Danveris

Character Name: Danveris

Nickname(s): Dan, the Son of Claw.

Race: Human

Sex: Male

Age: Eighteen

Birthplace: Danveris was born in the wasteland north of Richmond, among the blasted and petrified trees where the Pa Kuas had made one of their tribal grounds since days of old. However, he only been there for short periods of his life, having moved south and west in a large circle for the tribe's path for the entirety of his life.



Height: Danveris is the tallest tribesmen in Pa Kua, standing at a towering height of 6''7'. While growing up, he had used his height to his advantage “encouraging” his brothers to take him under their wing to learn their ways.

Weight: During his youth, Danveris was thin and scrawny, only having, like the rest of the tribe, what they managed to scrounge up to eat. However as the years past and his training continued his days out in the field and consistently working added muscle to his frame until he ended at an impressive 210, especially for such a tribe where nutrients are hard to come by. It, combined with his height, adds to a rather intimidating sight.

Eye Color: His eyes, like his hair, is cobalt, which, along with being a Third Son, plays into his nickname of the “Son of Claw”.

Hair Color: His hair is pitch black, which helps him helps make up for his height in blending into the night.

Hair Style: His hair is braided into dreadlocks tied behind his head into a ponytail with a scrap of leather from his Hunt. From the band hangs two Raider fingerbones, crossing to make an X. Occassionally before a fight he reaches behind his head and touches them – for good luck.

Facial Hair: The amount of facial hair varies depending on how much leisure time Danveris has. If he's working about at the camp, he should find a short period of rest where he can stop at a nearby stream and shave off any facial hair with a knife. But if he's out on a hunt and must search for water to drink or bathe in, storing what he can before he moves again, the chances are high that he won't be able to shave. So mostly shaven, but occasionally he does have a shadow.

Skin Color: Every member of the tribe are descendants of the Pre-war Americans that went into the LA Vault, and while there has been quite a bit of inbreeding (especially among the Families) they are still primarily Caucasian, though they all have a bit darker tan for nearly two centuries of toiling under the sun.

Build: Danveris is muscular to a fault. After years in his childhood of starving with the rest of the tribe, the moment he learned how to hunt on his own he got in the habit of going out on his own at least three times a day, whenever he felt the crave. Since then, he did not have the same taunt look that some of the older tribesmen had, but rather the combination of eating and traversing across the wastelands keep him fit. He went out on his hunts partly to sustain himself, in part to worship Bark in truly embracing the Earth, but more than anything it was to just get away from a tribe where he was not wanted.


Distinguishing Features: When he goes out on hunts or with raiding parties to nearby foes, his most distinguishable feature by far is the warpaint – three separate lines of black, red and white. Another example is of a faded bullet mark on his left side. There are times when he rubs it, whenever he feels particular ire towards his tribe and must force himself to bottle it away.



Profession: Danveris is unique in his tribe in the fact that he is a Third Son. Unlike the First Son, who is expected to be a warrior and so only is trained in that field, or the Second who is only to be a hunter, and the daughters who learn the ways of Bark and the secrets he has hid in the Earth, he, alone, had no set place. And so, he learned it all. He joined his eldest brother during their raids, his Second during the hunts, and he helped the womenfolk with their cleaning, cooking and leatherwork. The last of which he found a particular aptitude, developing the first instance of footwear for the tribe. From that moment on his “official” profession has been that of a clothes-worker, a tailor.

Skills: Craftmanship, Hand to Hand, and Survival.

Attributes:
Strength: 8
Perception: 7
Endurance: 8
Charisma: 4
Intelligence: 6 (Will adjust once he becomes educated)
Agility: 9
Luck: 5

Training: Martial Arts, Acrobatics, Archery and Edged Weapons.

Other Abilities: Yoga, Tai Chi, Hunting, Cooking, Cleaning (both campsite and game), Leatherworking, Carving, Metalworking (Heating a piece of metal over a open fire and then hammering it into shape), and Survival/Area Knowledge.

Apparel: Danveris has three different sets of clothing. There is his casual wear, a loose lioncloth with a tougher Gecko skin hide wrapped around his waist, slip on moccasins (of his own designing) and a loose vest around his torso with a added fur lined (dog hide usually) coat for the winter.

For hunting, he wears the same casual outfit, but over it he wears another layer of toughened leather which covers the entirety of his upper body. Along with arm guards, shin guards and boots – laceless. For combat, the armor is much the same, however there is metal imbedded over the leather and a second layer is then sewn over it, so that the metal is sandwiched in between the armor. Lastly, as unique touch of his own, he has carved the symbol for the Third Son onto the chestplate – colorless for the leather armor, but for the reinforced the top line is colored black for the Heavens, the middle separated line red, while the last separated line is a vibrant white. Not very stealthy, but if he is charging a foe with a blade than he isn't trying to hide in the first place.

