Dalton Greaves
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Dutiful, Words, Words, Words

Hive World, Imperial Guard, Assassin

Innocence is an Illusion: Gain Keen Intuition

WS BS S T Ag Int Per WP Fel Inf
41 III 50 37 I 42 III 52 35 IV 59 II40 28 42

Characteristics: Lithe, wiry, pale skin, dark hair, green augmetic eyes,
Wounds: None
Experience: 11,300/12,100 (Level 6)
Fate: 2
Insanity: 0
Corruption: 0

  • Home World Bonus: +2 to Initiative Tests
    • Signature Mental Trauma: Kleptomania
  • Background Bonus: +2 SB to determine carrying capacity, Brace for Impact
    • Signature Malignancy: Bloodlust
  • Assassin Bonus: Manoeuvre - On successful melee attack, may move target meters equal to half Agi bonus.

Skills:
Level 1 (-10:)
Charm, Commerce, Deceive, Investigate, Intimidate, Linguistics, Logic, Psyniscience, Rememberance
Level 2 (+0):
Athletics, Command, Medicae, Pilot, Survival, Tech-Use, Subterfuge
Level 3 (+10):
Observe, Navigate, Acrobatics
Level 4 (+20:)
Stealth, Evade,

Talents:

  • General:
    • Heightened Senses (Hearing, Sight)
    • Weapon Training (Las, SP, Low Tech)
    • Specialist (Imperial Guard)
    • Peer (Imperial Guard)
  • Defense:
    • Evasive - On successful Evade test, add one (1) to the total degrees of success
    • Hard Target - After performing the Move action, opponents suffer -5 to all attach tests made with ranged weapons. Stacks with multiple uses of the Move action
    • Step Aside - May use Step Aside Reaction for 1 AP. After successful attack is made against the character, he makes an Evade test. If the test succeeds, the character moves a number of meters up to their Agi bonus. Does not trigger Parting Blow Reaction
  • Investigation:
    • Keen Intuition - Retry failed Observe tests at -10 per attempt
  • Mental Fortitude:
    • Cold Hearted - Immune to Charm
    • Nerves of Steel - Re-roll to resist becoming Pinned
  • Mobility:
    • Quick Draw - Perform Ready Action for 0 AP
    • Light Sleeper - Always count as being Awake
    • Leap Up - Stand as a Free Action
  • Pilot:
    • Brace for Impact - Reduce Crash damage by Agi bonus as a Reaction 1 AP
  • Ranged:
    • Overwatch - Can take Overwatch action
    • Rite of Clearing - No BS test needed to reload jam
    • Rapid Reload - 1 less AP needed to reload
    • Target Selection - Ignore penalties for shooting into melee combat
    • Independent Targeting - Can allocate ranged hits to target within 5m of initial target
    • Hawk's Eye - Increase Overwatch arc to 90 degrees
    • Crippling Shot - Add +5 to wound effect when using ranged weapons
    • Run and Gun - After shooting, character may make the move action without spending action points
  • Resilience:
    • Resistance (Fear)

Weapons:

  • "Razor-Ring Hot-Shot Lasgun" [RoF: 2, Basic, 120m, 1D10+3 (E), Pen: 2, Clip: 30, AP: 2, Overcharge (5)] 4kg
  • Lasgun [RoF: 2, Basic, 160m, 1D10+2 (E), Pen:0, Clip:24, Rld:2AP, Overcharge(3), Reliable, Red Dot] 4kg
  • Hand Cannon [RoF: 1/2, 60m, 1D10+2 (I), Pen:2, Clip:3, Rld:4AP, Close Quarters] 3kg
  • Shotgun [RoF: 1/2, 30m, 1D10+2 (I), Pen:0, Clip:6, Rld:6AP, Spray] 5kg
  • BQ Fervious Shortsaber (Light; RoA WSb–3; D10+1+Sb; Rending; Balanced)
  • Chain Blade (Light; AB-2; D5+Ab; Rend; Pen SB-5; Tearing)
  • Autopistol w/ Silencer [RoF: 3, Light, 60m, D10, Clip: 12, Rld: 2AP, Close Quarters, Silent (4)]
  • Laspistol [RoF: 1, Light, 80m, D10+1, Clip: 12, Rld: 1AP, Reliable, Close Quarters]
  • Knife
  • Toxic Grenade (8 Blast; Toughness or Weakened DoF)

