Dark Heresy n' Friends
The Littlest Storm Trooper
Towering at a mighty 1.35 meters, Grimm is a bearded avatar of death and destruction. While he dabbles in many things including chymistry, piloting, and tinkering with machine bits when the magos’ aren’t looking, his main strength lies in his mastery of close quarters combat. Ever since becoming an =I= agent, he has been steadily improving his craft, and now, after a brief stint at the Schola, is a full-fledged Storm Trooper.
Grimm started his life out on Cron VI, an otherwise near-barren planet rich in iron ore. Became a bit of a pariah in most social circles after showing no desire to follow a military career like the rest of his family. Instead, after deciding he liked to tinker with things on wheels, he worked at a factory producing war trikes, or rather, making sure the trikes being produced wouldn’t fall apart before they made it out of the factory. Yep, he was basically a quality control technician. It wasn’t an exciting life but it was enough. At least until the ‘nids showed up.
Long before the hive fleet loomed over the world, the genestealers made their presence known. Many people had gone missing and a general atmosphere of fear and distrust was prevalent. And then the spores started to fall, their arrival sealing the planet’s doom. Grimm, however, through a certain amount of luck and the cashing in of a lot of favours managed to finagle his way on to the ship of a rogue trader who had the misfortune to be nearby at the time. While Cron VI blossomed with vast mushroom-clouds as the strongholds overloaded their plasma reactors in a last and futile gesture of defiance, Grimm was fighting to keep his stomach from turning inside-out as the vessel he was on tore a portal into the immaterium and got the hell out of dodge.
The next few weeks on the ship are no picnic, as Grimm is press-ganged into working on the lowest levels, in the very bowels of the ship, repairing whatever damage it sustained trying to break through the xenos’ blockade. He receives his first major scar here, as a damaged steam-pipe bursts and severely scalds his left arm. Soon, the ship materialises near a hive city and Grimm is unceremoniously dumped there with nary a throne to his name. Unable to find much in way of employment, he joins the militia.
A few years pass like this and just as Grimm becomes used to this new life, the Guard arrive on the planet, and he ends up among those recruited. After a few weeks of hasty bootcamp training, he finds himself at a bar on the last day before shipping out to… somewhere. As a thoroughly inebriated recruit attempts to start a fight, calling Grimm a filthy mutant, a stranger appears and diffuses the situation rather quickly. He promises Grimm the opportunity to avenge his world and the squat accepts. That’s how Grimm finds himself in Inquisitor Abraham’s employ.