Ryder "Beaver" Jarvis – Wasteland Survivor

Basic Profile:

• Name: Ryder Jarvis (callsign/nickname: "Beaver")

• Age: 31

• Height: 6’5”

• Weight: 205 lbs

• Build: Slim, lean, built for endurance

• Hair: Short blond

• Eyes: Hazel

• Skin: Fair (perpetually coated in dirt and dust)

• Facial Hair: Stubble, never quite clean-shaven

• Ethnicity: Midwestern Canadian

• Accent: Strong Canadian lilt, often drops stereotypical slang ("Oh yeah no, for sure, bud.", "Eh.", "Sorry, bud.")

• Distinguishing Features: Military tattoos (regimental insignia, battlefield memorial pieces), personal ink (a wolf across his forearm, the phrase “For those who can’t” on his ribs), and an ever-present, lopsided grin

Background & Pre-War Life

Born and raised in Calgary, Alberta, Ryder Jarvis was the product of two starkly different worlds—his father, a hard-nosed coal miner who believed in sweat-earned respect, and his mother, a wildlife conservationist with a deep reverence for nature. The two perspectives clashed constantly, but Ryder learned to appreciate both sides: resilience from his father, compassion from his mother. From an early age, he was tough as nails, but always the guy willing to stop a fight before it started, or patch up a wounded animal instead of putting it down.

Service was always in his blood. Not keen on working the mines, but too restless for academia, he enlisted in the Canadian Armed Forces (CAF) at 18, training as a Combat Medic. Over the next decade, he became a battlefield savant, learning how to apply medicine under fire, perform field triage, and adapt to whatever hell his unit found itself in. His natural ability to stay cool under pressure, mixed with his razor-sharp wit and storytelling charisma, made him a legend among his fellow soldiers. He had an uncanny ability to keep morale high, even when the world was burning down around them. His philosophy? “If you can’t laugh about it, you’re already dead, bud.”

Though healing was his trade, war had other plans. He became damn good with a gun, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Whether it was returning fire while stabilizing a casualty or leading an evac under fire, Ryder was every bit as deadly as he was life-saving.

The Fall – Surviving the End of the World

When the bombs fell, Ryder wasn’t on duty—he was on vacation in Florida, of all places. His squad had just wrapped up a tour, and he'd taken some well-earned leave to escape the snow, soak in some sun, and maybe drink an irresponsible amount of whiskey. That plan ended when the first mushroom cloud rose over the horizon.

Chaos hit immediately. In the first week, civilization crumbled, and Ryder was forced to abandon his survival instincts as a soldier and become something more—an opportunist, a scavenger, a survivor. He trekked through the madness, dodging raiders, dodging panicked mobs, dodging death itself, until he found Stock Island Golf Club Survivor Camp—a ragtag community just trying to make it through another day.

For the past few years, Beaver has become the camp’s backbone. His medical expertise makes him invaluable, his skill with a rifle keeps the walls secure, and his smart-ass attitude reminds people that even in hell, there’s still room for laughter. He has a natural storyteller’s rhythm, painting vivid pictures with his words, whether he’s recounting a near-death experience or casually explaining how to dig a bullet out of a lung. His Midwestern Canadian accent comes through strongest when he’s relaxed, with the telltale lilt of a "bud", an "oh yeah no, for sure", or a "sorry" slipping into even the tensest conversations. He wakes up before the sun, runs laps of the compound, lifts whatever heavy objects he can in place of weights, and triple-checks his gear like an old habit that refuses to die. Routine keeps him sane. Keeps him sharp.

But more than anything, Ryder has one simple rule:
"You go before I go, bud. Ain't no way I'm letting you die if I can stop it."

Personality & Traits

• Charismatic & Quick-Witted: Ryder’s got a silver tongue and a sharp sense of humor, often dropping lines of absurd, profanity-laced wisdom that somehow always ring true. He’s a storyteller by nature, able to turn even the grimmest situations into something you can laugh about.

• Deeply Compassionate: He’d never admit it, but under the dirt and the bravado, Ryder is soft-hearted—he’ll put his own life on the line to save a stranger, no hesitation.

• Unfiltered & Rough Around the Edges: Swears like a sailor, talks like a hockey player, and never sugarcoats a damn thing.

• A Man of Routine: Even in a world gone to hell, he keeps structure—exercise, gear checks, patrols. Control what you can control.

• Battle-Hardened: He’s a medic first, but he will put you in the dirt if you cross the line.

Gear Loadout

Despite the apocalypse, Ryder still operates like a soldier, just with a wasteland twist.

Primary:

• L86A2 LSW (Bullpup Light Support Weapon)

  • Red Dot Sight

  • Leather Cheek Rest

  • A battle-worn workhorse, still deadly in skilled hands

Secondary:

• Beretta M9 (Extended Mag – 21 Rounds, Granulated Grip Texture)

  • Reliable, simple, and punches hard when needed

Medical Loadout:

• MedKit (Field Dressings, Painkillers, Stimulants)

• Smoke Grenades ("In case I need to not be somewhere anymore.")

Outfit:

• Combat Shirt (Weathered, sleeves rolled)

• Combat Vest (Wasteland Modified – Shoulder Armor, Thigh Plates)

• Shemagh (Dust cover, impromptu bandage, everything in between)

• Jeans & Combat Boots ("Hey, bud, not my first choice either, but y’know—gotta work with what ya got.")

Motivations & Endgame

Ryder doesn’t dream of rebuilding the world. He’s got no grand illusions of a perfect future. His goal is simple: keep the people around him breathing, one day at a time. If he can make them laugh along the way? Even better.

But deep down, he wonders—is there something more out there? Somewhere beyond the bloodstained roads and empty husks of cities, is there a place where a guy like him doesn’t have to fight every day just to wake up the next? Maybe. Maybe not.

Until then, he’ll keep moving. Keep patching up wounds. Keep firing when he has to.

And if the wasteland ever thinks it’s gonna take Ryder “Beaver” Jarvis down?

It better be ready for a fight.