating he couldn't save the man. The Protein foam had jammed, and his backpack was hit puncturing a cylindrical container of plasma. He gave the solider morphine, but that was all he could do. Leaving the Man to die he had to move on. That first mission he saw many deaths, and saved a few. One man he had patched up took a bullet to his shoulder. The soldier was patched, but was glanced with a bullet through the temple. patching a wounded soilder never meant he lived the rest of the day. That was to him a trial run, he needed to get the thought of death being greater than anyone else's out of his mind. Later Dave learned more, and a few tricks not done by the books to get a soldier back in action. Now he works to keep more alive.
RP Sample- The Doors swung open to a green field spat from the heavens of hell. This was a day that men would die, and men would see the fates drawn before them. Dave stepped out as bullets from enemy beachheads rained down crashing metal into metal. A bullet glanced off his helmet and flung Dave back into the dirt. Slowly pulling himself up he saw a man grasp his throat, and fallover. Bullets were raining down he needed to make it to the sand wall. He zigged under fire, as men fell from everywhere. Being told that his death meant ten other would die he was priority to make it to the sandwall. A Coreman came up behind him, and took a few bullets to the chest. diving into the dirt, he hoped the gunfire would pass, as he crawled he saw sand explode up. Ringin was screaming in his ears, he was twenty yards from the sandwall. Men were ducked behind the sandwall as Bullets rained down, and shells exploded. He was ten yards when a bullet nicked Dave's arms. another shot into his calf, and he fell forward. Three yards from the mound os sand referred to as a wall. A soldier jumped back, and grabbed with both hands on Dave's pack pulling him to the wall. turning on his back Dave took his pack off and patched his wounds, he was now almost immobile, but he would need to crawl amongst the mound to patch wounded soldier.

Gaia User- Octapus/Captain Butch flowers
Name- Sara Armada
Age- 22
Weapons- UTF MG,Colt SMG, Satchel charge, M18 Smoke Grenade
Appearance-
*Height-5'7"
*Weight- 107lb
*Blue eyes
*Honey blonde Hair with Strawberry blonde tips
*Light Skin with a Healthy Tan.
*Toned, and Slim
http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c126/purefireknight209/artwork_7.jpg
Bio- Sara was a girl who grew up in the high life. Her parents always held her up high, and left to self soothe. At age 12 she was drawn into the ideas of military engagements. She learned that the world drew on wars, and studied its leisure’s. She studied the espionages brought that caused revolutions, and change of the powers. At 17 she joined into the Military, scoring into the elite divisions. She learned a mastery in level 7 Hand to hand combat, and Expert Marksmanship. She learned how to range her ammo for fire fights, and long term engagements, using ideas brought on by marines. Sara has excelled in all weapons from rifles to small arms. She currently works as an elite Spec Ops at the Age of 22. She is filled out, and experienced in her areas. Because the Military discourages relationships Sara has never taken the time to look for what she'd do later in her life. For now she accepts what she does.

Name- Doctor Furu A. Lupin
Age- 25
Weapons: I?m a doctor, think about it?
Appearance- Blonde hair blue green eyes fair pale skin often seen wearing a black doctors coat and nurses cap.
Bio- I've been trained in both the medical arts and in combat since I was a child. I grew up with only my mother in Munich Germany until I was eight when a stranger stopped by and slaughtered my mother, Swanhild Sophi Lupin, the famous female doctor of her time. The man then took me away to his homeland, Okinawa Japan. There he beat me twice a day and fed me leftovers of rice and fish, I survived and then he saw that it was fit to train me in the arts of Aikido. Master Daiki Takashi Kibishima , which in Japanese his name means Great Shining Eminence. When I was sixteen he told me why he had killed my mother, he told me that they were arranged to married but my mother had another man, he was in London. My Master Daiki told me he was furious, my mother told him that the other man in her life did not know about him and that if he did he surely would have left her. Master Daiki said that when he found my mother he did not know that she had me, he said I wasn?t in sight until he found in a near by closet the door was cracked and he assumed I had seen everything and of course he was right I work hard and I never back down from a challenge.
RP- The Doctor stood silently in the medical tent surrounded by hurt and screaming men. A few of the nurses were panicking and didn't have the slightest idea of how to handle themselves or the others around them. The Doctor strolled slowly over to the bedside of a man who had wounded himself when trying to load a gun with powder and also tried to fire the gun as well. This caused sparks and ash to leap into the mans eyes, for the guns butt is usually found resting upon the soldiers shoulder when he fires the gun. This caused the mans eyes to have a burning sensation, form scars from the burnt flesh around the eyes and also causes the eyes to swell mildly. The Doctor looked down at the screaming man with only a tinge of sympathy upon her face. For a solider who is incapable of firing a gun is as useless as a maid trying to fix a tank. She then took out some cotton wrap from her pocket and put it in the mans mouth indicating him to bite down upon the cloth as she applied a alcohol solvent which caused mild burning as well but cleansed the wounds and caused the swelling to go down. Once she was finished she motioned for a nurse to help her prop the man up so she could wrap up his wound with a cloth similar to the one that he was still biting upon.

Name- Riken Vorgheis (Formerly known as Gunther Valian.)
Age- 24 Weapons- CZ-75BD, MR Desert Eagle
Appearance- (Exactly like Gunther, just a new wardrobe.)
Other- It'll take me awhile to get Riken set up as I had Gunther due to loss of my account, but I've set a creative bio to make up for the loss.
Bio- Having disappeared for several months after his last assignment, Riken, formerly known as Gunther, has returned to the Latrocinium, among his own kind. He hadn't returned with a story to tell, replying to any question involving his disappearance with humor. He disregards the questions altogether.
RP Sample- I'm sure you can find one or two somewhere in a past RP of ours. (None available with new account.) ---As well, I'd like to take up a spot in the Spec ops division again, though Infantry would be fine if it's full. It'll prolly take me a week or two to get greased up and back to my old self.

