Artyom Barkov
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Pendant que la sieste était en soi plutôt agréable, Artyom ne pouvait pas se lasser toute la journée; Il y avait des choses à faire, des gens à qui parler, des plans à faire quand ils sont arrivés sur un terrain hostile, des exercices d'entraînement à courir; Bien sûr, il n'y avait pas beaucoup de place sur le navire pour quelque chose de trop avancé, mais même s'ils n'étaient pas une bonne unité militaire ne voulait pas dire qu'ils pouvaient juste relâcher l'enfer. Ils allaient sur le terrain de l'ennemi, il avait besoin de savoir que tout le monde sous son commandement savait ce qu'ils faisaient!
Les gens qui ne savaient pas ce qu'ils faisaient ont fait mourir des gens.
S'habillant d'instinct et de répétition, Artyom partit sur le pont du navire... et remarqua que Bowman parlait à une nouvelle fille. Pendant un moment, il a envisagé la possibilité qu'ils recrutent d'autres personnes de Santorin jusqu'à ce qu'il s'approche et ait un meilleur regard sur la fille... et a attrapé une bouffée d'elle. Il s'est vite retrouvé à la qualifier de réfugiée au lieu d'être une recrue possible. "Et je veux pouvoir manger du bacon et des émeraudes de caca. La différence entre nous, c'est que je réussis à mi-chemin." Il a vite parlé, ayant entendu l'intention de la fille.
En la regardant d'une manière qui jugeait clairement ses capacités et les trouvant voulant de ce qu'il pouvait voir, il a simplement demandé "Avez-vous une arme, une armure ou un entraînement avec l'une ou l'autre de ces choses?"
Name: Artyom Barkov
Appearance:



Age:25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Personality: Brash, somewhat arrogant and (if he believes himself to be right) rather headstrong, Artyom is not a man who backs down easily. His career as a professional mercenary as also left him as something of a 'Moral Void', having committed several jobs over the years that others might considered horrible without feeling a twinge of guilt; He manages to do this because he views himself as little more then a tool akin to an axe. After all, an axe doesn't care if it is chopping into wood, the skull of a wolf or the ribcage of a enemy, only that its wielder cleans it and ensures that it is in good condition.
He also believes that actions taken to help others should be done in as discrete a fashion as possible, both for the sake of the pride of those that are being helped and because if someone is making a big deal out of being charitable to others, they aren't doing it to actually help them.
Starting Classes: Mercenary
Starting Equipment: Iron sword and Vulenary.
Bio:
Artyom was born in the nation of Rjaskav in a rather poor, downtrodden village who's glory days were long passed with when the local silver mine ran dry. Opportunities to eat a steady meal were few and far between and as soon as Artyom was old enough to be considered a man when he turned thirteen he was given what his family could spare before being booted at the door to fend for himself so that his younger brothers and sisters could have more to eat.
With no future in his birth village, Artyom traveled towards the nearest city and by chance signed up with a mercenary band that was recruiting there. For over a decade he happily served with the Sunset Axe Company, occasionally fighting a battle with Solvnir but more often then not being employed to handle... more local disputes.
The onset of the Abyss was something of a short boon for the Sunset Axe company; They were able to make a killing protecting the wealthy from the onset of nightmarish horrors that came from the darkness at first, but after one battle went horribly wrong most of the company died and it was quickly decided that now was a good as time as any to retire with as much of their loot as they could. Fleeing towards New Capita, Artyom found himself without... well, anything to do. Granted he still had enough money to keep himself going for a while before that became a problem, but sooner or later he was going to have to address that.