Rashemi, tall for his people. Neutral Good Storm Sorcerer Vremyonni, one of the last to be sequestered to train his magic in secrecy. Battlemage, wields one-handed swords as well as staves and polearms. On a second Dajemma of sorts, first one brought out his wanderlust, cannot stay put in a single place for long anymore. Intelligent and self-controlled, against the stereotype of Rashemi berserkers. Dons the mask only when useful during battle. Prays to the Hidden One (Mystra) mostly, but venerates the local spirits too. Zealously curious of outsiders' ways. Beefy for a magic user. Shares Minsc's philosophy on "butt-kicking" evil-doers to serve as a force of goodness and justice, but not as into the glory part. Practically brothers.
Wychlaran-whipped as the Rashemi tend to be. Easing a bit due to his travels, but still likely to answer with a, "Ma'am," in the presence of a particularly commanding woman, deferring to her authority. Jaheira and Minthara uses this to their advantage.
Cyberpunk 2077.
Netrunner/solo. Canadian expat, point of contact for the maple syrup mafia. Started out as a techie in plantations near the Canada/NUSA border, work got more military and pushed him deeper into American territory all the way to Night City. Believes in people's right to autonomy and agriculture, how he excuses the illegal herb gardening operation he runs out of his apartment. Appalled at the food quality in Night City, likely the only guy you know with a fully stocked, functioning kitchen. Has a soft spot for outcasts, particularly rockers and nomads, due to their run-ins in Toronto's factories and scrapyards. At least they stand for something. Quietly seething about all the unfettered capitalism, but channels that anger into productive outlets such as mutual aid via food banks, illegal seed distribution (hey kid, want some basil?), and minor vigilantism.
Works for MaxTac. Recruited after willing apprehension and reconditioning, the strange powers it's biotics granted by his experimental frontal cortex and nervous system cyberware of interest to NCPD and corpos. Too bad they can't be extracted—he'll just die and fry the components. Once someone figures how to extract them, however...
One-in-a-million, high tolerance for cyberware—idyllic childhood, supportive family, stalwart and incorruptible. Goes out of his way to nurture his humanity. One good deed a day keeps the cyberpsychosis away.
Fallout New Vegas.
Son of an ethnic Ukrainian Canadian couple, roots in English Bay. Father was a career New California Republic soldier, mother still alive somewhere out west. Joins the NCR to make father proud but grows increasingly uncomfortable with their expansionism and imperialism. Starts taking side jobs. Becomes a courier. Gets shot in the face (fuck you Benny!). Throughout the main story realizes every major faction vying for control of the Wasteland fucking sucks, with a special hatred for Caesar's Legion because they're slavers and cringe ass LARPers who failed Ancient History and Philosophy 101. Independent Vegas ending. Doesn't join the Followers of the Apocalypse until after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, finally convinced they're Vegas' best shot at a functional, fair society. Mostly a formality at this point since his ass was parked at the Old Mormon Fort annoying/flirting with/helping out Arcade and the Followers whenever he wasn't running all over the desert with him, Boone, Raul and Veronica.
The Kings think his hair is cool but would be better if he grew it out and styled it like theirs. Kaidan refuses that and the outfits. They still consider him an honorary member.
The asshole blasting Ain't That A Kick In The Head while shooting you center mass in V.A.T.S.
Star Trek.
in general Starfleet special operations, rank of Major. Son of an ethnic Ukrainian Canadian couple, Vancouver native. Father was a non-commissioned officer. Graduated from Starfleet Academy with a major in Engineering, winding his way from that to paramedicine and ultimately to special ops. Versatile, one of the few guys in Starfleet who can say he's served in every major division (Engineering > Medical > Command). Talk to him for more than five minutes and it's apparent why—he's amicable, cooperative, curious and stalwart. Technically outranks the captain of the ship he's assigned to, but the special ops designation muddies the water. He's also not fond of pulling rank, believing cooperating with the officer who runs the ship (and thus has the crew's rapport) better aligns with his goals. Has a good reputation despite being from a scary division thanks to this tendency. Hands-on, doesn't just sit on his ass while aboard your ship, helps out as much as he can, including tasks below his pay grade. Unassuming, which is disarming, helps him blend in. Mike Vining, not the modern Call of Duty stereotype.
star trek alternate original series Stationed at the Enterprise to defend the crew from all the war criminals who keep showing up.
