Sasil 'Hound' Pynon's Authorization Application

[Frolie [Jellykid]]

Player Section

Steam Name: Frolie
Age: Fourteen, Fifteen in Early October.
How long have you been Roleplaying? (can be any game): About 4 years now, around the time Fallout 3 and Oblivion were coming out.
How long have you been playing Serious GMod RP?: About a year and a half, starting with HL2RP.

Character Section

Authorization(s):
- Skills in hunting (ICly might go out to hunt in the future, come back with some sort of animal, etc.)

- Very Advanced Melee Combat Skills, as well as strength that is high above the average. The combination would make the character a threat to the average man, and pose a variable danger to those with training, obviously with significant "Evening-Out", as they would be more-or-less equivilant in skill.

- Rudimentary Firearm Skill. This shouldn't come into play often, as the character detests the personal use of guns.

- The following combat weapons, as well as the skill and know how to weild each one: A steel Sickle, with a wooden handle, a 150 Pound Compound Bow, able to pierce completely through flesh (and even some woods), a small combat knife, mostly used for skinning hunted animals, or on rare occasions, as a backup weapon, a carpenter's hammer, for use in improvised combat, and to top them all off, a spear, two feet in length.

- A Thick Kevlar Vest, able to stop the penetration of small arms fire (9mm), and absorb some of the velocity of a higher caliber, hopefully keeping the bullet from piercing all the way through the target area (IE .357 rounds, shotgun pellets, and SMG rounds). Also, a long coat made from animal pelts, the result of the aforementioned Hunting Skills.

- Extreme Height, and (as I've mentioned before) above average physical strength. The character would almost reach seven feet in height, standing at 6 feet and 11 inches.

- Understanding of a variety of languages: English, French, Afrikanis, Kwangali, and Khoekhoe.

- Extreme Pain Tolerance, by no means completely immune to the physical sensation.

Name: Sasil 'Hound' Pynon
Age: Mid-to-Late 20s, exact age unclear.
Gender: Female
Affiliation: None

Write a detailed in-canon back-story how your character obtained these authorizations.

Part One: The Chieftain's Son...?

Spoiler for Hiden:

This is by far the longest portion of the back-story. Don't think it's all like this.

The Ziweti tribe of Namibia Africa was a peculiarity to behold. While embracing certain modern technologies, they continued to maintain their tribal heritage, and refused to leave their desert homeland. The tribe was of humble size, no more than eighty individuals within their camp. Among them they had three vehicles, all of them trucks, and some flashlights, but besides these royalties, the tribe kept their roots close. They hunted with bow and arrow, and on rare occasions even dagger. They fought among each other with similar weapons, for fun or for motive. Without doubt, they weren't strangers to killing. They’d kill poachers hunting for ivory, and occasionally even the rare Safari-goer. On a few occasions, the tribe members had dared to attack outlaws driving shipments of firearms across their land, but the retaliation from the locally famed Warlord ‘Sergei’ had been so fierce that none dared to attack them again.
 
Leading the tribe was Ghafi. His wife, Hourte, was given to him as a gift, a sort of peace offering from a few ivory hunters seeking safe passage through their land. He killed the hunters, and took the woman regardless. The pair had already produced a handful of children, the majority of whom had died in their infancy from famine, disease, or some other unfortunate fate. Hourte was pregnant with their twelfth child, which was little surprise as she always seemed to be pregnant. It was anticipated that this would be the last child Hourte would be able to bear, as both she and Ghafi were growing old. Ghafi was set upon delivering a healthy son to take his place as chieftain when he passed, as his surviving children were all female.
 
The child grew massive inside her mother, over-cumbersome. By Hourte's sixth month, she couldn't stand without being toppled by the immense mass that grew inside her. By her eighth month, she looked as though she were literally about to burst around the skin. Many of those in the camp assumed that the child wouldn’t survive given her disturbing status in the womb. Fearing for his child’s safety, Ghafi drove into the market and brought back a doctor who could act as a midwife.
 
After the ninth month, the child had still not come forth. The child’s size had become so extreme that Hourte was constantly in pain from the weight that she bore with her. The mid wife couldn’t make anything of the situation. On the tenth month, the labor finally began. It was a disturbingly grueling process that lasted more than eight days. In the final hours of the delivery, the doctor spoke with Ghafi, and told him the truth of the situation; the child was too large to pass through its mother. If Ghafi wanted his son, then the mother would die in the process. If the mother was to be spared, then it would cost his son’s life.
 
Hourte meant little to Ghafi; simply a woman to bear his children. With hardly any hesitation, he resolved that the doctor would deliver his son, no matter what the cost. The eighth day had almost transcended to its ninth by the time the child was finally ushered forward. The passage of the child resulted in Hourte breaking both her hips, pulling out most of her intestinal tract, and in the end, losing her life. But it was not a son. A fourth daughter came to him instead, spelling the end of his family’s line.
 
The passing of his wife had been an extreme he was willing to take for his child, and now that that boundary had been passed, there was no length to which he would not go to ensure he had a child to carry his name. The child was massive, and could be passed off for whatever he chose. The only people who knew of the child’s gender where himself and the doctor. He gave it little more thought before taking he midwife’s head.
 
