Eileen Wilkina the Scrapknight

[tinfoilhat]

I had a lot of fun playing Eileen. What started off as a pretty generic concept that was originally destined for the Aux took an interesting turn when I went with the Lower start for the hell of it. After a lot of deliberation I've decided to retire her, mostly because I've been out of creative steam for awhile now and was losing motivation to log in - that's a good sign to start the slate clean, despite my usual desire to see my characters ends come naturally.
Her backstory is a bit obscure for a lot of reasons, but the short story I submitted does a decent enough job explaining the gist of it.

[hide="Early days"]


Rahum â€" or Jack as Eileen named him, was one of her first teachers. Tough love in a world full of a shit planted the seeds of GRIT in her stomach.



Eileen hardly knew Donald, but he tried to save her life none the less. Died for it. An amazing scene.



Meeting Szul for the first time. A real love/hate relationship with the man over the months. Thought of him like a father in the end.



How naïve they both were


Meeting ghastly necromancers and making deals

[/hide]


[hide="​Who is the man in the mask who is the man in the mask who is the man in the mask who is the maninthemaskwhoisthemaninthema"]

Things went relatively smoothly for a time. Eileen would get on the sending system every now and then to rant about her tinfoil hat theories about the Tower. It caught up with her.





This scene in the Tower is probably the most memorable moment I had on Eileen. She’s hit with the hard truths about her efforts while her mind has been “eased up” by magic.


[/hide]


[hide="​Lower life and general adventure"]




Another interrogation…




Eileen did a lot of adventuring with the Golden Chalice, since she considered herself a knight and all. They mostly just humored her playing at being a real knight.


Terrorist meetings in the Cathedral. Eileen liked to play at being a public menace, but she craved the adoration of the people she supposedly saved so she’d very rarely if ever actually participate in the raids beyond just scouting and supplying the big boys.



Celia was one of Eileen’s only true friends, and even that didn’t last forever. Old times.

Fighting in the hells…





SCRAPPER WISDOM




This screenshot makes me laugh everytime. The enemy is TOO BIG


One of the last conversations between the two


She learns the hard truth eventually. Not even her best pals are beyond using her.

[/hide]


[hide="TRUE CHOSEN"]

Eileen eventually got infected with lycanthrophy while defending her crew. She considered it another trial from Ma, but deep down she loved the power and excuse to go wild. She didn’t feel quite so useless as the beast and wanted to keep the infection.



Last goodbyes to an old friend, now enemy. Also lol Yorrick

[/hide]

I have a lot more screenshots, but most are kinda spoilers for still active characters. Thanks for a wild ride everyone, and I apologize for not seeing it through to the end. I look forward to playing something with a bit of a shorter fuse this go around.

[tinfoilhat]

And the short story, if anyone was interested.

[hide="Seasons"]

   

Short Story: Seasons

   

Fall - Fear

Her voice was already hoarse, but the scrapper girl could not stop screaming as she ran for her life.

The rat things were closing in behind her, and she kept shouting to keep the others appraised of this fact. Ahead, the rest of her crew were sprinting ahead towards the waterworks. That’s where they’d lose them. That’s what the plan was, and the Chief wasn’t Chief for nothing. His plans were always sound - at least, the girl thought they probably were.

“Would someone shut that bitch up?” Someone called up ahead as they collectively rounded a narrow corner. It sounded like Duzel, the basher. “She’s gonna draw mo-”

“Everyone shut up and keep runnin’! Twitch, y’remember what I told you to do, right? Keep throwin’ those bottles behind us.. every ten counts now!” Chief’s voice cut Duzel off. She tried to focus on the plan. The plan. The plan…

She plucked the bottles from her satchel, one by one. The volatile grease within bubbled simply from the frantic running, and each crash of broken glass behind from her paced tossings renewed her hope that it was slowing the creatures down.

There. Everything was coming back together. The plan was sound, and it was all just a minor scare that they’d laugh about later when they shared drinks at the Crone. The girl tossed the last of her grease bombs behind her and urged her legs onwards, to the final stretch of their mad dash to safety.

The plan didn’t account for the sewer maintenance ‘tron that was rounding the corner. Nor the constructs rather quick reactions when it brought its massive arms across in a sweep that produced a sickening crunch when it connected with Duzel’s chest. The girl’s eyes widened, her world slowing as if to make it painstakingly clear that everything was soon going to hell. It was dumb luck that caused her to slip, falling underneath the animatrons second swing that would have easily knocked her head clear off. Her head instead connected with the hard, damp stonework that made up the sewer floor.

