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Saul's Ex Jactura

0 · 249 views · located in New Earth

a character in “Armageddon: Lucifer's Wrath”, as played by TheChaplain



Full Name: Salus Ex Jactura
Alias/Nickname: Scratch
Age: 49

Status: Nomadic "Gideon went up by the route of the nomads east of Nobah and Jogbehah and attacked the unsuspecting army." -Judges 8:11

Izhevsk Cossack Mosin Nagant (bolt-action rifle)
Compressed silver bastard sword - (the blade itself is made of silver, the hilt however is fashioned out of smooth hardwood the sword has no pommel. The sheath is an elbow length walking stick made of the same wood, treated to be fire resistant and waterproof.)
Butterfly knife
Beretta M9 pistol
"But if they do not listen, they will perish by the sword, and die without knowledge" -Job 36:12

30 years of combat and survival experience "You know I've worked for your father with all my strength" Genesis 31:6

The foundation of who Salus is lies within his faith in God. Privately dedicating his life to God at the age of seven, Salus lived in a broken and hurting household, and grew up in a world of depression and pain; being the only one in his family to call himself a "christ follower" and the only one to graduate high school of his twelve siblings. Though throughout each of the four times he planned to kill himself, God touched his heart, and he couldn't do it.

When the rapture came, it came came like a sudden storm, a storm that covered the earth in the fires of hell. Gathering in a church atop a hill, Salus (20 at the time) and a handful of other Christ followers prepared to make their last stand against the hell spawn. Each of them knew in their hearts that this was not the end, and that they would be reunited in paradise with their eternal father in heaven; not, however, without ending the existence of as many demons as possible before they left. As they fell one by one around Saul he prepared himself for death as he slaughtered beast after beast. Just as he was about to fall prey to a fatal blow a bright light flashed before him, and over the corpses of the demons stood the Archangel Michael, dressed in armor of heavenly light. The Angle carrying a message from God, told Salus that his work on this earth was not yet complete, and there were those who would need him if they were to still be saved. Then with white flames from the palm of his hand the Angle compressed the silver cross at the top of the churches steeple into the blade of a sword; leaving Salus to the task he had been given.
"In the same way, good deeds are obvious, and those that are not obvious can be hidden forever" 1 Timothy 5:25

Salus relies completely on God for everything in his life, and as such he will usually run from problems he hasn't had a chance to pray about or think over; this can make him come off as passive, or even cowardly. This problem is not without cause however, while in his youth he may have met most problems head on, Saul also has his age to consider. With his 50s on the horizon, Salus finds that he no longer has the endurance or zeal of his early years and as such finds himself having to rest longer and longer after any taxing actions, from anything to combat to climbing a mountain.
"I came to you in my weakness with great fear and trembling" 1 Corinthians 2:3

While Salus may be slow to take action (and slow to recover from the actions he does take) he has also gained incredible wisdom, faith, and experience throughout his years of wandering. When he strikes, it is with strength forged by years. When he moves, it's with a level of assurance that comes from faith capable of moving mountains.
"Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and does not doubt in their heart but believes what they say will happen, it will be done for them" -Mark 11:23

30 years of fighting has left Salus as tattered as the cloak he travels in:
A small vertical scar separates his left eyebrow in half.
Wrapped around his right shoulder and leaving intermittent marks on his forearm is a series of burn marks.
Saul is missing the last inch of his pinky and the fingernail of his ring finger on his left hand
Salus has a round hole-shaped scar just below his ribs on his left side, and an identical scar on his back.
A long scar runs from the bottom of his knee to the top of his hip on his right leg.
Finally, Salus has the script "In nomine patris, et fili, et spiritus sant" tattooed just above his heart.

Over extended isolation in the wastelands of earth have turned Salus into a bit of a hermit. He often finds himself muttering to himself weather it be scripture or just his thoughts on one subject or another. He still however has human contact on occasion, as has a sense of humor (as rare as it is to see). Other than this, Salus can be generally classified as introverted.

Physical description:
Saul looks younger than his age, but not by much. Standing 5'10" and weighing 155lbs without his gear Salus is built tough, though you would know it by first glance as he is usually hunched over by the weight of his gear over long periods of time. Salus gave up on keeping his hair short a long time ago, and has let it grow into shoulder length bronze dreadlocks. His beard thankfully does not grow past an inch and a half. Though streaks of grey can be seen at the roots of his beard and throughout his dreadlocks, he hides this well with the large pointed brown hood of his cloak, which he usually has up, hiding his green eyes and long hair. If it were not for the rifle slung across his back he would look somewhat like a man on a pilgrimage.

Saul wears only underwear, a thin muscle shirt, and a pair of black shorts underneath his brown priests robe; a robe that has lost a few inches at the bottom due to time on the road, and has gained somewhat of a black tint at all of its edges. A simple rope is used as a belt around the waist of the robe.

On his back is slung his reliable rifle, and over that his large backpack. With all of this weight Salus often finds himself shifting a lot of his weight onto his walking stick, which is also serves as the sheath for his sword.

Salus is confident in his combat abilities against most common and uncommon demons, however he actively avoids succubi.

... Salus loves plums.

So begins...

Saul's Ex Jactura's Story


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Character Portrait: Saul's Ex Jactura
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Dust and ash; remnants of a world, now a distant dream. The dry dead remnants of a few trees laid spaced out in every direction, although only a dozen or so would be visible at once due to the low fog of ash. Salus readjusted the thin cloth he had adopted as a mask. He had been walking for the last week making decent time towards the colony of New York from Milwaukee; the last two days however he had found himself pushing through the northern foothills of the Appalachian mountains. 

