Bourgeoisie — Roleplayer Guild

@Ambrosia
The half-elf felt, more than heard the growl behind him, turning around Frederick saw a small child standing on the toilet of the stairs yelling her mind out. Raising a blonde eyebrow, he thought back to his childhood, an easier life, when he still had dreams of becoming a landesknecht, when he still believed the tales of chivalry and honor. The girls always wanted to play the lady, and they always wanted him to be the knight. He remembered those memories fondly. He had 't seen many of his playmates in five years, but he still remembered their habits and mannerisms. Looking around, none of the other patrons seemed really fit to care for a child. He thuddered at the thought of that large, boisterous wall of grey flesh that we itself an ogre taking care of the child.

Chucking slightly under his breath, he walked over to the stairs, before sliding down into one legged kneel at the threshold. "What dost thou lady ship desire to sate they hunger?" Frederick asked, using the grandest tone he could muster.

Name: Adrian Kennings

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Appearance: Adrian is six foot exactly with a bulky build. His tanned skin is littered with white scars of varying lengths and widths. One area that is particularly noteworthy is his throat, which is covered in a myriad of scars, nauseating enough that he usually wears something to cover his neck. Adrian would be considered handsome with blue eyes, close cropped black hair, a straight nose, tight lips, high cheekbones, and clean shaven, if not for the wrinkles and lines. Despite his youth, his face looks weathered, and is hair is starting to grey, adding a decade to his looks.

Skills: Adrian was a hospital corpsman, a navy medic, serving with the Marines. Trained in battlefield medicine, the Marines also taught him hand-to-hand, how to shoot, and how to survive. He also has experience with special forces in the form of being a SARC (Special Amphibious Reconnaissance Corpsmen). This training include special forces training, diving training, reconaissance, and medical cross-training.

Personality: Adrian is quiet, both physically and emotionally. He often walks with a silent tread, unless he is under extreme conditions. Due to his vocal chords being mangled, his voice is weak and raspy, and causes him pain to talk for extended periods of time. The medic is extremely cynical, but also supportive and caring to those who he considers under his protection. He also internalizes the Marine motto, Semper Fidelis, Always Faithful, coming off as a loyal hound at times in his interactions.


History: After-Action Report: Operation Thunder Dust
Interview with HM3 (FMF)(SARC) Smith, [redacted].
Conducted by [Redacted] [Redacted], [Redacted] and [Redacted], [Redacted].
-Begin Recording-
[Redacted]: Hospital Corpsman Third Class Smith?
Smith: Yes sir.
[Redacted]: You know why your here Corpsman?
Smith:(Rustling) ... Yes sir.
[Redacted]: Good, we'll cut to the chase then. What happened to your squad?
Smith: (Deep Breath, a cough) Sir, I've already spoken to people from USSOCOM, MARSOC, CIA, MCIA, MI, ONI, hell even the fucking FBI and NSA sent people.
[Redacted]: Yes, yes, we know. We're here as... independent contractors if you will.
Smith:(angrily and confusedly) Then how the hell are you here then? Civilian contractors-
[Redacted]: (Static lasts for roughly five minutes, the only recognizable sound is a slight vocal rhythm)
Smith:-I had been assigned to a MARSOC hunter-killer team, rooting out insurgents in Afghanistan. We were investigating an Afghan village when shit when down. (Cough, clears throat) The village looked like it had been thrown into a meat grinder. Building were rubble, blood flooded the sand paths. Limbs, organs and bones were strewn haphazardly in the streets, on the roofs, everywhere. My squad consisted of six marines, and two corpsman. We were armed with IARs and M14s, and were riding on dirt bikes. We searched the village for about half and hour, and called in reinforcements. We decided to stay the night in the village, when-when-when (Heavy, accelerated breathing, followed by static) I'm sorry for that sirs, but continuing, it was a night that IT came. I had left the building we had holed up in to take a piss. The only reason I lived was because of Kennings-
[Redacted]: Kennings?
Smith: Yeah, Kennings, my superior, and the second in command, the only other survivor. He was on watch duty when the thing came.  It was... it's difficult to describe it, it was like, like a hyena, but not. It looked like a cross between a person and a dog, but huge. It was over 3 meters tall, and must have weighed over a couple hundred pounds, and was covered in stained, coarse brown fur. I noticed it climbing towards our shelter, and alerted Kennings, woke up the rest of the squad by opening fire on the thing. It shrugged off the fire like it was nothing, and it killed one of the gunners before retreating. It spent the entire night playing a game of Cat and Mouse. The only reason I'm alive is because of Kennings. He charged the thing, and fought it, before shoving a grenade into the things mouth. The thing's head exploded, but not before he savaged Kennings. I spent the next hours performing field surgery on him. He's in operation now-
[Redacted]: Thank you, but that's enough.
-End Recording-

"After being discharged from the navy, I-I felt lost. Smith and I had been forced into retirement after their recovery, with a small pension and a medal of honor. That didn't sit well with me. I had been forced to sign an agreement, a fucking contract, promising to not talk about the events that had nearly destroyed my vocal chords. It's a fucking disgrace, my squad died for nothing. The corpse was seized by the government, not for research, but for disposal. So? I joined Blackfield. If the military and government won't protect their people from monsters, then I will."

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