Weaponry: Danveris has three weapons on him at all time. His bow, with a full quiver of arrows on back, along with his sword and knife on his left hip. All weapons and armor were handcrafted by himself.

Other Equipment: He also carries on him a brahmin-stomach water flask, with an extra layer of leather sewn on the outside so it would not be so easily punctured. As well as a pouch which carries his ration for raids or hunts and also whatever herbs or plants he manages to gather along the trip, some of which are poison, to be applied either his bow or knife. Along with a third pouch which stores what he gathers up in the wastes, which includes some foodstuffs like Blamo Mac N Cheese, Cram, InstaMash, Junk Food, Pork n' Beans, and, most importantly, four bottles of Nuka Cola Quartz. And lastly, a welder mask, which he keeps partly as a trophy and partly because it helps keep the flames out of his eyes during his metalwork (Danveris has no idea that he is using the apparel as it was originally intended)



Affiliation: The Pa Kua tribe.

Religious Belief: Danveris believes strongly in the Three. It is the only explanation for the world he had ever heard, the tribe's way of life being the only one he had ever come across. The few instances he had met others were the very moments before they died. But they were raiders, who seemed like the very abominations that came out of the Nothingness or wanderers who happened upon their lands, in which case those were few and far between that he couldn't get a real sense of them. But even on the hunts or raids he was still enacting the will of the gods.

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual.

Relationship Status: No one in the tribe is allowed to form relationships of any kind before the Rite. Of which, afterward, the head of the household finds a mate for them in the next week or so and then the new adults leave to live together, forming their own unit of four. It was one of the many reasons why he had been anxious to have his Rite, and one of the reasons he felt all the more betrayed when he understood just what the Rite of the Crossing meant.

Personality: Danveris is a odd sort. The tribe, for many years, has had a strictly patriarchal society. The men have their place in life, to hunt and to fight, while the women have theirs. Despite the fact that their faith tells them that all opposites, Life and Death, Darkness and Light, are just part of the same whole, there was still an instinctual need to separate the Men from the Women. Danveris, being fervently religious, never saw the need for that. While he sought to train all the skills the tribe could offer, he also enjoyed the company of men and women. During meals, where the womenfolk had prepared the kills and helped serve the food to all the tribe, he would often sit by the hunters, warriors and a few female friends and eat, drink, laugh and boast of all of his accomplishments – bellowing out throughout the whole campsite.

However, at the same time, should any adult, let alone those with power like the Masters, glare at him, he would become as meek as a abused pup. He felt a odd combination of reverence and disdain for the leaders of the tribe, along with his elder brother, the First Son and his friend who were sure to become Grand Master and Masters in their own right.

And so his personality shifted between those two extremes – gregarious, prideful, and comfortable with his close friends, be they of any genders and closed off, respectful and secretly scornful of those who were not. While he enjoys speaking with his friends into the late hours of the night, where the moon rose and the campfire flickered, there were times when he could not stand being around the Masters and the future Masters, felt smothered by the tribe, and had to leave. He felt most at peace not with his friends in the tribe but out there, in the harsh wastelands, where any step could be fatal but every moment the world was in tune with him, Earth called out to him, and he had no need to put on any facade before it.

His ability to hunt, his skill in a fight, were all that kept Danveris sane.



Danveris was born the son of a god.

But unlike his eldest brother, Elija, who was expected to take his father's reign and was worshiped wherever he stepped, or Tamil, the Second Son, who was seen as equally earning of honor. His father's wife, Delila, never intended to get pregnant for a third time. No one in the tribe does. So when he opened his eyes as a baby and revealed their hue with a few black locks soaked to his brow. Already some tribesmen whispered that he was not the Son of Adam, but the Son of Claw.

The Grand Master was enraged to hear of this talk, and from that moment the name was forbidden among the people. However, he, too, treated Danveris as if he was not his son. He ignored Danveris as much as he could in their cramped campgrounds, and quickly the other Masters and Instructors took heed. Even Elija, who had helped nurse him soon followed suit. Granted, Danveris was too young at the time to remember the First Son ever doing such a thing, since, from that moment on, Elija had no more to do with him – at least until that fateful day of Elija's Rite.

So, instead his raising was left to his mother, Delila, and the rest of the womenfolk. His earliest memories are of them, sitting in a group, cross-legged, with the rest of the daughters of the tribe, while his older brothers and the rest of the boys his age stood in lines before their separate Instructors, three per row, and began to learn. To be taught. To spar. While they were taught to swordmanship with bokkens, he was taught how to cut open boatflies, brahmin, molerats, and the ocassional mirelurk that the hunters brought back with them. While they were taught how to throw straight punches, how to close a fist with the fingers curled outside, he was taught how to skin a hide off a kill and how to stretch it out and work it into clothes.

