| Name: Cold | Race: Russian | Concept: Assassin | ||||||||
| Player: Kevin Brammer | Nature: Loner | Mentor: | ||||||||
| Chronicle: | Demeanor: Autist | Haven: | ||||||||
| Strength: 3 | Charisma: 2 | Perception: 3 | ||||||||
| Dexterity: 4 | Manipulation: 3 | Intelligence: 3 | ||||||||
| Endurance: 3 | Appearance: 3 | Wits: 2 | ||||||||
| Alertness: 7 | Leadership: 1 | |||||||||
| Athletics: 7 | Melee: 7 | |||||||||
| Awareness: 7 | Security: 5 | |||||||||
| Brawl: 7 | Stealth: 7 | |||||||||
| Dodge: 7 | Survival: 3 | |||||||||
| Intimidation: 3 | Computer: 3 | |||||||||
| Streetwise: 2 | Investigation: 2 | |||||||||
| Subterfuge: 4 | Linguistics: 3 | |||||||||
| Drive: 3 | Politics: 2 | |||||||||
| Firearms: 7 | ||||||||||
| Quickening: 7 | ||||||||||
| Backgrounds | ||||||||||
| Wealth: 5 | ||||||||||
| Age: 4 | ||||||||||
| Contacts: 2 | ||||||||||
| Willpower: 6 | ||||||||||
| Concentration | Dark Secret | |||||||||
| Acute Hearing | Nightmares | |||||||||
| Acute Vision | Driving Goal | |||||||||
| Ambidextrous | Dark Fate | |||||||||
| Fast Learner | Enemy | |||||||||
| Magic Resistance | Emotional Isolation | |||||||||
| Underworld Ties | ||||||||||
| Double Jointed | ||||||||||
| Katana | ||||||||||
| Glock 20 (2) | ||||||||||
| Throwing Knives (16) | ||||||||||
| Tiger Claws (2) | ||||||||||
| Punch Daggers (2) | ||||||||||
| Armor: Class 1 Armor Rating = 1 Penalty = 0 | ||||||||||
| - Gremlin (Underworld Contact) | ||||||||||
| [email protected] | ||||||||||
| - Spider (US Government Agent) | ||||||||||
| [email protected] | ||||||||||
| - Several international bank accounts under dummy names. | ||||||||||
| - 2 tiger claws | - Various equipment | |||||||||
| - 2 Glock 20s (4 clips)(silencers) | ||||||||||
| - Katana (carried at all times) | ||||||||||
| - 16 throwing knives | ||||||||||
| - Owns properties all over the world. As well he has several | - Every major city in the world. | |||||||||
| apartments rented all over the globe. | ||||||||||
| Age: 789 | Imagine darkness incarnate standing before you. His cold ice blue | |||||||||
| Apparent Age: 24 | eyes, stabbing into the very essence of your being. His long dark hair | |||||||||
| Date of Birth: Sept. 19 1207 AD | shrouds his face as if mourning an incredible loss. His face gives away | |||||||||
| Age of "Death": 33 | no secrets. His mannerisms and movements show a cold | |||||||||
| Hair: Strait long and black | methodicalism. He is a killer among killers. His pain weights his very | |||||||||
| Eyes: Ice blue | essence to abysmal despair. | |||||||||
| Race: Russian | ||||||||||
| Nationality: Russian | ||||||||||
| Height: 6'1" | ||||||||||
| Weight: 190 lbs | ||||||||||
| Sex: Male | ||||||||||
Expanded Details
Flaws
Dark Secret: Is who he really is and what he was before
his immortality. He doesn't like to think about his life before
his death. He represses about how he let her down, and how he
hurt her. He secretly blames himself for her death. He tries desperately
to suppress her memory. It hurts him to know that he never had
a chance to express his feelings towards her. It hurts him to
know that he never really had a chance of being with her. After
his death "Cold" was born. As Cold he buried his feelings,
and his true self deep within him.
Nightmares: She comes to him in his nightmares. Not that
he feels animosity towards her, but as a subconscious yearning
to be near her, to be with her. He sees himself lying in a coffin.