Name - Lai Leema
Age - 24
Weapons - Colt M1911a1, CZ-100, Dakota T-76 Longbow, Smoke Grenade (usually x5 or less)
Appearance - Short boyish blonde hair, bangs covering hazel-green eyes set in pale skin. Lai stands around five foot eight tall with a slim build, the majority of mass being muscle for easy and fast movement even when under pressure. Civilian clothes are totalitarian neutral grey loose clothing, undercover or on a mission anything that's called for. Otherwise it's arctic camo.
Other - Allergic to peanut butter, apricots, and certain species of owl.
Bio - Born into an upper-middle class family, Lai had pretty much whatever she wanted as a kid, as long as she could earn it. She was taught to appreciate the work and effort it took to get somewhere, something not many kids could boast. She coasted through school as something of a smart-assed B+ student and graduated with a GPA of 87.5. This could get her into a reasonable college, yes, but that didn't seem to be interesting enough after wasting a few thousand dollars on tuition for a year.
After searching for a new calling, Lai found that a military career would better fit her personality. Loyal, able to take and give orders fairly well, and something of a perfectionist. Again though, this wasn't interesting enough. If she was going to do something she'd do it the best she'd be able to; under this category fell the Black Templars. A long shot but well worth it. Heck, Lai'd always wanted to try dropping off the face of the Earth legal wise.
She severed all ties with society and took her shot at becoming one of the Templars.
RP Sample -Three, two, one... Hunkered down behind a small barricade of boxes and metal crates, Lai ducked her head as the set explosive on the door blew. It wasn't the stealthiest way of entering a room, but when you found yourself with little choice, it didn't quite matter. The explosion would stun those inside--the target and his entourage--but only for a moment. The guards would be on alert after their heads stopped quaking.

Lai stood, detaching a flash-bang grenade from her belt. She armed it and threw it into the room, turning her head as the explosive set off on impact. Pivoting easily on one booted foot the merc vaulted over her protective crate low-wall and made into the room, Colt M1911a1 poised at the ready in her right hand, CZ-100 quickly drawn from a leg holster into her left. Through the infared vision of her goggles she could see the figures of several people, moving, to get their bearings. A table was over turned and the door lay somewhere nearby.

The three largest men took several shots each to the head through the smoke before they could get their bearings, splattering obscure patters across the steel wall. A scream from a woman, a shout from the target, a slur in a Slavic sounding language.

The target first, a weapons peddler who had been supplying the enemy and taking good measures to give to those who would be most dangerous. He began to draw a gun as he slid up the wall. Dropping the pistol in her grasp Lai stepped quickly. Grabbing the man's gun wrist she pulled it forward and out of a danger zone, sweeping a foot at the inside tendon of the target's ankle, simultaneously pistol whipping him across the head to leave a gash from his receding hairline to his opposite eye. Stunned and hurt he dropped his gun.

Lai backed up quickly and shot him, missing once, hitting him once in the next and once in the head--no doubt he'd be wearing a vest. The other two in the room were simple clean up; witnesses to be disposed of without trouble one they were without protection. Time for escape.

Turning back from the room after grabbing her CZ-100 the blond took a different way out; avoiding guards where she could but still leaving a small body count. The trail wasn't followable; the bodies were hidden to throw off any tracking. She made it out of the building unspotted by anyone who lived, taking a discreet way out of the dealing building and making her way to a rendezvous point for extraction. Mission complete.

Name- Falkirk Sturm
Age- 30
Weapons- Any type of heavy weapon
Appearance- A patch over one eye. Well Built scraggly black hair.
Bio- Has been a mercenary all his life since at least the age of 13 and has fought in any fight that paid well enough. Lost his eye in battle at age 20 and has a rage that strives him to fight on. Has no family but for the men he comes to serve with. Has always been put with heavy weapons to create massive damage to the enemy, in particular when he fought in the 2nd Bosnian war.
RP Sample- The air was quiet as the column moved ahead. General Fish was in the command pulpit in the forward Reaver Titan. The two other Reavers lumbered along next to the Blood Angels 5th Company column with the Warhounds taking the rear guard. Suddenly shells began to scream in on their column. The left hand Warhound took A DIRECT hit to its Lance battery . The Blood Angels began to fall into tactical formation. Fish yelled into his vox, " Brother Captian Glandus get your Terminators into the front and keep the regular Marines on the back line. We're picking up enemy infantry up here and we're preparing our guns." "Yes, General" , came the reply. The vehicles carrying the infantry came up on the horizon just as the Terminators ahead formed their line, hiding in some of the craters made by the bombardment. Fish gave the order to fire on the vehicles. The Reavers opened fire with their Lance Turrets raking the ground with enough firepower to vaporize power armored squad of heavy infantry. On the ground the Terminators opened fire with their Heavy Bolter sending thousands of Inferno shells at the oncoming infantry. These shells have the power blow a horse in half.

Name- Nick A.K.A Toy
Age- 16
Weapons- A 9mm, and a Uzi
Appearance- http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b319/nome_king/shaggy.jpg
Other- N/A
Bio- Nick grew up in the ghetto, where he ran the streets of graffiti since he was 13. He has been known for his skills in lock picking, computer hacking, hotwiring, and acrobatics. He is also extremely stealthy.
RP Sample- Nick walked in to the office wearing a red ecko hat, a baggy red ecko tall tee, and some baggy black jean shorts. He was also wearing some red converse. Nick is about 6 foot, and has black dread locks that go to his chest. He walks to the front desk to the secretary, and smiles. "Excuse me ma'am, but might I say you?re looking extremely lovely tonight."

