WatcherX/HellTanner
Name: Hell Tanner
Age: 34 Caste: Dawn Motivation: Break every DB in the world over his knee Intimacy: His Bad-ass Rep Anima: Tusked Boar Concept: Bad-ass Brawlin' Rebel Virtue Flaw: (Deliberate Cruelty)
Attributes: Strength [XXXXX] Charisma [XX...] Perception [XXX..] Dexterity [Xxxx.] Manipulation [XXXX.] Intelligence [X....] Stamina [XXXXX] Appearance [X....] Wits [XXXXX]
Dawn Zenith Twilight Archery [.....] -Integrity [XXX..] Craft [.....] M.Arts [XXXxx] Performance [.....] Investigation [.....] Melee [XX...] -Presence [XXX..] Lore [X....] Thrown [XXXxx] -Resistance [XXXxx] Medicine [.....] War [.....] Survival [.....] Occult [.....]
Night Eclipse -Athletics[XXXxx] Bureaucracy [.....] Awareness [XXX..] Linguistics [.....] -Dodge [XXXx.] Ride [.....] Larceny [X....] Sail [.....] Stealth [.....] Socialize [.....] -:Favored
Specialities: Brawl - Fist-fighting [xx.] Thrown - Improvised weapons [xx.] Presence - Intimidation [xx.}
Virtues and Essence : Compassion [X....] Temperance [X....] Valor [XXXx.] Conviction [XXXX.]
Willpower [XXXXXXXX..] Limit [..........] Essence [XX...] Personal: 14/14 Peripheral: 16/32 (16 commited)
Backgrounds: Manse [XXXx.] Influence [X....] Artifact [XXXxx]
Merits:
Pain Tolerance (5 pt) Ignore 2 dice of wound penalties, but increase diff. of touch-based awareness by 2
Flaws:
Disfigured (3 pt) A multitude of scars Known Anathema (3pt) Wanted (4 pt)
Charms: (Martial Arts) (2e 244) Fists of Iron Technique (1m, sup, +1 acc, +2 dmg, lethal) Sledgehammer Fist Punch (3m, sup, double raw (pre-soak) dmg vs. inanimate objects) Solar Hero Form (6m, sim, scene, count sux twice for determining dmg (1m/use); block range and lethal) Heaven Thunder Hammer (3m, sup, throw enemy back 1 yd/point of pre-soak dmg. 1 die dmg/yd would have travelled,
if strikes something)
Hammer on Iron Technique (3m, 1w, ex a, makes Ess + 1 attacks; ignore rate and mult act pen., DV pen = highest
for one attack. Must make all vs same target)
Sudden Tempest Toss (3m, ref, ctratt, dex+MA for counter, but instead of dmg, add sux to str; target thrown
this many yards in any direction chosen; can do damage like HTH) (Hell = 12) ( http://exalted.xi.co.nz/wiki/?SolarBrawl/Scrollreader )
(Resistance) (2e 209) Ox Body Technique x3 (-1, -2, -2) Durability of Oak Meditation (3m, ref, sets hardness to 8) Iron Skin Concentration (2m, ref, roll sta+res vs.attacker's Ess. Win negates dmg; loss gives +4A/+8L/+8B) Body-Mending Meditation
Combo: The Meat Pounder (15m 2w, +2mWatcherX/ISC)
Fists of Iron + Heaven Thunder Hammer + Hammer on Iron + Iron Skin Concentration
Health Levels
-0 [..] -1 [.....] -2 [........] -4 [.] Incap
Quickref:
Dodge DV: 6 Parry DV: 8 (w/fists) Hardness: 6/6 Soak: 9/15 (2/5 w/out armor) (-1 to enemy sux w/dmg)
Smashfist Pool: 12 +14B (rate-3); spd 5 w/clinch: 12 +13B (rate-2); spd 6 Fighting Chain: 8 +13B (rate-2); spd 5 w/clinch: 8 +11B (rate-1); spd 6 Improvised wpn: 6 +(? +7) (rate-2)
Meat Pounder: (13 +16L + thrown 1 yd/pre-soak dmg) x3 (Dv -1); spd 5
Mighty Visage: +2 DV vs. affected. Mortals make valor check, fail = run. (10m or 11-15 peri spent)
Affected = essence 2 or less.
Equipment:
Reinforced Buff Jacket - 7/10 sk, 6/6 hard, -1 mob., 0 fatigue, 6 commit, 2 art (starmetal- -1 to enemy sux) Smashfist - 5 spd, +1 acc, +7B, +3 def, 3 rate, 6 commit, 1 art (orihalcum- +1 to rate, acc, & def) w/clinch- 6 spd, +6B, 2 rate Fighting Chain - 5 spd, -1 acc, +6B, +2 def, 2 rate w/clinch- 6 spd, +4B Hearthstone Bracers - +2 dmg, +3 dodge, 4 commit, 2 art (orihalcum) Gem of Adamant Skin - lethal damage is automatically converted to bashing before soak.
