Post by Steinerman on Apr 4, 2010 18:47:01 GMT -5
Name: Donovan Winter
Alias: General Donovan Winter, head of Task Force Shadow Wolf.
Age: 46
Gender: Male
Nationality: Valtheran
Appearance: Donovan weighs in at one hundred ninety-five pounds, and stands at the rather impressive height of six feet, two inches. His body, while well-muscled, would never be called massive. A more apt description would be lean, wolfish. His skin is somewhat lighter than normal, though not extremely pale. His eyes are a cold blue, always shining with an inner drive to succeed, they are shadowed by the lightest of eyebrows (black in color). His face is harsh and angular, with a slight lopsidedness due to the lack of a left ear. His lips are thin and usually pressed together in a frown of concentration. His hair is cut extremely short in a buzz cut, and is the color of pitch.
His upper torso shows the wear and tear of a warrior, dozens of scars, both large and small, crisscross the flesh. The most notable of which is a long thin scar stretching from his right eye, down his neck and torso, ending just about his belly button. His arms are thin and wiry, his fingers worn and gnarled. His legs are extremely well-muscled, scarred like the rest of him. His feet are almost normal, barring the fact that his right foot is missing two digits (This gives him a slight limp).
Attire: Donovan wears clothing fit for his rank. It generally consists of matte-black steel-toed boots, with matching laces. Black socks, made of scratchy-yet-warm wool. His dress-slacks are the cool-grey color of the Valtheran Intelligence division, they are made of wool as well. The belt securing the slacks is black, and also secures a holster holding a standard-issue .45 caliber pistol and ammo clips.
His shirt is simple white cotton, with eight ornate onyx buttons, it is always tucked into the trousers. Over this, but before the jacket he wears a shoulder-holster, holding an identical pistol to that in the holster on his belt. Over that goes the military jacket, (cool-grey to match the slacks) the cuffs are elegantly folded back. The cufflinks and buttons of the jacket are a match in color and style to those of his shirt.
He wears no tie, nor any form of makeup to hide the scar upon his face, his only accessory is a walking stick to help with his limp. When the occasion calls for it, he also wears a standard issue Valtheran officer’s cap, (cool-grey in color, with a hardened black brim) and a black great-coat for harsh weather.
Personality: Donovan’s personality matches his looks, hard and unrelenting. There is no soft man behind the iron mask for Donovan, there is only the iron will to succeed in protecting the country he loves and has sacrificed so much for over his long career. His is a cold, but brilliant personality. And oddly enough, not without kindness of a sort. Demanding to those he commands, he is openly proud of those below him as well, and fights like a demon (on or off the battlefield, in or out of the office) to protect his men.
To call him a patriot would be an insult to the devotion he carries in his heart for the combined kingdoms of Valtheran. He is near-fanatical in his mind-set for the defense of his land, which is one of the many reasons he was placed in charge of the Joint Aube/Valtheran intelligence taskforce. He rarely speaks without cause, and his usual means of communication is in short, softly-spoken commands uttered clearly for his subordinates to understand them.
His fierce loyalty to Valtheran is matched only by his military genius, having spent years waging veritable war on outlaws and insurgents, he is a master of hit-and-run tactics. And in logistics he knows no match. While his harsh and eerily silent personality served him well on the battlefield, it can come off as slightly arrogant and unsettling to those above him, especially the ruling class. Who he views as mere stewards of the country he and his men protect. Those feelings however, are generally not shared by his colleagues in the military, who recognize that his calm quiet isn’t arrogance, merely truth or information he deems useful enough to pass along. As such, while spurned by many of Valtheran’s royal families, his council is listened to attentively by the other Valtheran Generals.
He has no known family, nor any noticeable vices save one. He has an odd love of spicy food, any and all kinds.
Possessions:
Walking stick: His walking stick is three feet long and made of iron. It is remarkably well-balanced, and is even equipped with a hilt, enabling it to serve as a weapon in dire need. The design is simple, unadorned save for a small red ruby set into the pommel.
Special Abilities:
Military Genius: Donovan is a master of clandestine warfare. Personally skilled in combat, he is also a brilliant commander of military operations and if faced should not be taken lightly.
History: Born to Loving parents Michelle and Anden Winter in the city of Iaedora. Donovan lived a quiet, studious life in his first years. Both of his parents were proud servants of Valtheran, it is from them that he draws his dedication to his nation. His mother was a highly-positioned doctor in one of the prominent hospitals of the city, while his father was a Colonel in the Valtheran military.
