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Jarek "Ash-Hand" Vorn - Details

Born

15 December 4115

STR

9 (-1)

DEX

14 (2)

CON

11 (0)

INT

12 (1)

WIS

16 (3)

CHA

10 (0)

Administer

0

Connect

0

Exert

-1

Fix

0

Heal

-1

Know

1

Lead

-1

Notice

2

Perform

0

Pilot

0

Program

-2

Punch

-2

Shoot

-1

Sneak

-1

Stab

2

Survive

-3

Talk

0

Trade

0

Work

-1

MAX HP

30

Speed

30ft

Occupation

Owner and Bartender of the Ashvault Cantina

Archetype (i.e. Class)

Retired Syndicate Enforcer / Cantina Proprietor

AC

11

Age

28

Species

Human (Cyborg)

Gender

Male


Backstory

Jarek "Ash-Hand" Vorn is the proprietor of the Ashvault Cantina on the industrial world of Verokha, deep within the Felo Star-System. Formerly a precision "problem solver" for the lower-tier syndicates operating in the Trade Constellation's shadow, Jarek traded his contract for a liquor license a decade ago. He acquired the Ashvault when it was little more than a slag-heap bunker; the "Ashvault" name comes from the literal layers of volcanic ash and industrial soot he had to shovel out of the basement to get the taps running.

While he presents himself as a neutral arbiter of disputes and a simple pourer of drinks, locals know better than to cross the counter. His reflex for violence hasn't dulled, though he prefers a blade to a blaster. He maintains a fragile truce with the Trade Constellation authorities, paying his exorbitant taxes promptly to keep their inspectors from looking too closely at the "private rooms" in the back where sensitive information—rather than just drinks—is exchanged. He is strictly a city-dweller; despite living on Verokha for years, he refuses to set foot in the untamed wastes outside the settlement walls.


Description

Jarek is a gaunt man of average height, his posture deceptively relaxed as he leans against the bar. His skin is pale and pockmarked from years of living under Verokha's smog-choked sky. His most striking feature is his right arm, which is entirely cybernetic from the elbow down—a matte-black, unadorned utilitarian model that earned him the moniker "Ash-Hand." He typically wears a heavy, grease-stained blast-apron over grey synthetic fatigues. His eyes are sharp and constantly scanning the room; one is natural brown, the other a cheap, glowing red ocular implant that whirs faintly when he focuses.