Eventually, he worked up his courage and spoke to Delila about it. He had been quiet mostly before then, wincing whenever anyone looked his way. But his mother had been watching him. Had watched how, despite everyone thinking, in their hearts of hearts, that he was “the Son of Claw”, Danveris continued to work his hardest. And so he came up and stumbled over his words, she was still touched by his sincerity. From that day on, Danveris held a special place in her heart.

Later that day, she approached Tamil, the Second Son, and implored him to teach Danveris as well. However, already at this point Tamil and Elija were forming a rivalry. And if Elija was not going to speak with the Third Son, he would not either. But Delila worked that rivalry in her favor. If Elija would not speak with Danveris he will never earn the boy's loyalty – this was a chance for Tamil to earn over Danveris' trust completely.

The next day, Tamil took Danveris out into the wastelands.

The two of them were alone since Tamil did not want to be seen by anyone. The boy worked off the best of his memory to begin as lessons always did when learning under the Instructors. Tamil started by forming a “mat” (why the ring they practice in was called that, no one in the tribe fully knew) drawing a square on the ground with his bokken that he brought with him. Then, the two began running.

Tamil thought that this for sure would tire the boy out, having not run around for nearly an hour like the boys did prior to the start of training. But, for the first time, Tamil was surprised by him. Not only did Danveris keep pace, but he even overtook Tamil a couple of times. That turned into a race of sorts, before Tamil realized what they were there for and slowed them down. Then the two lined up, greeting each other with closed fist and open palm, before moving onto the 24 Movements.

They had no way of knowing that their running had disturbed a nest beneath them.

Before they could fully begin, the first of the Giant Ants crawled up from the ground. Tamil screamed, dropping the bokken in his hand. The boy dropped, cowering, expecting to feel the Ant's mandibles around his throat. When nothing happened, he glanced up, only to see Danveris standing with the bokken in hand, holding the Ant back. With a single swing, hitting the antenna, he left the Ant stunned and grabbed Tamil's hand. The two ran as the lone ant turned on it's kindred that came crawling out of the nest. It was not long before it was outmatched and then the two were being chased.

The two had just barely made it into the camp before the ants came onto them. The warriors, who alone were there since the hunters were out doing their trade, quickly grabbed their bows, shooting at the Ants from afar. When it looked like they would make it inside the camp, they took up blade and charged.

The womenfolk took the two boys in, holding onto them. But while Tamil shook to see the blood, guts and gore before him, Danveris looked on with awe. He felt a surge run through him, and all of a sudden he wanted to take up Tamil's fallen bokken and rush in there as well. His older brother seemed to sense it, and was looking at him. It was not the same look that he used to get from the other menfolk, it was deep-felt respect.

That evening during their meal the boys in Tamil's class begged for details. For once, the boy was silent. Before he turned around to look at where Danveris was eating with some other girls his age and asked him to come and tell of the fight. The other boys were stunned at this and even more so when not only Danveris came over but the girls as well, sitting with them all with their meal spread out before them on top of a woven quilt.

That would be their seating arrangement for the next thirteen years.

Later that night when Grand Master Adam asked his son why he not only let girls come and eat with him but Danveris as well, the boy replied with that he thought Danveris should be taught how to hunt and fight. After a moment of surprise, their father asked him to explain. Tamil told him of how it was not he but Danveris that held off the Ant during their fray and how when they came into the camp how Danveris seemed eager to join the warriors as well. After he confirmed this with Danveris, he stated that the boy should make himself useful before his Rite and placed him in both Tamil's and Elija's classes.

Elated, he hugged Tamil – thanking him. He saw in his mind eye days of grandeur where he fought valiantly against all the tribe's foes. However, his excitement still didn't cover over his curiosity. As the two were getting ready for bed, Danveris asked Tamil about the Rite, since he never heard from the womenfolk anything about it. Tamil mentioned that the women didn't have to do the Rite, it was solely something that men had to do when they reached their eighteenth year. The First Son would have to go out and fight a group that was harassing or could harass the tribe, while the Second Son had to go out on a Hunt finding the most dangerous game he could – both would need to bring back a trophy.

Excitedly, he asked what his Rite was. He didn't notice Tamil's paling face. However, Elija snorted and mockingly said that his Rite was the greatest of them all. He had to go on a epic journey, face many trials, and reach the Great Crater. Everyone knew what that was. Suddenly, Danveris' face lit up, unaware that Tamil glared at his older brother. That night Danveris had good dreams.

