Status:-
Primary Class: Archer
Potential Classes: Caster
True Name: Winifred Owen
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Parameters:-
Strength: D
Endurance: A+
Agility: D
Prana: B+
Luck: D+
Noble Phantasm: A
Class Skills:-
Independent Action - B+
"There is no spirit that remains unbroken by war. Instead, they wander, as Owen now wanders. Alone, with only a pistol in her hand, she walks and walks, seeking the other side of a bridge in France, and finding none."
History:-
Move her into the sun—
Gently its touch awoke her once,
At home, whispering of fields unsown.
Always it woke her, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse her now
The kind old sun will know.
Think how it wakes the seeds—
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides
Full-nerved,—still warm,—too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
—O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
-- "Futility", Wilfred Owen (adapted for genderbend)
Description:-
Winifred Owen is an almost archetypal Shropshire lass, tall and hearty, but of a more bookish bent than her rural upbringing might imply - though her education never progressed to university level, due to the limits of her family's ability to stump up the cash
sans first-class scholarship. Her dark hair is worn short and close, militarily so, and she tries to hold herself with the commanding mien that befits an officer of the British Army, whose khaki field uniform she wears and whose service revolver she forces herself not to clutch until her knuckles turn white. This works up until you look into those deep, dark, haunted eyes of hers; she has a true thousand-yard stare, along with barely-treated neurasthenia and a battered Military Cross pinned to her chest; the one she never earned in her male life. Her Phantasms are everything cruel and merciless about the First World War, and she would not have it any other way. The men must have a voice. The men must be remembered. It's up to her.
Alone.
Personal Skills:-
Battle Continuation: A
"What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns."
-- "Anthem for Doomed Youth", Wilfred Owen
This is Winifred's key skill, allowing her to not so much push through the pain barrier as bludgeon it with the butt of her revolver until the splinters are cowering in the far corner of the room. She will walk, and continue to walk, a whistle sounding in her ears despite what the enemy may do.
Eye For Art: B
"To a Certain Poetess."
-- Dedication of "Dulce et Decorum est" referring to Jessie Pope, Wilfred Owen
This is more specific than the standard Eye For Art skill, in that it only really applies to poetry. However, she has Grand Admiral Thrawn levels of ability to analyse that particular form, and can divine the author's motives with no small amount of finesse. The other stuff? Well, different officers in the Artists' Rifles were more suited to it.
Protection From Arrows: B+
"But poor old Jim, 'e's livin' an' 'e's not;
'E reckoned 'e'd five chances, an' 'e's 'ad;
'E's wounded, killed, and pris'ner, all the lot—
The ruddy lot all rolled in one. Jim's mad."
-- "The Chances", Wilfred Owen
Winifred's well-suited to area of effect attacks - the heavier the fire coming her way, the less damage she takes from hits and the more likely she is to evade them. Additionally, Luck checks made to dodge projectile attacks of any kind gain an additional boost from her Prana stat. She has to live, you see. She has to, if she's ever to go home and never live to see another war.
Protection From Wind: A+
"Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!–An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;"
-- "Dulce et Decorum est", Wilfred Owen
How could she pass up protection from the vilest death imaginable? Gas attacks do not affect her; wind may cut and sandstorms may hurt, but the effects are deadened and barely impede her. However, those nearby must take a Luck check to avoid the effects of the gas, sandstorm, hurricane or whatever being
increased for them.
Territory Creation: C
"Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an Angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son. . . ."
-- "Parable of the Old Men and the Young", Wilfred Owen
Winifred can
potentially access this skill. Since it turns her surroundings into the French village of Joncourt, around the time of her death... she doesn't tend to try too hard.
Weapon:-
The Mark VI .455 Webley Self-Extracting revolver is a great club of a gun, firing a potent cartridge accurately and without the wrist-shattering recoil of most heavy pistols. Unlike most, however, hers comes with a few accessories. She has a dedicated speedloader of the Watson design, a detachable stock allowing it to be used as a carbine, and even a fold-out bayonet attachment. More than that, it is
her revolver. She will load and fire, in the face of whatever may be thrown at her, and she will do her duty as she did before. It is a memory of those who died before her, and all who died after in the horror of the mud and wire.
Noble Phantasms:-
Strange Meeting
Song of the Undone Years
Rank: A
Type: Anti-Unit... sort of
Range: 1-10
Targets: 1
Description:-
The target gains an exact copy of themselves that proceeds to attack them, focusing on them above all else. The clone's stats are one rank lower than the originals, but any and all buffs the original was under the effects of are copied to the clone - and the buffs will not fade over time. Additionally, the clone does bonus damage for each unit the target has killed during the battle. It is extremely mana-intensive and Winifred can only keep one clone up at a time; in addition, the clone will laser-focus on killing the original with whatever means it has at its disposal. The clone will be dispelled upon the death or serious incapacitation of the original, but can also be killed.
--
I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now...
-- "Strange Meeting", Wilfred Owen
Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bitter as the Cud of Vile, Incurable Sores
Rank: A+
Type: Anti-Army
Range: 1-500
Targets: Infinite
Description:-
Gas. Every gas. Chlorine, phosgene, mustard gas, sarin, and all the foul things that stain the air, all boil from the walking, waking terror of a wounded mind, burning through the lungs and hearts and weakened bodies. Protection from Wind offers some defence, but it almost certainly will not be enough. The gases take whom they may, and care not for whose side Owen is on. Does no direct damage, but applies a tiny DoT effect that stacks with every breath, that deals additional damage to people already wounded.
--
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
-- "Dulce Et Decorum Est", Wilfred Owen
Originally Posted by You
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