He is looking upwards, looking at the darkness of a starless night.
He sees people standing around him, looking in on him. He believes
that they are all the people that he has either killed or hurt.
She standing to the left of his face, she leans down to say something.
Something that he can never hear. He always wakes up with sweat
dripping from his forehead. He lays back in the bed, and for the
rest of the night stares into the darkness, thinking "What
have I become?". He never answer that question, for he really
doesn't know himself.
Driving Goal: To win the Prize. He believes that by winning
the Prize that he will be reunited with her. That his pain will
disappear. That the nightmares will go away. That all his sins
will be forgiven. That he will be granted what he has been denied
for 756 years.
Dark Fate: Is his immortality, that death will never visit
his door. That he will forever be alone. Life for him is a continual
torture. Nothing holds much meaning anymore. He has lost his ability
to feel surprised in this world where predictability rule. All
the food is bland, and all the wine is bitter.
Enemy: The United States Government. Wanted because of
various murders involving high ranking government officials. As
well as his numerous involvement in US covert operations(classified).
As well as his involvement in selling away state department and
CIA secrets to underworld sources. The US government wants him
silenced at any cost. As of yet they are unable to locate his
current where abouts. It is suspected that he is somewhere in
Western Europe.
Emotional Isolation: This is caused due to his suppression
of all feelings. To feel would only bring back memories of what
he could not have. He wants to emulate death, cold and without
feeling. This is the only way he knows how to repress the pain
and loneliness of his existence. It is the only way he feels he
can cope with his immorality.
The Letters
I know that you are watching me, trying to keep up with my movements,
and my many aliases. I see you from my window seat at a restaurant
whose identity is as blurred as the faces of my victims. I can
even sense you following, ten, maybe twenty paces behind me on
a busy street. You must know of my intolerable condition, my place
in history. It is a sad situation to be forever trapped. Trapped
in the world of the mundane, by a force that stole death away
from me. A force that has left me forever separated. Make no mistake
I am eternal in body, but in mind who I was, that person who I
am sure you have more knowledge of than I do, has decayed and
rotted away in the strength of the winds of time that are forever
constant I assure you. All that I am now is a shadow, an echo
from the past, of the person who I once was. Sometimes I feel
more like a machine than human, an empty hollow vessel for a soul
that has turned to ash and whose hope is lost. I kill to fill
the emptiness, the void that envelopes me from within. The fulfillment
is always brief, and is washed away by the despair that soon rings
through me like the sound of the ocean through a shell.
I remember vividly the night that I died so clearly that it is
almost as if I had no other memories before it. The Mongols lead
under Batu Khan had come up along the Dneper River and where raising
the country side. We had received word that they were maybe two
hours ride way from Kyyiv, where we lived. Night fell as I left
the house with the scythe in my hand. My heart had fell with in
me as I said good bye to my beloved Natasha. I can still taste
her tears upon my lips, and feel her long dark hair cover my face
like a shroud. We embraced for the last time, and we both knew
it to be true. I tried not to look back to just accept the fact
that I would not be coming back. Thoughts of running back to her
and leaving Kyyiv before the attack started still haunt me today
like whispers in the wind. But I had no choice in the matter,
all those who did not defend the city were seen as traitors. And
as such were in Russian style promptly executed. I looked back
and saw her trembling while watching from the window. The farther
and farther away I moved from home, the more I longed to be with
her.
The battle happened along the banks of the Dneper River. You could
hear the horde coming at you. The ground shook under their berth.
Anticipation crept in, the waiting was unbearable, I could think
of nothing else but her, knowing that we could not stop what was
approaching. Feelings of defeat, feelings of how I was going to
let her down, of how I could not stop what was coming. Then they
came into view as dark blurs along the river bank. The sounds
of horses rumbling the ground, of men yelling and screaming, and
arrows whistling in the air. I clenched my scythe with all my
strength prepared to cut down all those who tried to get past
me. Then the rain hit, arrows falling out of the sky by the thousands.
I am not to sure about where I got hit first, second, third, …..
seventh. I remember dropping the scythe when the first one hit.