Ghafi kept his child close to him for years, paranoid that the truth would be discovered. In his years of raising his child, he noticed several peculiarities. She never, ever cried. Nothing seemed to ever cause her pain. There was also her extreme height. By the time the child was at age three she was four feet and eight inches tall. By the age of six, she was five foot four.  By eight, she had reached five and feet and eight inches, and was taller than both her father and the majority of the village.  Another obvious flaw in Ghafi’s child was her reasoning. She made incontrovertibly stupid choices, and got in fight with many children her own age. As was socially acceptable within the camp, Ghafi would beat her. Nothing severe, and certainly nothing that changed her psychologically, but she certainly learned from her mistakes.

 Sasil thought only what her father told her; she was a man. No one taught her or treated her any different than one, and without reference to contest otherwise, that’s what she took as fact. Not that anyone had any reason to contest her masculinity. She was taller than the most of the village by almost a half foot, and could truly not feel pain. It had been put to the test, on several occasions. One suspicious tribal even went so far as to hit her foot with a hammer. She made no reaction in the slightest, beyond the surprise that a villager would dare to inflict harm on the Chieftain’s son. Said tribal was later executed, at Ghafi’s order.
 
Ghafi knew that he needed to train Sasil in the ways of a warrior and hunter, if he wanted her to be accepted by the tribe as their new leader. However, he did fear the consequences of giving her the training to accompany her already violent behavior. None-the-less, he complied with what had to be done so his family name could live on. Petty squabbles were easy, but the way of war was new, and indeed, much different. But as the tallest of the village, and seemingly immune to pain, she took to it easily. By the end of her first week being taught how to fight with her hands, she could ward off most of those who fought against her in practice combat. Ghafi would say ‘A born warrior who cannot feel the sting of pain. Who would dare face him?’ There were no bounds to where Sasil wouldn’t excruciate herself.
 
After a handful of weeks training with her fists, Sasil graduated to being taught how to use a blade. There was a limited selection as to what sort of weapon she could use, but she was drawn to one an oddity, the sickle. Nonetheless, she was taught to use her weapon, and took to it with a professional attitude, as well with the mandatory weapon training with the spear, which was thought to be the most versatile, and there for most critical cog in a warrior’s arsenal. Melee combat came to her easily, but the same could not be said for battle at range.

Eventually, she was taught to shoot with a bow and arrow. At first she was frustrated with the weakness of the bow, and the slow, patient, practice of firing it. Their heaviest drawn bow could be easily pulled by her, and her aim has shoddy to say the best. Ghafi chose to teach her personally, that it takes patience and precision, and above all else, practice. Determined to get it right, she’d spend days and nights whole practicing until she was too tired to carry herself into a tent to sleep.
 
Nonetheless, her aim grew better, and not much a surprise to the community, she grew stronger. By her tenth birthday, she could wield a blade and shoot a bow like the best in the camp, and had reached a height of six feet feet. It was the decision of her father, and the other men of the camp, the she be taken on her first hunt. The first kill was a sacred rite of passage, as in to 'become a man'. Ghafi was intent on taking his child to slay her first beast. Sasil, her father, and four other tribal men went in Ghafi's truck, very early in the morning, armed with bows. They drove 80 miles of out, to patch of vegetation nearby the coast, and hid themselves among the tall grasses and tree tops, awaiting their prey of choice; antelope. The most common found species in this area were Gemsbok, but the occasional Springbok found their way out to the land, but were seldom killed, as they bore little meat in comparison to the Gemsbok.

After hours of patient waiting, the sun rose and the antelope came to eat. They came in packs of ten to fifteen, which made them ideal to hunt with a large pack, to take down as many as possible. Fortunately, Sasil had managed to teach herself to be patient through her long personal training with her bow and arrow. Ghafi told Sasil to fire first, and that the rest of the tribe would follow. After long minutes of finding her target and mark, she let fly with the first arrow, which, little to the surprise of Ghafi and the rest of the tribe, missed. The experienced huntsman managed to down one beast, and critically wound another. Ghafi ordered Sasil to finish the downed beast with her knife, to complete the ascendance into maturity. Sasil complied with her father's orders immediately, knowing she would be beaten for shaming the family in front of the other huntsman if she did not. She pulled the blade across the creature's neck, a variably quick death.
 
The first hunt ignited a new passion in Sasil. Having missed her shot the first time, she demanded to go on a second hunt soon, to which Ghafi willingly obliged. On her second hunt, she didn't shoot at all. She drew her bow, but after a moment of contemplation, slowly allowed the arrow to sink back on the cord. Instead, she watched the beasts and their movements. This went on until the beasts left on their own accord. This important practice was another great lesson in her life; silence and perceptiveness. This education in dead quiet and clear focusbecame a great attribute to Sasil's abilities, but for now, was just to impress her father. She repeated this process on several more hunts, and practiced her aim each time she returned home. On the nineteenth hunt, she finally left her second arrow fly. It was a perfect shot, just behind the shoulder blades of the antelope's front legs, piercing both lungs and the heart. The Gemsbok managed to run ten shaky yards before crumpling down into the dirt, dead.
 
After achieving the patience, the silence, precision, and discipline to stalk prey, fire a bow, fight with her fists, and wield a blade, learning more skills only broadened her horizon. Ghafi taught her to drive the truck, and the two went to and from the market twice a month, selling gathered herbs, animal pelts, and meat. She learned a large variety of languages at the market, as the dialect of Namibia was extremely diverse. Everything from French to Afrikaans was spoken there, and Sasil would learn from the negotiations her father had with the merchants. This was, more or less, the majority of her schooling within the tribe. While not being very bright herself, she was growing into a deadly weapon, and a true tribe leader; She was quick, quiet, precise, strong, and immune to pain. Ghafi called her 'The perfect warrior'.
 