Armour:

  • Flak Armour [H:4, B:5, A:5, L:5 - Max. AB 6] 12kg

Equipment:
Combat Vest 2kg, Grapnel and Line 2kg, 12 Lho sticks, Magnoculars 1kg, Stummer 2kg, Bionic Eyes

  • Stored:

He was going to die. Today was the day. There was no escaping it. He stared upwards from his back at the lush, green canopy above, pierced like bullet holes by spears of golden sunlight. He could taste copper in his mouth, and at least a few loose teeth rattled against their more secure brethren. The loamy smells of the forest floor, decaying leaves and sodden earth, filtered in through the one nostril which was not blocked with congealing blood. He could feel a warm wetness spreading down his torso, mixing with the sticky sweat from the days hunt and pooling under his back. Internal bleeding, most likely. Puncture wounds, definitely. Probably at least half a dozen broken ribs. A sudden shiver made his muscles tense and bring a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth. Femur. Now that’s broken. Sure as sure. Left shoulder. Dislocated. He could hear voices, muffled, as if spoken under water or through thick foam. They sounded worried, scared, anxious. He wasn’t afraid. Not of dying. He had been preparing to die for as long as he could remember. On Scintilla, a boy of 15, standing shoulder to shoulder with other bright-eyed fools like himself, Sergeant Corbel screaming at him, always screaming. You’re meat. You’re maggots. You’re fodder for the war machine. You’re offal. You’re bullet-shields for more worthy men. At 16, his first real wound. A range accident. Las-bolt to the leg. The fault was not his, but he was punished all the same. And have you learned to not get hit by your fellow cadet’s fire? Sergeant Corbel had screamed as the baton rose and fell, leaving great welts and marks on his shoulders and back. You won’t even get the chance to be killed by the enemy. You’ll step one foot in a warzone and some Commissar will blow you away for incompetence. A few years later, on Monrass, a verdant backwater world the Imperium had long forgotten, tasked with clearing the native fauna to make room for colonizers. He must have been 18. His first posting with the 66th Scintilla. Stalking and hunting the foul Ixious, a lion-sized creature with too many eyes and poisonous spines. He’d been stuck a dozen times by one thrashing beast, spent 3 months bedridden and convulsing with feverous delusions and seizures. Medicae said he’d died at least twice during that time, only to be brought back, back to serve the Guard once more. There were other times, times when death had been apparent and insistent, looming ever-present on his shoulder, whispering. Tumbling and slipping through his mind, images and flashes of mostly forgotten encounters with the grinning skull-face of death.
A sudden vibration in the earth below roused him from his reverie. The light above dimmed and was blotted out by a large shape, looming. He caught a glimpse of a massively fanged mouth, scales the size of his hand retracting to show bare teeth and purple gums. Eyes, too many damn eyes, considered him, their stygian blackness containing a profound sense of hopelessness. He felt something heavy in his hand, something worn and smooth, familiar. With a grunt of effort, bringing with it more spikes of pain, he hefted the object and pressed it into the shape above him. The dry clack of a hammer meeting empty space signalled that his trusty shot-gun was empty, and he let the weapon fall to his side. He was going to die. The shape leant in closer, thick rivulets of cold saliva dripping from its exposed canines and splashing onto his rent and bloody chest. Maybe this time, I’ll die for real? He closed his eyes, and waited. He felt more than heard the sudden displacement of air as the shape lunged toward him. His eyes snapped open at the last moment, just in time to see the beast’s lunge arrested by a meter and a half of dulled steel thrust suddenly into its gaping maw. The blade wrenched from the beast’s mouth, shearing off one of the serrated teeth and sending it spinning into the undergrowth. Craning his neck back, he could see the owner of the blade. A curiously dressed man, shoulders clad in heavy furs no doubt taken from some shaggy monstrosity, yet underneath, wore finery laced in silk and leather. The blade darted forward, leaving a deep furrow on the beast’s snout, eliciting a squeal of pain. The swordsman effortlessly stepped around his prone form, masterful footwork barely leaving a shoe-print in the soft ground and struck again, this time taking a sizeable chunk of the beast’s shoulder out along with a wash of violet ichor. From his vantage on his back, he could only look on as the swordsman danced his dance of death; striking, ducking, dodging, slashing, stabbing, darting. Soon the beast was covered in a sheen of fluid, it’s once green scales now awash in indigo blood. Stumbling, tendons slashed and useless, the beast intoned a low gurgle, tilting it’s head back and venting it’s frustration at the canopy. Two steps, and the swordsman’s blade was buried to the hilt, a full foot of steel protruding from the beast’s horned skull. The earth shook again as the beast collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The trees over-head once again filled his vision, the strength needed to watch the now ended encounter rapidly fleeing him.
Perhaps I won’t die after all? I guess there is always next time…

