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Grenville T McRalph

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a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by XavierDantius32

Description

Name: Grenville Thomas McRalph
Nicknames: Gren
Age: 47
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Louisiana
Height: 6'5
Weight: 170lbs

Extended Information
Appearance: Hailing from the swamps of darkest Louisiana, Grenville bears all the hallmarks of a grizzled hunter and veteran, with sunburnt, leathery skin, pockmarked with scars from childhood acne, and encounters with enumerable beasts. His face is broad and chiselled, with a crooked nose and a square jaw. Like any hunter, Grenville's eyes are keen as knife-blades, set deep in his face, shadowed by hooded brows. He keeps his hair cut close to his scalp, giving him a slightly professional look. For a man of his years, Grenville is in remarkable shape, with a well developed musculature clinging to his stocky frame, however, a large amount of time spent in the company of alcohol is beginning to take its toll, pushing the Bounty Hunter's gut out.

Much like the tribesmen of primordial earth, Grenville adorns his person with trophies taken from kills and the field of battle. The majority of these hang around his neck, on chains or cord. The largest, and most prominent is a pair of lion teeth, which hang on a sliver chain around his thick neck. Typically, Grenville tends to dress practically, sticking to combat trousers, tucked into a pair of tall leather boots. His torso is normally covered with a close fitting shirt, with a battered and faded leather jacket over this.

Personality

You don't go through war and conflict without being changed, for better or worse. Grenville's front-line expierience completely reversed his previous outlook. He is no glory hound, sniffing at the boots of fame. He has stared death in the face, and spat in his eye. As a veteren of many campaigns, Grenville has a remarkable grasp of simple battle tactics, and how to read an enemy. His hunter's instinct and drive make him a relentless and determined enemy, difficult to shake off once he has a scent. One of the less favourable traits that Grenville carries around is the unwillingness to admit that he is in the wrong, or to take orders from someone he considers unworthy of his respect. Naturally, in the rigid structure of any modern military, this would lead to a variety of dicipline issues. Grenville's background as a hunter means that he is generally wary and suspicious of people, making him an unwilling participant in any group. He also carries a certain amount of paranoia from spending so long in isolation. In regard to close relationships, Grenville doesn't form them. Years spent dispatching child soldiers in Africa have hardened his heart against sympathy. If you get in his way, be you man, woman or child, he'll put you down like a dog. At some point in his life, he may have had the capacity to love and care, but now he just doesn't. Its what makes him such a good killer. A target is just a target to him. No remorse. No regrets.

Equipment

Weapons: For his primary weapon, Grenville carries an M4 carbine. The rugged weapon performs well in most environments, and has seen him through many sticky situations. The versatility of the weapon is what impressed Grenville the most, as the addition of a pictaninny rail system allows him to mount a large variety of attachments. Mostly, he uses the weapon with a flash/sound suppressor, a 4x ACOG sight and a 40mm grenade launcher.

Grenville's backup weapon has been with him since he enlisted at 19. The M1911 Colt .45 has been in service with the U.S army since 1911, and remains a practical rugged design. Grenville's has seen every battle, and has been repaired enumerable times.

Strapped to his thigh is the broad leather sheath for his broad-bladed combat knife, which is almost as battered and knocked around as he is.

Armour: Under his jacket, Grenville carries a simple bulletproof vest, consisting of a kevlar vest, with a pouch for a large ceramic plate, affording basic protection against small arms and melee weapons.

History

Biography:
Life has always been hard on the edges of society, and this was true for the McRalphs. Living in a decrepit, hand built log cabin in the centre of the Louisiana swamps, the family of four survived as trappers, scratching a living off the skins from aligators and other animals. His father was a violent alcoholic, living on the edge of the law, often summoned to the county court for violent threats against trespassers on his property. His mother was a sorrowful introvert, who spent more time contemplating her navel than caring for her three children. Grenville recieved a brutal upbringing at the hands of his two elder brothers, who gace him a taste for violence, and the skills needed to hunt among the swamps.

School was never something Grenville found interesting. For the most part, he never attended, prefering to spend his time stalking prey across the wasteland. When court orders and angry officials pressganged him into the classroom, he was disruptive and violent. At the ripe old age of seventeen, he was expelled from High School, for the crime of dealing cannabis on school premesis. This also earned him a police caution and a custodial sentence.

Once he was done with this breif hiccup, he left the dank, festering swamps of Louisiana, for the bright lights of Miami. He spent much of his time scratching a living on the street, picking pockets and mugging unfortunate tourists. Through this informal occupation, he fell in with a gang of street punks, who took Grenville under their wing, and nutured him into one of their own. As gang-crime quickly spread across the city, the punks were assimilated into working for the mafia. Grenville sped through the ranks, through his love for violence and brutality, which earned him the respect of the higher-ups in the organisation. Unfortunatly, his first big job was to be his last. On the morning of February 17th, Grenville was handed a pump-action shotgun and several large bags, and was told to take five men and rob a high-street bank.

It had been a set-up. As he stormed the bank, guns-blazing, thirty armed policemen sprung from the vault. After a breif firefight, Grenville was in police custody. In normal circumstances, he would have been executed, his short but bloody existance ended. However, the rise of rebel tribes in Africa had threatened US assets in the continent, provoking the need for cannon fodder on the ground.

