|Date of birth:||2043|
|Blood type:||O negative|
|Status:||Living the revolution|
A hardened and hopeful, if somewhat bitter ghoul, Eric Haganey was used to being looked down on and hated before he was even a ghoul. Born in 2043 by beatnik parents, young Eric became the perfect propaganda for the government's cause against it's citizens.
Born in what a few decades would be called the Boneyard, Eric grew up in the center of the So-Cal political scene. Eric moved constantly as a child, as his parents heard about some little burg just up the road (and because they had a few warrants). Other children in similar conditions might only make one or two friends, Eric was a gregarious child and always made several wherever his parents moved. By the 2050s however, things began to change. His parents took a more active political stance and started going to protests and rallies as the government increasingly intervened in Mexico and pressured Canada.
As the government began to crackdown on these gatherings, Eric and his family frequently had to sleep in the woods and the countryside, with his father teaching some survival skills. they also spent this quality time to talk politics to him. Having home-schooled him his entire life, he was already open minded and willing to think, unlike some of his contemporaries. Eric supplemented these semi-socialist lectures with manifestos and political theory books passed out at the rallies and the people they stayed with over the years.
However he was separated from his parents in 2060 after a surprise raid at a crash house, and was forced to stab a S.W.A.T. member in the neck, and then grabbed his rifle and fled to the sewers. That night in the sewers was one of the longest of his life: the killing of the raid made him have a nervous breakdown, the stench and darkness disoriented him, and the rats and other creatures scurrying frightened him greatly. He emerged the next day looking like the dead and went to one of his friends to see if his parents were there. He was told they were shot trying to help others to escape.
After recovering, his friend told him he could stay with his uncle, a survivalist, in the north Cali forests. When Eric was dropped off there and met this man, a gruff 40-something, bearded to his chest, heavily armed, and sweating profusely, he knew this wasn't going to be like his old home. The next four years the old man had him string traps throughout the woods because he thought "they use the trees, we must stop their flow.", and go to the various ponds scattered around the area, and "count the ducks." His heavy amphetamine use soon became clear and he would read aloud from his various anti-government manifestos and pamphlets. Though he wasn't a father, he was like a uncle to Eric and taught him much of what he knew: how to live in the woods, how to breakdown and clean weapons, to lay simple traps, and perhaps not as practical, how to cook meth.
One night Eric was awoken by a distant noise in the tree line. He got dressed, grabbed his rifle and went to investigate. he found his adoptive uncle sitting in his favorite place beside a small pond with his favorite novel and a double barreled shotgun. As he got closer, the man explained that he was diagnosed with cancer years ago and was fighting it ever since, but he was getting much weaker. He explained to Eric that it was time to go back out and live his life, however he wanted.
Walking back to the cabin, he heard the bark of both shotgun barrels. gathering what supplies he could fit in his backpack, along with his rifle, Eric left the woods that had sheltered him and started heading towards town. When he arrived he immediately began making calls to old family friends for places to stay. The first person he called answered luckily, and invited Eric to stay with him for as long as he wanted to. It took several hours for the man, Robert Finkman, to drive all the way up-state to reach him and take him back to Los Angeles. The day after Robert told him he was going to be gone all day with some friends, and told Eric to make himself at home. Eric, being unused to city life after living the woods for several years began to get restless.
To kill some time, Eric turned on the radio to listen to the news. What was broadcasted was reports of major sabotage to several vital chemical plants in the City of Industry. The cost of the damage was estimated around 40 million dollars and would severely harm the economy. Eric, while over joyed to hear that the oppressive government and their corporate puppet masters had taken a blow, he had a creeping sensation in his stomach about who did it. His suspicions were soon confirmed; Robert burst in an hour later, followed by two men, we were carrying a third man between them, all of them covered in a chemical stench. They cleared off a table and set the wounded man down on it.
Robert told Eric to go get the phone book and call the second number from the top on the last page. Eric, still surprised did as he was told and soon a doctor was his way over. When he got there and was let in, Robert took Eric into the house's den and began to explain what they were doing. By the time the doctor had left, after the wounded man died, Eric was eager to replace him in Robert's group.