For his first years, Donovan (Already good with numbers, even at a young age) spent his time studying accounting at his mother’s hospital while his father was away at a far-off post. As his father was away, Donovan grew from a quiet child into a quiet teenager, happy to help his mother in her work, watching sadly as his parents grew apart due to his father’s long absences.
When he was fifteen, Donovan’s life came crashing down, literally. One of the Hospital’s emergency airship flights ran into difficulties while transporting Donovan’s mother to an accident. The pilot lost control of the airship and it went down in a fiery explosion. Shocked and horrified by the loss, Donovan spent a trying few weeks alone in his parents’ house, waiting for his father to return from a mission.
After a small, tear-filled funeral, Anden took his traumatized son back with him to his military base on the outskirts of Ginther’s Rift. Here, Donovan drowned his anguish over his mother’s death by learning the ways of war, excelling in every task his father set before him. Soon enough, he finished his basic training and accelerated officer training to become a full-fledged Valtheran officer.
Here on the outskirts of the Rift he served with his father, battling wily bandits and treacherous outlaws. While his father commanded the main body of men, Donovan was in charge of intelligence and special operations. He quickly became a master of using the local villagers of the Rift as spies and scouts, making use of their talents in hunting down the outlaws that plagued their kingdom.
Soon enough, however, it became apparent that while Donovan had dealt with his grief over his mother’s death by becoming a military officer and burying himself in work, his father had gone a different path. Though he hid it well, in the intervening years Anden had dealt with his grief by drowning it with alcohol. Soon even that was not enough, however, and his grief turned to depression, which eventually led to him ending the pain with a suicidal bullet to his brain.
Then in his mid-twenties, Donovan dealt with the loss of his second parent in a decade. Again, he dealt with the grief by burying himself in work and devoting himself to the thing his parents had dedicated their lives to preserving, Valtheran.
At that point in time, a trio of local villages thought that their life would be better if they forsook the protection of the Valtheran kingdoms and formed their own. Unfortunately for them, Donovan had different orders. He led a lightning-swift campaign to bring the three upstart villages back under control with minimal losses to both sides, and was successful in doing so.
Now having earned a name for himself in the Valtheran military, he was promoted to the rank of colonel and transferred to the intelligence community. Where he took charge of a special operations branch charged with keeping up-to-date on the Stamarian Empire’s doings. By the time he was forty years of age, Donovan had reached the rank of General and earned a frightening reputation as one of the best special forces commanders in Valtheran’s military.
He spent a year in the occupied territory of Stamaria in the guise of a mercenary, teaching the local rebels how to annoy and hamper the Stamarian Military. When he returned home to the united Kingdoms of Valtheran, he was positive that within his lifetime, Stamaria would attempt to conquer the only thing he had left to fight for.
By this time, Valtheran and Aube were already pledged to aid each other in the event of a Stamarian military incursion. Donovan took that pledge one step further, asking the rulers of both nations for their permission to start a joint intelligence task-force, which would search out weaknesses in the Holy Empire and be ready to exploit them when the inevitable war occurred. It took all of his considerable experience and even calling in a few favors from Valtheran generals, but Donovan received permission to start a joint Aube/Valtheran Intelligence task force, code-named Task-force Shadow Wolf.
(The Task-force name originated from a joking comment early in Donovan’s intelligence career when a high-ranking officer, upon seeing a clandestine operation directed by Donovan, likened him to a silent Wolf, waiting in the shadows for a chance to pounce. In defiance of the comment, Donovan took a shadow-wreathed wolf as his unit insignia.)
For this joint task-force Donovan hand-picked the best of Aube and Valtheran Military Intelligence. Scouts and Trackers from Ginther’s Rift, Valtheran Sniper teams and Aube ship captains known for their discretion. Under Donovan’s guidance, the Task-Force quickly set to work at infiltrating Stamarian holdings, sticking to the credo uttered by Donovan when he met each and every one of the task-force members.
“We all know that Aurinar won’t stop. We’ve seen the signs, he means to take everything in the world for his empire. But we’re not going to let him. You’re all here because you are the best at your jobs. We are shadows, and Aurinar thinks he has nothing to fear from the shadows of his enemies. But we shall teach him otherwise. When he comes for our free nations, we will turn war into hell for Stamaria, make them pay for the arrogance to think they can conquer us. Stick with me, stay true to your brothers and sisters in the army, and we’ll show the Holy Empire just how far it can fall.”
Thus Donovan’s life has progressed, from a soft-spoken young man who lost both his parents, to an ice-cold general with a single desire in his heart. To protect his nation. Even if it means all of Stamaria must burn to fulfill his desire.