Voices were yelling at her, but her world was a blur as she struggled to rise. Vague shapes were moving about her, surrounding the metal hulk to give it a proper bashing. More shouts, more clashings of steel on steel, and then-

“ - up!”

“.. What?” The girl managed between gasps for breath.

“Get up, Twitch!” She realized Chief was yelling at her.

She blinked, her mind registering everything around her at once. The crew luring the ‘tron away as their Sawbones looked over Duzel, expression grim. Screeches from the rat men behind them. A single shake of the head from the Sawbones told Chief everything he needed to do to adjust the plan.

“We’re leaving him.”

The Sawbones simply nodded and jogged on ahead, calling to the others to follow suit. Duzel could only let out pained wheezes as he twitched on the floor, and Chief was quick to detach the coinpurse from Duzel’s belt. A single coin was pulled from the pouch before Chief set it on the dying man’s chest, turning to the girl again.

“.. Now or never, Twitch. We gotta go.”

She didn’t know what made her hesitate. Duzel always treated her and the other new kids like crap, but it just felt.. wrong to leave him there. Crew was crew.

But it was just that, a hesitation. Reality set in and her legs seemed to move on their own accord. A leap, and soon she crashed into the turning waters of their escape route. The turbulent waters drowned out the screams of dying men and feasting ratmen alike, and she was content to just let the currents carry her.

---

It was the first time the crew had lost someone since the girl signed on. She expected there to be toasts, tearful recollections of past deeds, anything really to remember Duzel the Basher, who died heroically on a pick job gone bad.

Most just drank and held their usual quiet conversations. The girl had her fill of firewater and more, but she found her hands would not stop shaking. It was all she could think about - only a couple inches lower, and she’d be just as dead as Duzel, just as forgotten…

“Heads up, Twitch.” Her drunken reflexes were barely enough to stop the small lobbed bag from hitting her in the face. The familiar weight and jingle of coin in hand relaxed her somewhat, but it seemed the Chief had more than her share to offer.

“S’pretty rough, I get it - hells, we all get it. But that’s a part of scrappin’. Duzel knew - you should’ve known what you were signing up for. Question is, you gonna be good for our next run?” The Chief was probably as close as you could get to being soft while being a decent Chief. Everyone seemed to think so, anyway. The girl nodded.

He must have seen the hesitation still written on her face, as his lips curled into a frown of consideration. A moment later a small vial was pulled from his pocket and placed on the bar counter, filled to the top with a glowing green substance and sealed tight with wax. The girl reached out to it, but the Chief stopped her hand. It was the first time she’d ever seen the Chief question his own call. Briefly, anyway.

“...This is for when things get really bad, yeah? When you need to stop.. thinkin’ to survive.”

“Stop thinking?..” Chief nodded grimly.

“Yeah. When y’need to get moving but you can’t ‘cause of all the shit floating around in your head.” She knew exactly what he was talking about. A nod, and it was in her hands.

She promised to be careful.

---

Winter - Green Dreams

The rush was unbelievable. Even after so many days, weeks, months.. maybe even years since her first taste of the blessed green. This is what she ached for every day she woke in her filthy tent. With her mind so clouded yet open to the truths of the world it was no surprise that the scrapper girl could accomplish anything. Her world was green and anything that stood in the way of her next drink, her next breath of life… well, it wasn’t long for this underworld.

She became a proper Basher over the many months that followed her first pick job. Chief was reluctant to keep her on the crew at first, especially the bloody mess that was her second pick job, but time and necessity has a way of wearing down even the most stubborn of scrappers. The blessed green was all she craved, and with that as an easy way of keeping crew costs down she was soon swimming in the stuff. As much as she desired - at least until the cravings grew again.

The chosen screeched as it sunk its claws into the girl’s back, but she was so deep in the green dream that it felt little more than a prodding on the small of her back. She gave a ferocious snarl as she wheeled on the surprised creature and tackled it to the ground, pounding the thick hide with her little “persuader” hammer. She was starting to see red, and that was an unfortunate thing. The dream was coming to an end, and soon she’d be seeing - and feeling everything that the green hid. If only she could get all the red out of this ratman, she thought as she continued her work frantically…

Her crew watched quietly as the chosen eventually stopped twitched, giving eachother concerned looks as the Basher wheezed for breath with wild, desperate eyes. Her hands fumbled at her belt for another vial, only to find that she was out. She began to search through her pack, unaware that she was painted head to toe in red.

