Name: Arvo MacMillan
Faction: Mercenary
Rank: Private Contractor
Age: 35
Physical Appearance: auburn hair, blue eyes. Thin beard, large, wide scar on the right side of his face from a run-in with an overly ambitious Ork. He is tall, and well-built from a life of living , coming in at about 6'6" even, 250 pounds. He wears a short sleeved duster coat over some scavenged flak armor.
Personality/Mentality: Arvo is a very independent man, a rebel without a cause who doesn't really find any of the options in his own world very appealing. The Imperium is worshiping a dead man on a throne, the cultists are fucking nuts, the Orks don't exactly give him money, and everyone else is just a bit too freaky for him. Nevertheless, he's a proud human being, and tends to work in the general interest of his fellow men as long as those interests also include his well-being and monetary gain. He's rather open to conversation with anyone, though, and finds himself getting along with a good bit of the riff-raff of Sallow Harbor.
Backstory: Growing up in or around Sallow Harbor is not at all a small feat- for one, your parents have to live there in the first place, and there's plenty of hazard, even if it is free of the universe's more... extreme actors. Nevertheless, living in the world of Sallow isn't easy for a kid, but Arvo MacMillan has managed to make it this far. Growing up with a chip on his shoulder and a strong survivor's mentality, with a hard edge that served him well in his growing years, the son of a illicit arms trader managed to get by with begging, thievery, brawling, and helping with the family business. During his late teenage years, his cunning and strength, honed by years of stealing what wasn't bolted down and fighting anybody who had a bone to pick with him, was tested in the gladiatoral arenas, where he managed to survive on a combination of brute strength and a nothing-is-prohibited mentality, earning a name for himself as one of the hardest humans to step into the arena.
This ended up working to his advantage, as, after killing a rather uppity Nob (who left Arvo with the nasty scar on the side of his head), he managed to find himself approached by a noteworthy smuggler by the name of Thane 'The Ravager'. Thane needed a reliable henchman, Arvo needed money- it was a match made in heaven. Arvo endeared himself to Thane working as muscle, as well as displaying remarkable savvy when it came to working around what most people would consider 'proper'. Through many misadventures that led him through all different sorts of clients and buyers, Arvo worked up quite a fair sum of wealth- unfortunately, Thane was an absolute idiot when it came to picking his battles, and got his head lopped off by a Freeboota Kaptin in a swindle-gone-wrong over a bolter.
Undeterred, Arvo managed to use the reputation he'd garnered as hired help for Thane to start his career as a freelancer, working for whoever was willing to pay him. Arvo quickly gained a reputation for integrity, affordability, and efficency- values not easy to come across in S'Arbor. As the years passed, with many close shaves and escapades, Arvo was making a decent living for himself. When his father died, he took the arms-smuggling as his own, giving anyone willing to pay whatever he could find- but keeping the nicest bits for himself.
Equipment and Wargear: -Duster- -Flak Armor- -Bolt Pistol- -Agripinaa Pattern Type II Autogun- -trench knife x2-
Specialty: An extremely savvy smuggler, merc, and gunfighter. Where the money flows, Arvo goes (so long as it isn't putting him at too stupidly high a risk), and you won't find a merc anywhere who delivers such great results with so little investment. He also knows his way around guns, and if you can think of it, he has it, or knows someone who does.
Weaknesses: Arvo wouldn't say he's a coward, he prefers the term 'sensible'- if the job carries too high a risk for him to get killed, he's not going to take it, and if the job he's on takes a turn for the shit that he can't get out of, he'll save his own neck first.