For notes - Charecter descriptions

I typed up a brief "story" to work out how i felt the characters are supposed to look for a different story line i am working on. I am planning on continuing the story line i have posted before, but this is to get my fingers warmed up to begin again.

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The sudden gush of wind brought in a fresh supply of ash and grit, while stirring up the substantial amount of particles already in place. If it were not for the protective masks everyone was wearing not a soul could keep from coughing. Without exception, the entire room’s attention was drawn to the now slowly closing door of the small trading post. It was not the appearance of potential customers that confused the people already there, it was the fact that they had apparently ventured out in the midst of a pretty good ash storm.

The industrial wastelands of Necromunda were not to be traveled lightly in what might locally be considered ‘good’ weather, but to move about in the middle of the sudden storms that often spring up without warning – often lasting for several days – was to invite death to your door. It did not matter if you were going several kilometers, or across town. The chemical clouds and resins that make up the Ash Wastes were known to strip a man down to the bone if he were not properly protected, let alone exposing yourself for a sustained journey. It was nearly impossible to predict what kinds of hazards were stirred up when Necromunda got her dander up, best to stay indoors, keep your head down and your respirator properly in place. But the three strangers that now showed up on Ramic’s doorstep had obviously come from some where outside the walls of the little Shanty town of Hive’s End, because he knew every one in town and he had not seen these people before.

The man in front wore a heavy ankle length duster that flowed smoothly despite being made of a heavy leather-like fabric. His face was covered by a full face respirator and a deep hood from the coat. Barely poking out from beneath the hood was the unmistakable brim of a hat from Lord Helmawr’s planetary defense force, which matched the mid-shin length boots he was wearing. Strapped to the man’s back were both a stuffed medium sized pack, and a completely wrapped long rifle. Those who have spent any amount of time outside the massive hives of Necromunda recognized him as a Nomad Scout, and apparently a fairly well seasoned one by the way he carried himself.

The second one through the door was adorned in a pair of heavy combat trousers that had obviously been salvaged as there were several holes revealing another layer of heavy fabric beneath to protect the wearer from the hostile elements. Upon the feet was a pair of mismatched boots. The head was wrapped in a similar fabric to what was underneath the pants, surrounding a pair of goggles and a dual filter respirator that covered the face. The torso was adorned in a waste length jacket with a heavy zipper up the front. It had a set of pockets on the arms as well as on the chest, which revealed that the wearer to be that of a woman. Upon her back was a pack similar to that of the nomad, and a shotgun with an improvised harness was slung from her right shoulder. A bandoleer of ammunition went across her other shoulder and down across the chest, along with the hodgepodge of clothing showed her to be a resident of some, as of yet, unfamiliar shanty town.

Ramic felt ill at ease. If it came down to protecting his wares he doubted any of his current patrons would lift a finger to help him as the denizens of the Ash Wastes Shanty towns were well known for their lack of bravery, and even more for their lack of tolerance of outsiders. More likely they would take cover and pick over whatever was left. He peered down over his own single filter respirator, currently draped around his neck, at his own attire. He had barely modified his gang colors that he brought with him when he fled Hive: Primus. Although he now wore a heavy laborer’s jump suit underneath his rust colored Orlock vest and trousers, it was obvious to which house his allegiance had been to. His boots were standard house issue, as were his fatigue like pants. Although his face was now often protected by the respirator and goggles (usually planted firmly above the white and black bandana he always wore on his forehead), it was obvious where he was from, something that did not endear him to his new neighbors.

Before the Enforcers had come calling he and his mates had created quite a little fiefdom, and although he had not been the leader of the ‘Iron Skulls’, he had been a trusted and proven member. There had been many a time he had out drawn his opponents to get his shots off, blazing away with his twin semi-automatics. That was before the heavy hand of Lord Helmawr had declared him and his gang outlaws. He was the last of the Skulls now, and that was only because he had braved the wastes. Although the formidable reach of the Enforcers is vast, even they thought twice to venture outside the protective walls of the hive cities. Glancing from hip to hip he felt confident that he could hold his own if he was pressed to do so, despite the bulge from the right leg under the Nomad’s coat. That is until he caught sight of the last man to come through the door.

The last one to enter Ramic’s humble little store was not all that impressive to look at. He stood around one and three quarter meters tall, and he was not particularly big to look at either. The boots looked familiar but he could not place them. The heavy pants were similar to that of the woman’s, but above the waist he wore a threadbare shirt that was barely covering some kind of bodysuit. He was unarmed except for the heavy staff in his right hand. It was made of some kind of organic material that was interlaced with grains of metal – like the two materials had somehow grown and matured together. What was disconcerting was that he did not appear to be wearing any sort of respirator or eye protection, but that was not what gave him pause. It was the sound of something he had not heard since he felt compelled to leave the hive. It was the sound that many a person who had gone against the rule of Lord Helmawr came to dread. From among the strangers wove a mechanical construct known as a Cyber Mastiff. He could not believe that he was seeing such a thing out in the wastes, and wondered why it was on his doorstep now. He was not as sure that he could take that thing down, magnum loads or not.



Notes: Nomad is known as Jar’d
The woman is known as Yeve
The shop keep (Ramic) is the 3rd supporting character
The last man is our ‘Hero’ Jakob