PC: "Grendal Shaw"

Name: Grendal Shaw
Age: 25
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 185 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Skin: Pale
Quirk: Battle scar on left cheek
Divination: "Be a boon to your brothers or a bane to your enemies."

Appearance: Grendal carries the obvious signs of battle, from the scar on the side of his face to the rugged hands that have faced a lifetime of heavy use. He is not a man of any noticable size, nothing that sets him apart as great. His black hair is cut very short and an early receeding hair line is noticeable.


Past: Growing up in a hive world couldn't be that bad? The stench becomes normal, the constant grit becomes a second skin, and the noise becomes a sweet meledoy over time right? Well maybe not. But Grendal had long since forgotten about the problems of the hive world. Fighting was all that really mattered. Not for some glorious Emperor on some far away planet circling some meaningless star. Fighting for food, for shelter that night, for the scrapes that made life... descent... sustainable.
The gangs of the world that controlled the street corners, they were the real providers, the real emperors. Grendal was an asset to the Dark Skulls, especially in the cross alley fights. Even the "innocents" in the way didn't matter, their lives were better off ended, especially in this hell hole. All that mattered was the next meter gained. The gang wars were constant, entertainment for those foolish enough to be there or the media replays latter.
When Kerra Prime overran the first outpost the gangs were the first ones gathered up, and Grendal among that batch. Each one well informed of the collar around their necks. A pile of padded cloth and a rudimentary projectile gun was given to each one. Shoved in to the backs of unarmored "vehicles" and carted off to war. Surviving the first battle, brought attention, surviving the second brought suspicion. Surviving his third battle under observation brought down the Inquisition.