Our Posse

These are the characters that are currently active and playing in our campaign. Personalities are from the character's point-of-view, written by the players

Stats: Want to know what makes these wasters tick? House Rules: The custom rules we use in my campaign.
Quotes: Sound bytes from recent sessions. Rather extensive by now.

Yu Sha Mo

Occupation: Martial Artist

Appearance: A short, wiry Asian man, Yu is hardly physically imposing. It looks as though his body has forsaken fat entirely, and is composed of only muscles, sinew and bone. At 5'7" and perhaps 130 lbs soaking wet, he is still a fearsome fighter. Lightening fast, he is a blur in battle.

Yu generally wears a tattered black t-shirt and equally worn jeans. He carries his trade goods in an old CSA army surplus pack and a bandolier of knives crosses his chest. His long black hair is pulled back in a ponytail. On his left ribcage are burn marks in the shape of a fist. It should have long healed, but was left there by a power kung-fu master who defeated Yu and still pains him to this day.

Personality: Hello! Looking for something? You’ve come to the right man. I’ve got prime salvage from all over the states, right here at bargain prices. See these batteries? Fresh as if they were just out of a factory.

No, I don’t care a gun. A gun is not necessary when your body is a weapon, with a properly trained and focused mind to wield it. My fists, my feet, and my knives will not run out of ammunition, will they? Besides, my sifu used to say that a man with a gun is at a severe disadvantage in a fight. You see, if your mind is focused only on-

My apologies. What? Nothing to trade? Well, that’s- a biker gang, you say? I see. Well. Sigh… Perhaps I might be of some assistance?

Background: Yu Sha Mo grew up an orphan on the streets of Beijing. He stole for food, lived in subway tunnels and dodged the regime’s police to grub out a living. When he was thirteen, he made the mistake of picking the pocket of a kung fu master on his way through the poor district. Instead of beating him or having him thrown in jail, the master took young Yu in as a pupil. He trained with his master for five years, helping him run a small odds-and-ends shop in downtown Beijing.

A few days after his eighteenth birthday, and around the beginning of the Last War, Yu came home to find the shop ablaze and his sifu nowhere to be seen. He hunted far and wide for the perpetrators, but not one trail presented itself. During his search, Yu’s talents as a martial artist were noticed by an Agency operative. The agent convinced Yu to travel to the United States to train US Special Forces in exchange for any information about his sifu’s disappearance the Agency could find. Desperate for any lead, Yu accepted and came to NorCal six months before Judgment Day. There, he trained US Rangers and Green Berets in the fighting arts, all the while waiting for word from the Agency. Word never came, and the Four Horsemen’s stomp across America ended hope for Yu of finding what happened to his master.

Today, Yu works his way across the wastes as a trader. He has slowly drifted east from the Great Maze across the Rockies in thirteen years, looking for new scavenge sites and new markets to sell his wares. A small part of him refuses to give up hope of finding what happened to his sifu, but he rarely lets it get the best of his judgment.

Shothkovar

Occupation: Slayer

Appearance: Dark and foreboding, 6'2, 170 lbs, Shoth is a tall and husky woman. Her clothes are dark and close fitting, to hide the strange greenish veins around her neck. She also has two ring like tattoos on her arms, which are actually scars. A menacing aura surrounds Shoth, betraying the darker force with in her to those brave enough to confront her.

Personality: Upon first meeting her, most sane people will move to the next county. Shoth is not exactly the sweet town girl you meet in a friendly tavern. For starters, the evil aura and gritty demeanor should clue you in. If that doesn't, maybe it's the large steel sword she keeps strapped to her back, or the odd way she fires warning shots from her D-20 Assault Rifle if you so much as smile at her. And if all else fails, Shoth's supernatural strength and agility will be enough to convince you while she pulls your knife out of her chest and hurls you through the wall. While Shoth's personality is anything but warm or fuzzy, she does have a sliver of hope hiding behind that shadowy glare. For all her snake-biting and wrath-seeking, Shoth would sooner save an innocent life than waste her time making friends with a biker gang. In fact, all the good she does with her "special" powers seems to piss off the manitou that did her in more an more. And Shoth's vengeful spirit is gettin' plenty out of the boxing match inside her head. Still, its probably a good idea to keep your shotgun loaded, in case she loses. And knowin' Shoth, she probably won't mind, as long as she goes out swinging.

History: Shoth was born Sridya Jasmine Clark on November 9th, 2009 in a nice suburban home in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Her father, a soldier for the Southern Alliance, and her mother an immigrant from Northern India; she remembers little else. Shoth's only surviving memory from her childhood is seeing them die in a horrible accident when she was 7. Barely able to recover, young Jasmine was taken in by her uncle Butch, who raised her in a shack outside of Santa Fe. He taught her most everything she knows about huntin', shootin', and survivin' in the great outdoors.

