"Xenos! Bah. Gangers chasin' ya in a dead hab during hivequake is scarrier any day."
Name: Quint Sham
Homeworld: Scintilla (Hiveworld)
Fate Points: 3
Weapon Skill: 24
Ballistic Skill: 36
Accustomed to Crowds
Caves of Steel
Melee Weapon Training (Primitive)
Pistol Training (SP)
Basic Weapon Training (SP)
Tech Use (Int)
Speak Language (Scintilla) (Int)
Speak Language (Low Gothic) (Int)
Common Lore (Imperium) (Int).
Autopistol and 1 clip
street ware (Poor Quality Clothing).
Ballistic Skill Advance Simple (5)
Fellowship Advance Simple (+5)
You shouldn’t have lived this long. Your life has been filled with so many horrible events and unlucky encounters that it is a miracle of the infinite universe that you are still alive.
You’ve been an orphan, a thief, a swindler, a guide, an informant, a ganger, a dredge, and done any other kind of work in the lower portions of your hive to stay alive. The only things you’ve been armed with throughout your pitiful existence have been your fast wit and faster tongue. The knife you carry has helped too.
You’ve lived in the underhive for as long as you can remember, which is about 20 cycles. You don’t know who you were or what you were doing before you woke up bleeding from the head at the bottom of an air-purifier shaft. And lets just say that’s the happiest memory that you still have.
Still, maybe your luck is turning. Being grabbed by an Arbitrator from your bed in the middle of the night, thrown into the back of a cell-car, and driven to the very HQ of the Inquisitorium of Scintilla has to be a good thing, right? Right?