Name- Lawrence "HellJumper" Thomas
Age- 23
Weapons- M1911A1 .45 Caliber Pistol, Designated Marksman Rifle (DMR)
Appearance- He's 6'5 about 280 pounds. He's in good physical condition up to current USMC standards. He has a scar going across his left eye. He has short blood hair and blue eyes.
Other- Wants to join a infantry division.
Bio- He was born in Hell's Kitchen New York. When he was 16 he joined a gang that tried to bring back the old Irish families and the fear back into Hell's Kitchen. He was Arrested at 17 and spent 6 months in jail for theft. When he was 18 he joined the Marines trying to fix his life he made scout sniper, but that plan back fired at the end of his first term of enlistment when they found out he had lied about his criminal record to get in. Now with fighting as the only thing he knows and nowhere else to go he has turned to the Black Templars.
RP Sample- He laid on top of a hill in a full gillie suit with a DMR in his hands. It was a training exercise, he was using simulated rounds but it still all felt the same to him. He was approximately 500 yards from the enemy HQ. He looked at a tent he thought was the command tent. He gave careful look to all the personnel near it. Then one of them made a grave mistake. He saluted an officer in the field, there mistake was his good fortune. He took careful aim and held his breath and slowly pulled on the trigger being careful not to jerk it and throw the bullet off. The round found it's target in the officer chest near the heart. He started to breath again. His partner looked at him "Nice shooting but can you do it again?" He asked him. Lawrence looked at him. "Don't need to he was the objective. Call HQ and tell them the target is neutralized."

Mucho Gusto
Name- Andrea Sanchez
Age- 22
Weapons- dagger and an M4 Rifle
Appearance- Andrea stands five foot five with lightly tanned skin. Light brown hair reaches to her mid back, usually left loose except when on the field, it's then tied into a long tight ponytail.
Other- Brother to Carlos
Bio- Andrea was, like most military daughters in the past, overlooked by her father for her older brother Carlos. She didn't care much, her brother always looked out for her because their father was usually on duty somewhere. Her brother always tried to impress, but it didn't matter to Andrea. It was only after their father had disowned her brother did she really take any military interest. Left alone, she studied what little she could. By age twenty she was admitted into the military and quickly rose to special ops in marksmanship. She recently heard rumor that Carlos was within the Black Templars and is now trying to test this rumor.
RP Sample- Andrea placed one eye over the scope and slowly aligned the crosshairs over the head of a nearby guard. Nearby, meaning the closest person within eighty yards. Quietly she lifted one arm up holding three fingers in the air. She then lowered it again and fired her first shot. It punctured the skull of the first victim and she quickly turned her rifle to the next guard and fired again. This bullet however entered through the bottom of the chin and out the base of the back of the skull. She watched as another member of her team grabbed the third guard and slit his throat. With a slight giggle, Andrea continued to look out for other adversaries.

Name- Brock Harlock
Age- 28
Weapons- M4A1 Carbine, Dual MK-23 SOCOMS, Combat Knife, M72 LAW
Appearance- (Avi) Missing left eye.
Bio- Brock Sokolov Harlock was born in Soviet Russia, and was trained as a Gorilla Warfare soldier since the age of 7. His english is clean without any hit of Russian Accent. He trained with the Iron Dynasty and has worked with a variety of Mercenaries and Soldiers.
RP Sample- Brock peaked around the corner with a small mirror to see where the opposition were. "..." His leg was battered to Hell with bullets, he clenched his MK-23 Socom and took a deep breath. He was loosing blood by the second, and was running out of bandages. His M4 was blown to hell, and would have been more hazardous to him if he fired it. No... he was going to have to wait for Evac or Rescue Team. He crawled in the house, making sure not to leave a trail of blood.

Name- Hex Hishugari
Age- 25 Weapons- .22 Magnum, Hk Carbine assault Rifle, M4A1 Assault Rifle,Five SeveN, and a .45 calibur pistol.
Appearance-Avi...
Other-
Bio- As my Bio I will put past experience. I have experience in running Organizations espeacially Crime Organizations. I also know many Military rankings and their codes of Conduct. I know alot of things about the Roleplaying world, and my expertise in Roleplaying is also a major part of me.
RP Sample- Ebony Smiles as he makes his way to his car as he held his HK towards the ground looking for mine detections., He ducked behind the passanger side and opened the door, he grabbed his new HE grenades but they were special, they have a stick like feel on them They were coated with a stick-glue like base so they would stick to walls and such with ease . Before he grabbed them he had placed a lotion onto his hands so the grenades would come off his hands easily. Once the lotion was placed he had grabbed the box with one hand and with the other held his HK. . He went back to his spot behind the brick wall. He grabbed three of the stick He grenades and smiled, as he felt a shot braze his head lightly "s**t! ,apparently he is mad" He grabbed the grenades and removed the pin from one and threw it at the bar as it stuck to the wall. He did the same move with the other two stick grenades.The grenades stuck to different parts of the front of the bar, He had only three regular HE's left as he clipped them to his belt. He took off his hat and ducked low looking out the side shooting about 7 shots form his HK. He heard the explosion of the three Stick He's as they blew up 80% of the front side of the bar. With such an explosion it would cause many mines to explode

Name- Kukarov Yokavetzy Pentarelik
Age- n/a
Weapons- SKS auto. with bayonet and 30RBC
Appearance- tall, slim, Russian military officers uniform, Cossack ushanka with 5MS on it
Bio- comes from old world army of big boss, help with engineering of metal gear REX and RAY
RP Sample- *the steel plated door was blown off its hinges from the 4 pounds of c4 planted in the right places* soldier 1-sir, doors been blown of its hinges(over radio) kukarov-good, ill zer in two seconds *a tall, slim man steps through the cloud of smoke caused form the ruble of concrete created by the wall surrounding the door. he calmly walks up to the commanding soldier. kukarov-have you checked inside soilder1- not without your permission sir kukarov- good, zen check the contents of ze room, then give me a full report commanding officer, comrade, officer type