Dalton Greaves was a member of the 2nd Recon 66th Scintilla Guard from M41.889 to M41.896, at which point in time he was sequestered to the Inquisition. What led to his recruitment took place on the small frontier world of Vaxanide in the Malfian Sub-Sector. Vaxanide, a poorly supplied and desperate world that sits at the edge of the Calixis Sector, is a lawless rock which contains but a single struggling Hive. During the heresy of Mielira the Bloody, the hard-pressed Arbites were forced to call upon the nearest Imperial Guard contingent for aid, the 2nd Recon answered the call under the direction of Inquisitor Skane. Dalton fought alongside the Inquisitor and his retinue against the most foul heretic, and proved his worth during the subsequent debriefings to be clear of taint and sound of mind. Greaves has thus far been assigned to several small-scale mission in order properly develop his skill-set within the Inquisition, the most recent of which has left him on the lush feral world of Fervious, masquerading as a mercenary for one of the noble hunting houses. Greaves was sent to Fervious in M41.897 to prepare for his Inquisitor's arrival, given the order to integrate himself with the local culture until he receives word from his Inquisitor, Forseith. It has been 10 years since that order…


Starting Gear:
Bionic Eyes, Stummer, Hand Cannon, Shotgun

Upgrades:

Starting: 500/500
Agi (I) [150]
Per (I) [150]
Heightened Senses (Sight) [200]

Level 1: 1000/1000
BS (I) [300]
Heightened Senses (Hearing) [200]
WP (I) [300]
Overwatch [200]

Level 2: 2500/2500
Weapon Training (Low Tech) [400]
Quick Draw [200]
Evasive [200]
Cold Hearted [200]
Stealth [100]
Agi (II) [200]
Per (II) [200]

Level 3: 4500/4500
Agi (III) [250]
BS (II) [400]
Per (III) [250]
Evade +10 [200]
Stealth +10 [200]
Stealth +20 [300]
Specialist (Imperial Guard) [400]

Level 4: 7050/7000
Hard Target [200]
Step Aside [400]
WP (II) [300]
Light Sleeper [200]
Leap Up [200]
Rite of Clearing [200]
Rapid Reload [200]
Target Selection [200]
Resist (Fear) [200]
Observe [150]
Observe +10 [300]

Level 5: 9900/9999
Tech Use [150]
Independent Targeting [400]
Toughness [300]
Navigate +10 [300]
Hawk's Eye [400]
Crippling Shot [600]
Run and Gun [400]
Evade +20 [300]

Level 6: 11,300/12,100
Acrobatics [100]
Acrobatics +10 [200]
BS (III) [500]
Peer (Imperial Guard) [200]
Per (IV) [250]
Subterfuge [150]

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