Assassin Numero UnoFull Name: Atlas
Nicknames: The Nameless Assassin
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Physical Description: Atlas stand at 6’8” and 260 lbs with a stocky but lithe frame built up from years as a worker in a steel mill and those spent living in the post-apocalyptic world. He conceals his face with a gasmask, which is rarely ever taken off. Few people have seen his actual face but those who have say his looks are discrete and conservative with his hair completely shaven off. He wears old military issued BDUs (battle dress uniforms) and overcoat that have been aged rapidly by the decaying ruins of the cities he frequents.
Personality: Atlas is a faceless assassin if there ever was one. His peers would call him apathetic while some of is victims would say he’s cold hearted, no mercy to be had. Atlas prefers that no spoken word be said, only that actions tell their tale. He is cold, precise, methodical, direct, and a man with few words, words too few and far between for others’ liking.
Truth be told, Atlas does have emotions and feelings like any man would but his world had deadened him to what might move another man to tears. His feelings, emotions, and motivations, he believes, are his and his alone and no one should truly know him. This makes him deadly to be around. When his victims look at him, they don’t know whether he’s going to shoot them or share a meal with them.
His life after the loss of his wife has been spent alone and secluded. Up until the point in which he sold his services to The Dark Lord he had not said a word in nearly two years and even then it was only one word, yes.
Biography: Atlas led a simple life before the apocalypse. He was blue collar worker who loved what he did and counted his blessings where ever he could. He was married once, to his high school sweetheart, and had, in his mind, grand plans for what they were going to do with the rest of their lives. It would have come true too if the end of the world didn’t come so quickly.
Once the world was set into anarchy Atlas fled into the wilderness with his wife to etch out an existence as best he could. (As a child Atlas spent several years in the mountains with his Grandfather who lived off the land.) It again would have worked but again the forces behind the apocalypse continued to get in the way of Atlas’s dreams.
After returning home with his bundle of wood for that night’s fire, he returned to a grizzly scene. His wife had been mutilated by the shadow creatures that had attacked so many others. In a fit of blind rage he charged the creature, who was still working at his wife’s corpse, and entangled him self with it. Being no meek man after nearly fifteen years as a mill worker he held his ground the best he could as the two grappled on the ground, rolling in the spilt blood of his slain wife. The shadow monster eventually began to take the upper hand. In desperation he kicked the beast off, crawling quickly to the closest thing that might help him fend off the creature. His hand found purchase on the orange duffle bag that held his emergency supplies and just as he fumbled for the zipper he was dragged forcefully back by the malevolent fiend. Bag still in hand he hastily grabbed anything he could get his hand on. A signal flare was what he pulled out and nothing at all what he had hoped for. With out thought he struck the ignition cap against the top of the flare and thrust it at the creature. The shadow beast staggered back at the brilliant light, giving Atlas an opening to grab the being by the neck and drove the flare down the thing’s throat. The beast fell to the ground, smoke billowing from its mouth. He spent only ten minutes in the cabin he had built with his bare hands after the fight. Enough time to get his supplies readied, grab his assault rifle he had purchased shortly after the world went to hell in a hand basket, and quickly mourn the lose of his love before he set the wood structure ablaze.
Atlas changed after that. His life had been ruined not once but twice. It would have driven a lesser man insane, but instead it forced him to rethink his actions, his beliefs, and his ideals. He became introverted to the point of almost total isolation. Up until this point he had been known by a different name but soon discarded it as a relic of his past. He took up the name of Atlas so others could know what to call him, but to him his former identity had passed on to the next life with his wife and no name would ever be appropriate for him to call his own.
He soon found the woods to be too crowded with life and those fleeing from the ruins of the Old-World and the wrath of the Dark Lord. Atlas fled to the derelict cities of old. There he spent his years scavenging the old technology and selling his skills to who ever would pay him. It was during this time he found he had a knack for killing and that it paid big. Atlas quickly rose to prominence among his fellow “assassins” who knew little about him, save that the job always got done whether anyone knew it was him or not.
It was during this time as a hired gun that he soon drew attention from the previous Dark Lord. One of the last dire acts of the resistance, they contracted out several assassins to kill the Dark Lord. Among those was Atlas and among them none got closer to doing so than Atlas him self.
It was during a parade in one of the cities under the Dark Lord’s control that Atlas struck. Since the public display of power was being held during the day the Dark Lord had bolstered his guard with normal men, in which Atlas had signed up for. A timed explosion rocked the city soon after the parade had begun. While not a large explosion, it didn’t need to be since it was placed in a teetering skyscraper along the path of the parade. The force of the blast sent part of the building collapsing onto those attending the parade and the front of the procession, blocking the path of the parade. The crowd scattered quickly and in the chaos of the fleeing crowd and Dark Lord’s guards opening fire on those that got too close, Atlas made his move. Driving a knife into the guard next to him and taking the man’s pistol, Atlas walked over to the open top vehicle carrying the Dark Lord. It would have been as simple as raising his arm and pulling the trigger if it had not been for a man name Timothy Blackwater.
Blackwater had seen Atlas just in time and intercepted him before he could pull the trigger. Gun knocked from his hand, Atlas struck Blackwater in the side of the head, staggering him long enough for Atlas to try and reach the pistol. Hand grasping just around the butt of the gun, Atlas was sent careening into the ground with a forceful kick from Blackwater. Atlas grabbed Blackwater as he drew closer to land another strike and pulled him to the ground. The struggled soon reached an impasse until the rest of the Dark Lord’s guard had noticed the commotion going on behind them. Guns trained on him, Atlas believed he had reached his end but was truly surprised when he was given a stay of execution by Dark Lord him self long enough to ask him one thing.
Would you join me?Abilities: Enhanced Physical Abilities
Weapons:*
Sileneced 9mm Pistol: A simple pistol with a silenced attachment for close quarters stealth kills.
*
Old-World Rifle: An assault rifle from before the apocalypse that engulfed the world Atlas lives on. Unlike his other weapon, the Old-World Rifle is loud, fast, and perfect for longer range kills. Equipped with a scope, the weapon also works well in a sniping role when switched over to a single-shot fire rate.
Skills: Atlas’s days spent scurrying about the ruins of cities have left him with a deft ability to find his way up to places that may not be accessible to others. His time spent with his Grandfather as a child and those living with his wife in the woods also have given him a sharp set of survival skills honed through years of practice. He is adept at sharp shooting as well as hand-to-hand combat, though not as refined as some.
Other Equipment: *
9in Hunting Knife: Though could be used as a weapon, its primary purpose is as a tool and is used so accordingly
*
Road Flares: Old-World road flares used by construction crews. Good for starting fires as well as acting as a source of light.
*
Flare-gun: Used for signaling
*
One-Handed Climber’s Pick-Ax (2): Used to get hand-holds where there might not be one.