Name- Kagen
Age- 23
Weapons- Custom sniper rifle with thermal and NV scope. Magnification 20x. Caliber- .50; Tactical combat knives (3). Medic's equipment in pockets.
Appearance- Black Kevlar helmet was worn on her head and cast a shade over her blue-silver eyes. Specially made, quarter-length sleeved shirt was worn. Sleeves carried a few pockets above the elbow. Over this was a tactical black vest, inside was Kevlar-lined also. Vest held pockets inside and outside, and carried a large assortment of items. The most prominent of which seemed to be medical equipment. Vest ended and shirt tucked into black paramedic's pants. Over the standard belt a larger, webbing belt was worn. On it were three spread small boxes for various calibers of ammunition. On the back, over her right hip was a canteen. Over the left hip was a survival knife. Pants seemed fitting at the top, but after the curve of her hips they were slightly baggy and carried an assortment of cargo pockets stuffed with more medical equipment. Pants were bloused into the tops of heavy black combat boots.
Bio- Ex-German sniper was removed from their forces upon the suspicion of spying. The rumor was false, yet the damage was done. Kagen searched the land for other opportunities of employment, working with varied mercenary groups. Not much else is known of interest.
RP Sample- Kagen crept silently through the underbrush of the forest. The heat outside was intensified by the ghillie suit she'd made for this particular area of cover, given it was not the most sniper-friendly environment. Face was painted up to as close to perfection as she could manage. She lay down and removed the rifle from her back. She slowly unhinged the bipod and set it on the ground, then hooked the clasp under the barrel to it. She made sure it was steady, and then laid a small network of netting and leaves from the area over the weapon. Then, it was a simple waiting game.

Name- Victor Fox
Age- 26
Weapons- Remington 870 Entry Model, Modified Glock 20 (barrel lengthened and threaded barrel to accept a silencer) Dagger on left hip, backup, two-shot derringer in right boot, small throwing knife in left.

Appearance- When Victor passes through a crowd, no one seems to take notice of him, despite his height of just a hair over six feet. His face isn’t particularly memorable, not unattractive, but a too-large hooked nose and heavy, dark eyebrows keep him from being good-looking. His skin has a light tan by nature and he is of lean build, not thin, just lacking any wasted space. Most of his wavy dark brown hair stays shoved back, sometimes in a nub of ponytail, but occasionally a rebellious strand need to be brushed away from his dark blue eyes. A futuristic-looking body-armor vest, composed of horizontal blocks of plating, gives him good protection from pistol and small-caliber rifle fire. He wears black fatigue-style pants and combat boots, and a shapeless, calf-length coat conceals his weapons. Occasionally, he adds a low, wide-brimmed hat to keep his face hidden, or just to keep his eyes out of the sun.

Biography- Victor’s father was consigliore to Don Scarlatti, one of Chicago’s most dangerous Mafiosos, and once he turned sixteen, the young Fox began ‘helping out with the family business,’ mostly odd jobs as muscle, and eventually worked his way up to what his father called “discreet operations.” Victor spent the proceeding ten years as a Don Scarlatti’s killer-for-hire, one of the best in the field. His skills were not in sniping, or stealthy operations. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do things that way, he just found it more expedient to blow down the front door, shoot whomever he needed to, and walk out, melting into the shadows. After a botched operation, however, he has gained not only the ire of Don Scarlatti, but that of all organized crime in the states. Thus, he came to the Black Templars, looking for work of the only sort he knew.

RP Sample- Victor worked the pump-action of his matte-black shotgun covering the gap where there had been a door a moment ago, before it had a disagreement with his boot. A harried-looking little man in a pinstripe suit came around the corner scolding the guard who was growing cold on the ground outside, “Jesus, Gary! What’re y-” The man never got the chance to accuse the dead thug. Thunder rolled in the cramped hallway, and the man’s jaw and throat became a bloody pulp, as Victor’s custom buck-and-birdshot ammunition sent crimson fluid and splinters of bone into the tastefully decorated wall behind him. Victor turned the corner, keeping the gun to his shoulder. More would come to the sound, and more would die. That was the way of things in the business.

