Sors - Character Introduction

[Vibe]

Name:

Sors 

Age:

24

Weight:

185lbs

Height:

6.3ft

Birthplace:

Unknown

Affiliation:

Caesar's Legion

Relationship Status:

Devoted to Mars instead of Women

Early Life

Sors' early life is mostly unknown. The legionaries have overheard rumors and murmurs of his life before the legion while in the fort. His birthplace is unknown even to Sors himself, for his parents were in a caravan so the waste was the only place Sors knew. He had stopped in towns and outposts while traveling with his parents and became exposed to the ideas and beliefs of the legion. While walking into a settlement his mother gasped while his father attempted to turn his young son away, but it was too late. Sors turned his head and looked up into the sun and saw the shadow of a poor man crucified on a cross. He did not turn away ever, Sors understood that for a human to be punished in this manner the person must have truly done something horrible. From that day forward he began to mature and soon decided to abandon the relative safety of the caravan lifestyle and pave his own path to glory. 

Legion Encounter

The first couple of seasons following his departure from the Caravan were difficult. He relied on the kindness of others and learned of their own stories and tales. Settlers, Wasters, and Soldiers all told different stories but a certain name kept appearing, Caesar's Legion. It was these tales that allowed Sors to understand what that man had done many years ago. The man was most likely a chem dealer, thief, or enemy of the state. Regardless of the man's crimes, the punishment will be the same. After learning of the Legion's encampment nearby, Sors set out on a mission to learn more from the Legion themselves. Several days later after walking on the old cracked roads of what was known as Nevada, he saw the smoke from fires reaching for the heavens in the sky nearby. Before he could get the camp itself into his vision he felt the cold steel press against the back of his head.

Introductions

Soon the world went black as a sack was placed over Sors' head and he felt his hands secured behind his back. He felt two sets of hands grab each arm as he was brought into the camp. After a few minutes of them dragging him into camp by his arms, he heard the familiar sound of a tent zipping up as he was inside it. With the sack still over his head a man spoke in front of him "Why are you here? Are you an NCR spy?" Sors attempted to remain calm and said "No Sir I-". Before the words could leave his mouth he felt a blow to his gut. "Do not call me sir. You will call me master because as of now you will be taken as a slave for the legion." As the men attempted to pick up Sors he tried once more to say his piece. "I am deeply sorry. I meant no ill intentions. I simply am a wasteland looking to understand your culture." The men stopped. "You wish to understand our culture? You know not of Mars?" the man said to him. "No I was a mere boy when I saw a man crucified on a cross. Ever since then I have been deeply intrigued by your culture," Sors said hoping this would not be his end. They thought for a minute before saying "Take him to the priests they might have use for him" before Sors was dragged out of the tent. After yet another dragging session as he was brought through the camp, he could hear men all around him sharpening their blades and loading their magazines. Sors began to hear the sound of metal being hammered out on anvils and suddenly was dropped onto a chair. A new voice spoke to him "Hello waste lander. I have received word that you wish to understand our way of life is that correct?". Sors looked in the direction the voice was coming from and said "Yes teach me the ways of Mars." The man spoke once more "Once these teachings have begun you will never see your family or friends again. Your life will belong to Caesar do you understand?". "Yes" was all Sors could get out before a wave of light rushed into his eyes as the sack was lifted from his face. He was met with a man wearing a mask of sorts with a black robe covering his body. "What is your name waste lander?" asked the robed man. "I don't have a name. My parents just called me son and saw no need for a name," Sors spoke. "Then I shall give you your name. But it will be earned in good time. Until then you will be a slave of Mars and do whatever the other priests and smiths ask of you. Understood?" the priest said. Sors simply nodded as his life had just changed forever.

Induction

The majority of time in the first week was spent learning the layout of camp and where he should and shouldn't be. Spots like the blacksmithing tents, mines, and farms are where he spent most of his time. Between going back in forth gathering water for the crops or moving the coal from the mines into the forgeries, Sors stayed very busy. After a month or two of his work, the priests deemed he be worthy to properly begin his training and introduce him to the Cult of Mars. He sat down opposite the very priest he first met when he arrived at camp and was simply asked "Are you ready to begin your training slave?". Sors nodded. The priest brought over a 10mm pistol and set it down on the table. "The Cult of Mars is more than just praying to Mars. We also make and maintain all Legionary weapons. The gun before you seems to have a problem with it. Figure out what it is and fix it." While being in a caravan a weapon was not uncommon to him and he had a basic understanding of them. He begins by putting the weapon on safety. He pulled the receiver back and noticed the bullet had become jammed in the area where the receiver meets the barrel. The magazine was ejected next before he attempted to pull the receiver block off. After a bit of force, it slides off and he removes the bullet before setting it down on the table. The priest nods his head and says "Good work slave. I believe you have finally earned your name. You will now be known as Sors. Prospectus Sors."

Promise

He slowly honed his blacksmithing and weapon-making skills over the years of battle. He worked his way up the ranks and heard the tale of fellow smiths throughout the Legion. Salamance was a smith located in the Mojave who was working on researching a weapon. He was an NCR soldier who was shown the light of Mars and he switched sides and began to assist the Legion. One night while he was gathering supplies he was grabbed by a group of men. When the morning came his tent was empty and he was never heard from again. His work was lost and his legacy was forgotten by most except Sors. Another smith out of the Mojave known as Deusdetit was renowned in the legion. He was fanatical in his beliefs and even had his tongue cut out and mouth sewn shut. He wore the mask of a Brahmin skull to hide his mouth from people who didn't need to know of his beliefs. Deusdetit was a renowned blacksmith and was called back to Flagstaff to help maintain supply lines of his new weapons and armor. Following his departure from the Mojave, they needed a new blacksmith on the front lines and Sors was chosen. Sors was confident in his abilities and planned to help the Legion crush the bear by any means necessary. He arrived at the camp in the coming days and made his introductions to the members of the camp. 

From that day forward he made a promise to himself. That promise was to be the best blacksmith the Legion has ever known. Sors then placed a Brahmin skull into the forge and waited for it to become black, now being known as the Burnt Bull.