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Wolf; WIP
Topic Started: Nov 7 2013, 05:38 PM (80 Views)
Vandy
Vault idiot
[ * ]
BASICS

Name: Donald Tribone
Age: Roughly 40 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Human, Mixed, Mexican and Italian descent.

STATS

S: 6
P: 2
E: 7
C: 8
I: 7
A: 6
L: 4

PERSONALITY


APPEARANCE



HISTORY

The Wastes never forgave, but occasionally, they did forget.

The Wastes seemed to forget how often Donald had killed in his younger days. The Wastes forgot the strapping young man known as One-Eye Wolf who had spent five straight years slaving innocents in the heartland of Grand Texas. The Wastes didn't forget one thing, however: the Wastes never forgot the death of Billy Tribone.

Donald was born to an elite farming family within the New California Republic. For decades, his family had farmed and supplied the Republic with much needed crops, primarily farming wheat and fruits. Young Donald was the heir to the dynasty, the next owner of hundreds of arable acres, a commodity that was nigh impossible to obtain. But, as fortune had never favored him, there was never a time when people could look onto the massive Tribone farms and thank Donald for his hard work. Richard Tribone sold his massive empire, including his farmland, the contracts of all of his workers, his trading posts and caravans, and all mercenary contracts to the New California Republic, who then turned the real estate into land for share-cropping. The Tribones, now with thousands of NCR Dollars in their pockets, went off to live the rest of their life in luxury. Mr. Tribone purchased a chunk of land and enlisted the help of former friends and began building a house where the family could live comfortably for years.

Donald couldn't have asked for a happier family. His family was always in delight: his younger brother pleased with all the attention given to him, his older sister filled with joy over all her independence. Even his parents were smiling people. His father seemed to smile brighter after he beat Donald, and his mother always felt better after yelling at her son. Things got worse when they moved out of the farm. Now that Donald didn't get to help them on the farm, and therefore get some acceptance from his family, he was seen as useless.

His school life was slightly better. He attended the closest school house (a relaxing six-mile walk every day), Franklin's Elementary on the western border of Nevada. There he met Robin Guy and Gary "Fire' Westerly, the two people he could call friends. Robin introduced Donald and Fire to the works of art: fine literature, music, paintings and sculptures. The three of them would spend days searching for and admiring over intact records, or unburnt books. Whenever the families would visit California, they would join them and get their way into every library and find every collection of Pre-War artifacts in town. Fire brought something widely different to the group: adventure. The little guy was always looking for a good time, always smiling, yet always thinking of something devious. The other two kept him out of trouble, however.

Donald couldn't say he brought much to the group. He was simply there for most of the beginning. Yet, in the years to come, he would find himself the unquestionable leader.

The boys stopped schooling the same year, for one interest. Running away. Robin and Fire, Donald knew, were abused as badly as he himself was. They arranged an elaborate scheme. Donald, with the wealthiest parents, would steal the cash and clothes that they would need, as well as a wagon to take them away. Robin, the son of former Rangers, vowed to obtain all the weapons and armor that the boys would need. Fire, with not much to steal from his poor parents, aided Donald in his theft.

Donald and Fire had all the cash they predicted they would need, bags of clothing and medical supplies, and some food and water for the trip. They set up the wagon and stole two brahmin and rode to Robin's house. Once they arrived, they heard a single gunshot. Donald, concerned for his best friend, nearly ran into the home of trained killers, unarmed, but Fire pulled him back into the wagon and told him to wait. After fifteen long minutes, they saw Robin leave his house with a rifle strapped to his back, two pistols on his belt, and boxes of ammo in his hands. The newly-turned adult crawled into the wagon and the trio pulled off, their sights set on the grand east.

The next month and some odd days were spent fighting off the various wildlife and unruly raiders of the Wastes. After their first encounter, they realized how inept they were with guns, and chose to stop at the next settlement and train, as well as resupply. They did so, and set off for the east once more, but slightly more prepared. Weeks later, they arrived at a town that fit their needs. A growing city within the remains of another one: Austin, Texas. They began to do odd jobs, grabbing every cap they could until they had enough, plus the stolen NCR dollars, to purchase a house to fit the trio.

Finding permanent jobs was harder. Gary, after working with various people as a bodyguard, joined up with a local militant group, the Defenders. Since Robin and Donald had significantly less experience in any one field, they kept wandering from job to job for months. On one of his jobs, Robin met a man who was looking to found an institute in Austin. Robin showed interest and the two joined up.

Donald, still having trouble with settling down, signed on with some mercenaries in the area, known as the Silver Dollar. The company set out weeks after he joined with them, and they toured the Texas wastes for a few months, taking on various raider and slaver organizations.

As he was on tour, Donald met a woman, a beauty who went by the name of Star. She was a doctor with the Silver Dollar, turned field medic for the combat tour. They met one night by the company campfire, and Donald would tell for years that he fell in love that night. Star had a different story, being too intoxicated to remember a detail of their night together. Yet, weeks later, they got together once more, and from then on they were each other's.

The Silver Dollar company, numbering in the hundreds, split into three smaller groups to overtake a slaver camp. The plan was rather simple, surround and conquer.

The larger groups succeeded in their plans, taking out large portions of the slavers while doing so, but Donald's group didn't fare so well. As they were following their orders to capture an outpost, they were ambushed and completely dominated. All those who put up a fight were killed on the spot. Donald surrendered, seeing no other way out, and let himself be taken in to slavery.

For seven years, he worked as a slave, being swapped between several owner's hands in his time of servitude. His tasks fluctuated: he was once a pack mule, thrice a butler, seventeen times a bodyguard, and five times a regular worker.

He was working as a bodyguard under one particularly cruel boss when he was given freedom, and only by pure luck. His boss, an up and coming drug lord in the heartlands of Florida, was killed during an altercation between him and a client. The hired guns under his boss, more loyal to his cause than the slaves would ever be, fought off the angered buyers, which bought time for Donald and three other slaves to slip off in the marshes, carrying with them rifles and a single bag of food. The four slaves continued north until they found a settlement.

The people within, however, were harsh isolationists. They refused to give them any quarter or offer any trade. The turned-down slaves continued deeper into the wastelands.

They stumbled upon a small tribal villlage, who had yet to make any connection with the outside world. They appeared entirely self-sufficient: they lived in the depths of the desert, but built their village around an oasis, which was little more than a supply of water and various mutated plantlife. The four slaves met the tribesfolk and became idolized for touring around the wastes, as all four of them had done.

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Vandy
Vault idiot
[ * ]
EQUIPMENT

AFFILIATIONS
REPUTATION
RELATIONSHIPS

ON-GOING HISTORY
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