When she turned 19, Jasmine joined the SA military. Earning the nickname "Jazz" and proving adept at her training, she quickly moved in to the ranks of special ops. Jazz moved about the world as a saboteur, soldier, spy, and even assassin, rarely witness to the damage she caused. It wasn't until the summer of '38 that her conscience hit her full force. Unfortunately, the corps figured she wanted to move out even before Jazz did. In her last mission, Jazz and her buddies were investigating a nest of uglies out in the desert. When Jazz stormed the mother scorpion with her gun, she realized too late that she was shootin' blanks, and the rest of the gang was on the bluff watching her. Before Jazz could get away, the thing grabbed each of her arms with its claws, and pierced right through her chest with a wicked stinger.

When she awakened, she was somewhere else, no troops, no beasties. Figuring some miracle saved her from being bug fodder, Jazz high-tailed it outta there. She knew that the corps would be back to finish the job, but she didn't know when. The next six months proved ironically, harrowing. Constant dreams of murder and bloodshed haunted her while she dodged from town to town, hiding out. Jazz thought it was that conscience again, not realizing the truth behind it. When she managed to hide out with her uncle, it finally came full circle. After a night of tortured nightmares, she awoke to find herself covered in blood, but not her own. When she found uncle Butch hanging from the ceiling, life took a turn for the nasty.

It was then that poor Jazz realized she was Harrowed. Then again, Jazz wasn't quite sure what a Harrowed was, just that they were people her team tracked down, psychos mostly, and they took quite a lickin' before being subdued. Hoping that there was a cure, Jazz went in search of a man she knew back in her spec-ops mind known as "The Practitioner". In a secluded underground base near Deseret, Jazz found him and his team, and pleaded for help. The Practitioner checked her out and offered a solution. He would keep her in cryogenic stasis while he worked on a cure. When she periodically awoke, it would be to "test" the new methods he used and see if there was any progress. Giving in to the scheme, Jazz found herself sleeping longer and less painfully.

That was until the Last War.

When Jazz woke up for the last time, she had to literally break out of the cryo-tank. She found the lab in ruins, and most of the power running on empty. From a lone computer Jazz deduced the horrifying truth. The end had come, six years ago. After the blast, the lab was partially damaged and abandoned. Her tank still managed to run on a generator until the juice ran out. At that point, the manitou in her managed to pull her back a second time. Only this wasn't the worst of it. Apparently the whole operation was a sham. The Practitioner had been using Jazz as an experimental killing-machine, trying to learn to control the manitou without an AI cage. After a few months in the tank, he'd wake her up. If it was Jazz talkin', something minor and happy would be planned, and she would go back to sleep. But if it was the manitou, then the Practitioner would let her loose until she had to shut down, at which time she could be retrieved and put back.

The whole time she had merely been another soldier for another corps. This time, Jazz snapped for good. She realized she was a pawn her whole life. First for the corps, then for the Practitioner, now for the manitou, and it was time to pull the strings down. Since the first two were supposedly obliterated, Jazz decided to lay her vengeful wrath upon the darkest of the three. The best part was, she had the perfect payback. All the while Jazz had wanted to atone for her previous crimes. Now, she could use the very evil trying to control her against its own kind. Taking decades of combat prowess and tracking skills, combined with the latent powers of a Harrowed, and the first of the Slayers was born. Deciding to erase her violent past, Jazz changed her name to Shothkovar (meaning "Wrath upon Darkness" in Ancient Vedic Script). She loaded up on gear from the lab, a spare gun, ammo, and armor, plus a strange samurai katana used in some twisted experiment, and headed out for the nearest nest of evil. Now Shoth wanders the Wasted West in search of the kinfolk of her noggin' buddy. Each monster she slays is another slap in its sorry manitou face. 'Course, the pendulum swings both ways, and Shoth has to fight to keep from paying her own dues. Still, she knows that when its all over, the bugger's going with her, and until then, there's plenty of Hell out there to start paying.

Shoth's first known adventure was helping a settlement in Nevada. They desperately needed a shipment from a caravan rig that was stolen by muties. Together with a road warrior, a radiation shaman, and another Harrowed, they infiltrated a blasted town and found the cargo. The other warrior died in the attempt to a lurker. The settlement and the tollpost involved in the incident were grateful, despite Shoth's unnerving appearance.

In the next adventure, Shothkovar encountered the road warrior Hazard, and with the help of an unlikely band of rugged wasters, took out a local biker gang. The threat of the black hats separated the group, but some of them managed to regroup for a time on a new quest. They met Jenny, a Law Dog trying to help relocate a hunted group of survivors. Together with the gunslinger Ray, the survivor Alfonso, and the kid, Jamie, they managed to help. However, a nemesis known only as "the Old Man" whom Alfonso had encountered before was responsible for summoning evil tech spirits in changing the landscape in to an evil realm, complete with mutating the poor townsfolk in to tech zombies. However, the group managed to slay the forces at work, and although the Old Man was killed, they unleashed a vengeful gun spirit. Shoth and Hazard remained in Hope Remaining for a time to make sure nothing more untoward occurred. They soon met up with a British cyborg, and a radiation shaman named Johnny Two-bears.

