Hardrad Domingo
Hero of the People
NAME: Hardrad Domingo
FACTION: FPSC
RANK: Hero of the People
SPECIES: Human Mutant
AGE: 38
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 7'9"
WEIGHT: 370
EYES: Brown
HAIR: Light gray
SKIN: Ashen-white
FORCE SENSITIVE: Force-Dead
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STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths:
Man of Might - Genetically mutated into being stronger than normal, the process overshot its expectations and the otherwise usual results were multiplied, giving him greater stature.
Man of Honor - Hardrad's sheer force of will and noble manerisms make him someone who is listened to.
Man of Iron - Hardrad's sense of pain is deadened and numbed, and his drive easily pushes him past most people's threshold, partially due to being mute in the force.
Weaknesses:
Wayward to Man - Hardrad is not someone that is easily connected to. While he can be admired and is often beloved by those he commands, he is always alone in a crowd.
Lost to Man - Hardrad's not only mute in the force, but is infact dead to it. He has exceptionally poor luck when it comes down to chance, as well as no sense of intuition.
APPEARANCE:
A strong, imposing individual, Hardrad is best described as a giant to his peers. With a weathered face and a scar-ruined body, any sort of attractive look he may have held has been washed away by the hard life of a soldier, a laborour, and a freedom fighter. His hair is thinned in areas where Acklay's have narrowly missed his head, his chest scarred by the marks of a Wookie Berserker's blade, his arm burned by a Mandalorian Commando's flamethrower. Despite these blemishes, he radiates pride and strength, his shoulders square and head held high.
BIOGRAPHY:
Hardrad's life is a bit of a tall tale. He wasn't born at 4 foot nine with a wood-cuttin ax in his hand, rather, he was born at ten pounds, upside down and nearly strangled by his umbilical. His Grandmother told his parents on his birth that he would be a child to face challenges, but no matter what, he would triumph. These words define Hardrad well, as growing up he was sickly and weak. He was oft unwanted by his peers and rarely found a place where he could fit in. As if in rebellion, when Hardrad began to mature his body began to bulk up, spurred on by the Junior's rage at his lot and some strange force at play. His body and soul were hardened deep inside, his trials of youth providing a strong wall to build against. Rather than buckle or break, Hardrad grew.
When he reached adolsences, his growth hardly stopped. While most of his peers could barely claim a mere six feet at the best, Hardrad was toeing the border to seven foot. His muscles bulged and his back was strong, but more than that his will and sense of right never wavered. Those who had mocked him had grown quiet, refusing to utter an unkind word to anyone in his presence, or around those who might speak of such an act. Those who sneered at him for his weakness now cowered from his might, afraid that should the gentle giant turn violent, they would be among the first to feel his wrath. Among it all, however, the downtrodden who had suffered as he had flocked to him, admiring his low, quiet voice and stoic demeanor.
When he became an adult, he enlisted in the military, seeking to protect and aid his fellow man. For all his goodwill, however, Belgaroth was deeply seated with corruption and evil, his superiors missusing him for their own personal gain. Years passed, a few forign deployments that lead to the deaths of many people Hardrad himself respected and liked, and finally, one fateful suppression of a riot that would shape Hardrad forever.
When the First Worker Uprising began, Hardrad was the Lieutenant of the task force dispatched to silence the opposition. He did his duty without comment, but inside, seeing what was being forced upon the people, he was in anguish. He suffered from his own inaction and deeds for months, before finally confronting his superior about the actions he had ordered. What transpired inside that office is often a subject of bar-room whispers, but what is known is that not long after, the doors of the office were blown off their hinges by the body of the Captain of the Guard, flung out his own door, across the reception room, and into a pillar where his body effectively broke from the force of the toss Hardrad had delivered. The Court Marshal was to take place two days later, but such an incident never happened, for the Final Uprising began the very next morning with the strike on the Barracks.
Hardrad called out to the remaining Guards, yelling to them, that if they felt as he felt, if they knew as he knew, that they would stand and protect the people, not the Governor, just as he would. Far fewer Soldiers sided with Hardrad than he would have liked, but of those that did, shown the brightest. As the upriding began in earnest, Hardrad's command grew to incorporate partisans and worker-militia who had joined Hardrad's trained corps. When the rebellion hit full-strength, he was there with the people, ordering his tanks to protect his Comrade Workers, and his soldiers to pave the way for their fury.
At the end of that last day, he stood shoulder to shoulder for the first time in a room of equals, not followers nor supperiors, but truly his equals. His deeds spread far and wide across the city after that, and the people knew that while they had earned their freedom of their own accord, it was Mighty Hardrad that stood at their side, a protector and champion of the People, defending them when they could not.