Appearance:
Hell Tanner is a 7'1" tall, 400 lb. beast of a man, all muscle and bulk. His hair is black, wringy and unkempt,
and his mustache trails around his jaw, down to his short beard. Several scars from cuts and slashes line his
face, leaving his tanned brown skin with several deep, jagged lines of brown and red. A small bit of bone is
visibly jutting from the bottom of his chin, where it had once been fractured, and never quite healed properly.
His left ear is pierced by several metal rings. Evidence of jagged cuts and puncture stabs can be found over his
barrel-like torso in the form of more scars, as well as several along his arms, including burn marks. On his bare
back can be found traces of innumerable whippings.
Tanner wears black pants, belted at the waist with a chain of iron links. The chain has extra length to it
though, and so is also looped several times in a ring at the left side of his waist. His boots are made of
leather, iron-rimmed, and steel-toed. He wears a stylized, reinforced buff jacket, dark brown and hanging down to
his knees, the sleeves torn and frayed away at the shoulders, and the front opened up, showing his bare chest.
Over his forearms are finely crafted orihalcum bracers. When not over his fists, a pair of orihalcum, fingerless
gloves lie just inside his jacket, tied to his chain belt.
When his anima flares, the sight of a massive boar comes forth, hooves stomping, teeth and tusks gnashing, the
sight of filth and blood strewn about, the aura of its rage and strength almost palpible.
History:
Tanner's earliest memories are of being trained for physical labor at the age of about five, along with the
other new slaves in the stables. Back then, they called him Tan Hog, and though he knew he had been taken from
his parents and his homeland, he could not remember which land that was, or what his parents looked like. It
would matter little though, for there was no time for reflection with all the work he would do.
The extent of Tan's education, other than learning how to lift, pull, and push, was the basic laws of the Realm,
the basic teachings of the Immaculate Order, and how to read well enough to read signs and labels for crates.
Along with this education, came all of what he would know about the anathema, the boogeymen of the old ages.
Spent most of his life up to his early twenties laboring, but found his servitude frustrating, to the point that
he would often sneak out at night and drink himself to a stupor in bars, or taking out his aggression on his
fellow drunken brawlers. This occurred for many years, and for many years Tan received many wounds, some of which
where whippings, from when he was caught sneaking out. And as often happens with those that endure constant
hardships, his body learned to cope with the constant heavy labor. It learned to cope with the drinking, with the
fighting, with the pain. Tan Hog grew to be abnormally large and strong, which made him a slave worth keeping for
the extra loads he could lift, worth even overlooking his tendencies to turn to vice.
One day, while laboring with the other slaves, two young dragon-blooded officers approached. One's skin was a
ruddy red, his body shaking with agitation over some slight he must have recently suffered. He stripped off his
armor and weaponry, and began to beat the slaves with his bare fists, and though it was evident he had no
hand-to-hand fighting experience, his lineage and exalted power more than made up for it. Meanwhile, the other
officer began lightly apologizing to the master, and gave him enough money to replace the slaves five times over,
and asking to let his partner's violence pass. Faced with the amount of money he was given, and the desire to
gain enmity from any dragonbloods, the master accepted, and turned away, leaving the slaves to be beaten, and in
some cases, killed.
Tan Hog decided, at about this point, that he'd had about enough.
Instead of waiting for the DB to come to him, Hog hefted up a crate of foreign cheeses and launched it. The DB,
intent on turning one poor man's chest into a crater, didn't notice it until it clipped the top of his head,
knocking him on his back. For a stunned second, there was total silence. Then the DB rose to his feet and stomped
toward Hog. He was two feet shorter, and looked to weigh 200 pounds less. His build was slim, and he'd already
shown that he knew next to nothing about fighting bare-handed.
Everyone's odds were on the Dragon.
Hog used every scrap of brawling experience, every dirty trick, every push of his muscles he could in the
resulting fight. He threw sand in the dragon's eyes. He smashed wine bottles and cut at the dragon with them. He
kicked at the dragon's shins. He headbutted the dragon right in the nose. He slugged away at the dragon's
ribcage, and landed blow after blow on the dragon's face.
