User:Leon Vulcan

	Roleplaying Notice
	Notice: This User or Group enjoys the RPG aspect of MMORPGs, the category of games that Urban Dead falls into. As such, there is probably quite a bit of roleplaying and/or creative writing on this page and in said User/Group's in-game actions. In other words, if you think the difference between IC and OOC is "One has an 'I' and the other has two 'O's," buzz off.

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Description

-Height: 6"

-Weight: 173 lbs

-Physical Appearance: Dark hair, grey eyes, tan, good build.

Clothing

-Top: Grey Level 5 PCU Jacket (cold weather insulation layer inserted), moisture-wicking t-shirt

-Bottom: Grey Level 5 PCU Trousers (cold weather insulation layer inserted)

-Footwear: Brown hiking boots

Gear

-Vest: Coyote Brown Weesatch Plate Carrier w/ twelve pistol clip pouches, a small utility pouch, and a knife sheath (OKC-3S combat knife) on the front. On the back is a radio pouch (radio wired to his headset), and a small assault pack carrying his medical supplies, tools, and food.

-Belt: Black Web belt with a coyote brown drop leg holster (M1911 MEU) attached on the right side

-Other: Coyote brown Bijan knee pads, and a black rapelling harness

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Bio

Leon Vulcan is haunted by a history he cannot forget. He had no family, and every bit of his personal life was erased or buried under government classifications when he was assigned to a covert military program. He became a member of a black ops unit operating in clandestine operations around the world, where official national involvement could not be admitted. The few friends he had was his unit, and they became his family. But one mission led to the team being compromised. Facing ridiculous odds, the team requested assistance and exfiltration from the zone of operations. After hours of combat, evasion, and taking casualties, no help arrived. Command did not attempt to establish contact with the team. They were left to die, in order to hide the blood on the hands of the country who sent them. Despite everything the unit had done, they were deemed expendable, and nothing was done to save them from their inevitable fates.

Fueled by a mixture of fury and a mad hope of survival, they fought towards the border of the nearest friendly country. Out of the entire unit, only two men survived or avoided capture, but one of them had injuries so serious that he died minutes after reaching safety. The other, dazed and exhausted from combat fatigue, was brought to the nearest U.S. base, where his mission command happened to be operating from. After a day of coming back to a coherent state, Lance Corporal Leon Vulcan was detained after breaking the nose and several ribs of the officer who was in charge of the mission command. Upon learning that some members of the unit survived but were captured, Vulcan demanded a rescue op be mounted immediately. His request was denied.

The final official acknowledgement of the existence of Lance Corporal Leon T. Vulcan was that he had escaped from his cell, stole a vehicle, went to rescue his teammates, and never came back. Really, the vehicle's controls were disabled, he was detained again, and this time it could be made sure of that no trace of U.S. involvement in the country would exist. He was officially listed as Killed In Action, and there were two ways they could get rid of him. Execution, or send him to Malton. They chose the latter.

Appearing tired yet wary at the same time, he keeps to himself. His build and appearance suggest association with the military, but his uniform does not have any unit or country markings. His dark hair is short and he appears to have been in a very sunny environment not too long ago. His steel grey eyes appear intelligent, they meet yours for a moment, but they reveal nothing to you. Quiet, he continues his task. Recalling his gaze, you realize that there was one thing you could tell from his eyes. They are hiding a great deal.