The next morning he felt like he was made anew. One of the fabled Rebirths that the tribe so honored. He had a dream now. A mission. And his new days of training would hone him, ready him. While the knowledge he had already would allow him to eat on his own, like no one on the tribe would know how to do, since all the hunters brought in their kills for the womenfolk to prepare. He eagerly jumped in – learning all that he could from the tribe.

And so time went on, day after day, year after year. Danveris grew tall and strong. Soon, he found himself the best within his class. Something that drew the ire from the students under the other Instructors, but instead those within his own class, his friends and Tamil, only grew closer to him. Still, part of him wished for more, for the acknowledgment of not only his friends but of his older brother, the rest of the Instructors and Masters, and, most importantly, the Grand Master, his father, their living god.

And that wish was granted.

When he was fifteen Elija's Rite was quickly approaching. At that point, Danveris had seen a couple Rites so he knew what to expect. Elija would choose his closest friends to join him on their raid and then they would return some days after, perhaps missing a couple, perhaps injured some, but more or less elated. His only concern was with the women folk – with gathering the loot, taking apart the armor taken from the Raiders and taking apart their guns, melting them down and reshaping them into blades.

He was leaving with a few of his female friends when Elija approached him.

His brother told Danveris that he had been watching the boy, and that his skills could not be disputed, especially at his age. Danveris was elated. He was not expecting to go on a Rite. Maybe not until one of his friends gave him that honor. More than that, Elija accepted him. Saw his talent. Danveris happily accepted.

When Tamil found out, he was furious. He went over to Elija and demanded to know why he did not pick him, who had actually been on a few Rites and has killed before. Tamil said that Elija was only using Danveris out of the rivalry the two of them had, and would get the boy hurt. If Tamil had hoped that this would rile up Elija, he got the wrong person. Danveris exploded. For once, though he was two years younger, he used his height to his advantage against his brother, demanding to know if Tamil doubted Danveris' strength. While Tamil tried to explain Danveris stormed off, not knowing of Elija's smirk behind him.

Danveris spent the next night modifying his armor, which he had made already for the few trips he goes with Tamil out hunting. Adding some armor on his own, having seen the womenfolk do it already. But, more than that, he was already becoming a knack for leatherworking. And as he was putting on the armor, he stared at the bare feet and an idea came to him. Excited, he decided to make some for Elija as a present for his successful Rite.

The target they had in mind was a stone building a good distance away. The whole party took at least a week on foot to get there. While they already had enough rations prepared from the tribe, Danveris went out of the way to prove his worth by hunting some nearby Molerats, skinning, gutting and then cooking it all for them. But instead of gratitude, they just took the meal, continuing to talk amongst themselves. A bit thrown off guard, Danveris decided he'll still show them his worth during the fray.

When they actually reached the building itself, Danveris was thrown off guard once more. He had of course heard of the Old World, it being corrupted by the Nothingness to the point where it was ready to destroy itself, to the point where the Three had to intervene. But still it was the first time he had seen such a large ruin of the past before his own eyes. Though he did not know it, it was a old factory building, and the party stepped over around the dead cars in the loading dock as they approached. Danveris stared at the corpses hung on hooks above the steel gate before following the warriors to either side.

After greasing up the chain, the group worked to quietly raise up the gate, which revealed a large cargo space – filled to the brim with old metallic crates. On top of them were wooden platforms, connecting up to a platform high above. On it was a office, under the roof of that office was a single turret moving left to right – scanning.

Just like that, the warriors pushed themselves back against the wall. “What do we do now?” Elija's best friend, Nikali, asked. “How do we stop the monster that spits metal?” Everyone knew what it was, though they had never seen it. One of the aberrations that the Old World people had created. The Masters had warned them that in some old buildings like this they still operated.

While they bickered to themselves on what to do, Danveris asked a single question, “Why don't we become them?”

The group looked at each other for a moment, before turning back and arguing. But when Elija asked him to explain they fell silent.

“Well.” Danveris began. “Those things do not have the same mind as us, right? They just, uh, scan,” He was glad he remembered the word. “Our foes and make sure they look the same. If we catch a scout nearby, kill him, and dress up in his garb one of us could walk in past the metal monster and the monsters in flesh and reach that place,” He said, pointing to the office above, “And shut it down.”

“Ah!” Said Revia, who was on the fringe of the group, “The comsuitor! I heard that it controls it! If you kill it, you kill the demon!” However, his excitement died down when Elija glared at him.

“Sure,” Elija said slowly. “I think there was a sentry out to the west. A warrior, like us. Why don't you take the glory by slaying him and entering in? You are tall enough for the part, and none doubt your skills.”