Name: Revan Wolf
Appearance: Wolf is 21 years of age standing in at 6"3 and weight: 200lbs. He has dark brown hair and blue eyes. Athletic built and frame and has a scar from the left temple to below the left eye. He is always clean shaven.
He is rarely caught out of military uniforms. He also tends to wear a beret, woodland camo fatigues, combat boots and black tactical vest.
Personality: He tends to be a loner in his personal time. Also, he knows to follow and execute orders with out hesitation. He tries not to get attached to other, and keeps most of his personal life to himself. He will do what’s good for the team and will put his life out on line to save the others in his team. He is motivated dedicated and lethal.
Belongings: Other than his standard issue military equipment, Wolf enjoys using his MP5K in close combat and, Colt.45 holstered in an airborne holster on his right leg.
A Scout Combat Knife that is attached to the top left of his tactical vest. A radio with LASH system to communicate with to his fellow teammates, Mp3 player that he listens to music for before and after missions
Wolf is always prepared with an assortment of equipment including a rucksack containing a change of clothes, an emergency medical kit, two canteens of water, a small amount of ammunition and MRE’s it fairly light as far as such things go for it only has the bare minimum necessary. The ruck is still in fairly good condition but does show signs of wear.
Wolf wears a Lion pendant around his neck on his dog tag chain. It’s the one personal belonging that he values the most because his biological parents gave it to him. And he also carries around a photo that he looks at from time to time but doesn’t share stories or information about it since its a personal belonging to him and he tries to keep work and social life from mixing together. For he doesn’t want to have attachments to the people he works with.
Other: He is always trying to become better in all his skills. He always has some sort of gun powder smell on him from being out on the ranges and shoot houses. He does spend time in the reck hall working out and playing pool. Wolf spends a lot of his free time on the sniper courses trying to become a better Expert in the field of Sniping. But the most of his skills belong in CQC techniques.
History: Growing up he lost his dad to War and his mother when he was born on Monday January 13th 1986 6:23am Beech Grove, Indiana in St. Francis Hospital. His dad was a Sergeant First Class in the Special Forces in U.S. Army and was in charge of a squad that was appointed to help destroying terrorists activity in the Middle East. He was involved in the Libya bombing the U.S. did in April 1986 code-named Operation El Dorado Canyon. He was part of the few ground troops that were involved in the tactical air strike and didn’t make it out before the bombs hit. Not knowing his true family Wolf struggle to adapt to his foster families. Bouncing back and forth between foster cares he eventually graduated from high school and went on to college. Half way in college he signed up to be in the Military to further his education and his need to protect others this occurred March 23rd 2005 he graduated from basic training and AIT August 10th 2005. May 5th, 2006 he was 20 years old and caught shrapnel and it caused his scar on his face when he was on patrol. His unit was patrolling around RPG Alley in Iraq. The team was doing a simple escort for some officials and the first vehicle was hit with an RPG. As they drove away not to engage the enemy his vehicle was hit by a land mine. The explosion flipped his vehicle and the shrapnel from the explosion cut up his face. He defended his position and tended to the wounded as much as he could until help could arrive. Eventually he was saved when the bradleys that were driving behind them came to recover the wounded.
He has been discharged out of the Army since after he recovered from his injuries. The Army gave him an honorable medical discharge May 15, 2006, since they thought his injuries were permanent. He herd about a mercenary group in England and went to investigate to hopefully join their ranks.
RP Sample: Wolf and his team were rolling down RPG alley in Iraq. The air was thin and the humm- vee was hot like usual. Chatter could be herd over the radio as they were escorting some politicians to the next FOB. The road was bumpy and had little signs of life in the surrounding area. Dust was being kicked up by the tires, but visibility was still clear. He looked around keeping his eyes open for any possible enemy. Damn it’s hot, he thinks to himself as he looks at his m-4 a4 rifle.
As he sits in the stiff and cramped humm- vee terrorists look down from the ridge near by watching the convoy passing through. They signal over to their comrades to engage the first vehicle in the convoy.
Wolf was looking out his window as he herd a loud explosion. It caught his attention quickly, that. As he saw the fire in the distance his mind was racing. The driver of his vehicle knew that they couldn't stop so they drove going from 55mph to 75 mph. Hold on guys the driver shouted, as they went flying down the road. Wolf was looking around to see where the enemy might be setting up an ambush. The gunner watched his sector scanning for any targets to engage as he signal to the other gunners further back in the convoy about the RPG attack on the first vehicle. The flames were closer as they were nearing the lead vehicle the driver swerved to go around the disabled humm -vee.
