Dazed and confused.
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: Dublin, Ireland
Apologies for the late entry, I hope it's not too late.
Name: Gallan Robickai
Appearance: Gallan is a tall, well built man with a speckling of small burn scars across his cheeks and the back of hands, a legacy of years spent as a welder in the coastal ship yards of Laviax, a port city on the southern continent of Prolial. His brown hair, receding at the front, is shaved tight to his scalp, with a smattering of grey starting to creep in at the temples. He has a tattoo of his Artificers Guild crest on the side of his neck, and clan tattoos covering his arms from wrists to shoulders.
He is a fairly easy going individual, preferring to get along with people than not, but finds it hard to deal with those he perceives as fools. On the whole he is fairly level headed, but has been known to let his temper get the better of him when he feels that others are making stupid decisions that directly affect him. This has got him in trouble more than once, in both his military and civilian life. This strong willed amiability and sensibility, combined with his years of service in the PDF, tends to see him gravitate to an informal leadership role in any new group he becomes part of.
Unlike most of his guild mates, who saw their mandatory PDF rotations as a burden, Gallan volunteered for the PDF as soon as he was old enough, thinking it would help alleviate the boredom he foresaw in his future after watching his father carry on in the same job he hated for his entire adult life. He found that he enjoyed the rigours of his part-time career, so much so that he volunteered for any and all courses that became available through the PDF. It was an added bonus that attending all these courses meant that he spent less time suffering the tedium of life in the ship yards. It also meant he managed to avoid the worst of the Guild skirmishes and turf wars that dominated life outside of working hours of the working classes of Laviax, and those that he couldn't avoid he was better equipped to deal with than most of his comrades. He didn't avoid them through any sense of fear of getting hurt, he just saw them as pointless exercises in bravado, as there was no real prize to be won by the victors, apart from bragging rights.
Gallan was actually in the capital city waiting to be mustered back to Laviax after completing one such course to become an assault pioneer, when word of the massive Ork incursion into the system and orders for full mobilisation came down the line. He didn't think it would be long before his new found sapper skills would be called on in defence of his planet, and in some ways looked forward to an actual life or death combat situation, after only playing at it for so many years. He would soon learn that getting what you wish for can prove to be very dangerous indeed.
His equipment is pretty much PDF standard. A battered helmet that he was issued on his first training camp many years before, well worn but carefully maintained flak jacket, webbing with more pouches than is regulation, and a backpack. He keeps his bayonet strapped to the chest of his flak jacket next to a field dressing, having learned during the Guild street battles he did his best to avoid that having a blade or a bandage close to hand and easily accessible could prove the difference between life, and if not death, at least a serious maiming. After discovering a fondness for blowing things up while on the Assault Pioneers course, he tries to keep a demolition pack on him at all times, but considering how often he is called on to use them, this does not always prove possible. In lieu of a demo pack, he squeezes as many grenades into his kit as he can. As for his las carbine, he's not quite sure how many he's gone through since the commencement of combat, but it's definitely in the double digits. The one he currently possesses was taken from an injured sergeant he helped evacuate from the front line. It hasn't let him down yet.
Last edited by Khorne's Fist; 01-29-16 at 04:30 AM.