AUs
Baldur's Gate 3.
Wychlaran-whipped as the Rashemi tend to be. Easing a bit due to his travels, but still likely to answer with a, "Ma'am," in the presence of a particularly commanding woman, deferring to her authority. Jaheira and Minthara uses this to their advantage.
Cyberpunk 2077.
Netrunner/solo. Canadian expat, point of contact for the maple syrup mafia. Started out as a techie in plantations near the Canada/NUSA border, work got more military and pushed him deeper into American territory all the way to Night City. Believes in people's right to autonomy and agriculture, how he excuses the illegal herb gardening operation he runs out of his apartment. Appalled at the food quality in Night City, likely the only guy you know with a fully stocked, functioning kitchen. Has a soft spot for outcasts, particularly rockers and nomads, due to their run-ins in Toronto's factories and scrapyards. At least they stand for something. Quietly seething about all the unfettered capitalism, but channels that anger into productive outlets such as mutual aid via food banks, illegal seed distribution (hey kid, want some basil?), and minor vigilantism.
Works for MaxTac. Recruited after willing apprehension and reconditioning, the strange powers
it's bioticsgranted by his experimental frontal cortex and nervous system cyberware of interest to NCPD and corpos. Too bad they can't be extracted—he'll just die and fry the components. Once someone figures how to extract them, however...One-in-a-million, high tolerance for cyberware—idyllic childhood, supportive family, stalwart and incorruptible. Goes out of his way to nurture his humanity. One good deed a day keeps the cyberpsychosis away.
Fallout New Vegas.
Son of an ethnic Ukrainian Canadian couple, roots in English Bay. Father was a career New California Republic soldier, mother still alive somewhere out west. Joins the NCR to make father proud but grows increasingly uncomfortable with their expansionism and imperialism. Starts taking side jobs. Becomes a courier. Gets shot in the face (fuck you Benny!). Throughout the main story realizes every major faction vying for control of the Wasteland fucking sucks, with a special hatred for Caesar's Legion because they're slavers and cringe ass LARPers who failed Ancient History and Philosophy 101. Independent Vegas ending. Doesn't join the Followers of the Apocalypse until after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, finally convinced they're Vegas' best shot at a functional, fair society. Mostly a formality at this point since his ass was parked at the Old Mormon Fort annoying/flirting with/helping out Arcade and the Followers whenever he wasn't running all over the desert with him, Boone, Raul and Veronica.
The Kings think his hair is cool but would be better if he grew it out and styled it like theirs. Kaidan refuses that and the outfits. They still consider him an honorary member.
The asshole blasting Ain't That A Kick In The Head while shooting you center mass in V.A.T.S.
Star Trek.
in general Starfleet special operations, rank of Major. Son of an ethnic Ukrainian Canadian couple, Vancouver native. Father was a non-commissioned officer. Graduated from Starfleet Academy with a major in Engineering, winding his way from that to paramedicine and ultimately to special ops. Versatile, one of the few guys in Starfleet who can say he's served in every major division (Engineering > Medical > Command). Talk to him for more than five minutes and it's apparent why—he's amicable, cooperative, curious and stalwart. Technically outranks the captain of the ship he's assigned to, but the special ops designation muddies the water. He's also not fond of pulling rank, believing cooperating with the officer who runs the ship (and thus has the crew's rapport) better aligns with his goals. Has a good reputation despite being from a scary division thanks to this tendency. Hands-on, doesn't just sit on his ass while aboard your ship, helps out as much as he can, including tasks below his pay grade. Unassuming, which is disarming, helps him blend in. Mike Vining, not the modern Call of Duty stereotype.
star trek alternate original series Stationed at the Enterprise to defend the crew from all the war criminals who keep showing up.