Grenville was offered a choice. Join the army, or face death in the chair. Naturally, he joined up, and was hastily shipped out to defend a diamond mine in the Congo. The fighting raged on for four long years of brutal close-quater fighting. Gone were the days of picking off your enemy from afar. The oppressive jungle gave the rebels cover. Ambushes were frequent. More often than not, the fighting dissolved into brutal melees of machete and pistols. The war hardened Grenville, turning him into a ruthless, stealthy killer.

Eventually, the mine was secured, and the war-weary troops were shipped back to the states. As they waited for a new deployment, Grenville quietly slipped away, altering the records, as if he had perished in the Congo. Now scrubbed from most records, he headed out to California, plying his trade as a bodyguard.

In the two decades that link the past and present, Grenville took on a myriad of roles ranging from a mercenary to corrupt african dictators, to a deniable operator for MI6. Through this work, he once again gained the attention of American law enforcement, earning a place on the FBI's Most Wanted list. As Marxas began to expand, the need for men in their private army grew, and thus, Grenville was discretely approached, and offered amnesty and protection, in exchange for his unique skills.

So begins...

Grenville T McRalph's Story

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Grenville T McRalph "I'll take anyone who is willing and can fight." Grenville said as he returned the smirk/

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Grenville T McRalph "I'll have a scotch Teris, and grab Firecloud here whatever she wants." He called back.

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Grenville T McRalph "You'll get your share of any money we make. Extra cash for those who are wounded in action." he replied, a note of steel in his voice as he began to talk business

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Grenville T McRalph "Well I hope you decide to join. We could use someone of your calibre." Grenville said. "Of course you'll have to supply your own equipment."

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Grenville T McRalph Took the scotch from Teris and settled back in his seat, the shotgun proped against the chair. Close to hand. While the conversation had been going on, the Hyena had wandered over to Derek Anderson, curiously sniffing at him. "I don't but I can guess your a woman of some mettleif you hang about in this dive."

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Grenville T McRalph "We work mainly in securing assets across the world. Defending mines from rebels, protecting political leaders from angry mobs." He knocked back the scotch and continued. "Most western countries use their own military forces, so we work mainly out in Africa and the Mid-east."

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena looks up at Derek Anderson, turning its baleful brown eyes on him, panting expectantly for some food.

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 The Hyena snapped up the peanuts, sneezing as the salt from the nuts tickles his nose. Grenville turned to Firecloud. "Generally we try not to mix with the locals. Unless we are dispensing lead." He grinned. "Think all you like, I'll be around here."

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena looked into Derek's eyes and switched his over towards Grenville, clearly indicating his owner.

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena pads after Derek and nuzzles up against Grenville, as his owner scratches between his ears. "Yeah or he found you." He chuckled. He checked the shotgun was still by the chair as he engaged Derek in conversation

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Grenville T McRalph "Hi. I'm Grenville, and you've already met Sainted here." He said, patting the Hyena between the ears.

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Grenville T McRalph "Well, I'm a Mercenary captain. I'm Hiring at the moment if your interested." Grenville smiled back, also remembering that Derek had been listening before.

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Grenville T McRalph "A detective, eh." Grenville's hand strayed to the .45 in his waistband, remembering the bag under his seat.

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Grenville T McRalph "Do you work freelance or are you attached to the law?" Grenville asked, his thick fingers curling about the .45's grip while his other hand ran through the short fur on the back of his Hyena.

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Grenville T McRalph "Okay. I got no beef with you." Grenville said, moving his hand away from the .45

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 The Hyena sat up and padded over to the new arrival in the bar;Ionor Deluman. The Hyena's nose sniffed at the man, his gaze inquisitive and puzzled at the same time.

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 "Probably is. Not many people I have beef with live to tell the tale." he said, his voice menacing.

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena turns from Ionor to approach amila, Baleful brown eyes staring up at her as he nuzzled against her legs.

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 "We work mainly or the highest bidder, mostly out in the Mid-east or africa. We secure assests and run bodyguard duty for politians."

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena purred and yipped as Amila petted him, inclining his heat to let her scratch between his ears

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena panted, its long tongue lolling out as it looked up for food.

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena nips the jerky and then indicated Grenville with a flick of his head and a bark.

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 The Hyena pads back to Grenville as he rises from his seat, picking up the shotgun from its place beside the chair. Slinging the weapon on his shoulder, the pair of hunters left the bar together.

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Grenville T McRalph swept into the bar, his shotgun slung by its strap on his shoulder. The wide brimmed stetson shadowes his face as his hobnailed boots clatter off the marble floor as he enters. Prowling along by his feet is a Hyena, its wide golden eyes searching for anything of interest. The animals nose twitches at the wave of smells that role over it as it enters.

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Grenville T McRalph The Hyena pads infront of its master, sniffing at all the new smells it encounters. It yips playfully and prowls around the bar its eyes gazing up at the customers, pausing at the more interesting occupants. Grenville walks over to the bar and sits on a stool, watching his pet with amusmant.