“Truly?”

Elija smiled. And for the first time, Danveris thought the boy, the man now, looked kind. “Truly.”

With a grin, Danveris bolted up. Running. He never heard the laughter.

They were right. There was a lone raider patrolling to the west. More importantly, Danveris struck gold with him. Not only did he have the garb that all their foes wore, but he also had a metal bowl which hides his face – perfect for what Danveris has in mind. And, most importantly, he did not have one of those monsters that spit metal, which would have made him far more dangerous. Instead, he wielded a weapon like theirs. A warrior. It was a long brown staff with a black tip and base, which the enemy held. It would make good kindling for the bonfire they'll have tonight for celebration.

The fist thing that Danveris did was draw out his bow. He began to pick out a arrow from his quiver when he stopped. He had brought some boatfly venom that the women were using for the black dye the warriors wore tonight. He thought taking some before it was processed would aid him. While not as deadly as radscorpion venom, it would still weaken the man and depending on where Danveris hit could be deadly. Dipping the arrow in some poison, Danveris drew his bow back and fired.

And missed.

“Damn.” Danveris muttered under his breath as the raider looked desperately around. He hurriedly drew another arrow and dipped it in some poison. The raider spotted him. Danveris stood up from where he crouched hidden, and pulled the string back. The raider charged at him. The world froze around him. Danveris shot.

And the arrow struck in the bare flesh of the raider's arm.

I was aiming for his chest But when the raider slowed down, dropping his weapon and clutching his arm with the other hand Danveris merely smiled. This will do.

He was smiling when the Raider looked up and saw Danveris swing his blade down.

A second later, Danveris was kicking the body off his blade then stabbed it down into the dirt, coming up with it cleaner, though with clumps of bloody dirt clinging to it. He wasted no time changing into the armor and then slamming into on the metal mask. The slight for the sight was slim, but that was what he needed if he wanted to hide himself. Out of habit Danveris reached for his blade but then stopped – going instead for the foe's weapon. When he was done, he cut off a finger of his first kill and then left behind his clothes. It would be safer here, out in the wasteland, where he could always come and get it back.

He spotted the warriors still by the stone structure, talking heated with themselves, when he came up. Danveris barely had time to hail them before several jumped to their feet and began to draw their bows. He dropped to the ground and pulled off his helmet as arrows flew by overhead. Seconds later he jumped back to his feet, waving, “It's me.” The arrows stopped.

Moments later he came down, helmet under his shoulder. “I take it the disguise works well.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Elija nodded. Danveris felt some stares heavy against his back. He felt proud.

“So I take it that it's time I go in?” Danveris was eager to keep proving himself to them.

Some of them began to protest, but Elija stepped in. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Danveris smiled and dropped the mask back on.

There was still some hesitation, so he decided to start pulling up the chain.

The warriors leaned around the corner and watched him as he walked forward.

The thing above stopped in it's motion, scanned him, beeped, and continued on.

“It's working.” One of them muttered, and Danveris smirked.

He began to walk up the planks, heading higher. He passed one of the foes and tensed up. But he saw that the raider was putting something into the flesh of his arm and pulling. Whatever it was, it was dulling the senses if the dimness of his eyes were anything to go by. The enemy merely nodded a hello as Danveris walked on.

Within no time Danveris was up on the top of the platform. After looking deeper into the corridor he could hear voices but no one nearby. He slipped through a opening, noticing the metal slab that stood against the wall. Perhaps this what the Old World people used to enter into new places? But more importantly, right next to it, was the comsuitor.

It had a smooth front surface. Danveris had seen many shards of it littering the ground at a ruin that was one of their camping grounds. Glass he was pretty sure it was called. Underneath it were metal squares with some strange symbols on it. What the hell did I get myself into? After a moment of looking at it, then looking at the open gateway that he knew the warriors were hiding, Danveris finally shrugged and then smashed the staff into the glass.

It cracked.

Above, the metal monster whirled into life, looking down into the room and flashing red.

Danveris smashed it another time and then ducked under a desk.

The bullets flew. More and more. The raider on the ledge screamed, pulling out his gun, inside there was more yelling.

By the Three! When the bullets stopped, Danveris jumped up, gathered all his strength and let the staff fly.

The glass shattered. Sparks flew. Up above the metal monster coughed up sparks as well. Before spaszing and then dying suddenly.

Danveris turned around. The raider on the ledge was pointing a gun straight at him.

