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Oren

0 · 379 views · located in Vinlund

a character in “Wilde Jagd”, as played by VitaminHeart

Description

Image



Image
Full Name: Oren Dariya Kovalenko
Aliases: None
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Rank: Hound - Research


Appearance : Oren stands at about 5'7, an angular-looking woman with blue-black hair, grey eyes. She has high, noticeable cheekbones and a naturally pale complexion. While not exactly intimidating in stature, she carries herself with sufficient self-confidence, and a sort of unsettling avian demeanour which does send to set full grown men on edge. Shes normally found in a long coat, gloves, and whatever protective clothing is needed for her latest bit of research.



Skills: - Oren is incredibly intelligent, possesses an eidetic memory and can recall near anything in enormous detail. She can also calculate complex sums in her head, and is able to speak a number of languages.

-Oren possesses some of the most comprehensive knowledge on Fragment physiology and behaviour.

-Very fast in a fight and skilled with a firearm.

Preferred Equipment: A scalpel, a notepad, a look of disdain.

Weaknesses: Oren hates physical contact and tends to panic when she is grabbed.
-Built for speed, this making her comparatively fragile.
-Fears and obsessions and general control-freakery make it easy to get under her skin.




Persona:

Oren would be described as rather difficult to get along with. She's harsh, antisocial, and appears to have no sense of humour. She seems to find it very difficult to show any warmth to others, or even say something positive about them, and appears to have numerous obsessive hang-ups that hamper her ability to work with others.

Oren is a workaholic, to the point that people have grown to question whether she ever actually sleeps. Any hour people call into the research block the woman seems to be there, drinking coffee or looking discontented or dissecting something, sometimes all three at once. She is extremely dedicated to her work, and her work is very good. Oren seems to be in possession of an amazing degree of intelligence, and puts it to good use.

In spite of her rather difficult nature, Oren is highly committed to her work, both in studying the Fragments, and protecting the welfare of other Hounds. She will work tirelessly to solve problems and save lives, and this in itself seems to win her some degree of respect.

Known History:

Oren has been involved with the Fragments more or less her entire life.

The daughter of one of the guard on The Rock, with no mother present within her life (rumour placed her as the child of the man and a prostitute) Oren found herself living on The Rock for most of her childhood. The combination of a harsh paternal influence and the grim surroundings filled with hostile monsters made for far from the ideal upbringing, and for her own part Oren grew to be a highly capable and intelligent, but ultimately rather emotionally stunted individual.

She was around nineteen years of age that she was there to experience the attack on The Rock and Fragments running riot.

How the young woman managed to evade the carnage is not something widely known, and not something she appears to have any inclination to talk about, but Oren made up the number of one of the few people to survived the terrible night relatively unscathed.

After the destruction of The Rock, she followed the Herne family in the founding of Wilde Jagd, an took up a post as a researcher.

Oren has for some years studied Fragments. She has very little concern or compassion for the things, regarding them as nothing more than vicious animals in need of control. She has no concern about how they may feel about her own research. Perhaps that, in some way, serves as her personal form of retribution.

Other:

So begins...

Oren's Story

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Character Portrait: Oren
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Hunter's Castle - The Core

The sun had just begun to peek over the ramparts of Hunter's Castle.

Though at that point at least one of the Wilde Jagd had been awake quite some time.

A figure, wrapped in a long coat stepped with a brisk sense of purpose along the stone flags of the outer walkway, her presence eliciting a nod and a greeting from the gate's sentry.

Possibly with a hint of displeasure that a hound took it upon themselves to wander around the wilds by themselves at dawn.

Whilst Hunter's Castle sat in the Core region, it was to the north, near the border; an altogether more rough and dangerous place than the shallow valleys and farmlands near the capital. The view from the gate to the north was dominated by the grey, jagged spire of Mount Koan, and beyond that stormy range lay Vinlund and the other more scattered lands of the north. It was not uncommon for bandits to stray into the pine woods of this area.

Oren, for her own part, was not in the least bit scared by that prospect.

The Hound dealt with much worse things than bandits daily, after all. If you could not stare down storm starving northlander desperate for your boots without blinking then the likelihood that you would do anything but scream and cry against a Fragment seemed very slim.

She needed the walk anyway. There was only so long you could stare at a set of notes with nothing else to draw data from.

Access to any live fragment was a practice that was either tricky to achieve or extremely dangerous to carry out, and you stood little chance of getting anything done without a fair amount of backup. Something field agents were often too occupied with other work to provide.

And those returned dead were...only a limited amount of use. She'd dissected things, looked at samples and slides, separated blood out into its individual constituent parts, preserved parts in formaldehyde. All the things you might expect.But a fragment no longer alive was missing the vital part. The one piece the Wilde Jagd were truly concerned about.