For the next twelve years Eric and Robert waged war against the greed and the wealthy of Los Angeles and the greater part of Southern California. Their activities almost always brought the attention of the law, and Eric, who had broken down at his first kill, now did it without emotion. One day however Robert received a phone call that he was waiting on for weeks, and called together all the members of his resistance cell. When they had gathered, Robert revealed that he had a man inside an army base, and that were going to steal weapons and armor to prepare for the revolution. Reactions were mixed; several people, Eric included, were overjoyed at this,while others were hesitant to embark on what seemed like a suicide trip. There were whispers that this was it, as they felt that Robert had gradually been sliding to extremism and was going to start a full scale war.
Robert, sensing this unease, said it would be volunteers only and that his man would get them in easy. After three hours of discussion, the plan was set and Eric, Robert, and two others, Shaun and Frank would leave the next day to meet with Robert's insider at Fort Stockton, Texas. They left at 11:00 a.m. October 22, 2077 and drove all night, stopping several miles east of El Paso for the night. They woke early and continued on their drive and were only two hours from the fort when the bombs fell.
Being totally unprepared for what was to come, they stopped off in Saragosa, an unincorporated township for lunch. While they were eating at the bar/diner there were suddenly dull roars from the horizon and bright lights followed by mushroom clouds. These were seen in the direction of El Paso and barely, from Odessa in the north east. The townfolk tried turning on their radios and televisions to find out what was happening, but all they were met with was static and "technical Difficulties" screens. The fact that a nuclear holocaust had just happened finally dawned on them and in rage, they began to suspect their neighbors and the strangers having somehow orchestrated it.
The Anarchists quickly tried to get back to their car, but the mob would not quit, they came drawing weapons from seemingly no where, and they began killing Shaun even before they had fully pulled him out of the car. Several others began chasing the now terrified anarchists. The Texans began shooting wildly at the car, a lucky bullet entering Frank's head as he tried to give Eric his rifle in the cramped car. Eric who had just got his hand on the rifle when he was splashed with Frank's blood, leaned out of the window, and began firing back with short bursts. While he had hit and killed two of the Texans, one of the two remaining shot the back right tire, causing the car to quickly start sliding all over the road, due to the high speed they were going.
This also caused Eric and his rifle to jerk to the right just as he pulled the trigger. This erratic burst went into the cab of the truck, hitting the driver in the throat, and the remaining passenger in the nose, killing them both. The truck, without a driver, continued forward for a brief moment before pulling hard to the right and going into the ditch at speed, ensuring that it wouldn't be driving for a while. Robert and Eric saw none of this however as they were trying to control the car. They lost that fight handily, when a pothole came under one of their front tires causing them to crash hard, similar to the truck.
When Eric regained consciousness he was in a barn under sweltering heat, and a older looking man looking down at him.
The man, a farmer named Samuel Juarez, said that he found Eric on the road on his way back from town, and brought him back to his farm to wait for help. He explained that his family had been farming here for five hundred years, but was about to lose their land to the state when the bombs fell. Sam also told Eric that he could stay with him and his family for a while, if he was willing to help out when he got better.
After resting in the barn for several days, alone except when Samuel's wife or daughter brought him meals, Eric began to get up and walk around. After another week he was fully healthy. He woke up the next day and started to help Samuel in the field. After their long day of working they washed up, and ate dinner. After this Eric played board games with Samuel's daughter, Maria. This continued relatively the same, except for Eric moving into the attic, for nine years. He still took out his rifle from time to time to clean it and practice a little, but mostly bid his time with ranching, farming and learning Spanish.
One day however the old radio they kept in the kitchen started broadcasting on the emergency frequency, saying that survivors should gather at Fort Stockton. While the Juarez' were excited about the prospect of others besides their two elderly neighbors, Eric was more than doubtful. It had been almost a decade after all, so after much talk, they came to the agreement that he would go and see whether or not there was help, and if it was safe, he would tell them where they are.
Eric left the next day, his backpack loaded with dry foods, and his rifle right next to it. After trekking two weeks across blazing Texas dirt, He finally arrived at the fort. The sight that greeted him was, while not what he was expecting, was along the same lines; rubble and burnt out vehicles everywhere, lingering radiation from the small warhead that targeted the town, because of the oilfields that were on the outskirts. The worst part of it however, was the freshly dead bodies that littered the area around the police station.