Before he could blink though, a arrow slammed into the man's shoulder. The raider spun around, only to see the warriors of the Pa Kua tribe charging up towards the planks. Believing them to be the greater threat, he began firing at them. The first one barely missed Elija as he lead the pack heading up. The second missed wildly, hitting the ceiling. But the third hit Revia trailing in the back in the head. Danveris watched stunned as Revia's head blew backwards, his limp form falling to the ground.

Elija reached the top and stared the shooter in the eye. All Danveris could think of was that head, and the way it disappeared in a red mist. Before he knew it Danveris was leaping out the gap in the window, hitting the raider in the side of the head. The man staggered, which was enough time for Elija to try to stab up through the man's bare chest. The raider dodged to the side, and the blade passed beneath his elbow. Trying again to raise his gun at Elija. Danveris stepped a leg behind the raider's and put his palm on his chest, sweeping the foe off the ledge and to the ground far below.

The two brother's looked each other in the eye.

“Thanks.” Elija finally said and smiled. Danveris realized that was the first time he'd seen a genuine smile on him.

So he beamed as well. “Sure, no prob – ”

Bang.

Danveris glanced down, seeing blood leak out from under his leather armor. He grabbed his side with a hand while glancing behind him. Two Raiders stood in the hallway, one with a gun while the other held a weapon, wooden this time, but larger than the bokken he was used to. They blurred in his vision, and, suddenly, he was falling.

Everything was hazing after that. He was the man with the large metal weapon go down, distracted from the front while Elija slashed open his stomach as he spun, grabbed the man's wrist and threw him below. The second foe tried to swing his staff, but he was unaccustomed to it's weight and another of the warriors came and struck him in the wrist, hitting a pressure point, so that the main dropped his weapon. Then in a flash, two knives sped out and slashed open his neck and he was kicked low in the shin so he would tumble, like the other two, down to the floor.

From that point on, all that Danveris saw was the stampeding of bare feet as the warriors rushed by him deeper into the hallway and the complex at large. He heard ragged shouts, screams, loud kyas which shook the building which later rang with gunshots. Black and white flickered before him as dots spun before his eyes.

But then the Nothing encompassed all.

When he woke up, clear enough from the darkness, he saw his brother standing over him, bloody – but not of his own. Around him stood seven others. Of the warriors four more had died – there must have been a decent amount of foes who had monsters who spat metal. They said something to each other, and though it must have been loud enough all Danveris heard was muted whispers. But he understood when the first of the warriors turned around and left. Followed by another. Then another. Finally, there was only Elija. When he too turned around, Danveris found his voice.

“Wh … why?”

For a moment, Elija stopped. His next words dug deep into Danveris' mind. Forever.

“What is does it matter if it's now or in three years?”

Danveris blacked out after that.

When he came to he was lying in the Bark Tent. Below him, piles of furs, hides, blankets were piled, providing cushion from the ground beneath them. A wet cloth was pressed on his head, and around his side were wrappings – a light cloth that he had never seen or felt before. He leaned up, and then was stunned that he could – gunshots were almost always fatal.

A second later the tent flap zipped open, and a familiar face stepped in with a clay bowl with water inside. Mygen, his long known sister and cooking partner, nearly dropped the bowl, before she stepped back out, happily exclaiming, “He's awake!” A moment later Tamil, Delila, Gertid and Fala who themselves were cooking partners, along with Mart, Eriz and Chusk – his fellow students under Instructor Lamiz. His friends.

They fused over him, which, honestly, he knew they would. Until his mother finally answered the unspoken question that was on his mind. “I'm glad that we used those magical healers on you.”

“The what now?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the oddest device that Danveris had ever seen. It was metal, primarily, but the lower half was shaped like two bars with a point at the end while the top was a circle, with three different colors on it. “We stuck it into your arm and pushed,” She held it in her hand demonstrated, showing how by pushing down on the circle a metal level down below pressed in – the chamber it was going into was empty now, though. “And that hole in you just closed up – like that. I've never seen anything like it. Apparently the Grand Masters' have been hoarding such wonders for many centuries now, collecting them.”

His eyes grew dead. “And the Grand Master agreed to using this magic?”

Delila looked surprised that he asked this, and after a quick look at Tamil, replied, “Yes. Of course he did. He saw the urgency once we told him about it.”

Ah. So you begged.

They all agreed to go and let him rest some. Before he left though, Danveris caught Tamil's attention.

“If this is about my Rite,” Tamil hurriedly said, “I can understand if you didn't want to go after this. I'll give you some time to – ”

“About my Rite. The Crossing.”

Tamil froze. “What about it?”

Why haven't I ever seen this before? It was so obvious. “They want me to die out there, don't they?”

Tamil looked frightened. Not affronted. “Want you to? Why would – ”

“I've never heard about any Third Son ever making it back from the Crossing. And it isn't just Sons, even Third Daughters, who don't take Rites, on their Nameday end up marrying not another of the Family but another within the tribe.”

