06-07-2008, 05:40 PM
Personal File
Name: Barrick Mane
Age: 23
Birthplace: Dublin
Current occupation: Freelance Mercenary
Faction Status: None
Physical Attributes
Height: 6’1
Weight: 12 stone
Hair features: Shaved head
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Bright blue
Body Attributes: Slim but well built
Other physical appearances: Small scar on the right eyebrow, approximately 2cm wide
Past History
Being raised on the Graves station is not what you would call an easy upbringing. At least, to Barrick, it wasn’t. Confined in his quarters, with limited space and not much to do, all Barrick could do was dream of the outside world. His parents where working the mines for the Bretonia governing forces while he was left on Graves to contemplate the future, dreamily gazing out into the abysses that is the Dublin system. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all… after all; he was only 13 at the time and luckily for him, political tensions and agenda’s was not an issue for him. For his parent’s however, it was a different story. They had a future in mind for Barrick; they didn’t want him working on Graves for the rest of his life. They knew he hated it, they knew that he didn’t like to play with the other children, and sooner or later, Barrick would do something to get out. Something that might get him killed.
They weren’t being held against their will, not exactly, but they weren’t offered much choice to do anything else except working within the confines of Graves’s station and in the dreaded fields for gold. They applied to work within New London itself, but it was blatantly refused, simply because of their family history and the fact that they could not to be trusted. So the gold mines were the only option for work these days in Dublin. It wasn’t much but it was enough to put food on the table. Most importantly, it kept Barrick healthy; sometimes they would sacrifice some of their rations so that Barrick could sleep on a full stomach. Barrick was all they could think about, day and night. His future was very important to them. Breon and Sarah where proud parents, with Barrick being their only child, they took great care to see to the majority of his needs. There was only one problem though. One need that wasn’t fulfilled, a need that Breon could see every time he looked into his sons eyes as he gazed out the star window…Freedom. A precious commodity that no merchant can buy… perhaps bribe, yes…. Breon and Sarah Mane had a plan, it was risky but it was better than being cooped up in the Dublin system, which was all about work, hard labor and abusing the rights of its employee’s… or slaves, as Breon would state.
“30 thousand credits plus some gold for good measure, and I’ll see it done”, the mercenary captain stated.
“30 thousand credits!” Replied Breon who shouted, causing a few eyes to steer themselves in his direction.
“… 20 thousand and you can have a crate full of gold bars, it means I’ll have to pull some strings but it can be done.”… Breon said.
“Very well, don't forget i'm putting my own neck on the line here, so you better do your part, prober and efficient... It’s a deal I suppose. Have them here in two days and...”, Breon was losing his patience as he cut the merc off in mid-sentence...
“Two days? Tomorrow evening, you can’t expect me to hold a crate full of gold bars for two days do you?”. Mercenaries are never easy to deal with, he thought to himself. At least this one was fairly smart, at least by what Breon could tell from the body language and tone.
“Two days, end of story. Its not open for further discussion, take it or leave it...", there was a slight pause and a sigh from Breon, then he said "fine, i've no other option anyhow".
As the Mercenary was about to leave the confines of the Grave's bar, he turned to Breon and said, "What you going to do when they notice him missing?”
“Not sure…”
Name: Barrick Mane
Age: 23
Birthplace: Dublin
Current occupation: Freelance Mercenary
Faction Status: None
Physical Attributes
Height: 6’1
Weight: 12 stone
Hair features: Shaved head
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Bright blue
Body Attributes: Slim but well built
Other physical appearances: Small scar on the right eyebrow, approximately 2cm wide
Past History
Being raised on the Graves station is not what you would call an easy upbringing. At least, to Barrick, it wasn’t. Confined in his quarters, with limited space and not much to do, all Barrick could do was dream of the outside world. His parents where working the mines for the Bretonia governing forces while he was left on Graves to contemplate the future, dreamily gazing out into the abysses that is the Dublin system. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all… after all; he was only 13 at the time and luckily for him, political tensions and agenda’s was not an issue for him. For his parent’s however, it was a different story. They had a future in mind for Barrick; they didn’t want him working on Graves for the rest of his life. They knew he hated it, they knew that he didn’t like to play with the other children, and sooner or later, Barrick would do something to get out. Something that might get him killed.
They weren’t being held against their will, not exactly, but they weren’t offered much choice to do anything else except working within the confines of Graves’s station and in the dreaded fields for gold. They applied to work within New London itself, but it was blatantly refused, simply because of their family history and the fact that they could not to be trusted. So the gold mines were the only option for work these days in Dublin. It wasn’t much but it was enough to put food on the table. Most importantly, it kept Barrick healthy; sometimes they would sacrifice some of their rations so that Barrick could sleep on a full stomach. Barrick was all they could think about, day and night. His future was very important to them. Breon and Sarah where proud parents, with Barrick being their only child, they took great care to see to the majority of his needs. There was only one problem though. One need that wasn’t fulfilled, a need that Breon could see every time he looked into his sons eyes as he gazed out the star window…Freedom. A precious commodity that no merchant can buy… perhaps bribe, yes…. Breon and Sarah Mane had a plan, it was risky but it was better than being cooped up in the Dublin system, which was all about work, hard labor and abusing the rights of its employee’s… or slaves, as Breon would state.
“30 thousand credits plus some gold for good measure, and I’ll see it done”, the mercenary captain stated.
“30 thousand credits!” Replied Breon who shouted, causing a few eyes to steer themselves in his direction.
“… 20 thousand and you can have a crate full of gold bars, it means I’ll have to pull some strings but it can be done.”… Breon said.
“Very well, don't forget i'm putting my own neck on the line here, so you better do your part, prober and efficient... It’s a deal I suppose. Have them here in two days and...”, Breon was losing his patience as he cut the merc off in mid-sentence...
“Two days? Tomorrow evening, you can’t expect me to hold a crate full of gold bars for two days do you?”. Mercenaries are never easy to deal with, he thought to himself. At least this one was fairly smart, at least by what Breon could tell from the body language and tone.
“Two days, end of story. Its not open for further discussion, take it or leave it...", there was a slight pause and a sigh from Breon, then he said "fine, i've no other option anyhow".
As the Mercenary was about to leave the confines of the Grave's bar, he turned to Breon and said, "What you going to do when they notice him missing?”
“Not sure…”