Their next adventure led them to a local waster town harried by biker gangs. Although they took out the gangs, it turned out that they were in the service of the black hats, with two automatons and a raptor in their wake. Hazard, with the help of Johnny's powers, sacrificed his life to save the others and destroy the automatons. He told Shoth to save herself, and the after landing in a cactus, Shoth could only watch as another grim waster died fighting for a dream. Johnny and Shoth continued their journey for a time, and met with the Templar John Wayne.

Finding yet another blasted survivor town in need, they voyaged in to the depths of a wasted city to uncover the mysterious cause of a polluted water supply. A doombringer and her legion of muties was at work, and thanks to Johnny's rad blast, was no longer an issue. After this episode, Shoth may have lost control to Shadow, but she traveled on to the North, and to Idaho. Shoth's first encounter with the Boise Horror happened when she and Li, a martial arts master, wandered upon Boise during their journey through the wastes. During this time, Simon was ill, and they needed help from Modeen, the leader of the new Anti-Templars, who was planning on seriously harming Boise. Unfortunately, with Simon's illness, and the lack of aid from nearby templars, they were without help. Thus, Shoth and her new friend Li were employed. During the adventure, they met with a number of unusual denizens of the area, but were finally able to make it to the base of the bikers and Modeen. After saving a young girl, they managed to uncover Modeen's weakness, and uncovered the sword needed to destroy him. The battle was intense, but Li used his skills to stop the bikers and followers while Shothkovar was locked in mortal combat with Modeen. In the end, she succeeded, using her supernatural powers, and Modeen was slain. For their efforts in aiding the Templars, Shoth and Li were made companions.

Shoth remained in Boise for a month's time, becoming friends (though at a distance) with some of the people there. However, Simon needed help in going to Junkyard for a meeting with other forces in the Wasted West. When her old companions appeared, they decided to help Simon together. Their journey was dangerous, as Shoth's darker side surfaced and the forces of the Combine attacked. In the end, the Boise Horror surfaced in its true form, as Simon himself, and the company was forced to fight him. Although Shoth tried to fight, her nature was overcome by the forces of darkness, but her posse prevailed in the end. Nonetheless, the concept of such a powerful figure as Simon, falling to a demon alike the one controlling herself has left Shothkovar with a new fear and uncertainty of her future and mission in life.

Shadow: The greater manitou inside Shoth's head has chosen her for unknown reasons. It seems almost unclear whether Shadow decided on Shoth from the beginning, long before she even joined the SA Special Operations Corps. For Shoth even now, due to the visions of her parents fiery deaths, believes that Shadow may have been somehow responsible for the corruption of young Jasmine. There is no proof in this, as Shadow could be using those same memories to merely haunt Shoth.

Shadow is an entity unlike any other. It is neither male, nor female, though sometimes personifies aspects of both. Shadow visually takes the form of a long, lanky shape, with sharp claws and spines all over its body, though it has no form other than the pale blackness. It is a corruption of Shothkovar's shape, and if seen by another would look similar to her own "shadow". The main difference is that Shadow never carries a sword. It cannot use amaterasu, for whatever reason, so usually resorts to using knives or guns, its preference when controlling Shoth. Shadow likes using fire, and has no fear of it, especially since Shoth herself has an innate phobia of it.

When Shoth is in control, Shadow is usually asleep. As a manitou, it often finds this constant suppression bothersome, and is also angered at Shoth's using it against its fellow brethren. At the same time, Shadow's tactics and motives are unknown to Shoth, as she can only sense what it is. The only time that the two of them actually meet is in Shoth's dreams. At these times, they generally argue, in the inky blackness of the id. Shadow betrays some of its secrets, and its purpose. But Shoth will also sometimes ask for favors, at the cost of losing control. There is no love between the two. Even the concept of survival is not unified, Shoth desires death more than anything else, to end the evil she brings upon the world. But Shadow wants only to survive, and will do anything it can to stop Shoth from any act of suicide. When Shadow is awake, it guides Shoth very carefully, sometimes without her awareness of it. Slight whispers, added thoughts, misplaced memories, anything it can use to its advantage. After all, Shadow spends more time in Shoth's subconscious than she does.