“But that's just so that the tribe can have some of the blood of the Families!”

“Yeah, that's what they tell the children. It still keeps the numbers low within the Families. Keeps them small. Are they doing it deliberately? Do they want me to die in my Crossing?”

Tamil was silent.

“I want to sleep.” Danveris said. His brother left.

And so did Danveris in the middle of the night.

It was not that he was going to abandon them, just up and leave, though the thought did cross his mind. No, there was still his friends here, his brother and his mother. He couldn't leave them yet. He still had two years. But … but he had to get away. So into the night he crept.

In the following year, he did that many times. And, during it, he became a good hunter. Living out on his own, in the wastes, hunting down the prey he can. It was during this time that he began to work on that design he had in mind, that footwear – cutting and forming it out of the hide he cut and stretched out in the wild. There was a soothing quality to it, being out and alone working as the sun rose and fell.

But always he eventually returned. At first, they were mad at his sudden disappearances. But when he came back with his new invention and they saw how useful such protection could be for the feet in the hot sun, they quickly allowed for him to vanish for weeks out in the wastes to work on his projects. A part of him knew, and understood, that many in the tribe didn't particularly care if he came back.

It was during that time that his friends became his lifeline. Each time he came back, especially that first time, they were worried for him. It was only natural, I suppose, for those who cared about him to see death hanging over his head always. In fact, Danveris had to wonder once again how he always missed it. How, in his eagerness to please, he had been in such denial. He found himself all the more attached to his friends after that, the sole people in the tribe who would care if he died, and in part because of that he agreed to join Tamil on his Rite.

Unlike Elija's, Tamil's Rite went smooth. They went after some Mirelurks that were lurking at a nearby shore. However, the grand prize was the Mirelurk King. Tamil and the other hunter's have been eying this prey for a while, which would normally be far out of their scope. This was not out of any sense of faulty pride, but rather them just taking advantage of the environment.
The shore was entrapped by a giant cliff that surrounded the beach, with only two rough mountain trails that wiggled their way up the cliff-face. Danveris helped the hunters for the later part of the day with rolling some boulders and stone slabs from a nearby ruin down to the cliff to help pile them up on the paths. The work was finally done when night had fully fallen.

At that point, some hunters wanted to stop and wait for the morning. However, Tamil pointed out that there was a cave in the cliff that was probably the Mirelurk's main lair. If they waited until the morning all the Mirelurks, and, more importantly, the King, might very well descend into it, which would make the hunt all that much harder.

Danveris had a solution. While he had been wandering the last week, he had stumbled on a old supermarket, though he had not known that what the building was at the time. While the front was completely looted, there was a backdoor that was locked. Kicking it in or using a wooden bat would be difficult, but with his blade it was easy to cut around the knob. Soon enough he was in the back storage of the complex, and that was where he struck gold.

While there were many foodstuffs that he had never seen before, but that he stored in his pouch anyway, and some more of those wonder healers that he found in a white box with a red cross attached to the wall, what really stood out to him was some crates of a odd white liquid in the back. It looked like this one was for drinking. Slightly thirst, Danveris decided to test it out.

Immediately a blue glow lit up his surroundings and the darkness fell away.

It only took him moments to understand what exactly he found.

He store that bottle and the rest of them in his pouch determined not to drink them.

But he pulled one out out now, and saw all the others light up with equal bit wonder and fear.

He took one sip and then held it out. The other hunters hesitated, until Tamil took it and took a sip.

His face lit up. “By the Three.” Turning to the others, he said, “Try it.”

Needing no other encouragement, the rest took sips as well, until the bottle was empty.

Only four left now. Danveris thought before all of them stared at him.

“The effects wear off. I want to shoot them all before they do.”

That got them up and moving quickly. Tamil smiled, teeth a glow, and slapped him on the back.

There were four Mirelurks down below and eight hunters in total. They had already decided to take them out first, two arrows per each. Tamil, who was taking is Rite, and Danveris, the best shot (he had wanted to make up for his mistake during Elija's Rite, also when he was younger he wanted to make his father proud – since archery is his forte. Now, Danveris just wants to show him up.) took the Mirelurk closest to the cliff trail.
That one went down.

As for the other three Mirelurks, Danveris was glad to see that another went down while a third landed backwards, one arrow hitting it's mark below the Mirelurk's jaw while the other bounced off it's carapace. That left the lone Mirelurk rushing towards the path while the King glanced up. What is it doing? Danveris thought, before it opened it's mouth and a awful sound issued out. Danveris wanted to hold his ears, if his hands weren't already holding his bow. But then his eyes widened as three rings shot out, hitting just below the edge and shaking the rocks loose. Everyone stopped. They had heard legends before that the Kings of the Mirelurks could make the Earth tremble at it's voice, but it's another thing entirely to see it happen.