Lately she'd found herself simply doing her best to pass time as productively as possible.

You could not afford to get complacent though.

Information was rather hard to come by on the fragments. News tended to travel slowly, so, when one was discovered you had to move quickly. And by special request Oren had gained permission to come along on the next mission. As a researcher it wasn't the typical mode of working.

You were hardly talking typical subjects either.

Achieving the permission from one of the hunters had been one of the easiest parts of the venture.

Informing field hounds of their obligation to let her along was going to be the more difficult part.

She made her way inside to the main courtyard. The primary blocks of the structure sat on each side. Research, Intelligence, Training, and the Barracks. Carved somewhere into the living rock below them were the cells, where the things they had contained now sat.

Normally her place was somewhere in the research building. Today however she turned to the east and the Barracks.

In order to ruin someone's morning.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager Character Portrait: Oren
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#, as written by Jag
Harren "Razor" Rager
Hunter's Case -- The Core
Barracks


Awake. Not the calm, refreshing wake of a sleeper rising from a long slumber after the body recharged and brought itself to face the day on its own terms. Not the begrudging, stubborn resistance of a sleeper dragged awake when slumber beckoned for a continued embrace. Not the startled wake of a sleeper jolted forward by a sudden sound crashing through the barrier of an otherwise pleasant slumber.

No, Rager awoke into the paralyzing embrace of an absolute and ineffable fear. The wake of one broken by a nightmare such that the sleeper's eyes break, but the rest of the body remains completely still as if restrained by whatever demons the sleep imagined from the cover of night. The wake of one for whom the mouth opened only to find the voice, the ability to scream, had been stolen and held hostage by the those same demons.

This was the way Rager awoke, the man with demons plenty enough to stay with him for the remainder of his days among those on the surface of the world still turning. Eventually, the demons released their hold, the conscious mind finally firing with synapses of waking logic that broke through the hold, the paralysis, the demons, with the simple thoughts that broke through all such nightmares. Words of comfort, supposedly.

It was all just a dream.

Rager rose to the spartan accomodations of his portion of the Barracks, feet finding the floor and the boots positioned perfectly a few inches to the left within seconds. Not quite the literally definitely of sleeping with one's boots on, but close enough. The man rose and stretched, a back pain that hadn't slept with him for many years now rising with him like a faithful companion. Or a nagging wife.

Rager dressed in the darkness and relative silence of the sleeping world. There were days he would have trainees awake for more than an hour already, going through the paces. No such luck today, no Pups to train into true, proper Hounds. No, today was a day for the field. A good day to die, the old Hound thought to himself and he placed the patch down over where a right eye had once glared at the world.

Stepping out into the light of the morning, Rager cleared his throat and spit off to the side. Maybe today would be the day the nightmares finally called Rager home. Or just another story, one to twist and relive in sleeping hours. And waking ones, too.

Speaking of bad dreams. Rager heard crunching footsteps and looked down the path to see a very familiar face. Scrunching his features together with a hard swallow of the morning, he address the early-risen face of Oren.

"Think you strayed a bit far from the cave. You do know this is where the real work is?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager Character Portrait: Oren Character Portrait: Vera
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Vera gave the lace of her vambrace a final sharp tug, feeling the plated leather hug firm to her forearm through her long cotton sleeve before tying off a deft knot with one hand. She rolled up onto her toes to reach her satchel where it lay on the top shelf, her feet feeling similarly snug in a pair of sturdy, flexible ankle-cut boots. Her hand touched the cold metal of the door handle, and she smiled at the sting of the sun in her eyes.

Vera Tetchneri had always been a morning person. Shutting off the delicious sensory input of being alive for the sake of sleep had always felt like a pitiful waste of time. She jogged to the meeting point, making her own breeze to cool and dry her short, metal-blonde hair, which still hung slightly damp from her earlier quick douse at the water pump.

Her manner seemed more akin to heading out for a morning of leisure than the arduous work of travel and risk. It would be hard to find any trace of the sobriety that probably should have been warranted, considering the relatively high likelihood of dying on the job. But she loved the job. She lived for the field.

Which was probably why seeing a lab rat outside took her aback a bit.

Vera caught Rager's sarcastic remark, so she announced her approach by replying, in her far North accent, "Ease up. You cannot be blaming her for wanting to be where fun happens." She looked at Oren, and managed to seem to be looking down her nose a bit despite the fact that she was a solid half a foot shorter than the researcher. "Kovalenko, yes?"

She trusted an explanation was in order. She dearly hoped this wouldn't slow them down.