It wasn't enough. With only two lucky blows, the dragon was able to crack one of Hog's ribs and fracture his
lower jaw. Hog retaliated by spitting blood at the dragon's eyes, then lifting up the smaller officer in a great
bear hug, clear off the ground, aggravating his broken rib even as his squeezed tighter. The red-skinned dragon
roared in anger, as his skin began to literally burn Hog's at the touch. Tan Hog's skin was blistering and
bubbling, the pain intense. Hog held on, grit his teeth, and squeezed as tight as he could, then continually
head-butted the officer. Blood got in his eyes, though whose blood he was never quite sure of, as he continued
this.
Eventually, the dragon's body went limp, and Hog unceremoniously dropped him to the ground. Before he could even
consider what to do next, though, he felt a sharp bite in the back of his neck, and suddenly he fell unconcious.
The dragon's partner had decided to finish things with a deft cut to the spine.
The hot-headed dragonblood spent the next day in bed, and got a stern talking-to about inappropriate behavior.
He was back to his top physical condition and ready for duty the next day.
Tan Hog spent the next month receiving in a healing facility, receiving only substandard care, since the cost
for full medical attention seemed a bit much for a slave. When the month was over, Hog was able to walk, albeit
slowly, and his chest kept giving him pain. The pain was dull though, as well as all other touch sensations.
When Hog was released from the healing facility, he was informed that he was responsible for quite a bit of
property damage during his irresponsible fight, and that he was also to be punished and fined for daring to start
a fight with a dragonblooded officer, who had only been lawfully inspecting the trade goods. As a slave, this
made Hog's master the one who would have to pay for all this. To recoup his "losses," despite the sizable amount
he had been originally given, the master sold Hog to a slaver ship, that would be travelling to foreign lands.
Hog's injuries gave him little opportunity to resist this move.
The voyage was not to be a peaceful one, for the very same firey dragonblood that Hog had fought with was
stationed on this ship. The dragonblood had pulled some strings to get himself stationed as an imperial
represenative aboard the ship, and it seemed that he had revenge on his mind. The dragonblood bided his time for
weeks, waiting for when he could get the behemoth slave alone, to draw out his revenge slowly and painfully.
When the ship arrived at the coast of the Eastern lands, the people could a blazing golden light coming from the
battered and burning ship. The mast had be smashed, and looked as if it had been swung around a few times. Fires
were spreading even then. Entire sections of the upper hull and side of the ship had been knocked open. It soon
became apparent that no one was steering the ship, when it ran aground of the shore, scraping and smashing
against the rock and beach.
As people approached the beached ship, a large, blinding ball of golden light leaped from the deck, clear over
the crowds of people, and hit the sand running, disappearing into the countryside. The people didn't follow the
light, and when they checked aboard, they found all the crew, all the slaves, and all the passengers dead, though
there were no signs of any dragonblooded officers.
All his life, Tan Hog had seen and understood that true freedom was only for those strong enough to impose their
will on others. His master had power over Hog by his money, but the imperial dragons had power over him and his
kind through sheer strength. It was the reason they had control over the Blessed Isle, the reason they could
demand tithes from most of the foreign lands.
Tan Hog didn't know how or why he had felt that strengthening golden light aboard that ship, in the middle of
his being tortured. Tan Hog didn't care. He knew what he was: an anathema. The only thing that truly scared the
all-powerful dragon-blooded. The only thing Hog knew of that was /stronger/ than the dragon-blooded.
Now, he had his freedom, and the power to keep it, by forcing his will on those that would try to keep him
bound. If being reviled and hated was the price he would have to pay for such freedom, Hog would revel in it, and
play the role as best he was able. His first decision was to decide on his own name, since Tan Hog had been what
his master called him. 'Hell' had a nice ring to it.
Calling himself Hell Tanner, the forsaken anathema stomped his way through the countryside, reveling in his
newfound freedom. Hell followed his every impulse and desire, taking what he wanted and crushing anyone that
tried to stop him. Eventually, armed forces banded together to try and stop him. Hell loved the challenge, and
usually managed to learn something more of his newfound power whenever he broke his foes.
Years went by like this. In the midst of his robbing, murdering, and raping, Hell Tanner managed to scrounge up
several artifacts. Some he found, some he took off the bodies of dead dragonbloods, which he took particular
pleasure in fighting. At one point, he even managed to force his way into a powerful manse, and after some time,
managed to instinctively attune himself to it.
By this time, Hell is 34 years old. He's amassed great power, and large infamy in the area he's stayed in. Now,
Hell Tanner is moving on to new lands to see, new cities to stomp through, new bars to drink in, and new fights
to win. Tanner spends every day of his life daring someone to end him, confident that even if he dies, he will
never kneel, or let himself be bound again. Better to break than bend. And if he can take out more dragonbloods
in the meantime, all the better.
