Don't mind me, still deciding on class... Should be settled out before too long  ;D<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://68.media.tumblr.com/1614909bfc5217e10610f27c691e0f30/tumblr_oj0pkzJOHp1utyn51o3_540.jpg)<br/>(https://68.media.tumblr.com/a8ef60845a817727523b2952973de606/tumblr_oj0pkzJOHp1utyn51o2_1280.png)<br/>(https://68.media.tumblr.com/130d32c5cc3a73c17b64f4004bdcf4e3/tumblr_oj0pkzJOHp1utyn51o1_1280.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rix<br/><strong>Race:</strong>Ratfolk<br/><strong>Class:</strong>Unchained Rogue (Numerian Scavenger Archetype)<br/><strong>Campaign Trait:</strong>Against the Technic League<br/><strong>Character Sheet:</strong>http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1053426<br/><br/><strong>Background:</strong>Rix was born into captivity. not far outside the Silver mount. Collared and muzzled, she was sent into the ruins of the Fallen Star to fetch things for the masters. When she grew older, she was used for manual labor as well, cleaning bits and pieces, learning how to re-assemble them, and how to identify what was useful and trash. Everything went to the Masters. If you went on a Dive and came back empty-handed, you were punished; denied food, or beaten, or - if you failed really badly - sent to the experiments. Most of the slaves didn't come back from the Experiments, and those who did... well, they were a good case study for why you should do good work and not get sent to the Experiments! It was a hard life, a brutal existence, with the only possible escape from the torment being either death in a Dive, or becoming a whip-swinging lickspittle for the Masters. You lived in the warren, you ate your mash, you did your dives, and eventually you would die and be carried away. That was life.<br/><br/>...At least until it wasn't. New faces appeared in the warren. Soft, chittered whispers in a language barely remembered by the old ones who hadn't been sent to the Experiments yet. New words like "Harvester" and names like Cayden and Milani. Many of the folk avoided such talk, fearful of what it might mean. But somehow, Rix heard the whispers, and whispered back. Plans grew, agreements were made, and suddenly, life and death as a slave didn't seem the only way. The rebellion was not flash and flame like in the romantic stories; Barely a dozen of the folk lifted arms. A dozen was enough to spill the Master's Blood and secret the others away. The warren scattered to the winds, each ratfolk fleeing for their lives under the cover of darkness, seeking a new life, free of the fear and drudgery and torment. And now the masters - the former masters - had a name. The Technic League.<br/><br/>Rix settled in Torch roughly two years ago; it has little influence from the Technic League, and she wasn't comfortable with leaving the lands of Numeria for the strange ad alien landscapes of trees and clear water she had heard about. She lives as a scrapper, helping Junkmaster Burrwaddle sort through the heaps of refuse and odd bits in the town's junkyard. But now the flame has gone out, and Rix knows that the Technic League is making its move on the town. She won't be a slave again, and neither will the people she has come to know.<br/><br/>D20 roll: Result: 17 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=98524)<br/>D100: Result: 67 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=98525)