Sasil could kill an animal, but a man was a different story. When she was eleven, she was driving to the market with Ghafi. While on the dirt road, they narrowly evaded a crash with another vehicle, which was run off the road. An angry black man exited the vehicle, with a rifle in his hand. Ghafi exited the truck, and tried to reason with him, eventually somewhat talking him down. But the visible tusks of a rhino in the man's vehicle revealed his profession; an ivory hunter. Such poaching was not allowed on the Ziweti's land, and Ghafi retaliated by shoving the man into the hood of the truck, a rather foolish move to pull on an armed man. But before the hunter could pull off a single shot, he met a brutal end. Sasil had watched the situation unfold, and had climbed out the window of the truck to make little noise. As the man raised his weapon, Sasil drew her Sickle, and took of his head without hesitation.
 
Sansil's first dance with death set into motion an unquenchable blood-lust. She'd patrol the Ziweti land, hacking down anyone foolish enough to stray too far off course. Even though she’d heard stories of what the gun-runners did to the tribals who dared attack one of their trucks, she couldn’t help be insulted and disgusted over the fact that they drove their vehicles on their land. While returning from a hunt one morning, she spotted one such vehicle; a hulking truck, visibly packed with wooden crates, likely filled with weapons. Outside of her father’s knowledge, or the knowledge of anyone in the camp, she killed off one such truck; the driver, a passenger, and a trio of guards in the back. She allowed the passenger to live unscathed, to tell the warlord Sergei transporting his goods on the Ziweti land would no longer be tolerated.
 
Sansil choices were the downfall of her tribe. When it came to the attention of the warlord Sergei that his shipment was not received, he was furious. He demanded the immediate elimination of the entire tribe, and hired mercenaries to carry out his dirty work. The attack took place early in the morning, during one of Sasil's solo hunting trips. While she was away, a team of thirty armed men rode into the camp, and slaughtered every man, woman, and child. They burned the tents, and the cabin, and filmed the executions of Ghafi and his daughters, as proof to Sergei that the job had been done. Sansil returned to the camp in stunned horror, the bodies of her family and friends strewn about the camp in small piles.

Part Two: Vengeance

Spoiler for Hiden:

Shorter than Part One, but still at moderate length.

Here in, revenge wasn’t an option, it was a necessity. Her father may have smacked her around some, but only when she earned it, and she never took a beating without also learning a lesson. Without her father, she’d never have learned to fight, with her hands or a blade, and certainly not with a bow. It was no longer a matter of if she’d get her vengeance, it was a when.

It didn’t take too much to learn who was at fault for her people’s death. The shells of bullets and the wounds on the bodies gave it away. No one else was armed liked the arms-dealer’s soldiers. Whatever was to be done from here, it couldn’t be reckless, like the actions that caused the tribe’s death. It was to be coordinated, and executed carefully.

Her weapons had not been lost in the destruction. She still had her bow, sickle, and spear. But what instruments she used were irrelevant. What she learned on her hunts, she put in place here; she watched first. She knew which way the trucks came and went, but that was all.

She gathered some food, and a good load of water, and then burrowed in, a short 500 feet from where she attacked the first truck. From what she could see, the truck and the bodies had been moved, but this too was irrelevant. After one week of hiding in a hole in the dirt (a large one, of course), finally a truck passed, wooden crates and armed men in the back. She watched them go, not moving a muscle. They had gone a decent 15 miles before her eyes failed her, and she could see them no more. She took her father’s truck (her truck now) in the direction she watched them go, burrowed in, and waited again.

This process continued, for more than three months. Of course, her skills never dulled. She had to kill to eat, and there was always something to kill. The trucks would come every two weeks, which made the process of tracking them very difficult, moving only about fifteen to thirty miles each time. But the trail did lead her somewhere, and that somewhere, to her surprise, was an authority checkpoint. A clever man would have figured it out within a minute, but Sasil wasn’t the smart sort. She burrowed in again, and watched the scene every two weeks. It was always the same: The truck would arrive, a man in the passenger’s seat would exit, the man and the evident officer in charge would exchange conversations, after which one would take a call with a satellite phone. The passenger would talk on the phone, then the guard would talk on the phone, and then one of the two would hang up. The passenger would receive a large envelope from the driver, give it to the officer in charge, and then the truck would drive off. The scene would begin and end in about a half hour.

She watched this happen three more times, another month and a half, before she put it together. Corrupt authorities, common in Namibia, but Sasil had never seen or heard of them. She’d only seen authorities once, a pair of vehicles riding across the desert. But she knew who they were, and knew what had to be done. On her fourth time watching the exchange, she waited until the phone call was over, and the passenger was fetching the envelope, before she let fly with an arrow. She was properly angled, and her bow was of great strength. It pierced clear through the passenger’s throat, and struck the driver in the eye. The passenger bled out in the road, but the driver died instantly.

No one knew where the arrow came from, but there were three armed soldiers on their highest alert, as were the four armed guards in the back of the truck. Those four were next; they were well armed, with automatic weapons. Best at moderate range, and still operable at close range, but in the tight quarters in the trucks back, they’d be in a tough position.

