On first observing Rezrel most tend to discount him. A short, hunched over void-born with greasy thinning ginger hair. A weasel of a man, barely existing and a far cry from the imposing figures of the great Adeptus Astartes or the noble Arbites. Mostly seen in formless multi layed clothing so barely any flesh, if any is ever on show, a great cloak covering himself and the hood usually drawn up. A closer inspection however might grant further insight. That his robes were handmade by a craftsman of exquisite skill, pockets and holsters stashed within the many folds to be discreet and seemingly invisible at anything further than point blank range. And clean, very clean. Those that peer further would notice that the hood oft obscures the Carapace helm contoured to the odd shape of his head thus rendering a certain level of anonymity within the imperium. Those that lookedopen him as a whole would notice the sanctioning mark and look again, spotting the staff, the psykana mercy blade, the sword strapped to his back beneath the cloak. Those that have the misfortunate of being the closest of all will see the beautifully crafted hand cannon phasing into his hand. The power of the warp glittering in his green ever watchful eyes as the bullet leaves the chamber. Then they won’t see much of anything at all.
Rezrel is not the man he used to be. The inquisition started as an adventure. A way to get away from the utter tedium of the station. A way to really indulge in his extremes. For a long time he slipped from one world to another, one emotion to another, an intransient self. Then he met Enri and his horizons expanded. Suddenly the galaxy wasn’t just about killing cultists and hunting heretics. Suddenly the galaxy was about knowledge, and power, and influence and all the things Enri had, Rez wanted. Avaricious, greedy, thirsty for the skill and ability. This drove him, as it drives many acolytes, although few profess such. Neither did Rezrel, openly. He is neither fool nor madman, although he presented as such, a further process of the part he played. The disregarded. Rezrel has an immensely strong will that exhibits in many ways, from simple displays of psychic power to standing his ground against the most horrific of monsters. After all, is he not one of them? Somewhere along the way the pursuit of power became something else, evolved into something else. It was no longer about the power obtained, it was about the power to protect. Upon the spires of Hive Sibellus Rezrel sent a man to die. An innocent man. A man of good intentions, an honest trade and no ill will to the imperium. He sent him to die for the good of the inquisition. Enri might have power, but Rezrel came to believe a greater truth existed. Integrety, faith, duty. To the emperor he had always declared these, the black ships training him well but now he pledged to something else. He pledged his faith and his duty to the imperium. To protect it, to save it from the ruinous powers that the likes of Enri represented. To strike at the foes of man. So he still seeks power, and he is neither selfless or the truest athiest. After all, what man could be a saint when he seeks to save mankind, whilst still a man?
Rezrel met their inquisitor a couple years ago, by chance. A daemonic cult establishes a power base on the station, their malefic presence bends the warp, driving me slowly mad. Word had got out that there was an inquisitor on the station, however and being a psyker around an inquisitor when there’s a malefic presence on the station is a bad thing indeed, so I kept my head down. Unfortunately as the twisting of reality continued I almost broke, seeking the source of this twist on my own. Unfortunately it happens to be that when the inquisitor and her team are on the station searching for the cult as well. So I arrive before their sanctum having followed the misshapen fabric of the warp, alone, about to head through when Zakarea arrives,. She manages to distract or delay me long enough that the inquisitor with their own psyker happens to arrive too, following that same twist of the nature of reality. Being outside a cult sanctum is not a good place to be, however, and we’re both initially incarcerated. Fortunately the evidence is clear that we have not been contaminated or tainted with the work of evil, and the inquisitor notes my unusual yet useful abilities, and my immunity to mindscanning. She and her team leave, but I am not forgotten, years later when her team are wiped out, the memory of myself (and my keeper) come to mind and she arrives on the station with an opportunity. The ghetto of a space station are no place for someone with the potential such as I…
Events and notable achievements
- Conned their first contact on their first mission out of 5 thrones.
- Successfully completed his first mission without dying
- Headshot someone at 45 meters with a pistol
- Got into a battle of wills with the power of a sun and won.
- Confounded a great Magos of the techpriest, confounded him to Death
- Managed to aid in the release of a powerful Xeno, allowed it to escape with a heretical titan of great power
- Survived his second mission without any friendly fire!
- Not been stabbed by Zak in over 3 weeks.
- Involved in the destruction of a large cult, and setting a tiny insignificant portion of Yvaigne on fire for decades to come
- Hurled a Daemon back into the warp, except probably didn’t.
- Legshot someone at 65 meters so hard they exploded.