S.T.A.L.K.E.R. - Zone of the Chernobyl

Artyom "Ratjaw" Plekhanov is a lean but wiry man with sallow, pale skin, the look of someone who’s gone too long without sunlight or rest. His greasy black hair is shaved close on the sides, and a jagged gold tooth flashes when he grins, a grim memento of a drunken knife fight. One eye is slightly bloodshot, always twitching, never quite focused—he claims it’s from a blow to the head that “opened his third eye.” He wears a patchwork of gear—a dirty leather jacket reinforced with metal scraps, black jeans tucked into torn boots, and an old gas mask hanging loosely from his belt. His bulletproof vest is mismatched and half-zipped, with magazine pouches full of ammo and makeshift grenades. His prized weapon, a sawn-off AK with a cracked wooden stock, is slung across his shoulder, marked with tally scratches along the barrel. A Cordon vehicle yard bandit patch is sewn onto his sleeve, proudly crooked.

Once a junkie and petty thief from the outskirts of Minsk, Artyom fled into the Zone after killing a police officer during a robbery gone wrong. He found a new purpose in chaos, joining the Bandits and carving out a reputation for himself in the Cordon. He took over a corner of the vehicle yard, extorting passing rookies, robbing wounded loners, and occasionally selling intel to the highest bidder. Though most see him as a thug, Artyom is one of the few bandits who understands the Zone’s rhythms—he listens to anomalies and reads the air, always seeming to know when danger is coming. Some whisper he’s made pacts with unknown forces beyond the Zone’s edge, but Artyom just laughs and says, “The Zone likes me. We both hate cowards.”

Ratjaw is crude, violent, and paranoid, but he hides a cunning streak under layers of vulgarity and intimidation. He trusts no one, not even his own crew, and often accuses others of plotting behind his back—usually while drunk. Despite this, he’s charismatic in his own disgusting way, rallying weaker-willed bandits through threats, stories, and stolen vodka. He enjoys psychological manipulation, often trying to break captives mentally before deciding what to do with them. When cornered, he becomes savage and unpredictable, like a rat lashing out—hence his nickname.