As expected, one of said guards made his way out of the back, and tried to shift the driver’s corpse to make an escape. Unfortunately, dead weight was too much for him to handle, and another one of Sasil’s arrows struck him in the back. At this point, her opponents had learned their lesson, and were staying behind their respective covers. Another planned move; when they can’t be hit, that can’t see. Sasil crept low, along the hillside, down to the side of the truck. She made short work of the three guards inside, with her hands and sickle. From the back of the truck, she dispensed two more guards with her bow, and killed the last guard while he fled from the scene, having thrown her spear into his neck as he ran.

She took the weapons-transport truck, and sped her way across the road as fast as the vehicle could take her, to make up for the time lost in the skirmish. The road forked into two directions. One led three hundred more miles to a small town. The other led about three miles, to a small trio of buildings affixed to a little air-strip, which could be visibly seen from Sasil’s position. For most, the small plane and air-strip may have tipped them off, but for Sasil, it was her experience as a hunter that told her where to go. The road to the houses obviously used very frequently; the other was clearly seldom utilized.

It had been almost six months Sergei had the Ziweti’s eliminated, and even then it meant little to him; a bump in the road, merely a necessity of business. Nothing was wrong with the day thus far. His phone call between the corrupt authorities and the shipment handler had come and gone, and besides the shipment itself being a bit late, everything was where it should be.

Sasil watched the trio of buildings. Months of dedication and planning would be meaningless if she couldn’t execute her plan correctly. Her mind told her to wait it out, watch the movements of the encampment, but her primal instincts told her to take the lives of those responsible for her family’s death. Before she could act on either option, an unexpected coincidence occurred. It was one in a million, an insurmountable collision of events. Four vans plowed down the opposite road, turned onto the encampment, and halted. Shortly after, armed men stormed out of them, at least five or ten in each van, collectively numbering upwards of thirty to forty. A barrage of gunfire ensued, from both the men from the vans and the encampment’s guard.

This occurrence was all that Sasil needed to know she had to act quickly. Whoever these people were, they threatened her chances of personally killing the man responsible for the death of her tribe. She left her vehicle, and rushed down to the firefight. In the blur of battle, she didn’t know how many she killed, or which side they fought for. Only after the battle had come to an intermission did she even realize that she had been shot in the hip. She paid no mind to the wound.

The first building was a sort of barn, or some type of storage area. The second was an accessory to the airstrip, likely a garage. The last was a massive house. It wasn’t fancy, but it was certainly large, and was ultimately a fortress. It was clear that several windows had taken bullets and hadn’t even shattered. While what was left of the armed attackers assaulted the front, Sasil went in from the back, scaling up onto a small balcony. She saw a Russian man barrel down the stairs, in such a panic that he didn’t even notice Sasil’s massive figure. She’d never seen him before, and didn’t know the characteristics that made him the locally famed arms dealer, but she knew it was him. She pursued him down the steps, and took another bullet in her ankle. Her pace didn’t change in the slightest. Sergei had evidently gone down into the underground garage, going for a vehicle to make an escape in.

He would have been safe, had he not stuck his hand out to close the car door. Sasil drew her bow, and shot it, pinning his hand to the door’s interior. She moved up closely, leaving no time for error. There was no Hollywood-esque speech, or even a definitive looked between the two. Sergei drew a pistol, and Sasil drew her Sickle. Sergei put a single round in her stomach, and Sasil took off his head.
Though she couldn’t feel pain, it didn’t mean she wasn’t affected by it. She had sustained three bullet wounds in the long brawl, and she had finally crumpled to her knees, exhausted from a day long venture of killing. Feet rushed down the steps to the garage, but Sasil was unconscious before she could see who they were. When Sasil woke, she couldn’t move. She was limp as a corpse, but could see her surroundings. Her tribal clothing was gone, replaced with a sort of hospital gown (which barely fit). One leg was suspended in the air and in a cast. Her hip was heavily bandaged as well, but above all else, her stomach was a mountain of pale cloth dressing. She was seated in some sort of hospital bed. She didn’t know it, but she was not in a hospital. Wherever she was, it was a long way from where she had come from.

Part Three: Redemption in Business / War

Spoiler for Hiden:

Back to a little more detail, none-the-less, shorter than Part One.

Where Sasil was, was an expensive house in London, England. She didn’t know this yet, but a she was in the home of Raymond Dumont, an international weapons dealer. Sergei was bush-league. Raymond was the real deal. Sergei had gone so far as to take a tiny quadrant of Namibia as his own industry, and it cost him his life. Raymond had sent a squad of mercenaries to eliminate Sergei, coincidently on the same night that Sasil had gone to get her vengeance.

But what struck Raymond was that Sasil had accomplished what 38 armed and trained men couldn’t. She had infiltrated the manor, and killed Sergei personally. That she did so while killing his hired guns was irrelevant. She was a prize, a needle in the haystack find, and would be his new weapon of choice.

When Sasil had more or less regained her strength, she knew better than to fight. Instead, she complied with everything her captors asked of her. First, she was assessed by a doctor. She didn’t know much English, but because some of the merchants at the old market spoke French, she could communicate. A mental study was done first. The conclusion was that she had sadistic behavior, as well as problems in the field of gender identity. No matter who spoke against it, or presented an argument against her, she’d insist she was male. The second assessment was of her physical condition. After a handful of tests, it was ultimately decided that she suffered from a pituitary gland disorder that caused her extreme size, besides being large from birth. Her inability to feel pain was a result of a disorder called Congenital Analgesia.