Alias: General Donovan Winter, head of Task Force Shadow Wolf.
Age: 46
Gender: Male
Nationality: Valtheran
Appearance: Donovan weighs in at one hundred ninety-five pounds, and stands at the rather impressive height of six feet, two inches. His body, while well-muscled, would never be called massive. A more apt description would be lean, wolfish. His skin is somewhat lighter than normal, though not extremely pale. His eyes are a cold blue, always shining with an inner drive to succeed, they are shadowed by the lightest of eyebrows (black in color). His face is harsh and angular, with a slight lopsidedness due to the lack of a left ear. His lips are thin and usually pressed together in a frown of concentration. His hair is cut extremely short in a buzz cut, and is the color of pitch.
His upper torso shows the wear and tear of a warrior, dozens of scars, both large and small, crisscross the flesh. The most notable of which is a long thin scar stretching from his right eye, down his neck and torso, ending just about his belly button. His arms are thin and wiry, his fingers worn and gnarled. His legs are extremely well-muscled, scarred like the rest of him. His feet are almost normal, barring the fact that his right foot is missing two digits (This gives him a slight limp).
Attire: Donovan wears clothing fit for his rank. It generally consists of matte-black steel-toed boots, with matching laces. Black socks, made of scratchy-yet-warm wool. His dress-slacks are the cool-grey color of the Valtheran Intelligence division, they are made of wool as well. The belt securing the slacks is black, and also secures a holster holding a standard-issue .45 caliber pistol and ammo clips.
His shirt is simple white cotton, with eight ornate onyx buttons, it is always tucked into the trousers. Over this, but before the jacket he wears a shoulder-holster, holding an identical pistol to that in the holster on his belt. Over that goes the military jacket, (cool-grey to match the slacks) the cuffs are elegantly folded back. The cufflinks and buttons of the jacket are a match in color and style to those of his shirt.
He wears no tie, nor any form of makeup to hide the scar upon his face, his only accessory is a walking stick to help with his limp. When the occasion calls for it, he also wears a standard issue Valtheran officer’s cap, (cool-grey in color, with a hardened black brim) and a black great-coat for harsh weather.
Personality: Donovan’s personality matches his looks, hard and unrelenting. There is no soft man behind the iron mask for Donovan, there is only the iron will to succeed in protecting the country he loves and has sacrificed so much for over his long career. His is a cold, but brilliant personality. And oddly enough, not without kindness of a sort. Demanding to those he commands, he is openly proud of those below him as well, and fights like a demon (on or off the battlefield, in or out of the office) to protect his men.
To call him a patriot would be an insult to the devotion he carries in his heart for the combined kingdoms of Valtheran. He is near-fanatical in his mind-set for the defense of his land, which is one of the many reasons he was placed in charge of the Joint Aube/Valtheran intelligence taskforce. He rarely speaks without cause, and his usual means of communication is in short, softly-spoken commands uttered clearly for his subordinates to understand them.
His fierce loyalty to Valtheran is matched only by his military genius, having spent years waging veritable war on outlaws and insurgents, he is a master of hit-and-run tactics. And in logistics he knows no match. While his harsh and eerily silent personality served him well on the battlefield, it can come off as slightly arrogant and unsettling to those above him, especially the ruling class. Who he views as mere stewards of the country he and his men protect. Those feelings however, are generally not shared by his colleagues in the military, who recognize that his calm quiet isn’t arrogance, merely truth or information he deems useful enough to pass along. As such, while spurned by many of Valtheran’s royal families, his council is listened to attentively by the other Valtheran Generals.
He has no known family, nor any noticeable vices save one. He has an odd love of spicy food, any and all kinds.
Possessions:
Walking stick: His walking stick is three feet long and made of iron. It is remarkably well-balanced, and is even equipped with a hilt, enabling it to serve as a weapon in dire need. The design is simple, unadorned save for a small red ruby set into the pommel.
Special Abilities:
Military Genius: Donovan is a master of clandestine warfare. Personally skilled in combat, he is also a brilliant commander of military operations and if faced should not be taken lightly.
History: Born to Loving parents Michelle and Anden Winter in the city of Iaedora. Donovan lived a quiet, studious life in his first years. Both of his parents were proud servants of Valtheran, it is from them that he draws his dedication to his nation. His mother was a highly-positioned doctor in one of the prominent hospitals of the city, while his father was a Colonel in the Valtheran military.