Tamil shook them out of it. “Continue shooting! The one coming up!”

Eight arrows flew at it. Not all of them landed in the face. But there was enough for it to fall – dead.

By this time the King was rushing to the path on the right. Suddenly, Danveris wasn't sure if their plan would face against it. It could fire at the rocks and move them. Or, more likely, once it was higher up it could hit them.

They had to kill it fast.

Unfortunately, the King didn't have the same weak point as the lesser Mirelurks. All eight shot several times at it, but while it started to bleed, a lot, it did not slow. It finally reached the top. It turned out that Danveris was right on both accounts. It's voice shook both the rocks in it's path and zoomed out towards them. The hunters now had to contend with moving out of the way while still shooting. One of the rocks budged.

Having an idea, Danveris rushed at it. Tamil asked him what the hell he was doing. Through the gap in the rocks, Danveris stabbed through – hitting the King and making him lose his balance. At that moment, Danveris leaned back and kicked the boulder. Both it and the King tumbled down to the ground.

“You're shitting me.” Down below, with it's leg pinned by the boulder, the King continued to thrash. But as Danveris stood there, Tamil ran by. And with a single push he knocked over one boulder. Seeing that, the other hunters came as well, pushing over the rocks until a tidal wave of them crashed down below. The King was hidden beneath them all.

Danveris was about to go down when he saw the last Mirelurk stumble up to it's feet. At once, all the hunters drew their bows. Looking up at the force arranged at it, the Mirelurk waddled through the sand, disappearing into the cave. “Let it go.” Tamil said, before they all went down. Once there, the hunters began carrying the other carcasses up, while Danveris and Tamil worked on clearing the boulders out of the way. Once they did, they found the King – bruised and battered. Danveris stabbed his blade right through it's head – to be sure.

That night the tribe feasted. Eating Mirelurk meat was a rare delicacy to them, and while they ate Tamil paraded his trophy of the King's claws. After all the eating was done, Danveris helped Tamil hang it up in his new tent, erected for the occasion of passing his Rite. Now Danveris was the only one save the Grand Master and Mother living in the Bark Tent.

While helping him with a thought came to him, “You must live, Tamil.”

Tamil stopped. “What are you talking about?”

“What I said. The Mirelurks, those monsters in flesh a year ago, this Earth, though we worship it, is filled with dangers. We've been blessed by the Three to make it this far.”

Now Tamil has stopped and Danveris has stopped. They looked at each other. Before Danveris' eyes softened. “This tribe needs you.”

For the first time Danveris could ever remember, his brother teared up. Definitely for the first time ever Danveris was hugged.

“This tribe needs you as well.” He pulled away, “Your mind … it is strong. Stronger than your body, I think. I heard about what you did during Elija's Rite. And what you just did, making that monster fall, crushing him with the rocks … the tribe can't afford to lose you. I'll make sure Father sees it.”

There's no use.

But Danveris smiled anyway.

Tamil wasn't the only one crying during Danveris' Nameday.

Around him stood Tamil, Mother, Mygen and the girls – all crying. Seeing Tamil crying, Mart, Eriz and Chusk were trying hard to school their expressions. His friends. His world. He hugged them. One by one. As he felt the Grand Master's gaze linger on him on the hill where the Bark Tent was raised. After he was done, he gave them a sad smile, “It's time.”

It was Mygen who broke first, “Don't do it. Don't try to Cross. Just live somewhere. Live, please.”

The sad look deepened, “Even a Third Son is of the Pa Kua tribe. If I get to see the Great Crater, I will be content.”

That struck them mute.

A smile came to Danveris. “I'll be as cautious as I can. Live long.”

With that, he turned around.

And walked away.

.....................................................................................................................

1. I couldn't figure out at all how to add a picture of my character here - at least one that looked exactly like my character and not some random one I found on Google images or something. Any tips?

2. While there was a place to put my skills in the Character Sheet, I didn't see any place to put my Attributes. Are they done separately?

3. Also, it mentions in the Skills and Attributes that you are not supposed to pick more than 3 Tag skills. However, I've read a couple Approved Character Submissions that have 4. If I could, I would like to add Subterfuge - if only to indicate that he's skilled at sneaking and not so much lockpicking or hacking.

Look forward to seeing the replies!

Edit: I decided to do the changes for points 2 and 3 anyway. I feel it more accurately depicts his skills and abilities this way. Feel free to tell me to change it back.