(Archive) Steve Stevenson

*"I've seen too much. Too... Too much." - Steve Stevenson*

## History

   Steve "The Steve" Stevenson, bearer of possibly the world's worst name, has a decidedly unfunny history. Born in the distant village of Ocearia, Steve inherited his namesake from his father, Steve Senior. However, Steve Senior left the family while Steve Junior was still very young. This left Steve's mother quite distraught, but she never did tell Steve why his father just up and left.

Steve's village was also home to a band of very powerful warriors. These warriors were a separate caste from the rest of the village's peasants. These people were able to tackle the terrifying monsters that called the surrounding woods their home. For years, these monsters had threatened everyone's lives and livelihoods, and it was only through the strength and determination of these monster hunters that the village managed to survive.

These men and women were called the Slayers, and it was Steve's ambition to join their ranks. He believed that by joining them, not only could he make a name for himself, he could eventually find his father on one of the many journeys that the Slayers took outside of the town. Being a Slayer meant being a town bigshot, and he coveted that sort of fame.

For years, Steve trained with a broken down rifle that he managed to cobble together on his own time. Born with an unusually quick mind, he found his skills adaptable to both gun and magic, and learned to blend the power of spells with the devastating damage of a firearm. This training and effort led to him joining the Slayers as one of their own, but Steve soon learned that he should have known better than to be jealous of the Slayers' position in society.

The job was harrowing and ruthlessly dangerous. Each time he left the village, he tended to see another member of the Slayers fall to a devastating assault from a monster. He naturally seemed to attract attention from these monsters as well, as they would often aim for him directly. Maybe they just knew firearms were dangerous? He wasn't sure, but he *was* sure that the focus on him was making him crack mentally.

He survived by the skin of his teeth for so long that he almost began to think he was invincible. A belief that was ill-founded, considering he had nearly been strangled to death once and almost eaten by a gargantuan tentacle beast another time. In all of his adventures, however, he had never seen hide nor hair of his father. It seemed the man had disappeared off the face of the planet, and he would never get any answers.

Frustrated, but determined to still keep the people safe no matter the cost to himself, Steve settled into the grim life of a typical Slayer. This, however, came to a halt on the day of his last journey. He and his fellow Slayers were tasked with handling the uprising of a local druid, who it seemed had gone mad in his efforts to protect the forest. He had even managed to raise undead in his efforts to protect the land.

Had Steve managed to actually track the druid down, he would have had several words about hypocrisy, but that never came to pass. These undead, too, unerringly aimed for Steve, veering around his compatriots and gunning straight for him! He shot down as many as he could, but every time they fell, they simply rose back up again. He could not escape them in time, and they fell upon him en mass, felling him with scything claws and gnashing teeth.

He fell into darkness for a time, only awaking when ocean spray threatened to begin drowning him. He had awoken in the waters of Fiend's Reach, bruised, battered, and bloody. Somehow his wounds had not been fatal, though they were close. He staggered to shore and began his recuperation in a world that seemed particularly in need of his skills.

Even if his mind was still somewhat cracked, Steve still felt the grim determination of the Slayers burning within him. He would not turn his back on his life's duty, even in this place. No matter the cost to himself, he could not find rest just yet.

## Appearance

Steve typically dresses in an old coat, with a pockmarked vest, worn breeches, and rough leather boots to match. His outfit almost looks like a uniform of some sort, and around his neck is a necklace that proudly bears the symbol of the slayers - An upside down troll's skull with a dagger plunged through the jaw bone. Across his chest are arrayed a series of bandoliers to hold his ammunition and various other supplies he might need, all of which look thoroughly worn from use in battle.

His face has bags under the eyes and usually seems quite drawn. There's a nervous twitch in his movements and his hands can't seem to steady themselves except when firing a musket. Sometimes his eyes seem to be staring at an unseen object from thousands of yards away, but they tend to snap back after a few moments.

## Personality

Steve is a nervous, sometimes distraught, man. Though he is determined to do right in this world, he seems to have trouble believing in himself when he makes a decision. Often he waffles between ideas, unsure of what would lead to the best outcome. He also tends to have problems when under pressure, frequently choking when all eyes are upon him. Though he seems barely able to hold it together when the chips are down, perhaps it is a sign of true inner fortitude that he struggles through it anyway and perseveres in the face of adversity.

## Friends

Steve used to have friends among the Slayers, somewhat. But none of them seemed to have washed up, for better or for worse.

## Enemies

Steve hates the living undead. A reasonable reaction, given the circumstances of his arrival.

## Aspirations

Steve aspires to find peace in some way, something to soothe his rattled mind. Not even retiring could return him to normal now, and his skills are still needed on the field of battle anyway. He hopes that one day, maybe, with enough bloodshed and lives saved, providence may smile upon him and grant him relief from the troubles plaguing his mind.