Raymond was respected, but he didn’t have the iron fist to back up that respect with fear. He had enemies, and hired guns were variably successful, expensive, and simply liabilities to his reputation in the business. It was for such reasons that he made Sasil a proposition: She would work for him, on call, within the city, to handle targets personally chosen by Raymond based in and around Europe, Africa, and Asia. A ‘Consulting Assassin’ he called it. She’d be given clothing, a place to live, someone to look out for her, and enough money to purchase whatever she desired. She’d also be given a few teachers and instructors to hone on her already keen skills in murder. It was this option only. Should she deny, she’d be put to death. What else was she to do? She could fight when she was able-bodied, but with her existing injuries, no matter how little they ailed her, she couldn’t fight, so instead, she agreed.

It took several months for her injuries to completely heal. After they did, she was introduced to urban society. She despised it immediately. Loud, busy, and distracting, it wasn’t the ideal place for a tribal raised in Africa. Nonetheless, she would be forced to adjust to it. She was brought to her new place of residence, a nicely kept apartment building. Her floor had several rooms; a kitchen, a bath area, a living room, a walk-in closet (not that she was too picky about her clothes), and even a Jacuzzi. All this was new to her, and she didn’t indulge in any of it. There was only one thing that enticed her immediately, and that was her new live-in tutor, Lana.

Lana was paid by Raymond to keep an eye on Sasil, keep her fed, teach her English and other rudimentary skills, keep the apartment clean, and things of that sort. But she was much more to Sasil. As a result of her upbringing, Sasil always thought it was correct that she was to sleep with women, but Sasil had never slept with anyone anyway, and the last person that would be her first would be Lana. She was tiny, and frail, and Sasil was (perhaps literally) a giant. Besides the physical differences, Lana was a celibate.

Nonetheless, the two of them hit it off quite well. Lana would make food while Sasil would struggle to understand Math and English. By this point, she was seventeen, and almost reaching her maximum height, standing now at six foot three.  Every day, Lana would drive Sasil to one of her various classes; She’d be taught to shoot at the range, which she never got too good at, besides her hating the use of firearms. Her skills in hand-to-hand combat were honed down to the professional by several different tutors, whom she’d visit every day for most of the day. When back at the apartment, she’d run on a treadmill, or lift weights, or some other physical exercise, or she’d learn more from Lana.

Eventually Sasil acted on her sexual feelings for Lana, a situation that ended with Sasil taking a few slaps to the face, for which she had no reaction in any way. Lana consulted Raymond personally about the matter, and eventually the resolve was to hire from a discreet escort service. After all, Raymond needed to keep his hitman happy. After Sasil’s first sexual encounter (no matter if it was a legal one or not), it became a regular activity. She’d have a woman, and on seldom occasions, a man, in her room almost every night. She was too stupid to understand that Lana paid them for their services.

Once the sexual feelings had been put aside, the Lana and Sasil grew platonically close. The two would play cards often, which Sasil found herself to be very good at, despite her deplorable reasoning skills. It was a year and a half of easy-going times, just exercise and training, card games and meals, before Raymond sent Sasil her first assignment. She was driven to a country manor in France two days after being briefed on her target: Damian Macintosh, an American who had wronged Raymond in some way or another, and this needed to be made an example of. Short work was made of him. Ignoring the tools entrusted to her, Sasil did the work with her hands, leaving the manor that evening with five dead, Damian included.

Grudgingly, Raymond accepted that Sasil would always refuse the modern technologies given to her to carry out her dirty deeds. Accordingly, he had a set of weapons made custom for her, maximized for use in combat. He had a Sickle made from galvanized steel, razor sharp, with a wide arc to make it easier on the arm. The compound bow was the most expensive venture. It too was made from steel, which was the only material that could sustain its incredible one hundred- fifty poundage. The spear was reconstituted as a hard wood pole, affixed to which was a blade made from aluminum and steel, to keep it light but strong. Among the weapons, he had a heavy Kevlar vest made custom for Sasil’s large figure, knowing that her ignorance of her wounds could well result in her death. With these accommodations, he made Sasil into an unstoppable machine.

Raymond gave Sasil more assignments over the continuing five years, each one becoming more and more reckless as she killed off more than necessary. She was becoming too much for Raymond to handle. Just as she had been for her tribe, Raymond knew she would be his undoing. He slowly cut his ties with her, finally using his assets in the police to have her put away. Such was no easy task, however. At the time of the raid, Sasil and Lana had been enjoying another game of cards. In the following cavalcade of confusion, Lana had been shot dead, and a trio of police officers had been killed. Sasil managed to escape (jumping from the fire escape to a neighboring building) with a duffle bag full of cash, her weapons, her Kevlar vest, a bug-out bag (which Lana had prepared for situations just like these), and one of the dead officer’s firearms.

Six years of mission experience told her that going after Ray was a lost cause, if it had even been him that was at fault. The only alternative was to escape, which was no easy task. She’d killed three officers, which certainly didn’t blow over quickly. Every block within a half-mile of the apartment had been cordoned off to assist in the search effort.

