Volk is a little over six feet tall, with a girth of muscle to match, plus a little bit extra gravy. What he wears is usually simple and unassuming, a reminder of simpler times, and as a recent member of the Inquisition has not really taken to wearing sigils or icons. His face is a maze of wrinkles, from laughter and years of worry, and a single scar goes from the top of his nose, between two twinkling, gray beads for eyes, and up his bald scalp at an angle. An unruly mass of a beard dominates his face, black but starting to show a healthy amount of gray. His token is the great-axe he carries, modified to a power axe. It was once a staff, gifted by his Schola mentor, inscribed with countless teachings that seem to have a light, pale glow of their own in the corner of your eye. His voice is rough, rustic, with an earthiness that rumbles.


Ever since he was in the Schola, he’s been shafted in life. His noble parents were sent to the penal legions, leaving him to the Schola, where he spent his time serving space-gruel or memorizing lecterns for his teachers. He had been personally instructed by Djinn, Karate Kid style, who took pity on him. He was kept behind, years after other students graduated, and out of spite he made himself love the chores he did. Eventually, out of rage, he murdered a student, and Djinn ended up sacrificing his life to prove Volk innocent, thinking he was framed. Volk hasn’t forgiven himself since. As a result, he’s been safeguarding the people who he believes he killed, keeping their personalities locked in his head, growing like parasites, developing something akin to MPD. Otherwise, he’s a pretty fun guy, likes to cook and eat…

Schola — 27 years
Feudal World “Herthia” — 22 years with partner, Midved
Brief visit to orbital trading post
Caught a ride to Ostris — Stays for 54 years, helps raise the future Ostris regiment captain


Dark Heresy n' Friends Peachpunk EKBK