[center] --- Grenn Blackthorne[/center] [hider=Grenn Blackthorne] [center][img]http://pre14.deviantart.net/ad72/th/pre/f/2015/307/1/a/highwayman_by_pampelmouss-d9fdmon.jpg[/img][/center] [b]Name:[/b] Grenn Blackthorne [b]Age:[/b]32 [b]Height:[/b]5’6” [b]Weight:[/b] 190 [b]Appearance:[/b] The words “ugly bugger” have been used to describe Grenn more often than not. With deepset eyes, a constantly weary look and a face that seems to have been abused by storm for that last hour(s). Aside from that there is a cruelty about his eyes that co-operates with a general joylessness and lifelessness that makes Grenn involuntarily celibate if he doesn’t pay for it. His raspy voice helps little in that regard either. [b]Melee Weapon:[/b] -On his left fist he has a full-plate gauntlet that is plated on the inside as well, connected to a heavy vambrace to protect his forearm. While the plating allows only minor movement of the finger (roughly enough to grab an arm) Grenn is trained with the weapon so that he can also lock smaller objects like sticks or blades with it. Usually he keeps it wrapped in a dirty white oilcloth that is secured with leather straps to keep it well maintained and hidden from cursory glances. -A set of two silver tipped hatchets that Grenn likes to call them the Silver Sisters. [hider=Silver Sisters] [img]http://i.imgur.com/RTtb4W3.jpg[/img] [/hider] -He also carries around a silver tipped rondel dagger usually used to stab into the heart of whatever he is hunting. [b]Firearm/Ranged Weapon:[/b] A heavy rifle that Grenn carries around on his back. The weapon needs to be bolt loaded for every shot but has a magazine of 10 shots. Furthermore it has an underslung “shotgun” that fires Grenn’s favourite sub-munition, a cloud of mountain ash and silver particles, that can enter the bloodstream of a lycanthrope over time through a wound or inhalation, it can also fire regular shotgun shells with a variance of contents. He has named it Sturdy. [hider=Sturdy] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/59/da/70/59da70b0d83cc3c498195c2d361433e7.jpg[/img] [/hider] Secondly Grenn is carrying around a set of grenades that contain all kinds of concoctions to combat monsters. [b]Other Equipment:[/b] A rugged coat that hides most of his equipment, safe for the rifle when he has it with him. It also hides his vambraces. A red scarf is used to hide the gorget he wears to prevent neck bites. [b]Hunting Specialty:[/b] Werewolfs. [b]Bio:[/b] Growing up on a small farm in the marshes near Naveroth wasn’t the easiest live for Grenn, his parents had a small farm there while his dad functioned as a courier for merchants in Naveroth. Due to that Grenn’s father spend a lot of time on the road and always came home with stories he had heard. The townspeople always gathered when he was back in town to hear his stories and latest news. News that became increasingly more worrisome with the inclusion of monsters like vampires, zombies, demons and werewolves. That last monster appeared in Grenn’s village shortly before his sixteenth birthday, when his father was in town again. The attacks continued for a two years or so, but were always centered around Grenn’s father returning. Townspeople started seeing his coming as a bad omen and him as a bringer of bad news. Grenn, like most marshpeople worked as a Peat-Cutter, and in those marshes they encountered beasts and monsters fairly often. He had gained a reputation as somewhat of a brawler and often brought home “trophies” that disgusted his mother. People tried to get him to actively pursue the werewolf but Grenn knew he stood no chance, some boasts here, watches there, but nothing helped against the menace. It eventually claimed his mother as well. He was glad dad was home when it happened, he couldn’t have pulled through on his own. When he was seventeen a Monster Hunter was hired by the townspeople, Grenn also pitched in, to slay the werewolf that had been terrorizing the village. That was when what Grenn feared became reality. His father had been the terror of his village and the Hunter was kind enough to let Grenn in on this before he would set his ambush. That very night Grenn decided he would be the one to set things right. The hunter, his father and the werewolf were never seen in the village again. Grenn only stayed for a week and disappeared the day a fire consumed his parental home. [b]Gemstone:[/b] Onyx, a family heirloom called the "Blackthorne". [/hider] [center]---[/center] Grenn Blackthrone was early. It always paid to be early, gave one time to prepare. In this particular case it granted Grenn an access route he preferred; The dried up river. The riverbed would grant him an approach that was hard to see, keep him from casting a shadow till he emerged right next to the fire that was worth his attention tonight, and most of all it provided a silent walkway of rocks to traverse. Viewing Grenn wouldn’t give one the impression he was the silent type, not in moving at least. He had developed a small hunchback because of the heavy gauntlet on his left hand, that was now hanging almost limp on his side. His pace was steady and almost careless but no footfalls could be heard, no rustling of leaves or breaking of twigs. In his right hand he had “Sturdy”, the underslung shotgun-barrel resting on his shoulder. Every now and then he stopped to listen to a sound only to pick up the steady pace again afterwards. When approaching the fire his whole demeanour changed. An almost predatory stalk took over. A low and purposeful crouch with “Sturdy” poised the way he was looking at all times, his gauntlet supporting the barrel of the rifle. He stopped when he had a full view of the fire, and the warmth on his face. clueless about the man looking through his scope he opened his pocket watch to check the time, a small flicker of the fire reflecting on it. 20 minutes till the meeting.