Boss Fight — Roleplayer Guild

Name:  Grindhouse

Race: Human

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Appearance: He’s tall and heavy set; pushing seven feet of functional muscle and subcutaneous fat. His whole body is covered in a litany of scar tissue he bears proudly. He wears the easily recognizable vestments of his calling; a stylized hockey mask, leather apron (complete with utility belt of combat and butchering blades) and a massive chainsword. The rest of his clothes are light and practical wear. He keeps his head shaved and only removes his mask private or moments of extreme trust, exposing his massively scarred face and surprisingly soft eyes.      

Personality: Despite his trappings Grindhouse is a quiet and thoughtful man who constantly considers the repercussions of his actions. Issues of philosophy and morality are paramount and determining “the right thing to do” motivates his every action. He differentiates himself from others though in the sincere belief that all problems can be solved through the judicious application of ultraviolence.
He is world weary and slow to trust but that which he does he carries a deep and genuine affection for. The weight of his station affects him more so than he would care to admit; Grindhouse drinks heavily and avoids any sort of emotional therapy that might heal him as he ultimately defines himself by how damaged he is.    

History: Grindhouse was born with a different name into a poor farming family on the edge of the Badlands. Life was hard and simple but also genuine and punctuated with moments of earnest satisfaction and love. For a young boy in such a time a place, it wasn’t all that bad.
Then the mutants came. It was a large pack, viscous and hungry. They fell on Grindhouse and his family; all of them raped, tortured, and eaten alive in front of each other. Grindhouse watched his parents uselessly struggle against their captors; they were hardy folk but they weren’t fighters. They begged for their lives and of the lives of their children. It didn’t help. But when Grindhouse sunk his thumbs into the eyes of his assailant and his teeth into its neck, when he buried a butcher knife into the genitals of the mutant guarding the door, when he ran into the night never looking back, that helped. 
He wandered for days, cut, bruised, and the better part of his face chewed off. He had no direction, no plan, just a animal’s will to live. Eventually the young boy was found by a traveling Gorepriest who, looking at the youth’s ruined face and haunted eyes, knew he had found a new disciple.  

Strengths: Proselytizing, melee combat, torture, terrorism, wilderness survival, poetry. 

Weaknesses: Grindhouse is a zealot who has fully subscribed to the tenants of his religion. Before anything else he is an acolyte of The Beast That Feeds The Beast and filters the entirety of his life through this violent lens, even if the situation calls for a more nuanced or compromising approach. He is also prone to substance abuse and destructive outbursts followed by wallowing, self deprecation; Grindhouse constantly evaluates himself and always comes up wanting. 

Other: Grindhouse is a Gorepriest for The Beast That Feeds The Beast, a religious group that venerates its titular primarch, a hyper masculine, psychotically homicidal masked madman that forced order and reason onto a chaotic world through overwhelming brutality. The Caul is the highest ranking authority within the order and they anoint and educate Gorepriests, providing them with the texts and utilities they need to further subjugate the world at large. The Beast That Feeds The Beast is a violent, cruel, and uncompromising organization hellbent on forcing itself on grotesque landscape in the hopes of making things marginally better.      

if you guys have any ideas for magic systems/not-evil races, now is the time to send them to me,

Giant, domesticated tarantulas: There was a time when you wouldn't think of keeping company with, let alone giving scratches to and sharing a bed with a wolf and yet, here we are. 

Phorusrhacidae, or Terror Birds: I don't know; man sized, meat eating, flightless birds just feels right for this sort of setting. I may want to ride one or ceremonially kill it and use its bones and feathers as decorative flair. 

Cactus People: Wasteland Ents made of succulents and or weeds. Largely useless as they are preoccupied with a widely different approach towards both morality and time management, they none the less maintain a monopoly on the region's environmental economy, dictating the ebb and flow of natural resources. 

Sentient Ruins: Giant Mech / Transformer style bases / cities that maneuver around the continent occasionally seeding self sustaining technology in the form of factories, infrastructure, weapons, and robots that further perpetuate a particular technological and political agenda.

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