The reason soon became clear as several things, horrible people-like creatures with their flesh peeling from their body, came charging at Eric, howling. He responded by shooting several and running back the way he came. This was soon cut off by more of the things, forcing Eric to seek refuge in an old office building. He hid for three days, as the things charged the door to the office he was barricaded in. By the fourth day he managed to breakdown the wall to the neighboring office and was set up for the things to try and charge in, his gun cutting them down as soon as they came in to view. Thirteen bodies were in an a pile by the time he left the building and was running to the edge to town to head back to the farm. A week away, he quickly became very sick. He had trouble breathing, Vomited frequently, his hair started falling out, and his skin began to peel. By the time he reached the farm he was barely recognizable as the same young man who left a month before.
He laid there for days in agony as his skin peeled off from the radiation he absorbed. When the pain finally stopped, he went down from the attic to tell the family, but they recoiled in horror. He went to the mirror to see why, and he too jumped. Almost all his skin had peeled and he looked like the things that attacked him in Fort Stockton. He then collapsed onto the floor with despair, and was carried back to the attic by Samuel and his wife.
The Juarez' thinking that he was just delirious from the burns, tried to comfort him by saying that his skin would grow back. This is when he told them of what he saw in Fort Stockton. The Juarez' said nothing for a while while they let Eric regain his composure. They called Maria up to the attic with the radio and slowly, they went over what happened to Eric. They were interrupted however when someone knocked on their door. Eric and Samuel went to see who it was, with their weapons ready.
Samuel opened the door with Eric covering him, and was greeted by the sight of a dusty man with several others in his yard. This man explained that he was a merchant and he was seeing if anyone was alive on the property, because they were looking for a place to stay the night and would gladly pay. Samuel thought it over for a good minute before telling them they could sleep in the barn, and that some food would be brought to them later.
This is how the Juarez Farmstead become a popular stop with the merchants and travelers along the I10. The goods the merchants carried were traded for food from the farm, farmhands were hired, sometimes for a week, sometimes for months, and Maria even married a charming and friendly young carpenter, after they fell in love over the course of a summer. Eric, while upset over capitalism still being prevalent, was just glad that were other people out there.
Around 2132, When Samuel and Josefina had been dead for 14 years, and Maria and Tod had three children, Eric learned that he was What was known as a "Ghoul" in wasteland parlance. Two weeks after this, the farm was attacked by the first time by a small band of bandits. That night Eric was walking around the farm not able to sleep, when he saw several shapes moving behind the barn. He went to investigate when fire shot across the old barn.
Three men and two women began to charge across the field, battle cries and gunfire filling the night. Eric, desperate for any type of weapon, picked up a rock off the ground and gripped it tight as he dove behind the stone fence that ran around the house. One of the women spotted him and ran over to kill him. He threw the rock, which went sailing off far to her right as she pointed her sub-machine gun at him. The burst of death never came however, as a single shot hit the women high in the chest and brought her down. Eric grabbed the gun and put his back against the wall before looking around to see who saved him. The answer was shooting out of the attic window; Christobel, Maria and Tod's eldest son, had Eric's rifle and was trying fight off the bandits. Eric soon added the SMG's fire power to that of the rifle as he flicked it to full-auto and emptied the magazine. Between the two of them they took down another two bandits, causing the others to flee. Christobel ran down to join Eric as he went to follow them and make sure they were really leaving. They were joined by Tod with the black powder musket the Juarez' had kept in the den for as long as Eric could remember. They followed them to the edge of the property and watched them fade into the night.
The three of them spent the next several hours digging graves for the bandits, evaluating the damage to the barn and repairing the bullet holes in the house. Tod and Maria, who were under the impression that Eric had saved them, were surprised that it was Christobel who had saved him. He offered to teach Chris what he knew about shooting and fighting, and over the next few months, whenever they had spare time, the two of them could be found practicing their shooting, knife work and how to make a few simple explosives until they almost blew up an outbuilding.