SHIP:
None
KILLS:
None
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
None yet
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ROLE-PLAYS:
So None Shall Go Hungry
FACTION: FPSC
RANK: Hero of the People
SPECIES: Human Mutant
AGE: 38
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 7'9"
WEIGHT: 370
EYES: Brown
HAIR: Light gray
SKIN: Ashen-white
FORCE SENSITIVE: Force-Dead
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
Strengths:
Man of Might - Genetically mutated into being stronger than normal, the process overshot its expectations and the otherwise usual results were multiplied, giving him greater stature.
Man of Honor - Hardrad's sheer force of will and noble manerisms make him someone who is listened to.
Man of Iron - Hardrad's sense of pain is deadened and numbed, and his drive easily pushes him past most people's threshold, partially due to being mute in the force.
Weaknesses:
Wayward to Man - Hardrad is not someone that is easily connected to. While he can be admired and is often beloved by those he commands, he is always alone in a crowd.
Lost to Man - Hardrad's not only mute in the force, but is infact dead to it. He has exceptionally poor luck when it comes down to chance, as well as no sense of intuition.
APPEARANCE:
A strong, imposing individual, Hardrad is best described as a giant to his peers. With a weathered face and a scar-ruined body, any sort of attractive look he may have held has been washed away by the hard life of a soldier, a laborour, and a freedom fighter. His hair is thinned in areas where Acklay's have narrowly missed his head, his chest scarred by the marks of a Wookie Berserker's blade, his arm burned by a Mandalorian Commando's flamethrower. Despite these blemishes, he radiates pride and strength, his shoulders square and head held high.
BIOGRAPHY:
Hardrad's life is a bit of a tall tale. He wasn't born at 4 foot nine with a wood-cuttin ax in his hand, rather, he was born at ten pounds, upside down and nearly strangled by his umbilical. His Grandmother told his parents on his birth that he would be a child to face challenges, but no matter what, he would triumph. These words define Hardrad well, as growing up he was sickly and weak. He was oft unwanted by his peers and rarely found a place where he could fit in. As if in rebellion, when Hardrad began to mature his body began to bulk up, spurred on by the Junior's rage at his lot and some strange force at play. His body and soul were hardened deep inside, his trials of youth providing a strong wall to build against. Rather than buckle or break, Hardrad grew.
When he reached adolsences, his growth hardly stopped. While most of his peers could barely claim a mere six feet at the best, Hardrad was toeing the border to seven foot. His muscles bulged and his back was strong, but more than that his will and sense of right never wavered. Those who had mocked him had grown quiet, refusing to utter an unkind word to anyone in his presence, or around those who might speak of such an act. Those who sneered at him for his weakness now cowered from his might, afraid that should the gentle giant turn violent, they would be among the first to feel his wrath. Among it all, however, the downtrodden who had suffered as he had flocked to him, admiring his low, quiet voice and stoic demeanor.
When he became an adult, he enlisted in the military, seeking to protect and aid his fellow man. For all his goodwill, however, Belgaroth was deeply seated with corruption and evil, his superiors missusing him for their own personal gain. Years passed, a few forign deployments that lead to the deaths of many people Hardrad himself respected and liked, and finally, one fateful suppression of a riot that would shape Hardrad forever.
When the First Worker Uprising began, Hardrad was the Lieutenant of the task force dispatched to silence the opposition. He did his duty without comment, but inside, seeing what was being forced upon the people, he was in anguish. He suffered from his own inaction and deeds for months, before finally confronting his superior about the actions he had ordered. What transpired inside that office is often a subject of bar-room whispers, but what is known is that not long after, the doors of the office were blown off their hinges by the body of the Captain of the Guard, flung out his own door, across the reception room, and into a pillar where his body effectively broke from the force of the toss Hardrad had delivered. The Court Marshal was to take place two days later, but such an incident never happened, for the Final Uprising began the very next morning with the strike on the Barracks.
Hardrad called out to the remaining Guards, yelling to them, that if they felt as he felt, if they knew as he knew, that they would stand and protect the people, not the Governor, just as he would. Far fewer Soldiers sided with Hardrad than he would have liked, but of those that did, shown the brightest. As the upriding began in earnest, Hardrad's command grew to incorporate partisans and worker-militia who had joined Hardrad's trained corps. When the rebellion hit full-strength, he was there with the people, ordering his tanks to protect his Comrade Workers, and his soldiers to pave the way for their fury.
At the end of that last day, he stood shoulder to shoulder for the first time in a room of equals, not followers nor supperiors, but truly his equals. His deeds spread far and wide across the city after that, and the people knew that while they had earned their freedom of their own accord, it was Mighty Hardrad that stood at their side, a protector and champion of the People, defending them when they could not.
SHIP:
None
KILLS:
None
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
None yet
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ROLE-PLAYS:
So None Shall Go Hungry