For his first years, Donovan (Already good with numbers, even at a young age) spent his time studying accounting at his mother’s hospital while his father was away at a far-off post. As his father was away, Donovan grew from a quiet child into a quiet teenager, happy to help his mother in her work, watching sadly as his parents grew apart due to his father’s long absences.
When he was fifteen, Donovan’s life came crashing down, literally. One of the Hospital’s emergency airship flights ran into difficulties while transporting Donovan’s mother to an accident. The pilot lost control of the airship and it went down in a fiery explosion. Shocked and horrified by the loss, Donovan spent a trying few weeks alone in his parents’ house, waiting for his father to return from a mission.
After a small, tear-filled funeral, Anden took his traumatized son back with him to his military base on the outskirts of Ginther’s Rift. Here, Donovan drowned his anguish over his mother’s death by learning the ways of war, excelling in every task his father set before him. Soon enough, he finished his basic training and accelerated officer training to become a full-fledged Valtheran officer.
Here on the outskirts of the Rift he served with his father, battling wily bandits and treacherous outlaws. While his father commanded the main body of men, Donovan was in charge of intelligence and special operations. He quickly became a master of using the local villagers of the Rift as spies and scouts, making use of their talents in hunting down the outlaws that plagued their kingdom.
Soon enough, however, it became apparent that while Donovan had dealt with his grief over his mother’s death by becoming a military officer and burying himself in work, his father had gone a different path. Though he hid it well, in the intervening years Anden had dealt with his grief by drowning it with alcohol. Soon even that was not enough, however, and his grief turned to depression, which eventually led to him ending the pain with a suicidal bullet to his brain.
Then in his mid-twenties, Donovan dealt with the loss of his second parent in a decade. Again, he dealt with the grief by burying himself in work and devoting himself to the thing his parents had dedicated their lives to preserving, Valtheran.
At that point in time, a trio of local villages thought that their life would be better if they forsook the protection of the Valtheran kingdoms and formed their own. Unfortunately for them, Donovan had different orders. He led a lightning-swift campaign to bring the three upstart villages back under control with minimal losses to both sides, and was successful in doing so.
Now having earned a name for himself in the Valtheran military, he was promoted to the rank of colonel and transferred to the intelligence community. Where he took charge of a special operations branch charged with keeping up-to-date on the Stamarian Empire’s doings. By the time he was forty years of age, Donovan had reached the rank of General and earned a frightening reputation as one of the best special forces commanders in Valtheran’s military.
He spent a year in the occupied territory of Stamaria in the guise of a mercenary, teaching the local rebels how to annoy and hamper the Stamarian Military. When he returned home to the united Kingdoms of Valtheran, he was positive that within his lifetime, Stamaria would attempt to conquer the only thing he had left to fight for.
By this time, Valtheran and Aube were already pledged to aid each other in the event of a Stamarian military incursion. Donovan took that pledge one step further, asking the rulers of both nations for their permission to start a joint intelligence task-force, which would search out weaknesses in the Holy Empire and be ready to exploit them when the inevitable war occurred. It took all of his considerable experience and even calling in a few favors from Valtheran generals, but Donovan received permission to start a joint Aube/Valtheran Intelligence task force, code-named Task-force Shadow Wolf.
(The Task-force name originated from a joking comment early in Donovan’s intelligence career when a high-ranking officer, upon seeing a clandestine operation directed by Donovan, likened him to a silent Wolf, waiting in the shadows for a chance to pounce. In defiance of the comment, Donovan took a shadow-wreathed wolf as his unit insignia.)
For this joint task-force Donovan hand-picked the best of Aube and Valtheran Military Intelligence. Scouts and Trackers from Ginther’s Rift, Valtheran Sniper teams and Aube ship captains known for their discretion. Under Donovan’s guidance, the Task-Force quickly set to work at infiltrating Stamarian holdings, sticking to the credo uttered by Donovan when he met each and every one of the task-force members.
“We all know that Aurinar won’t stop. We’ve seen the signs, he means to take everything in the world for his empire. But we’re not going to let him. You’re all here because you are the best at your jobs. We are shadows, and Aurinar thinks he has nothing to fear from the shadows of his enemies. But we shall teach him otherwise. When he comes for our free nations, we will turn war into hell for Stamaria, make them pay for the arrogance to think they can conquer us. Stick with me, stay true to your brothers and sisters in the army, and we’ll show the Holy Empire just how far it can fall.”
Thus Donovan’s life has progressed, from a soft-spoken young man who lost both his parents, to an ice-cold general with a single desire in his heart. To protect his nation. Even if it means all of Stamaria must burn to fulfill his desire.