When Shoth loses control, Shadow takes advantage as long as it can. Its understanding for self-preservation means that it will try to maintain a close friendship with its friends, but it can't resist wreaking havoc whenever possible. It especially enjoys being bloodthirsty and malicious. If Shadow is ever in control and is given a decision, it chooses the path of greatest evil. Some clues that only a good friend of Shoth (like Li or Johnny) would guess at as to her losing control are: fighting without the katana, but only knives, guns, or other weapons, frequent smiles or laughter, a dark glint in the eyes, or any action of self-preservation over heroism. However, Shadow is no fool, and is cautious to prevent betraying these differences. Except when it can have a little fun.

Quote: "Do that again and I'll hack off your other arm, just more slowly."

Alfonso

Occupation: Survivor

Appearance: 6'7", 200 lbs., Caucasian, short-cropped black hair, never without sunglasses (which hide cat-like eyes)

Personality: Alfonso never speaks. However, that does not inhibit his wry sense of humor nor his ability to shoot things.

History: Living in a medium sized city during the final stages of the war before the bomb, Alfonso was an exceptionally shy individual. After the explosion, however, he quickly learned the law of the jungle and holed up in what was once his house near the outskirts of town. For several years he seldom ventured from his house, and then it was to scout out what new abominations had spawned between there and the open road to his freedom. The time he spent there earned him a mutation: he was graced with cat eyes and a craving for really rare steak. Eventually he had scrounged up enough ammunition and weaponry and found a car sufficient to break him out of his prison-like hometown. He very nearly died in the attempt but managed to emerge from his town and now rides around, poking his nose into corners and helping people out of the same situations he was once trapped in. However, he does so in silence: the time alone in the city gave him a mild dose of insanity, and it doesn't look like it'll be wearing off anytime soon.

Quote: (nod of head and indication of "Life Insurance Policy" written in white paint on the barrel of his hunting rifle)

Crazy Eddie

Occupation: Junker

Appearance: Eddie is of medium height and a tough, wiry build. He wears an army jacket and ragged pair of blue jeans, carrying all his possessions in his army backpack. His hair is unkempt and shaggy, hiding a big bullet scar across his right temple. Eddie looks the part of a junker, with small techno-talismans, bits of salvage, and bulging pockets everywhere on his person.

Personality: Eddie is a gentle, caring soul; a rarity in this post-apocalyptic age. Though not a pacifist by any means, he does try to avoid fights out of a dislike for needless bloodshed. That said, he is an implacable and relentless enemy if provoked. Eddie is rather introspective, keeping a journal of his travels and his designs for devices. His curiosity and hunger for new knowledge has gotten him into many a sticky situation. He tends to be something of a loner, mostly due to his habit of talking to his browser spirit, Spanner. For some reason, people tend to look at you askance when you're talking to thin air...

History: Sometime in late 2086, Eddie lay on the side of the road out in the desert, bleeding to death from a bullet wound that just clipped the side of his head. He was found in the nick of time by a kindly old junker who luckily had a few custom-built medpacks with him. The old junker nursed him back to heal, and seeing the gift for junker magic within Eddie, guided him on his spiritual path to techno-shamanism. After a year, Eddie again went out into the world, to wander and perhaps bring a little hope to the barren wastes. The bullet wound theat so nearly killed him left Eddie with little memory of his former life. He remebers absolutely nothing of the years after Judgement Day, and only scattered fragments of his life before that. They couldn't have been pleasant, however. At night, he is haunted by flashes of horrible visions to fade upon waking. He still searchs for clues to his identity.

Quote: "How am do I know I'm not crazy? I just do. Maybe I was a psychologist..."

Jonny Two Bears

Occupation: Trash Shaman

Appearance: Jonny wears a pretty standard waster's outfit, a pair of really ragged jeans and a homemade shirt. He's got small talismans hanging from his beat up leather belt and a backpack. His face is weathered and leathery, but his eyes sparkle with mirth and his white teeth are often bared in his infectious (or so he thought) smile. He's got his lustrous black hair cut short in a crew-cut, and stands about 6' tall.

Personality: Jonny is a generally happy man; he doesn't really care about creature comforts much and he would rather be sleeping out under the stars. His main goal in life is to make life easier for the next generation. If that means having some .50 caliber differences with those who don't, then so be it.

History: Jonny has lived almost all of his life on a reservation and raised by his parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, older sisters, older brothers... you get the picture. His father had the greatest influence on him. He was the guy that everyone came to when they needed advice. He passed his skill at listening and problem solving to Jonny. His community was pretty much unaffected by the ghost rock bombs because they were so remote and isolated that no one bothered to target them. In recent years the traffic on the backroads that surround Jonny's village has increased and with it has come more ganger activity. The community has steadily increased it's vigilance and readiness to defend itself. Jonny decided to leave after hearing rumors about outside help and after a young man stumbled into the village and gave Jonny a note for a woman named Shothkovar.

Quote: "See, he got the message. The .50 caliber message."