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Yoren Winthriver
[[1]]
*I take no credit for the posted image. Image is merely a palceholder until appropriate image of Yoren is made*
Biography
Born May 31st, 2258, Pacific Northwestern Wastes, Longmire Settlement.
Race Human
Affiliation Longmire, Mojave Wasteland, Capital Wasteland, Commonwealth Wasteland
Role Gunsliner, Hunter, Mercenary
Location Mojave Wasteland
Statistics
Level 17
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. STR: 5 PER: 6 END: 5 CHA: 5 INT: 7 AGL: 7 LCK: 5
Skills Guns: 100. Survival: 80. Explosives: 50 Melee: 75 Speech: 70 Repair: 80 Tagged Skills: Guns, Repair, Survival
Perks Cowboy, Commando, Gunslinger, Fight the Power, Hunter
Derived stats HP: 275 DT: 22
Inventory

1 .45-70 Brush Rifle, 1 .357 Magnum Revolver, 1 12-gauge Lever-action cut-down shotgun, 1 Bowie Knife, 12 pack of dynamite. Reinforced leather duster, motorcycle jeans, combat boots, canteen, bandolier for .45-70, .357 and 12-gauge rounds.

No information

"Now, you see, you can't just charge the bastards like that. Dumb as they may be, when that big fist of theirs comes down? It's like being run down by a line-haul truck." --Yoren on combating a squad of Super Mutants. Edit

"Whatever next? What the fuck is up with these knob-donkeys?" --Yoren on being ambushed by a gang of highwaymen. Edit

"After all this plumb-fuckery, you can deal with my six-gun. Or my 12-Gauge. Or my Brush Rifle. Shit, you can come over to meet the family AND a crate of dynamite if you want!" --Yoren on being stiffed on a job. Edit

Standing at 6 feet tall, with steely blue eyes, brown/blackish hair that goes down almost to his hips (And, and more than a couple of scars, the first comparison many people make of this post-apocalyptic gunslinger is 'Viking'.

Yoren grew up in the scarcely populated pacific northwestern wastes, living in a settlement under the shadow of Mount Rainier, in the ruins of what used to be a town called Longmire. He grew up learning to hunt the various species of Yao guai in the area with his father, and quickly learned proficient use of 'Cowboy-Action' weapons. Single-Action revolvers, repeating shotguns, lever action rifles, and of course, large knives.

Speaking of his old man, his dad was not only a proven hunter, but a lawman of the town, and a retired mercenary. He met and became romantically involved with a tribal women, and after one too many nights under the stars together, he found out he was going to be a dad. They married, settled down, and when Yoren was born, on May 31st 2258, his parents swore to teach him everything they knew.

As he got older, he began to tire of the constant hunting. At the age of 18,he got to speaking to one of the merchants who'd come up from SacTown, a settlement that's part of something called the 'New California Republic.' Aching for adventure, he spoke to his parents about it. Sadly, it didn't go over well, as they didn't want their son over 1,000 miles away from them in what was rapidly becoming a war zone. They very sternly told him no.

But, whilst Yoren was known in his settlement for his super-computer of a brain, he was also fiercely independent, once adolescence set in. So one night, he grabbed his rifle, shotgun, revolver, knife and duster, and hopped into the back of a New Canaanite trade truck, and rode down south.

Once in the Mojave, he wasted no time taking mercenary jobs and making a bit of a name for himself. Even got hired as a personal guard a few times. Most thugs wouldn't tackle with him.

As it stands now, he'd been in the southwestern wastes for a little over 2 years. He contacted his family back home. They were rightly pissed at first, but after hearing he was making good money, and was happier, they chose to let him stay in the Mojave...Atleast, for the time being.

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