"This used to be beautiful." he silently said, mumbling to himself as he occasionally did. He imagined the numerous pine and fir trees, and the mighty oaks that used to stand proud where now only a blanket of their remains covered the land. "To think we ever took your creations for granite Lord," Salus said giving a quick look towards the sky "perhaps now at the end of our existence we find our appreciation for what we no longer have in abundance." Saul thought of the few spots in the country that still carried life. His mind drifted from thoughts of an Oasis in Florida he had visited, a pine forest untouched by demons in the Minnesota territory, and a mountain path in the Rockies. "thank you God, for the blessing we still have." a feeling of joy washed through Salus and for a moment he forgot how tired his old joints were.

Salus jumped over an ash-blackened creek, pushing off the bank with his walking stick. He landed on the other side, throwing up a small cloud of ash up into the air as he landed. He inspected his feet. The cloth wrappings he employed as socks were turned black over the last few days of travel, and his leather sandals were beginning to adopt the color as well. No matter. He would arrive at his location within the next three of four days, he would pick up a new pair then if possible.

The silence of the day was broken by a long distressful call. Salus pulled back the large pointed hood of his cloak. The cry came again, louder, but shorter. "Elk" Salus guessed. It came from over a hill just in front of him. Salus crouched down as he ran up the hill, his steps muffled by the soft ground. At the crest of the hill he ducked behind a dry fallen tree trunk. Taking off his backpack to reduce his profile he peered over the trunk.

"Imps" Salus said quietly. Surrounding a large Elk were perhaps 5 or 6 imps. Salus inspected the creatures. Short in stature they were only about 3 feet tall, as tall as they came. Their red skin appeared a grey pink, made that way from the ash no doubt. They reminded Salus of winged baboons, if baboons had giant heads, no fur, horns, and a barbed tail.

The creatures, as odd as they were did not shock Salus as much as their prey. This forest had been dead a long time, he was nearly a day from any suitable habitat for the beast. "You've come a long way" Salus said as he pulled his rifle around to his front.

An imp lunged at the neck of the elk with fatal intent. His leap was met with an antler to the side of his head, and the creature was nocked to the side, red blood washing away ash from its temple. Salus shouldered his weapon and peered down the sights. The action wass less than 20 yards from him; an easy shot. He lined up the head of his target with the iron pin at the end of the barrel and squeezed the trigger.

The head of the imp snapped to the right, it was dead before it hit the ground. The others looked towards where the shot came from, and began running towards the shooter with hellish laughter. Salus slapped the bolt of his weapon upwards and drew it back, releasing the spent round into the air. The imps, half running, half hopping with their useless wings, made it another 6 yards before Salus had another bullet in the chamber. He lined up his shot, and another imp fell backwards, dead.

Salus reloaded quicker than before as he worked up a rhythm. Another imp fell prey to his marksmanship before they were close enough for Salus to put down his rifle. Leaning the weapon against the tree Salus abandoned the shoulder strap of the weapon, and reached for his walking stick. With his left hand he held the stick in place as he grabbed the top 8 inches with his right hand and pulled. Salus drew the straight blade from the staff and stood up. With his left thumb he drew an X across his face. "Alright God, guide my blade." he said, and calmly walked towards the remaining imps.


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The fire danced and crackled, gently blowing embers into the midnight skies. Salus sat silently near the flames slowly stroking his bronze beard deep in thought. Over the fire, impaled on his sword, rested four large haunches of elk meat, slowly being dehydrated.

Salus let his hand wander from his chin to grab onto his walking stick. He pushed a piece of wood closer into the flames, releasing a brief dragons breath of embers in front of him. The walking stick went back to its resting place and Salus's hands found a place in the air in front of the orange glow.

"Thank you." Salus whispered to God. "heh, I can't tell you how long it's been since I've had good elk." He smiled as he thought of the game he would soon be consuming. "But I'm sure you know anyway."

Salus looked over his shoulder. Six graves were lined up behind him where he had buried the hornless bodies of the imps. It's not like Salus was showing respect to the beasts. He just knew the nutrients of their decaying bodies would do nothing above the layer of ash. Imps were not inherently evil, Salus wasn't even sure if they even answered to Satan, they were just beasts, twisted by hell. Either way, their horns could be grounded up into a powder used to make some of the quietest firing gunpowder he had come across.

"Never been to New York after rapture." Salus thought out loud. 'it was quite the lively city before though.' he continued in his mind. 'I just hope it's better than the Milwaukee colonies... Some real brutal characters there, that's for sure.' Salus thought back to a particularly short tempered trader who refused to sell him food because he was 'nothing but a stingy old man.' Salus didn't blame the man for wanting no less than 10 bullets, but that didn't change that Salus couldn't spare that many.

A stick in the fire burned down and broke in half, causing the fire to fall an inch or two. Salus adorned his wide hood over his head to shield from the coolness creeping behind him. He reached over to his left, grabbed his pack, and placed it behind his back so that he could rest his weary muscles from the days travels. From a side pocket he produced two leather bound books, void of labeling, and a short pencil.

He opened the first one, a thick tattered tome, to a particular page somewhere short of the middle, and rested the book on the left of his lap. The second he opened towards the end and began writing with the pencil, using his right knee as a hard surface.

"Chapter 22. One." Salus mumbled aloud as he transcribed. "A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver and gold." Salus adjusted his grip on the pencil, and moved the boom on his knee. "The rich and poor have this in common-" Salus trailed off in his mind. He would rest his body tonight, however his mind would find no rest in this wasteland.