Independent Orin Vosch

[Tic]

Orin Vosch

AGE
► 31
SPECIES
► Human
HEIGHT
► 6'0
WEIGHT
► 195 lbs
EYE COLOR
► Dark Brown
HAIR COLOR
► Black
HOMEWORLD
► Montitia
GENDER
► Male
FACTION
► Independent
RANK
► Dissident
FORCE SENSITIVITY
► No

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Biography

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Born into the profound poverty of Montitia’s lower class, Orin Vosch had an innate sense of his place in things. The threadbare lives of his parents appeared to him a matter of choice rather than fate. Limit the scope of one’s aspirations to simple survival and simple survival is the sum of what you’re entitled to. But Vosch’s scope reached much further.

The strength of his back would provide an avenue of escape, lending his talent for on-demand violence to first the local dreg-gangs, then the municipal enforcers and ultimately to his regional Dust Baron. It was here, in Baron Ferrav’s SaltBarrow Regiment, that Lieutenant Orin Vosch found his calling at the head of a platoon of swoop cavalry. The howl of the repulsors in melody with the battlecry of his troops sent a jingoistic thrum coursing through his veins. He found himself intoxicated by the call of battle, able to sweep aside fear and scruples with ease.

But the scope of the Dust Barons was limited to their own heedless grasp on power. In their service he would see no greater glories, no grand campaigns. He would be destined to live out his life on Montitia, gunning down bandits and cleaving in the skulls of scavengers. A fellow cavalry officer took note of his dissatisfaction. He befriended the sullen Orin and over the course of time introduced him to a great many concepts. Security, order, purity. He spoke of bygone eras and glories the likes of which the young cavalryman could only dream. When the haughty lieutenant had earned the man’s trust, he revealed the truth about the Hand of the Emperor and so began a series of cautionary introductions to the greater conspiracy.

On the Day of Doors, Lieutenant Vosch, platoon behind him, watched from the base of the palace steps as the conspirators were dragged from their hovels. He listened as they cried in pain and were silenced. When it was done, he took to the desert where he numbly buried his swoopbike in the silt-like sands of the dune sea. The murder of the Hand was the murder of vision, of potential. For Vosch, it was the murder of his past. Better to hitch one’s fate to the unknown than to live a life half realized. From that day onward, Vosch pledged his fealty to the Hand.

Personality

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In conflict or battle, Orin Vosch finds the best measure of himself. Danger allows him a sense of assurance derived from his own sense of utility. In the thick of things he is clear headed, pragmatic, and decisive. It is only when allowed to sit when his thoughts and desires that his less admirable qualities manifest themselves. He can appear impatient, haughty and judgmental.

Equipment

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+ Skyblade-330 Swoop Bike
+ BR8-A1 Blaster Rifle
+ Light Cavalry Armor

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