RC 212
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO!
[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Bryce Bantam"]
On Board the Foundation....
It'd been a while. A very long while. After a brief stint as a courrier, and discovering her brother Jack had caused an uproar in the core, Ellie had fled to the frontiers, past even Exocron. Much of her time there had spent in seclusion, hunting furs, and trading with the local merchants. Now she was back, having decided it was time to come and join the folks who were quickly spreading into uncharted territories.
There were two names she'd heard often, one whom had some former relationship with her Mother and Brother. Jorrus. Bantam.
The Crop Dusters ramp hissed open, and she stepped down. This time looking far different than two years ago. She was twenty now, much taller and clad in plain brown hooded tunic, along with leather trousers. From her back two Sawed off shotguns formed an x, and at her hips a Tommahawk and combat knife mirrored each other.
Her brown eyes swept the landing pad from beneath the brown warpaint striped across her face horizontally.
This was it. Foundation Station
It was the begging of something new...
On Board the Foundation....
It'd been a while. A very long while. After a brief stint as a courrier, and discovering her brother Jack had caused an uproar in the core, Ellie had fled to the frontiers, past even Exocron. Much of her time there had spent in seclusion, hunting furs, and trading with the local merchants. Now she was back, having decided it was time to come and join the folks who were quickly spreading into uncharted territories.
There were two names she'd heard often, one whom had some former relationship with her Mother and Brother. Jorrus. Bantam.
The Crop Dusters ramp hissed open, and she stepped down. This time looking far different than two years ago. She was twenty now, much taller and clad in plain brown hooded tunic, along with leather trousers. From her back two Sawed off shotguns formed an x, and at her hips a Tommahawk and combat knife mirrored each other.
Her brown eyes swept the landing pad from beneath the brown warpaint striped across her face horizontally.
This was it. Foundation Station
It was the begging of something new...
