Dr. Damian Hammond

Former Sanctioned Psyker of the Imperial Guard, now relishing in service to house Aegis aboard the Agean

Description:

Attributes:
WS:26
BS:35
S:25
T:30
AG:38
Int:53
Per:37
WP:60
Fel:23

Skills:
Awareness +47
Cipher (House Aegis)
Common Lore (Imperium, Imperial Creed) +53
Dodge +48
Forbidden Lore (Psykers +68, Warp +58, Mutants +48, Xenos +48, Heresy +48)
Invocation +73
Literacy
Logic +53
Medicae +93
Psyniscience +47
Scholastic Lore (Legend, Archaic) +53
Scrutiny +37
Speak Language (Low/High Gothic)

Talents:
Sound Constitution x3
Master Chirogen
Discipline Focus (Telekinesis)
Minor Power x5
Psychic Power x5
Psy Rating x3
Las Pistol/Primitive melee Weapon Training
Favored by the Warp

Total Wounds: 13
Insanity: 3
Fate: 2

Psychic Disciplines:
Telekinesis, Telepathy

Psychic Techniques T Sustain Range Action Effect
Precision Telekinesis 23 Y 10M 1/2 Finesse/Small-scale Telekinesis
Force Barrage 21 N 60M Full x6 Bolts 1d10+1 dmg each
Telekinesis 11 Y 10M 1/2 Lift/move object up to 55 Kilograms
Telepathy 11 Y 6KM Free Communicate via thoughts
Dominate 24 Y 8M 1/2 Oposed WP check take over target
Healer 7 Y 10M Full Heals 1d5 + Removes Fatigue
Resist Possession 6 N N/A Reaction Re-roll Possession test
Spasm 7 N 50M 1/2 Shoots closest person + Falls Prone
Fearful Aura 7 Y N/A Full Fear Rating 2
Sense Presence 7 Y 50M 1/2 Radar for Living beings

Equipment:
Lucius Pattern Hell-pistol
Damage: 1d10+4 Type: Energy Class: Las Range: 35M ROF: S/2/- Pen: 7 Reload: 2 Full

Mono Sword
Damage: 1d10+1 Type: Rending Class: Melee Pen: 2

Psy-Focus, Charm, Void Suit, Medikit, Microbead, Guard Flak Armor (4 armor all locations)

Bio:

Born on a relatively normal and peaceful Imperial world, Damian Hammond trained in the Chirogen arts. He rapidly mastered the techniques of his craft and proved his talent skillfully. He was young, successful, and steadily treading down the path to wealth and an easy life of comfort that countless souls across the Imperium only dream off… until the black ships arrived. Like always the dark foreboding ships silently claimed their quarries no questions asked, and no answers given. When they came for Damian Hammond he wanted to protest, there must have been some mistake, he was no Psyker! Yet one look upon the Inquisitor overseeing the apprehending individuals… and his thoughts of speaking out died. The man’s face had an edge to it unlike any Damian had ever seen. He wore a bored expression over his surveying focus, and while he stood there idly, there was no mistaking the erect posture of one ready to spring. A fellow Psyker who was resisting starting spasming, the air smelled like ozone and various surfaces suddenly became sticky. The Inquisitor without blinking or even truly giving his full attention to the offending man, suddenly had a bolt pistol in his hand and shot the man through the head without even looking at him. And without seeing him sheath it, the weapon was holstered as if it had never been drawn, and the Inquisitor looked as though he had never moved. No…the Inquisition does not make mistakes… and if they ever did… who would dare to correct them?! He was herded with the other newly manifested Psykers into specially constructed cells/pens runes and glyphs of various kinds coated the walls, and there was a holy Aquila on damn near everything in sight. As the Black Ships departed for Holy Terra Damian looked back in regret to the life that he almost had, that he barely knew and shuddered at what his future had in store for him.

After years of extensive training, torture, and testing Damian was considered safe for Imperial service. But the years had taken their toll on the man, his hair had lost all color becoming as white as snow, dark bags were always underneath his eyes, a nervous twitch accompanied his every expression. Night Terrors haunted his dreams ever night, he tried to assure himself that what he saw was not real, the voices were not talking to him, the madness and horror only his imagination… but he never really believed it. Especially when one night after a particularly terrifying ordeal in his sleep he was slashed by a monstrous demon… and awoke to find his sheets stained in blood gushing from a now injured arm. Damian tried everything he could to avoid sleeping as much as possible from then on. He was assigned to an Imperial Guard battalion, serving in the command squad of an Imperial Guard Colonel. He did so well, but he hated the life. it was not the never ending conflicts, it was not the never ending moving around, it was not the military life, what it boiled down to was that ultimately he was not a soldier, he was a weapon. He was replaceable, he was received no honor, no thanks, no appreciation, only the distrust and disgust of the real soldiers in his unit. He was nothing more than a vile and unstable piece of equipment and was treated as such. He served this way for 10 years, he completed a full term in the Imperial Guard. When it was over his Commander not wanting to go through the trouble of relocating him personally, abandoned him on the most frontier trading post in the sub-sector: Port Wander. There he was to await reassignment (he was told that it often took years for the orders to come through and just “wait tight”). His duties at Port Wander were to screen incoming would be traders for unregistered Psykers as part of the customs security (traders being uptight about would be cheaters using Psykers to influence various deals illegally). He was treated “better” than in the guard, and by that people were less direct with their scorn and lack of respect, they simply waited until he was out of the room (but still well within telepathic range). Here he was talked to politely at face value, but kept firmly isolated with the exception of the half hearted attempts to keep him entertained (the custom’s workers had a lottery). Thus he lived in a state of limbo, yearning to DO something, yearning for a meaningful human contact, and yearning for anything really…

Dr. Damian Hammond

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