Name: John Cecil Feeney

Age: 41

Gender: Male

Height and weight: 6'6, 240 pounds. 

Specialty: He is a member of the Frateris militia and as such has no official specialization, though he along with other members of the Militia are classified as shock troops. 

Appearance: He is quite tall (6'6 as said earlier) and of bulky - not fat, nor muscular - build. He has prominent features, extremely thick stubble though not quite a beard, along with long (though not hanging off of his head) straight black hair. His eyes are an ordinary brown colour, and he is covered in scars, some self-inflicted, others not, many of which shaped like Aquilas and such. 

Uniform: He wears very thick leather gear to at least somewhat deal with the Ork burnaz. His armour however, is a series of mostly plasteel and ceramite (though a few rockcrete, adamantium and plascrete ones too) plates banged, welded or otherwise brought together to create a full suit of primitively designed armour that takes nearly an hour to get in or out of. While very primitive in design, many dents in it are proof of it's effectiveness. Over it is a bandolier of various injections of combat drugs and ammunition for his weapon(s) and a basic gas-mask used in his homeworld's factory. 

Armament: a hack shotgun, one very large mono-knife, his home-made armour, a heavy stubber, and a demolition charge attached to his back for a spectacular suicide. 

Personality: while he used to be a calm and reserved man, all of that disappeared along with his old life. He is now a maddened fanatic ripping apart enemies with his bare hands, and hates the slightest of impurities, the slightest of transgressions against man, often blasting mere rats with two tails or cockroaches with extra legs with his guns. 

Greatest Ambition: To exterminate any and all threats to the Imperium.

Greatest Hatred: enemies of mankind.

Skills: while he used to be a great leader of nearly anyone, his recent changes in becoming a Frateris Militia member have made him only good at leading other members of the Militia. He is absolutely fearless however, and after many battles and out of combat self-training has become the best fighter someone in his position possibly could be, reloading his weapons in less than a second, and even beating Nobs in single combat (of course, assuming he has some sort of advantage like a surprise attack, or them not having any armour).

Bio/History: 

A native of Vernum Primas, he was brought up rather peacefully in the hive, his parents doing well for themselves and thus his child. His father was an aide to the Governor, while his mother a clerk for him/her. He was a big kid and loved playing "Guardsman," both the Guardsman and whoever the loser was, so long as the Guardsman always beat the enemy. He was always a very devout, organized and obedient child, listening to teachers, parents and authority, whilst retaining many friends in a place as unforgiving as a hive-world. When he finally became of age to work, he became an overseer of a factory, and while he did get it by being related to important people, he did deserve it, treating his workers fairly and handling crises expertly. 

His life was quite uneventful, until his skills gained the attention of the governor him/herself. He was about to be promoted to aide of the governor soon for his outstanding work. Excited as ever having new means to serve the undying Lord, he prepared himself. However, on the same day that he was to be promoted, the Greenskins came. The announcement was horrible, people dying and being ripped apart one by one. Being high-born, he was one of the few evacuated. However, when he saw the world he came to call home in flames, a great, unimaginable anger overtook him. The drums of war began beating in his head, the sound of blood-curdling screams, of bullets flying, of lasguns hissing, of men and women losing their lives. He instantly joined the Frateris Militia being organized, and while his somewhat fat body and desk job proved an impediment, he quickly overcame it with the help of his sheer zeal.

Now he fights the Ork menace, longing for victory, which he [i]knows[/i] will come. One by one he rids the world of the Ork menace, advancing fearlessly through attacks brought upon him by the enemy, singing songs and laughing as he mows down the enemy be it with knife, bullet or laser. So long as he draws breath, they will die, and even then, he would commit and honourable suicide with his explosives. 

Miscellanous: His armour (and I suppose heavy-stubber) look like this 
[img]http://i.imgur.com/xOLetiQ.jpg?1[/img]