The Sawbones nudged the Chief, shared a couple quiet words, and left.

Then the Fixer.

Then the new Wizza they just signed on.

Even the new and naive lads who were just getting their feet left quickly abandoned the girl in her frantic search.

She was alone. It took her nearly an hour to finally sort through her entire bag and notice the others had left, and something deep in her gut - beyond the craving, told her she should be upset. That she should run after them, beg for their mercy or scream bloody murder at their betrayal of crewmates.

...But she didn’t care. The green dream buried all the unnecessary, painful things on this new world, and she just KNEW she had the grit to procure her own now. She’d form her own crew, be a Chief of her own, find more of the green…

So she walked deeper into the Machine. Chief had a way of doing things in unknown territory. “A.G.L. Always go left.” She went right, knowing that Chief had to be hiding the secret of the green’s origin. Another crossroads, and she went right again. Through the doors of the accessways, into chambers that seemed long abandoned by any mortal footsteps for years. Her feet began to tire, the void in her belly began to grow, but she was sure she was getting close.

The room she stepped into was a relatively small chamber, its walls lined with ancient svirfneblin machinery and tubing. She shut the hatchway behind her and set to scavenging the room, finding the only real object of note sitting in the middle of the chamber - a corpse.

She was young, maybe around the same age as the Thirsty girl. Curled into a small ball in the center of the room, clutching a wound in her chest. Thirsty recognized the like now - a gaping hole that bored into the flesh cleanly. No ratman or tin can did this to the girl. She was probably beset by a less than kind scrapper in the ways behind them, or more likely her cut of the pickings without much room to argue.

Thirsty didn’t really care about that now, though. She took to riffling through the woman's remains in the vain of hope of finding the blessed green… all the useless junk was tossed aside. Baublium, svirfneblin rations, heaps of scrapmetal. USELESS. Her leg flung forward to give the corpse a kick to the chest in frustration, only to be surprised by a metallic clink against her boots.

A locket, she found. Her cravings temporarily replaced by a curiosity as she reached down to have a closer look. A simple brass thing with an even simpler engraving: “For beloved daughter - Eileen”. Thirsty gave a disgusted snort as she tugged the thing free and made for the hatchway, for here wasn’t anything here of value afterall. She grabbed hold of the handle and pulled.

Nothing happened.

A frustrated grunt before she pulled harder.

Nothing.

She felt something crawling deep in her stomach. Something deeper than the craving. The very thing she tried to bury with bottle after bottle of the green.

Fear.

---

Spring - Beloved Daughter

The pain. The thirst. It was unbearable.

Her clothing was soaked with a cold sweat as she writhed about on the floor. Everything was spinning, and it was all she could do not to vomit up the little bits of filthy water she could collect from the room’s leaky piping. Every inch of her body screamed in protest, unwilling to cede an inch to their master until she gave in and let them all dream the green dream again.

Days? Weeks? She couldn’t tell how long it had been since she found herself locked in the access ways. At first she thought she would simply sweat it out, deal with the cravings until the Machine’s corridors reshaped themselves and freed her. Wordless screeches of pain and self-pity came from her already strained throat as she curled up into a ball, certain the cravings would actually kill her.

---

By the time she went through most of the dead girl’s rations, Thirsty started talking to the corpse. She found it was too painful to rile herself up for another screaming match against the Gods, so she sought comfort in the only companion she had other than the craving. She wondered aloud if anyone actually noticed her missing from the Nest, if anyone would actually come looking for either of them. It was probably the first time Thirsty had earnestly cried since that first pick job, but she couldn’t tell whether it was for herself, the dead girl, or just the waking pains from the green dream.

---

It was some days after the food ran out, when she was certain she was about to die, that Thirsty heard Mother.

She couldn’t understand where the voice was coming from, or what the words even were. Through the cold sweat that blurred her vision, Thirsty struggled to focus. She had forgotten most of the painful days, forced it under pool after pool of the green until it vanished almost completely. But deep down, she knew that the voice was motherly.

Her lips curled into a sneer as she cursed the voice, the memories, everything. Her throat had given out in thirst and pain long ago, but it didn’t stop her from wheezing in disdain until the darkness overtook her again.