Right as they whipped around the disable humm -vee, an anti vehicle land mine was triggered by Wolfs humm- vee. The explosion made his vehicle flip and land on its side. The driver smacked his head on the radio pretty badly, but was still alive. The shrapnel ripped through the floor boards in cut the side of his face up pretty badly. The gunner was sent flying out of the turret and the team leader was killed from the explosion. Wolf pulled himself out of his seat up to the passenger door behind the driver. He pushed the heavy armored door open smoke followed as the humm-vee was slowly filling up with smoke. He could hear the other vehicles driving by as they were escaping the RPG alley way. The radio was still crackling with random communications saying to stay put and the bradleys will be there soon to assist them. Wolf exited the vehicle with his rifle, his cloths blood soaked and dirty from the explosion. He herd the driver coughing from the smoke coming from the engine being on fire still. Wolf yelled into the humm- vee to hold on as he help open the door.
As he opens the door bullets were being fired at his position. He got the door open and hopped down the vehicle to avoid the bullets whizzing by his head. The driver chucked the fire extinguisher out to Wolf. He quickly pulled the pin and sprayed the engine with the contents to put the fire out. The driver eventually moved out of his seat back to the gun turret stand and cleared the debris in the way to exit out of the vehicle which it lays on its side.
Wolf looked at the driver with his one good eye to make sure he was ok. The blood was still coming down the side of Wolfs face staining his uniform. Wolf tapped the driver on the shoulder to let him know nothing else was wrong with him. They both knew that they have to be tactical to be able to check on the others in the humm – vee adjacent to their location.
Wolf motioned with his hands to cover his movements as he ran to the next vehicle. He looked around his own vehicle just to judge how far they rolled from the first vehicle. As he did he noticed the passengers in the back seat still moving around a bit. The gunner was taken out be indirect fire and laying on his 240b aiming up at the ridge line. The driver and team leader were both gone, the RPG hit cause shrapnel to break the glass and kill them from lacerations to the face.
Wolf got ready to run as he took a few deep breaths and ran to the next vehicle. The driver covered his movements as Wolf braved the bullets raining down above them. The dust was kicking up from his boots hitting the pavement he bounces off the side of the humm – vee as he dodges the majority of bullets. He new he was hit in the left shoulder as he felt something hit his arm and his arm fell limp. Wolf clinched his teeth as he made his way to open the door. The sounds of gun fire exchanging between the driver and the enemy filled the air.
Wolf saw the two soldiers in the back seat still shaken up from the explosion. They showed no signs of being wounded. He helps them out of the vehicle and pointed to them to go back to Wolf’s vehicle to take cover. The two nodded to him and took off running to his vehicle. Wolf propped his body against the humm- vee to provide cover as they ran. His left arm was still not working and he was soon losing a lot of blood. He fired one clip up to where the enemy was shooting at them from.
He slumped back down to where the tire was and took his medical pack and applied a dressing on his shoulder to help control the bleeding. The pain was great but he dealt with it. He ran back to his vehicle, the driver had been hit by a stray bullet from the battle. Wolf went over and applied a dressing on him as well to control the bleeding. The other two were looking at him for their next orders. Wolfs mind was racing as he was getting sleepy from the lack of blood. He told everyone to keep their heads down and wait for the back up to come and give them.
Down the road the noisy bradelys could be herd roaring down the road. They still were a ways back but the group could still hear them approaching. One of the passengers from the other vehicle peered around the corner as he did bullets again were being rain down at them. Wolf looked over to them and told to stay put, after finishing that last sentence the other passenger was crawling to go retrieve the gunner from Wolf’s truck. Wolf tried to call him back but the soldier was determined to drag his comrade back to there position.
The soldier low crawled his way to the gunner lying in the sand face down. He showed no signs of life, and looked like he had died from the landing after being ejected from the vehicle. The soldier dragged the gunner back to them as he did he was hit in one of his legs. He kept crawling to the group for he only had a little ways to go and didn’t want to be left in the open. The bradelys were in eye sight now they would be there shortly. Wolf applied a dressing to his comrade’s leg just to control the bleeding.
The enemy on the ridge line saw that armor had arrived and were going to withdraw from the ridge line. They bought up two RPG men and fired down at them hitting the two humm –vees as they fled the area. The first humm –vee was knocked over on its side. The second humm –vee was just pushed forward a bit and was both on fire. The bradelys came and gathered the group up and took them away. The two remaining humm-vees were destroyed in place with grenades so the enemy can’t salvage anything out of them.