She took the elevator down to the basement floor of the building, and then took the stairs up to the ground floor. Once there, she broke down one of the windows leading into the street opposite of her apartment building. Two patrol cars sped down the street, but neither seemed to notice Sasil. Continuing on open roads was too risky, so she promptly made a decision to continue through the sewers. With her bare-hands, she pried open a man-hole that took her down into the drains, where she continued in any random direction she could. After bumping into several walls in the darkness, she eventually smartened up, and rooted around in her bug-out bag for a flashlight.
After two more hours wandering about the sewers, she was sure she had moved out of the half-mile radius, because she could hear the sounds of traffic over head of her. After another five minutes searching for an exit ladder, she made her way out onto the street, where she promptly stopped a cab, and forced him at gun-point to drive her out of the city.

The cabbie put up no heroic act. He saw a man standing at almost seven feet with gross muscles, armed with a fire arm, and stained with blood. There was little he could do. Once they had left the city, Sasil forced him to continue until they were entirely off the main roads, and out into the country. Once reaching their ‘destination’, the driver was promptly shot in the head, and the cab pushed off out of view of any passing vehicles. She continued up the road on foot, until eventually another vehicle came along.

Just as with the cabbie, Sasil forced the driver (and his passenger) to drive for several hours. She wasn’t sure where she was headed, but she knew she had to put as much distance as possible between her and London. After a few hours of driving, she killed both occupants of the vehicle, and began the process over again. She did this with seven vehicles, leaving a total of ten dead bodies in her wake over the course of two days.

In a rather round-about fashion, Sasil’s path of destruction brought her to Scotland. With little hesitation, she found an expensive hotel (these were all she stayed in while away on assignments, always at Raymond’s expense. She didn’t really care where she stayed), paid in cash for a room, and settled in to sleep, which was much needed. In the entire day she had rest, the media had sensationalized ‘The Giant’ who had killed three police officers.

Sasil wasn’t too smart. All her actions lead the police right to her. The vehicles bearing dead bodies lead a path into Scotland, which gave validity to the tip from the hotel that a gigantic man had paid in cash for a room. When Sasil finally woke the next night, a variety of police vehicles had surrounded the hotel, and preparing to storm it. Completely surrounded, outmanned, and outgunned, there was no escape from this situation. But another chance occurrence coincided with her near-death encounter.

 A hectic portal storm ripped the sky apart, and shook the earth below it. The quake was so extreme that several of the police vehicles outside were flipped completely over onto their side. What was happening, Sasil had no idea, but she began to make her way through the building that was literally falling to pieces as she ran. It took an entire hour to escape the death trap of the hotel as it crumbled to pieces, but when she at last made her way out, the world she looked upon didn’t seem to be much safer.

All manner of creatures were wreaking havoc on everything in sight. The majority of the police officers were dead, or being attacked by antlions, or their larger equivalent, antlion guards. Had Sasil thought things through, as she had learned to do through-out her life, she would’ve fled the scene. But again, her primal instincts enveloped her, and she began the longest and most vicious battle of her entire life.

She spent twelve hours out front of the hotel, killing anything and everything that moved. By the end of the battle, she was drenched in both red and yellow blood. She sat down on a wooden bench in front of the hotel, enjoying the first true silence she’d had in some thirteen years. More than a hundred dead Xenian creatures were sprawled out on the pavement, everything from Vortigaunts to Antlion Guards. The energy she gained from her day-long sleep had been fully exerted in the battle. She crept back into the remnants and of the hotel, and slept.

Part Four: Into the Valley

Spoiler for Hiden:

Very Short, just wrapping up the final details, and final inclusions of authorizations asked for.

When the time came that she rose again, she gathered her arrows from the dead bodies of the creatures outside, and sat down to tediously clean and wax everything. It was a boring and time-wasting exercise, but was entirely necessary to keep her weapons in their best condition. She waxed the cord of her bow, primed the sight, and sharpened her arrows. Then she cleaned her spear, and sharpened that as well, and finished by cleaning and sharpening her sickle. Somewhere along the trip, she’d lost her pistol, not that it mattered much. Besides hating it in the first place, she’d spent all the ammunition on unfortunate drivers. Before she left the scene, she tore the teeth of a dead Antlion Guard from its mouth, planning to make it into a necklace to commemorate her great victory.

From then, Sasil went back to her roots. She hunted wild game in the marshes and forests, gradually moving back South again. From the skins of animals she killed, she had a kindly Scots-woman who was selling her services as a seamstress to refugees in need fashion a coat for it. By no means was it very attractive, but it sealed out the cold well, and it was very intimidating, especially given the head of the wolf fixed to it that was utilized as a hood (a garment that would later earn her the title ‘Hound’, and to some ‘The Dog Man’). She swam across the English channel herself, fully clothed, and bearing her weapons. By no means did she make record time, but at least she passed. In her travels, she eventually met Beans, a kindly man who had befallen some harsh times. He hadn’t yet made his way into the canals yet, much less Ineu Pass, and was being hunted by a trio of do-good cannibal-hunters. In exchange for their deaths, Beans gave Sasil a 4-inch knife and promises of ‘favors in the future’. She didn’t think he’d last too much longer.

Time moved quickly. Eventually, she happened upon a trading caravan some year and a half after the war, and was hired as a guard. The trader who led the group, a Spanish man named Paolo, treated Sasil in a possessive manner, like she was his to command. In her time working for the caravan, she heard much about what was happening all around Europe, and eventually word of the group ‘The Crazies’, got to her, and of Beans, the man in charge. She resolved that the caravaneer’s life was not for her, and she was especially tired of being tried like Paolo’s dog. While he slept one night, she stabbed him in the eye with Beans’ knife. She could’ve taken anything she wanted from his supply, but she chose a select few items; a carpenter’s hammer, and a couple of maps detailing trade routes around Europe. After studying the maps for a while, she eventually found Ineu Pass, a seldom visited area in Romania. Not knowing why exactly she should go to Beans, she set out that very night, her weapons and attire in tow, towards Ineu Pass.

