Name: Phrike

Gender: Male.

Age: 32.

Former Occupation: Prisoner, born and bred.

Former Rank/Position: Prison cutman, "ghetto medic."

Mental and Physical Traits: For such a man who looks like something fresh out of a nightmare, Phrike is oddly jovial and friendly, if only superficially, as the man puts no real trust in those around him and uses his submissive nature only to see another day - as grim as it may be. He rarely fights, not without it being on his terms and is not prone to great feats of courage. In fact, he tends to cower around authority.

His strengths lie in his resourcefulness and tenacity, characteristics necessary for a man who operates on men with intestines pouring out, stab wounds and broken bones from tyranical Arbites with nothing but the bare minimum and hard fought knowledge. An addendum, he holds no love for the Emperor or any other faith, the Legion is only but a way to flee the cage he has been born into.

Appearance: Tall, overtly so for someone as nutrient deficient as a prisoner of Redemptio, and whip thin at that. His nose and face is covered in burst blood vessels, sunken blue eyes with eyebags like you wouldn't believe and a face marred by pox scars, with a huge gash running along the top of his lip through his right nostril. His gait is hunched and awkward, his arms, neck and stomach laced with self-harm scars.

He is missing a finger or two on his left-hand from frostbite and he habitually shaves his head down to the scalp, as well as his face and eyebrows - the risk of contracting ticks and mites in his line of work is too common to handle. The barcode tattoo common to all in a Penal World has been placed on his forehead, as well as varying blue, faded tattoos of various denominations: such as a pin-up on his left chest, eyes above his groin and various administrative tattoos along his scalp, such as his prisoner ID, services rendered, etc.

Wargear:
Lascarbine
Explosive Collar
2 Mono Knives
3 Frag Grenades
3 Krak Grenades
Flak Helmet (His Flak Vest has been stolen, unfortunately for him).
Imperial Guard Penal Legion Prisoner Uniform
1 Inhaler
1 Gas Mask
Poor Weather Gear
Rucksack
Basic Tool Kit
Mess Kit & Water Canteen
1 Weeks' Rations
Blanket & Sleep Bag
Rechargeable Lamp-Pack
Micro-Bead
Ident Tags ("Dog Tags")
Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer
Various medical implements (if that's alright).

History: Just another lost soul, Phrike was born into the harsh realities of Redemptio and survived only by the generosity of a few Arbites, the weight of his parents connections and luck; it seemed more than likely that he'd die from starvation or one of the many infectious fevers that ran through the confines of the colony. However, as it is with all things, his parents passed as time went on from one thing or another, Arbites once kind to him were transferred, killed or turn coat and the connections he once enjoyed soured. A teenager, alone, he was abused frequently - his fear of authority comes from the many "visits" to his cell by Arbites after light's out.

There's no real history to be had for Phrike, actually. He survived by luck or tenacity into his adult years where he became the local cutman, an apprentice to the underground surgeons and bloodletters for those who feared punishment or retaliation from authority for injuries rendered. This allocated him some respect, gave him a purpose and allowed him to survive as long as he has.

His name had been passed over numerous times for introduction to the Legion personally by the High-Governor, his presence calms the local populace and takes valuable stress of cramped infirmaries. How his name made it past the ballet this time is unknown, but it has afforded Phrike the opportunity for a life outside his cage.

For how long, though?