Almost a year after the raid, Christobel told his parents, brother, sister and Eric that he was leaving the farm with the merchants in the morning to see the world. His parents, were both deeply saddened and furious, for they were afraid that he would die in some horrible wasteland fashion. The attempts to persuade him to stay quickly turned to yelling, first at him, then at Eric then at each other. Chris left after an hour of this and went to join the current occupants of the partially rebuilt barn stewing about his family.
he was awakened hours later by the sound of someone walking into the barn and sitting next to him. He saw when the figure got close that it was Eric carrying something wrapped in cloth. When Chris tried to ask what it was, the old ghoul waved his hand to stop him and slowly set it on his lap, unwrapping it with care. When the cloth was fully spread out, then contents of it greatly surprised Chris; The 10mm SMG, four extra magazines for it, all fully loaded, two boxes of ammo and a leather gun-belt and holster that seemed made for it. "This is yours." Eric nonchalantly told him, passing the bundle to Chris. "Your a better shot with this, and I don't need it." They sat in the dark for a while, listening to the snore of the merchants and their guards, before Eric got up and left. Christobel left that next morning and Eric had to deal with the residual resentment that was uncovered by his parents the night before.
Eric went on with life like he had been for the better part of century, getting up with the sun, watering the crops, feeding the cows, delivering any merchants their food, and patrolling the farm. This was only disturbed three times within the next fifteen years; when the Second son, Umberto got married, and his bride moved in with them, When the third child, their daughter Mary, got married and moved away a few miles down the road, and when small-pox ravaged the countryside.
Without any inoculations or perhaps even any medicine being made anywhere, the farmers quickly succumbed to the deadly disease. Only Eric, who's ghoul physiology and Pre-War shots survived anywhere within twenty miles of the Farm. After burying the bodies of the Juarez' and grieving for a time, things slowly went back to normal; he still tended to the crops, the cows had died, but he had found a few wild goats and managed to corral them, and merchants once again began asking to stay.
This routine wasn't broken until 2186, when Eric looked out of a window in the living room during his free time and saw a dust covered pair of travelers; a man that looked in his early fifties, and a women about ten years younger. Eric walked onto the porch, his rifle leaning comfortably close to hand, and asked who they were.
He recognized who it was almost at once: Christobel, the son who had left 34 years ago. They greeted each other with a warm hug and Eric asked him what he had been doing for so long. Chris explained that after he left with the merchants, they were attacked by bandits. He and the guards were able to drive them off, which help out his reputation when they got to town. He spent all of his money very fast however and had to take any odd job he could until he managed to sign on to the next caravan.
He spent the next few years as a guard to the Blue Mesa caravan company, parting ways in 2167 when he was hired onto a Rafter ship with promises of treasure from a great expedition. It took him two weeks at sea to realize that he had inadvertently joined a pirate crew.
They were at sea for three months, and in that time they had plundered four rafters, five fishermen, two other pirate ships, and a small oil platform-turned settlement. Chris was a reluctant participants in these events, especially when they found a women among their treasure. The fact that two of the pirates were women didn't make them treat their prizes any better, and they were still thrown overboard when everyone was done using them.
The next time they landed at port, Christobel tried to sneak away. He was caught by the captain but let go because he had grown to like Chris during their time together. Unfamiliar with the swamps of the Gulf Coast, Chris wandered from town to town settling for months at a time, but never staying for more than two years.
Then, in 2176 his travels took him to Brownwood, a rebuilding settlement. They were looking for any guards they could because of a mid-sized band of Comancheros that was operating around those parts. Quickly hiring Christobel on, he started spending his free time with a waitress, Cindy, from one of the two diners in town. with little else to do in town, they fell in love, and had a wasteland wedding, with their close friends to witness.
It was when Cindy was four months pregnant that the Comancheros decided they had enough of not being allowed in. They came at midnight when the guards changed shifts, and when Chris was leaving his home that he shared with Cindy. Being at the far end of town, he was warned of the attack by gunshots and the screams of the townspeople. He ran towards the center of town with his SMG raised, and joined the desperate fight against the bandits. The addition of the full-auto Sub-Machine Gun to the lever-action rifles and shotguns of the defenders, may have helped, if the mayor and sheriff of the town hadn't gotten blown in half by simultaneous shotgun blasts. The defenders routed, and were mostly slaughtered by the victorious Comancheros. Christobel barely managed to get Cindy and escape, shooting four bandits to do it.
Thinking the only safe place to be his family's farm, they started the trek west until they were greeted by Eric on the porch.
When word got around that Chris had returned, traffic picked up, mainly from those hoping to hear his story, or just those who didn't want to trade with a ghoul. All was normal for several months until a group of horsemen rode up to the farm house late one night.
