USCMRPG

A look of grim purpose settled itself on Oliver's face. His had not been an easy life and the small glints of hope and happiness, his family, his friends, had been tucked furtively between the grind of poverty and suffering, like a flower pressed flat between the pages of an encyclopedia. Yet since ...

"tis a bit fresh out here." said the Oliver. The cold air made his lungs feel like they'd shrunk a few sizes. His movements were deliberate and mechanical, his crumpled tissue of a face grave, as he methodically observed their surroundings appraising the situation.

<<rolls awareness>>

Oliver slowly and meticulously examined his weapon his brow furrowed. He paid special attention to his combat knife which he sharpened with great care. He occasionally would use it for whittling which was one of his few pleasures. He then began packing his cold weather gear. He turned to Sykes "I re...

Oliver Grisham awoke disoriented from the unfamiliar experience of cryosleep and slowly got to his feet. The expression he wore on his face was faintly pained, like he was watching someone behave self-destructively but was powerless to intervene. His face was lined and leathery, his hair short and b...