Arch-Militant, Scapegrace, Grump
For the whole of my life I have had to fight for what I wanted. Born to the blood and fire of a death world, I clawed and kicked my way above the rabble of humanity around me and proved myself a capable and ruthless fighter. The only fortune the Emperor ever bestowed upon me was my indomitable will to survive, and the chance attention of a captain in the Tactica Imperialis, an honorable warrior by the name of Lucius Stormhammer. Adopting me into his troop, he channeled my natural abilities into honed skills by training me in the use of almost any weapon and taught me the joy of combat and victory. Along with the rest of his troop, I came to think of him as a father, and my brothers-in-arms became the closest thing to family I would ever know. Then came the wars with the green scum, space Orcs, the vilest of the Xenos. Through years of brutal fighting I witnessed my brothers fall, one by one, until the Orcs had destroyed all but myself and Lucius. The only thing in the universe that could exceed my hatred for the Orcs was Lucius’ own hate for them, and I followed him across the void, helping him seek out and destroy every Orc we could find. Our campaign of vengeance came to an end the day they somehow managed to take Lucius as prisoner, a result of my own miscalculation in the Orcs’ abilities, and Lucius’ selfless sacrifice to allow me to escape death. They tortured him for weeks to find out where I had escaped to, and by the time I was able to rescue him, he had been mutilated and broken, a shadow of his former self. The Orcs had sentenced him to a fate worse than death; life as an invalid, never again to know the joy of leading men to victory through combat. I couldn’t bear to see him in such a state. We went our separate ways; Lucius as a security advisor for a wealthy merchant, me as a freelance mercenary (and sometimes pirate, which brought me into conflict more than a time or to with the Adeptus Arbites). We lost touch for many years, until some months ago I received a message from him. He was at the point of death, his life ebbing away in some Imperial hospital. He told me the merchant he worked for had died, and the mantle of the family warrant had fallen to his coddled son. The fool boy had dragged Lucius along in a vain attempt to secure a trading vessel, and both had been grievously wounded. Lucius knew he couldn’t last long, and without him the rich man’s son was sure to fall to the machinations of his father’s enemies. He called upon me to fulfill his obligation to this fallen aristocrat by protecting and aiding the remaining heir. Giving me his precious hammer, Marta, Lucius made me swear my loyalty to the rich man’s brat. And so began my adventures with Felix, the drug-addicted rogue trader, whose own personal demons and flaws in judgment are as dangerous to us all as the enemies who destroyed his family honor. To the best of my abilities, I have aided him in his quests. Through violence and treachery we commandeered a vessel, and inherited the problems that lay within it; a mysterious old blind man, an imprisoned missionary, a seductive warp-witch and an inept crew. Through his honeyed-tongue and his double-minded trickery, Felix has somehow managed to keep them all from killing each other long enough to help him reach his objectives. But there are many more dangers in this universe, and despite my best efforts, it will be a miracle if any of us make it through this adventure alive.