Eric went out to see what they wanted, his rifle in his hands. The horsemen demanded that Chris be turned over to them, which Eric answered with automatic fire. Killing them before they could draw their guns, He then went down to check them. He found several shoddy looking stars, all read 'Marshal.' He turned around and walked up to the porch, which Chris and his eight-month pregnant wife were now standing on and tossed him one of the badges. Eric asked why some marshals would want him, and Chris told him of a group of thugs claiming to be 'marshals' that he had angered to the east.
Eric said nothing to this and left early the next morning, leaving the horses in the corral, and marched east across the wastes. He arrived after nine days of travel at a medium sized settlement called Freighton, and was stopped outside the town by another marshal. The woman told him that 'freaks' like him weren't welcome and that she might sell him to slavers. Getting a good feel for the law in this town by this point, Eric punched her in the jaw, and took her baton from her as she fell, which he used to bash her head in. Ditching the club (and wiping the blood from his face) he proceeded to sneak through the town, ending up outside of the "Police Department" a two story pre-war house. He hid in a rain barrel for several minutes after he got there, bidding his time to get in. It would come when a towns-person ran in the door and started yelling about the body.
This caused seven marshals to run out with the man closely behind them. Eric jumped out of the barrel and quickly entered the building. Once inside he began to search. Finding the "Contraband Room" he was able to get four land mines, six grenades, and four magazines for his rifle. Entering the basement he saw several people in crude cages. He approached the closest one and asked him about the town. The prisoner told him that it was a trading post that caravans used to come to, but then group of raiders came into town and "Elected" themselves as marshals, and anyone who broke one of their laws, or protested, or just looked at them wrong was thrown in the basement.
Satisfied, Eric grabbed the keys off the wall and let all of the prisoners out. He then proceeded to plant the mines and grenades throughout the building, taking care to hide them, and only setting one mine to 'proximity' and placed that in the contraband room. With that he managed to slip out and hide on the outskirts for the explosion. All seven marshals came back to the building, as did four more from various places in the town. Two minutes after they entered, the entire structure was destroyed, with flames and debris shooting out. He managed to find the prisoner he talked to in the crowd looking at the destruction, and told him there were no more marshals. The man told Eric that the town owed him, but he told them just to take care of themselves.
The next century passed as peaceful as Eric could have asked; Christobel had a daughter, and a few years later a son, there were no raiders in the area, wildlife rarely attacked their animals, and trade was good. Eric would watch Chris grow old and his children become adults and start their own families.
This would change in 2279 when Eric received word of the NCR. He set out west to see what grew out of his old home. This would result in him aiding a besieged town, being shainghai'd by a psychopathic tribal, and taking down a large raider clan.
After that he toured the NCR before heading home to Texas. He stayed on the ranch for the next six months after returning, before venturing south into Tamaulipas to see how society was forming there. He became involved in the final stages of the Citadel war, fighting against La Ciudadela. Along with a hired group of Badlanders, he assisted Pancho Mendoza and his legion in the taking of the citadel, though left the main attack to pursue escaping nobles.
Taking out a few bands, he and the mercs returned north, with him arriving back at the Juarez' later in 2280. He has again settled into farm life since then, but adventure always beckons.
Reserved is a term that would Eric very well. If he doesn't know you already, he won't go out of his way to change that unless a person needs help or he needs something from you. He had mellowed out since the war, and will only get upset in situations of at least moderate danger, when observing an abuse of authority, or when a close relation is threatened.
Slow to trust, Eric still carries a few betrayals from before the war with him. When shown that someone isn't going to flip however, he'll open up and treat that person like a member of the family. He tends to resent any authority figure and will often seem stand-offish when around them.
Eric always carries his assault rifle with him, a R91 that he replaced the fore-grip with a vertical handle for better control. He also has a small utility knife in his left hand pants pocket, two canteens filled with water, a pair of work boots, a beat up pair of sunglasses he's had since before the war, a backpack that contains a old hoodie, a lead pipe, four spare magazines for his rifle, and a 10mm smg that was the prize of one of his best after-war friends.
Unique Trait: Old World Values
Brought up before the war, Eric would rather talk out his problems than resort to violence. However, if you flaunt your power or abuse people, he'll open fire before you open your mouth. +5 points for speech, but much more likely to attack figures of authority.
Before The War Eric was a handsome looking man (not that he ever noticed), but after he was irradiated he lost most of his hair and skin. He tries to keep most of his exposed tissue covered, but more to keep dust out than shame.