I looked down in shock at my chest just I was further impaled.
My eyes were water as I fell, and all I thought of was that I
had let her down. My face planted itself in the mud, the rain
pitter pattered infront of my eyes masking my tears. My heart
began to pump more fiercely. My ears hurt from the pounding of
the hooves getting closer and closer. And then blackness dropped
over me as that jet black horse planted its hoof into my back.
My last thought was I'm sorry Natasha. Nothing.
I awoke with dirt and blood in my mouth. My eyes hurting so badly
that I could barely find the strength to open them. My body had
been crushed into the dirt, breaking and impaling the arrows that
lodged themselves inside me. I tried to move my arms, to push
myself up from the ground. I smelled smoke in the air. The sun
was burning my eyes. I think that I barely managed to lift myself
a foot from the ground before, my arms gave way. I collapsed.
Natasha.
It was night when I awoke again. The pain had subsided, or had
been numbed, I am not really sure. The water from the river baptized
my face and arm. I managed to move onto my back. The clear night
sky greeting me. The only thing convincing me that I was not dead
was the pain I felt when I the arrows moved in me and the crack
of my back as I breathed slowly in and out. I tried to get up.
I had to know what happened. Even if it meant gripping the ground
with my teeth in order to move. I grabbed the scythe that lay
at my feet and planted its handle firmly into the ground, and
used it to lever myself up. The scythe was my cane. I hobbled
for what seemed like an eternity. I just had to know. Every step
burnt. Natasha.
I can't write what I saw. What did she do to them that deserved
that? I fell to the ground cradling myself to her body. I wanted
to die, I wanted to be with her. My reason for living was gone,
along with my heart. Why I was spared I don't know. I laid there
and let the cancer of my soul turn me black.
The monks from a near by village found me like that several hours
later. I wouldn't let go of her as they tried to concentrate her
remains. They held me back from the fire as her remains burned.
Natasha.
My continual death began that day, 756 years ago. I will never
forgive myself for letting that happen to her. Since then I have
killed more people, and destroyed more lives than I care to remember.
Of my kind I have killed 17. But I know that no matter how much
I kill it will never be able to fill the void that was once inhabited
by her. I know you will find this, and I hope this satisfies your
sense of curiosity. For this is a warning, leave me alone.
-Cold
Why do you persist in following me? I thought I made it clear,
that you were to stop that course of action. Today I saw you from
the window of my hotel room. You where down on the street reading
a news paper, or at least pretending to. You must of seen the
article, the pictures at least. You know that I am capable. I
wish all my marks were as easy as you. You owe your existence
to me for I could extinguish your flame anytime I want to. Isn't
your curiosity satisfied, or are you nothing more than a child
who still believes that the world is filled with strange and wonderful
things. I bet you are searching for the meaning of it all. I think
that you believe that I can answer your questions.
After my death, I headed north. All I wanted was to be alone,
to never have to hear another human voice. Humanity had betrayed
me. I wanted to shed all vestiges of humanity from me like a snake
sheds its skin. I wanted my eyes to be blank. I wanted more than
anything to just be nothing. To stop the pain, to stop the erracable
loss within me. I wanted to be as cold as I felt inside. The cold
can make you dead, it numbs the pain, blinds the eyes, and freezes
the soul. Everyone that I had cared about had left me, abandoned
me. Humans are sick. They only latch onto you for what you can
give them. They use you and abuse you. Everyone leaves in the
end. Everyone leaves, especially those you don't want to leave.
Fate always takes them. You end up either hating them, or never
seeing them again, Natasha. Her image haunted my mind as I slowly
plowed my way to the land where the only thing real was the darkness,
and the cold. I really didn't have a map or set plan of how I
ended up where I did. After her death every face I had looked
at looked detached, dead inside. Almost as if nothing was real
anymore, and yet everything was too blindingly real. The cold
took their faces and swept them away. The cold. I left humanity
because it left me. To me life has no meaning, no higher purpose,
cause to me nothing around me holds meaning anymore. There is
no meaning to it all.
Stop this quest of yours before you force me to act.
-Cold
Behind you.
-Cold