Name: Paul Bunyan
Appearance: Paul Bunyan stands nearly seven feet tall and is a broad man, not fat. His exact height was determined by a doctor on a foot ladder and that height was six feet eleven inches. At that same time, his weight was calculated out to be three hundred and ninety-six pounds. This was acquired when Paul was twenty four, three years ago. Paul has a thick dark brown beard and mustache covering most of his face (think lumberjack). This isn't seen much to at all because he wears a thick wool beanie. It's the fuzzy gray color often seen atop the heads of lumberjacks, and homeless people too. His arms are massive. To be expected on a seven foot man, but it's with chiseled muscle. Actually, his whole body is muscular, though it's not often seen because Paul wears a long sleeved plaid shirt and blue overalls. When he's not working of course. Well, when he's not working with his current job. However, Paul has no signifcant scar or mole or anything that makes him stand out in a crowd. He does a mighty fine job of that simply by standing.
Personality: Paul is a simple man. A bit naive. Not gullible, but more that he's too trusting of a man. He takes things at face value and always speaks the truth. And, as a simple man, thinks that everyone else does as well. He doesn't pick up on jokes and doesn't even know that sarcasm is a word. All in all, he's probably the only completely true human left on the face of Earth. He has a cheerful attitude and always seems to be full heart in all his actions. Like he truly believes that the world can be a better place.
Belongings: Paul doesn't have much in the sense of belongings. He carries a large duffel bag mostly containing the plaid shirts and overalls he's used to wearing. He has two sets of military uniforms as well. Meaning, sweats and slacks with his name on the back. Being a large man by the name of Paul Bunyan, and the taunting that came with it, Paul found it only right that he name his one true friend, the LW25 Chain Gun, Babe after the one and only Blue Ox. He does have one very strange item for anyone during this day and age, however. A large chopping axe made specifically for him by his father.
Other: The LW25 is still in testing, but it's pretty.
History: Paul Bunyan was a large baby and a large baby Paul Bunyan was. He was nearly two feet long when found by his parents on their doorstep. How on Earth any woman survived such a trial, God only knows. He never knew his birth parents. It wasn't until he was twenty four and heading into mercenary work that he found out his parents weren't his birth parents. Paul was left at the doorstep of an old lumberjack couple. Well, a lumberjack and his wife. Being a large child, Paul started helping out his father and the other lumberjacks at a young age. Already reaching five feet at the age of nine, Paul was one of the better lumberjacks. As he continued to grow, though, the axes started to get too small for him. At the age of eleven, on his birthday in fact, Paul received one of his greatest gifts ever. His father made him his own axe, much larger than any of the other axes. In fact, it was too large for him to wield at that point and he was already five foot ten]. But his father knew he'd keep growing and grow he did.
The day he finally decided to use the axe was a day that something interesting and strange happened in his little community. A lost ox was reported roaming around the woods. No man dare confront it because it was larger than most of them. Paul was a little older than fourteen at the time and had reached the impressive height of six feet four. He was asked to catch the ox. As Paul approached the giant beast, at a height of about six feet, the ox just stared back at him. It whipped it's head at Paul as he got closer but Paul was able to slowly move up on it where he placed his hand on the ox and calmed it down. At that point he was able to place a rope around it's neck and bring it back home. Babe remained with the Bunyans and was soon a helpful hand in the lumberjack field, being able to carry masses of lumber. The next eight years were not full of events and quite uninteresting. Just the normal life of a lumberjack. It was when he was well into his twenty second year on Earth that technology struck his isolated community.
The introduction of a machine that could cut faster than any human appeared and threatened to take away the jobs of lumberjacks. It had, in fact, already done so everywhere but his small community. Paul wasn't going to stand for it and competed against it. The competition started at six in the evening and lasted until sunset. The tallest pyramid at the end would be the winner. Paul nearly won too. Lost by two large logs. That destroyed his spirit and when the rest of the community started to purchae the machine over lumberjacks money started becoming hard to get. After two years of tough life, well tougher than the usual lumberjack life, Paul moved into mercenary work. The first few months were simple manual labor. Then the battles started and he spent the remainder of the past three years in military, mainly heavy weapons or demolitions. Due to his massive size, he was one of the first trial users of the newly manufactured Chain Gun. Alliant Techsystems, stationed in Black Mesa, Arizona, was developing a light weight chain gun that would be able to be used in multiple battles. Paul wield it with little difficulty and was soon attached to his new companion.
RP Sample: SNAP! Tch, snap, tch, tch, snap. "TIMBER!!!" CRASH! Fourty-one, thought Paul as he wiped his sweaty brow with his left sleeve while walking towards the next tree. He hazarded a glance towards the chopping machine. That's the thing with machines. They don't tire. The words of the advertiser rang in his head as he lifted his axe to his shoulder and then grabbed it with both hands. CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! His arms flexed as he gripped onto the wooden handle of the axe and continued to chop at the tree ahead of him. The tree was two feet three inches thick, as a lumberjack you could tell exactly anything about a tree, and that was the point of the height being a factor. If it were by the amount of trees then who ever could get to all the smaller ones first would win. After seven chops, Paul was more than halfway through the tree.
SNAP! Tch, snap, tch, tch, snap. "TIMBER!!!" CRASH! Fourty-two. He even had Babe's assistance to drag the trees out. And that was his only assistance, while the machine had half a dozen men to heave the lumber into the piles. The last of the sun's rays were twinkling through the tree tops. Three more, Paul pushed himself as he made it to another tree, a little smaller than the last but chopped down in four heavy swings. He moved again towards another tree, this one was much smaller than any tree he cut during the competition and it took one mighty swing to send this one falling. Babe made a soft noise and looked at Paul. Paul grinded his teeth. The load was starting to get a bit heavy for Babe and he'd have to tie them down for him to pull it to the piles anyway. He stopped and moved towards the fallen trees and placed them on the sled Babe was pulling. With one heavy swing, Paul placed his axe securely into a log and tied it down. Babe and him both pulled the pile towards the log pile he started and he started to place the logs onto it. Sweat ran down the exposed parts of his face and disappeared into his thick beard. He heaved another log up and onto the pile. The top of the sun was slowly moving down past the landscape giving the sky a beautiful array of colors. The dark red to orange to violet to the darkened starlit sky straight above.
"TIME!" shouted the judge and stopped Paul from putting on one last log. Paul was depressed because he still had one more log to put on. After measuring them out, the piles were calculated quickly and the machine was declared winner by five feet and ten inches. Not even the width of two small trees. More depressing was that his last log was only three feet eight inches, not even enough for a tie. With the small cheering around the unbeatable machine, Paul walked off dragging his axe behind him.