What will these authorizations give your character in regards to perks or defects?
Perks
Hunting and Gathering Skills
   + Will allow the character to remain self sufficient by living off the animals and plants of the land.
   + If desired, the character could sell off gathered meats and provisions as a source of income.

Very Advanced Melee Combat Skills
   + An obvious advantage in situations involving close combat against the average.
   + As Hound has done numerous times throughout her life, she could sell her skills to those able to pay.

Rudimentary Firearm Skill
   + Better than average skill with firearms, an advantage if she decides to use a firearm.

Weapons: Sickle, Compound Bow, Small Carving Knife, Hammer, Spear
   + Sickle: Would cause a lot of damage at close range, especially against an unarmed opponent.
   + Compound Bow: Would be extremely useful in both hunting and fighting, for taking out targets at moderate ranges.
   + Small Skinning Knife: A good weapon to hide away for use when needed (For example, skinning an animal).
   + Carpenter's Hammer: A weapon of blunt force. Would cause devastating damage at close  ranges.
   + An obvious advantage when facing an unarmed opponent.
   + Obviously intimidating, espicially given the character's existing appearance.

Kevlar, Animal Pelt Coat
   + Kevlar will obviously be of great assistance, when faced with an armed with a small-arms firearm.
   + Animal Pelt Coat will sheild Hound from the cold weather in the valley.
   + Animal Pelt Coat could prove intimidating to certain individuals.

Extreme Height and Muscular Strength
  + The character's extreme height would make her especially intimidating to the majority of folk.
  + The character's muscular ability would allow her to accomplish extraordinary tasks the average man can't manage.

Understanding of the following languages: English, French, Afrikanis, Kwangali, and Khoekhoe.
  + Would allow the character to communicate in a variety of languages, with people of varying nationality.

Extreme Pain Tolerance
  + Would allow the character to persevere through unimaginable pain and suffering.
  + Would grant the character an almost mythical status (as mentioned in the back-story, 'The Perfect Warrior').

Defects
Hunting and Gathering Skills
  - Hunting in the manner to which Hound is accustom is sometimes dangerous, and she could become injured.
 
Very Advanced Melee Combat Skills
  - Such skills add to her intimidating demeanor, and could make it difficult to forge allies / friends.
  - Her combat skills wouldn't give her a edge over a trained opponent.

Rudimentary Firearm Skill
  - Hound detests the use of firearms, and would choice her bow or other weapon without hesitation.
  - Her skill in firearms is very basic, as she never much cared for their use.

Weapons: Sickle, Compound Bow, Small Carving Knife, Hammer, Spear
  - Sickle:  Though easy to handle, it arcs widely, making the attacks easy to dodge by an agile opponent.   
  - Compound Bow: With such a high poundage, it would be extremely unweildy and dangerous to use.
  - Small Skinning Knife: Only four inches in length, it has little ability to reach a distanced opponent.
  - Carpenter's Hammer: Heavy and difficult to manage. Only an unwary victim would by vulnerable.
  - Spear: Wouldn't have much force to cause damage to a close target.
  - All weapons are frankly intimidating, and adds to her frightening persona, making it hard to forge allies.
 
Kevlar, Animal Pelt Coat
  - Kevlar would only entirely stop small caliber bullets, which would still cause damage.
  - Kevlar is useless against pulse ammunition.
  - Kevlar impairs mobility, which could make the character less effective in a fight
  - The coat could be looked upon as intimidating, making it difficult to forge friends or allies.

Extreme Height and Muscular Ability
  - The character's extreme height makes her easily identifiable, an extreme disadvantage when trying to stay covert.
  - The character's extreme muscular ability adds to her intimidating demeanor, which makes it difficult to forge friends or allies.

Understanding of the following languages: English, French, Afrikanis, Kwangali, and Khoekhoe.
  - The character speaks on rare occasions. Knowledge of these language is practically useless.

Extreme Pain Tolerance
  - Ignorance of life-threatening wounds could cost the character her life.
  - Ignorance of extreme wounds could result in crippling disabilities.
  - Without learning the consequence of dangerous situations, she's more likely to put her life at risk.

What do you plan to do with these perks/defects?
I plan on creating and developing an intimidating character, which I will both be seldom utilized or developed with strangers. Ideally, the character would become more myth than person, surviving by word of mouth, almost like a horror story. In reality, the character would come out of the wood work when drastic measures need to be taken, I.E. when the Outlands faces a new foe, or when the OTA take an especially hard approach to their routinely raid.

Collectively, I hope to increase both active / action RP, and passive RP.

Will anyone else need these auths? (If so, list OOC and IC name(s))
No one else will need these auths.

