Drokhan

Drokhan

Face Adept
("There are no problems, only solutions." - John Lennon)
Discord	@Merga#1678
Reddit	[1]
Metatype	(Troll)
Street Cred	0
Notoriety	-1
Public Awareness	0
CDP	4
D.O.B.	February 7, 2039
43	46
Folder	[2]
Priority	Metatype - A Attributes - C Magic/Resonance - D Skills - B Resources - E

Character Information

Piercing blue eyes like the sea after a storm, his black hair, freshly cut with a stylish side-part and a thick, well-groomed beard peppered with salt, his ears stretched with smooth, ebony wooden plugs, angular square jaw and high cheekbones, his brow crowned with polished oxen shaped horns that curl back and are poised over his broad, shapely shoulders. His voice is deep and regal, his cadence while speaking is never rushed and smooth as butter. There is just something about Drokhan that oozes calm, confidence and charisma. When he speaks, you just want to listen, and when he stops, you don't know how to feel in the void.

When heading to a meet, he wears a perfectly tailored light charcoal grey suit, white silk shirt, and a blue cashmere tie matching his eyes, The suit is adorned by an ankle length, fine leather, black overcoat that has been oiled to make it impenetrable to Seattle's habitual downpours. His black and white dress shoes have been customized with a brushed bronze toe and cushioned soles to be as stylish as they are practical for any situation be it cocktail party or scale a chain-link fence.

Goals

It was a cold and windy February 7th, 2039 in Seattle. A very pregnant teenage troll girl by the name of Abby Rod was desparately trying to find shelter in the Redmond Barrens during the frieghtening events of what would later be known as the Night of Rage. Her boyfriend barely helped her escape as he was forcefully taken to a detention camp never to be heard from again. Under immense stress, her water broke prematurely. She went to the only person she could trust, Big Momma, a tough yet kind Ork street doc who moonlighted as a midwife, and offered the last few hundred nuyen she had to her name (which Big Momma refused of course). During the final stages of painful labour, the situation took a turn for the worse. The baby's heartrate dropped suddenly and was forced to perform an emergency c-section. To Big Mamma's surprise, the baby troll she pulled out of Abby was the smallest she had ever seen. Smeared in Abby's blood, the baby sucked in it's first breath and surprisingly did not cry out strangely just locked his gaze on Big Mamma's. The baby troll seemed to be studying her calmy with his deep, capitvating blue eyes. Big Mamma cut the umbilical cord and craddled the baby in Abby's shaking arms. As soon as she too stared at the serene baby, she suddeny felt at peace. Abby died that night, and the last thing she whispered to Big Mamma was, "Please call him, Hank, after my father ...".

And so Hank came to be one of the many orphaned trolls surviving on the streets in the barrens. He only let Big Momma call him that, though. On the streets he went by Drokhan, an anagram of his full name that he thought was rather clever. As it turns out, he was smaller and less physcially imposing than the others like him, Hank quickly learned the benefits of a quick wit, a flattering compliment, a well-placed joke and a cool head in a hot situation. He seemed to have an exceptional knack for reversing dangerous situations in his favour with his social adeptness. Unbeknowndst to him, Hank had awakened sometime during his childhood. The mana flowed through him very subtley to the point that he had no idea it was really there. His charming personality, his heightened reflexes and even his ability to see the emotions of others almost as if they were a colour, all these things were enhanced through magic but remained hidden in the subconscious part of his mind waiting to be awakened fully. Let's skip some details that are a good story for another day. Wanting to get the hell out of the barrens, Hank secured a fake SIN and landed a job as a janitor for a big AA Corp in downtown Seattle at 17 years old. He became head of maintenance by 22. The first troll in company history to get a promotion to management of any type. At this time, his uncanny skill of handily managing a bunch prejediced human subordinates catches the attention of someone in upper management. He is taken under the wing of the Head of Special Projects Manager, Marcus E. Matthews who is in charge of covert operations for the corp. Matthews' knew Hank would be an incredible asset (aka Mr. Johnson) and trained him. By 25, Hank had unofficially become Matthews' right hand man and completed many covert mission as a highly competant Mr. Johnson. Big surprise, that the company had never had a better Johnson to deal with their usual fixer, get the best shadowrunners for the least pay. In 15 years, Hank had overseen over 30 successful shadowruns, all off the books. As far as the corp was concerned he was just head of maintenance. Only Matthews knew who he really was and what he really did.

For Hank's 40th birthday, Matthews' who had become a father figure, invited Hank to a fine restaurant to inform him that he is choosing him as his successor to manage Special Projects. That night, while sleeplessly staring at the ceiling from his bed excited at the prospect of his career advancement, Hank's commlink lights up. It's a encrypted message from Matthews. "CODE BLACK. BURN SIN. GO DARK. TRUST OZMA." The commlink beeps, and his private offshore company account is transferred 25K nuyen. Code black. It had finally happened. His cover was blown, he and the department were to be dismantled discreetly by the corp as if he had never existed. Matthews' had given him a heads up that had probably saved his life and meaning his own was endangered. Hank knew there was probably a team of shadowrunners on it's way to his appartment already. He dressed up quickly, grabbed his briefcase and got the hell out of there. Let's just say, a troll in a well-worn janitor's uniform pushing a maintenance cart walked nonchalantly into the parking garage while a team of shadowrunners ransacked his apartment minutes later. Once in the clear, blocks away, Hank called up his best friend, Juan (see contacts) for a lift. After a few rings, he picks up.

"You ok, hermano? It's 3 in the morning!" "Juanito, the drek has hit the fan. Bring baby around. I need a quiet ride to Ozma's." "Stay frosty, 'mano. I'll be right there."

10 minutes later, an ordinary black town car picked him up and drove off into the night ...

Run History

Name	GM	Metaplot	Date of Run
Halcyon Days	Aurora		8 April 2082
Accountants Bane	Blood Librarian		23 March 2082

Affiliations

Contacts

Contact	Connection	Loyalty	Archetype	Profession	Aspects	Chips

In Character Information

Matrix Search Table

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3
6

Shadow Community Table

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5