Name: Geoffery Radamacher (pronounced Jeff Radamaker)
Appearance: Geoff is 36 years old, stand at 6 feet 2inches and weighs 230lbs. A blonde buzzcut sits proudly on his head and he has bright blue eyes with long eyelashes. He bares a blonde trim beard that hugs his chin andthe sides of his face. He is what you'd consider barel-chested with a voice to match that crackles time to time. He wears a black trench coat, his priest collar, a black t-shirt and urban cammo pants with black combat boots. His nose is also vrooked due to him breaking it once long ago and it never healing correctly. The slant is subtle and you ouldnt notice unless you really looked or knew. Occasionaly, he'll wear some sort of head gear preferably a fedora or perhaps a helmet of some kind but dosent like the restrictions they give you in a combat situation.
Personality: Geoff is a rather carefree and content soul most of the time. He tends to be a "glass half full" kind of person and his demenor ussualy conflicts with his appearance. He likes to joke around, have fun and just be one of the crew. When faced in combat however he is a whole new man. He has been seen running at enemys while carrying a light machinegun, firing wildly. He will curse and recite bible passages while empting hundreds of rounds at anything that moves. A few times, he has been the result of some freindly fire but that is no longer an issue considering he prefers to be on the front lines. He dosent consider himself much of a leader, but apparently has a knack for inspiring others with his acts of violence and fear tactics. His priestly outlook on life is drenched in blood when he holds a gun in his hand and adrenaline flows through his veins. He is a licensed chaplain and does just as much healing as destroying. For every life he takes he adds another prayer at night and adds another bead to his cross necklace. Whenever he helps someone by way of funeral or counseling (in other words a true good deed) he removes a bead.
Belongings: Geoff has always favored light machine guns and since he has the appearance and lineage of a Nazi he feels it is rather appropriate to use a German weapon. Geoff wields a MG3 which is the modern version of the MG42 the Nazis used in world war two. He always has an ammo box loaded into it and slings it over his right shoulder. He has a backpack full of ammo, barrels and necesary cleaning utensils and other maintance necesities for his weapon. He will craddle his weapon in his arms like a child and treats it as if it were a person. It has been rumored that he has so loved his gun that he will call it by name, stroke it and gets pissed if he finds a smudge that wasnt there before. As all Chaplains do, Geoff carries his Bible with him wherever he goes. He has an average sized one that he has chained to his pants, and a pocket bible with prayers, hyms and proverbs listed in the back for funerals. And as every soldier does, Geoff wears his dogtags around his neck, but under his shirt so you cant see them. The clanging of them together is distinctive to him though as he dosent have the toe loop on his necklace, so the two tags bang together all the time. He also carries with him all manners of religious supplies. He has a two suitcases that hold all of these things and when traveling he'll hold one in either hand with his gun slung over his back, fully loaded of course. The suitcase containing the religious supplies contains lessed holy water that he washes his hands with every night before sleeping as to wash away the sin of the day, some candles to read his bible by, a dictionary, a few diffrent translations of certain bible books, a journal and some blessed wine for special occasions. He has also been known to carry a flask filled with Scrumpy (fermented Cider) but only drinks it when he is outside as a way to keep warm and comforted in uncomfortable situations or weather.
Other: As you might have guessed by now, Geoff is a Chaplain with his degree in theology and experiance in both non combatitive and front line duties. He is a methodist preacher but can do a service or funeral in virtualy any religion. He may not believe in the same god(s) but will hold any service needed for a person who needs it. He makes a point to never fight on a sunday, for that is his day to do good, not kill. The other 6 days of the week however he will serve as whatever is needed be it healer or murderer. His appearance and heritage have given him many nick-names such as the Holy Nazi, the Christanator, Hitler's little friend and God's left hand man. He cares not for whatever name is thrown or betowed on/at him for in the end only 2 names matter, friend or foe.
History: Geoff grew up in America but was born in Germany. He cant speak much German surprisingly but knows enough to carry out a basic conversation. He went through school and was mearly an average student. He got Bs and Cs with the occasional A in some subjects. He never played any sports or became a school representatice or anything of the like. His father was deeply religious and so it was drilled into his head from day one that you always do what is right. Geoff did some thinking on this topic and has decided what he thinks is right and wrong. He always felt a conection to God and thinks that his killing is part of God's bidding. He acts as a pylon if you will for God's wrath which is unleasahed unto the world. When he came of age, Geoff served in the U.S Army, and actualy hazed the drill sargents more than they hazed the rest of the platoon. His talents in both fighting and spirituality were unmached, and so Geoff became an unofficial chaplain in the sense that he carried a bible but was unable to give himself the title of chaplain and wear a priest collar. When the Iraq war broke out Geoff was horridly appaled that fighting was occuring in the holy land and that the US felt they could step in to make changes in a third world country. He finished up what was left of his fourth year in his term asked for a leave; managing to get into a theology school sponsored by the military. They gave him his degree after two years and then he re-joined the army, only to leave almost instantly when the war wasnt over. With his dishonorable discharge, Geoff works as a free-lancer and offers his services to anyone who needs a blessing, a sermon, a few kind words or a bullet in somone's head.
RP Sample: The sun was high in the sky on this rather warm day in october. The darkening clouds far off in the distance seemed to fallow a pilgrim who was making his way to the little town of Eterbury. The pilgrim carried a suitcase in either hand and had a long bag slung over his back that clanged whenever he took a step. The pilgrim's face was hidden by his trench coat and the fedora he wore on his head. Rain began to trikle from the sky making little *patt patt* noises on the brim of his hat. The pilgrim stoped and looked to the sky and smiled.
"You always did have a sense of humor."
The pilgrim continued on his way into the town. He pushed his way gently through some crowds that were forming in the streets and did his best not to draw any attention to himself. Church bells rang, signaling the begining of a service as the rain began to fall harder. A woman with two children quickened her pace to rush inside a nearby store for a safe haven from the rain. A man in a suit hailed a taxi and barked directions to a destination at a confused driver who at the comand of the man floored the vehicle and took of speeding down the road. A rather portly police officer wiped his nose with a hakerchief and got inside his patrol car and flipped on his lights giving chase to the speeding vehicle. Taking in his surroundings the pilgrim grinned and set down his suitcases. He reached into his trenchcoat and extracted his flask taking a swig of the sweet cider that lay inside. The hard booze woke him up and his nose began to run a little. Twisting the steel container closed, he picked up his suitcases and continued his march. His destination was one that God himself had given him and one that his good friend Xenos had requested of him.
The road leading out of the city was much diffrent than the one leading into it. The long road was surrounded by electrical fenses that hissed a little when the now down-pouring rain fell on them. Making his way up the road, the pilgrim kept his light blue eyes fixed to the ground being lead soely by his feet and nothing else. His feet had taken him to all the other places in his life, so he was quite used to allowing them to make the decisions. The rolling hills and occasional tree would have been a beautiful landscape for an artist or photographer in any other condition than the rain that was occuring.
"Such is life."
The long road ended suddenly when a huge gate potruded out with an armed guard sitting inside his little guard booth. It was obvious he was fairly new or didnt like his job very much.
"Yes sir, what is your buisness here today? *sigh*"
The pilgrim dropped his suitcases and reached through the window, grabbing the man by the collar of his uniform and pulled him close to his face.
"Listen here! This is MY world and lazy sons of bitches like you are not welcome in MY world!"
The frightened man fought to loosen the pilgrim's grasp on his collar, but to no effect.
"I hear Xenos' flock has gone a-stray, and it's going to be my job to fix it. Now, open the gate, if you please."
He let go of the man who gasped for air and quickly pressed a button that opened the gate leading into the base. Picking up his suitcases, the pilgrim made eye contact with the man, his eyes staring at his very soul. He glanced at the guard's name tag and spoke:
"Thank you..... William."
The Pilgrim passed through the gate and entered the building, taking the bible chained to his waist and opening it. He searched for a passage and the shouted in his own barrel-chested manner:
"The Lord is my light and salvation- whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid? When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, when my enemies and my foes attack me they will stumble and fall.Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear, though war break out against me even then will I be confident.The twenty-seventh Psalm, verses one through three, amen."
He snapped the book shut and whispered to himself with a grin on his face
"I Have nothing to fear, it is everyone else who will wail in pain and tremble before ME."