Which server does this apply for?
Outlands

Extra Notes (optional):

Frolie [Returned From the Dead]: lol
Frolie [Returned From the Dead]: I'm gonna post this version, just so admins have to read it.
Frolie [Returned From the Dead]: MUHAHAHAHA
Cpl. Tray [22nd AB NA] [MP]: Ok
Cpl. Tray [22nd AB NA] [MP]: LULULUL
Frolie [Returned From the Dead]: LULUUL

[Kevin]

Alright so, unless the admins are too ignorant to notice, Frolie's RP is exquisite, and though this would be an easy character to abuse, it should be obvious that he won't. For every combat RP situation ive ever been in, he's taken the hits instead of dodging them like a ninja, gotten shot and not DCed when people wee on the hunt for his characters, etc. Though this is a touchy app, I give my full 100% support.

[[LP]GMK-MRL]

I just want to point out really quick, that the inability to feel pain is one of the most dangerous things a human being can have as a symptom of a disease. People who have this disease usually die at an early age.

~Just a protip.

[Frolie [Jellykid]]

EDITED: Fixed some grammatical errors, and some problems with the BB code. Also added to the Defects (forgot to add some things).

[=[pG]=??¢ Griever]

Congratulations. You've written an auth that has caused me to waste 15 mins of my life reading. On the other hand, its incredibly good. Great story, and the perks balance the defects and vice versa. He's a great RPer, who has my undivided 100% support!

[Kevin]

I just want to point out really quick, that the inability to feel pain is one of the most dangerous things a human being can have as a symptom of a disease. People who have this disease usually die at an early age.

~Just a protip.

That's a good point, it's more of a hindering quality more than a helping, suppose someone stabs her in the back, she could easily bleed to death if herself or no one else noticed. And If she fell from a high place, breaking her leg, and got back up on it to walk, it could leave her  heavily crippled, and could quite possibly need her leg taken off.

[Frolie [Jellykid]]

That's a good point, it's more of a hindering quality more than a helping, suppose someone stabs her in the back, she could easily bleed to death if herself or no one else noticed. And If she fell from a high place, breaking her leg, and got back up on it to walk, it could leave her  heavily crippled, and could quite possibly need her leg taken off.

I just want to point out really quick, that the inability to feel pain is one of the most dangerous things a human being can have as a symptom of a disease. People who have this disease usually die at an early age.

Such was the idea behind the character. I made her carefully constructed so a smart opponent could be her equal, despite her abilities.

[Elions]

Well. That was a fucking long read.

Took my time to read it all this morning. And i have to say, the auth is written impressively to say the least.

The story is good. It makes sense, and while some minor grammar mistakes here and there exist, it's okay considering it's lenght (11 or so pages)

I'd say that while he's authing for a lot, i have to agree with Tray, Frolie's RP is amazing and detailed but not to an excessive point as well as balanced. If anyone deserves these auths, it's him.

+Support

[The Mysterious Stranger]

 I never read the story but I have a point to make. The most best people out there that could beat their opponent would either be a wrestler, a active military unit, a ex-military unit, a navy unit, a airforce unit (if it applies, I don't know) a forces unit (i.e. police, SWAT, special forces), martial arts.

[Colonel Glockpop]

I've seen Frolie work on this app vigorously over the past week. He's been working on it a lot during his free time in school, and also skipping out on his lunch time to go work on it in the library and or collect research to help contribute to his backstory. I can really tell how dedicated he is to this app. I've Rped with Frolie enough to say that his Rp is phenomenal, and that this will definitely not be abused whatsoever. I can definitely vouch for Frolie on this.

+1 Support

[The Joke]

Tray, I do not get why you are posting so much for Frolie. In my view this app is massively OP and even though Frolie is a good RPer I think that you are basically applying for a character who is like a SeC. Which in my view is completely ridiculous.

[raged]

I think this is a little over the top, regardless of how good of a roleplayer you are.

[Frolie [Jellykid]]

In my view this app is massively OP

I think this is a little over the top

The close quarters weapons all serve the same purpose. The bow is the single ranged weapon of which she uses, and I've seen several authorizations been approved concerning the use of a bow. Concerning the inability to feel pain, that's hardly a positive effect. If she just shrugs off wounds, it could literally kill her. It's probably one of the worst neurological ailments that could be inflicted on someone.

The hunting skills are purely for enjoying inter-character passive RP, for example, taking another character hunting, or handing over some meat for another character to prepare. Simply for the sake of increasing passive.

I can see where you would find the fighting skills perhaps a bit 'over the top'. But I'm sure that if you consult other characters I've RPed with, they can confirm my fairness in balance the defects and perks evenly. The character is by no means unstoppable.

The Kevlar vest has been authorized by several different people on dozens of different occasions. The character wears it because she has acknowledged that even though she can't feel it, wounds still very much affect her.

The extreme height and muscles are also questionable 'OP'. But the height is for purposes of intimidation, and makes her easily identifiable. The muscular ability also offers an intimidation factor, and does offer a notably higher ability to inflict damage, but authorizations are for opening up new options and abilities for your character, and I've offered reasonable defects for said authorization.

The languages are barely a concern at all.

End rant.

[Egf_Adam]

I give it +support I've seen Frolie RP for a long while and I can safely say that He is more than capable for this and won't abuse. I completly agree with Tray on this.

[[LP]GMK-MRL]

I'll give it a +support, because these auth's are for mainly intimidation and she could easily be taken down. But also, I thought it was a rule to where you can't apply for vests. And for the muscle irregularity, that is another dangerous hereditery disease that could crush your ribs and obliterate your heart if they become large enough. Then with the unusual height, giagantism is another thing that could even prevent your character from even walking and/or bending down depending on the severity. The fact that not making friends, is just a little defect compared to the large medical defects attached to these deformaties.