---

Thirsty moaned as she crawled about in her own filth. Consciousness was a fleeting thing now, and she was more thankful whenever the pain subsided enough for her to find fitful, fevered sleep. She squinted as a shape moved about the center of the room, huddled over the dead girl and seemed to cradle her. Thirsty struggled to listen for a voice as darkness overtook her again.

“Shhh…”

---

She woke to the usual hunger, now for both food and dreams. Too tired to be angry anymore. The thirst had become a dull ache now, and she idly wondered if not for the green dream, then what was her body living for anymore?

The corpse or the voice didn’t give an answer.

---

She dreamed of the Chief, or thought she did between the fits of actual nightmares. Cried when she found his face was like unmolded clay in her memories. She offered screams of frustration to the empty room, cursed his name for giving her something so precious - as painful as the green dream. Begged him and the crew to forgive her. Cursed him again.

It wasn’t the first time she cried herself to the cursed dreams, nor the last.

---

“ - up!”

“.. What?” The girl managed between gasps for breath.

“Get up, Twitch!”

“I can’t….”

The girl realized for the first time in what seemed like ages that her fever had finally broken. It felt as if something cold was pressed against her forehead, and finally something competed with the craving - relief. Her vision was still swimming, so she just closed her eyes and listened for the voice. For Mother.

The Machine clanged about her, as it always did. But now that she was actually listening, things didn’t seem so silent and lonely anymore.

“I’m so afraid….”

She felt her brow grow cool again, some of the strain in her neck and black easing somewhat. Though she still struggled to see through the aches and sweat, the girl knew the figure - her Mother, was hunched over her. Quiet throughout her ragings, her whimperings, and her confessions.

So she continued to talk, and talk, and talk. Until she swore she really would tear her throat apart. She never spoke so earnestly in her entire life, even what little she could remember before the green dream. The tears flowed through the brutal honesty of it all, and by the time she was done she felt she could sleep forever. Wanted to sleep forever, now that she felt so unburdened.

“It’s now or never, Eileen.” A voice said before the darkness came.

---

She opened her eyes.

Her belly ached, but it was a familiar, dull pain from a simple hunger. Though she was sprawled out in puddles of her own filth, the girl had never felt so clean in her entire life. She inhaled deeply, and nearly cried when she found her chest didn’t resist her every effort with pain and demands for.. something lost.

She still thirsted. She realize the thirst would always be there in some way, but she knew now that she wasn’t alone anymore. A Mother she had missed so much had carried her from this terrible dream, had helped her come to terms with the truth about herself. One breath at a time, one unsteady push from the ground and eventually the girl stood again. Clad in her filth ridden rags, she none the less felt purified as she made babysteps towards the hatchway. Something in her gut told her that it would open now, that she was WORTHY of finally stepping through. She grasped the handle, pulled, and an unfamiliar hallway lay before her. An unfamiliar freedom to follow her new destiny.

Eileen clutched the locket tight as she made her way through the access ways, vowing to never look back. Her thirst for something else entirely sparing her from the truth of a chamber absent a girl’s corpse.

[/hide]

[grumpy]

I loved this PC so much.....

[Lannister]

CAN'T PLUS ONE THE ABOVE STATEMENT FROM GRUMPY ENOUGH!! +1

[The Samophlange]

Eileen was a true treasure. I don't know about the rest of the Chalice, but Gilbert never thought she was anything other than a true knight of Lower.




Though, when I think of Eileen, only one thing ever seems to come to mind...

[TormTorqued]

NO GHOSTS!


I'll miss the ol'Scrap Knight. RIP in peace Eileen.

[Rookie]

What a babe

[SilkHidingSteel]

Whatever will EFU:R do without its true protagonist? I mean come on, look at this cover.



Eileen was another one of my favorite characters to meet and interact with, one of the few that honestly made me forget I'm roleplaying in a videogame sometimes. I look forward to seeing what you cook up next.

[Canzah]

A very well played and ambient character.

[MaimedGod]

Seriously an incredible PC.

[Spiffy Has]

I call dibs on her loot.

[Pigadig]

Didn't see much of her towards the end, but the sheer enjoyable insanity you brought to all interactions was very cool.

[Ironside]

Probably the best PC of efur right here.  Mad respect.

[Vlaid]

Absolutely one of my favorite PCs ever in EFU. I loved the interactions I had with her on Szul. A real gem of a character that was genuine and interesting in every situation.

[Pandip]

Incredibly charming to be around and altogether impressive PC.