The setting changes from The Core to Vinlund

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harran "Razor" Rager Character Portrait: Nadel Character Portrait: Oren Character Portrait: Vera
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Jall - Vinlund - Three Days Prior

The room was full of lit candles, but it somehow still seemed dim. At its center sat a wooden table, adorned with dancing candles of its own, which illuminated a map that lay spread open on the table's surface. Two individuals stood on either side of the table, both appearing to examine the map closely. One of them was a rather corpulent man, though he seemed to wear the weight well. He had a large mustache that not only seemed finely waxed and cared for, but it also must have been perfumed, for the person opposite of this man could smell the fragrance wafting over the stale air, boasting.

"Now, as you likely know by now, for you surely would not be standing here in front of me if you didn't know, we've been having some, how would you say, issues with some of our trade routes. More specifically, we've been receiving reports about attacks on the route that runs through Vindolanda here-" the man leaned forward over the map to examine it briefly before pointing to one of the numerous lines that decorated it, "and even moreso on the route that runs through the mountains a bit further to the East, here." His finger hovered over the map until it located another one of the many lines and he tapped it.

"I know I don't have to go into the details of just how important it is for these trade routes to be clear of such threat, and normally this would be a problem we could solve on our own," a blatant lie, which both parties present knew, "we're just spread a little thin right now."

The other person, a woman clad in armor and hair the color of straw, remained quiet and attentive as the man spoke, though her brow was furrowed. She held up a flat palm to the man as he finished speaking, as if to halt him from any further speaking.

"Captain, I did not think that I would need to clarify to you again that I'm a diplomat here and not some blade for hire. You must stop calling me here under false pretenses, especially when there are other Hounds you could just as easily employ in my stead."

The captain gaped at her for a moment before gathering himself and beginning to shake his head.

"The very reason I summoned you, Nadel, is because of your diplomacy. Maybe you can reason with these people, convince them to help guard the routes in exchange for coin." Another bold faced lie, another they both recognized.

"I'm sorry, captain, but no. I'm going to take my leave now, because your waste of my time has admittedly insulted me, but I will still do you a service and pass along your troubles to a Hound that's more suited to do something about it. Good day."




En Route to Vindolando - Vinlund - The Next Day

She was on horseback now, heading South due for The Core. She was on one of the more prominent trade routes that ran through Vinlund, the very same the captain had referenced the previous night. It went through Vindolando, a bordertown located just north of the foot of the mountains that separated the two provinces. The peak of these mountains was known as Mount Koan, a name she was told meant "great doubt". She examined the stark peak and supposed it was rather foreboding, so she could see how it could inspire a great amount of doubt in a person.

Neither her or her steed were any stranger to passage through the mountains, however, so she saw it fit to appropriate prepare for the task when she arrived in Vindolando.




Vindolando - Vinlund - Some Time Later

After arriving in the little bordertown, Nadel sought after what few provisions she required. When she had done so, she momentarily considered the possibility of staying overnight at the inn and setting off early in the morning, but figured it'd be wasteful of her to not travel as far as she could before actually growing tired. So her time in Vindolando came to a rather hasty end and she continued.




Camp - The Borders - That Night

Nadel found herself grateful for her armor's lack of heat dispersion that night, as the mountains grew cold once the sun declined below the horizon. She had stopped to make campground, in a place long familiar to this sort of treatment. Her movement as she flitted about to gather firewood and then subsequently worked to build it up kept her warm, so warm that she considered sleeping in it. As she ate a modest meal of cheese and bread, her consideration turned into a decision. She curled up near the fire and slept after.

She woke early and set out, surmising that she'd be back home by the next morning.




Hunter's Castle - Barracks - Present

Once Nadel arrived at Hunter's Castle, the first thing she did was return her horse to the stables, parting from her equestrian companion with a pat on its muzzle. From there it was straight to the barracks. She had decided to skip sleep that night to finish up the final leg of her journey, so its call tugged at the back of her mind as she trudged onward. The sun had only begun to rise, but Nadel knew of at least one certain individual that would be up at this hour, and he was the perfect candidate to pass the information she had received in Vinlund onto.

Considering the barracks were East, she angrily squinted against the sun's rays as they shone over the ramparts. The walk wasn't a long one compared to the journey she had just taken, and when she set down what could be considered the final path before coming upon the barracks, she was somewhat surprised to see two more people than she had expected. As she approached, all were recognized, but only one mattered to her at the moment.

Harran "Razor" Rager. A Senior Hound and a man Nadel thought more than fit enough to become a knight such as herself. She clenched a fist and held her arm against against her chest, her armor clanking appropriately as she did so. She held this in a brief salute to the others and then dropped it, immediately addressing Razor.

"Sir, may the morning greet you well. I bring word from Vinlund, some of our established trade routes suffer from bandit attack and they require assistance in the form of steel."