Arnold Boone Sept 10, 2015 12:26:14 GMT
Post by bear on Sept 10, 2015 12:26:14 GMT
|Strength||5||Power Strikes|| ||Alertness||4 ||Danger Sense|
|Ironhide||2 ||Can soak Lethal at DC 7||Hunted||2||Marked for death by the Legion (Brand on the right side of his neck)|
|Toughness||XP||Naked Skin has 1 DT, |
Stacking with armor
|Intolerance||1||Hitting women: +2 to attack DCs any time he tries to hit a woman for any reason.|
|Tier 1||Tier 2||Tier 3|
| ||Metal Armor|
-1 to all Athletics
and Agility rolls
Self-damage on Botch
+2 to attack rolls
Standard Unarmed DC
-1 to Dodge
-3 to pure Athletics/Agility rolls
A massive chainsaw of the type that was once used for cutting the thickest of tree limbs. Powered by an internal fission battery inside an armored case. The chassis has been modified for combat, with a greatsword-style grip mounted below the engine and a simple squeeze switch that allows him to start the saw and rev it to max all in the same movement.
Heavy MacheteA massive chopping machete that most men would need two hands to use.
The blade is a simple square cleaver over three feet long, and Boone wields it
easily using the simple one-handed hilt wrapped with old leather.
A suit based on the design of pre-war motorcycle leathers, with armor plates forged from scrap steel over that. It's made from the toughest brahmin hide there is, stitched in multiple layers. A steel breastplate sits atop that, and steel plates have been stitched to the leather suit in vulnerable places.
Boone's armor includes heavy leather cloves with hard steel plates sewn into the knuckles and fingers. They're too small to interfere with using weapons, but if he smacks you in the face with a steel clad fist, you'll feel the hell out of it.
|Scars||Crucifixion marks on wrists and legs, |
assorted blade scars on torso and thighs.
|Notable Features||Aside from his enormous size, hugely muscled build, and hideous scars, the most notable feature of Boone is his leonine mane of blonde hair. |
Arnold Boone is the child of farmers on a small homestead far out in the empty wastes. His father was a former Khan, tired of their way of life and on the run from some bad mistakes he'd made among them. His mother was beauty from a strong and warlike tribe who called themselves the Deathclaws. Boone's father sought shelter among the Deathclaws when he left his old life, and they accepted him as a warrior, eventually giving him their blessing to marry their tribal princess and set off on his own, where they had two children. Boone's little sister Anna idolized him, and he was her protector, letting nothing even come close to hurting her. Life was hard for the little family growing up, but it was free, and they loved each other dearly. That all changed when his parents died of a desert fever, leaving him alone to safeguard his sister at age fourteen.
The farm was too far out on the frontier to ask anyone for help, and that wasn't the way Boone and Anna had been raised anyway. Stubbornly, they tried to hold on, but two children simply couldn't make the parched ground produce food, nor could they hold off the many things that threatened them. Finally, a year later, Boone made a hard choice. He and Anna (now twelve years old, and growing into a real beauty) left the homestead, trying to make it back to civilized lands. Unfortunately the desert is a harsh place, and they soon ended up lost and starving. One day, they came upon a camp full of hard men and women with eyes like gun barrels who just laughed when Boone asked if they could spare any food.
Realizing they'd just stumbled into a raider camp, Boone acted fast. The one who'd laughed was brutally clubbed to the ground by a huge fist, and he faced the rest without flinching. He told them that he would fight for them, help them rob decent folk, if only they would protect and provide for him and his sister. Intrigued by the fire in his eyes, the leaders agreed and Boone joined the gang. None of them had really liked old Ratface anyway. For the next fifteen years, Boone ran with the bandits, learning to fight and live off the land. He became a man with a hair trigger, ready to gleefully deal out violence at the slightest provocation. All of his drive was focused on protecting Anna, because as her beauty grew, the rough men of the gang all had their eye on her. More than once, he killed another gang member to protect her, brutally beating them to death with his bare hands. He eventually rose to lead the gang, developing a reputation as a protector of women. It was the one habit of decent folk that they hadn't been able to strip from him. Life was harsh, and a lot of people would call him evil, but he and Anna were safe and that was all that mattered. . . until the Legion came.
The gang had drifted into southern Utah in their travels, and it was there that they finally met a foe too tough to fight: a vast army of disciplined fanatics, traveling beneath a standard that displayed a bull on a blood-red field. The Legion rolled over Boone's gang like an avalanche over a sapling, and there was nothing they could do to stop them. Boone fought hard, desperate to protect Anna, but in the chaos of the battle she was killed, hit in the head by a stray bullet when one of Boone's men panicked and wildly fired a machine pistol at anything that moved. Enraged, Boone went berserk, hacking at everything around him until the Legion finally brought him down. He was the only member of his gang to survive, and the Legion recognized the power of the warrior they had defeated. Boone found himself conscripted into the Legion's forces, put through their brutally harsh training. One in ten recruits were killed during the training, and the rest were bombarded with physical and psychological conditioning techniques, designed to make them fanatically loyal to Caesar and unafraid of death. Boone had little left to live for after Anna's death, and didn't fight them, letting them mold him into their weapon. Eventually, he emerged from the other side as a full Legionary and was sent on a raiding party.
The Legion rolled into the small town of Raindrop Fields and destroyed it with their usual efficiency. Boone fought as hard as any of them, obeying orders without thought. It wasn't until after the battle that his conditioning cracked. His squad had found a young girl in a basement, and they threw her down in a square, telling her she was a slave now and had to service them, and then attempting to rape her. The girl. . . looked like Anna. In a rush, Boone's fury broke through his brainwashing, and he killed his entire squad in a red rage. It took two others to finally bring him down, and the girl was able to escape in the confusion. Boone was now at the mercy of the Legion's justice. He was beaten and tortured for hours, branded as a traitor, and finally bound to a cross with barbed wire and left to die. For three days, Boone clung to life as he hung on the cross, slowly bleeding out, the sun baking him to a crisp. Then a merchant caravan found the ruins of the town, and took a great personal risk, cutting him down and nursing him back to health over the course of the next six months. He worked as their guard for a year after that, managing to earn himself a kit and some gear, until they reached Oasis Outpost. The caravan master told him that the safest place for him in all the Wastes was here, and left him to fend for himself.