Max "Dench" Britvic
|Looking for Redemption|
|Notoriety||5 (Trog Community)|
|Titles and Awards||0|
|D.O.B.||July 13th 2050|
Metatype - B |
Attributes - A
Magic/Resonance - E
Skills - C
Resources - D
- 1 Character Information
- 2 In Character Information
"Pie Iesu Domine, Dona eis requiem." Max is far from a proper Christian, but just about any forgiveness is appreciated and will go as far as to flay thyne own flesh to find it. Ex-bodyguard to a prolific figure in the Ork Underground, Dench's life came crashing down around him when he failed in his duty to protect his principle who was kidnapped whilst he was incapacitated. But the common rumour was that Dench did nothing to stop the attack. Warboss of the Skraacha had denounced him a traitor to the trog and had him driven out of business, though not one to give in so easily, he's clawing back at every chance to prove himself innocent. With no other legs to stand on, Dench has resorted to shadowrunning in hopes of restoring his reputation.
- Standing 9ft tall before he was 18, his first job was as a bouncer at a club he legally and literally couldn't walk inside.
- Whilst working with the activist Orxploitation singer 'Busted Tusk', he was often involved in photoshoots where he would wield heavy weaponry (which he has no clue how to use).
- Dench is very easily impressed with snippets of poetry or religious texts which he likes to quote.
- He thought they looked cool but didn't want to loose his natural eyes; so Dench got some fake contacts that look like cybereyes instead.
- Earn enough to replace lost income
- Convince others that he is innocent
- Improve skills with practice, enhance with cybernetics and specifically learn how to use heavy weaponry
- Earn the trust of Warboss and the rest of Skraacha once again
- Find and help struggling trogs
- Learn more about religions and literature, discovering more about redemption.
“Dench by name, Dench by nature.”
Max Britvic was born in the Barrens back in 2050, the son of two troll teens meeting each other in a shelter during the Night of Rage. Such an event, so fortunate yet so damned, was akin to a tragedy of Shakespeare, one that held their choice to have a child for an entire decade. “Would it be the right thing to do?” they questioned themselves, before finally answering “Yes.”
Flourishing his speech and writing with as many a metaphor, simile, quote, and reference he can remember, he displayed a slight aptitude for the art of poetry even from a young age but was never schooled properly given his background and by most standards doesn’t know that much. In stark comparison, however, his strength and durability were outstanding even amongst his kin. To work as a dogsbody was probably his destiny, but it has since twisted and spiralled much like his horns growing ever more prominent as he experiences the world, and the world experiences him.
With a good word in from his parents to a friend of theirs, he started earning an actual salary come 18 as a bouncer of all things. His SINless parents didn’t mind breaking the law, so lying a little about his age with his stature at that time was hardly a heartbreak; and it was a good investment too. Always a kindly sir to good patrons of the establishment, he made quite a few friendships. Some with the common folk, others with staff, and most importantly: one or two with singers in the Orxploitation scene that had emerged during his teen years. A certain band called “The Survivors” took such a liking to him that they proposed the offer of a bodyguarding job. Moving his twenties with a new occupation, Max got to enjoy the environment that was the Ork Underground and the many music festivals and concerts that spoke the vox populi.
Max prefers Troll Metal, but was mostly employed by general Goblin Rockers and so came to learn quite a bit about the genre as well as the bars and clubs he’d be attending them in. Possibly the greatest friend he made in this scene was a particularly influential singer who donned the stage name of ‘Busted Tusk’ and made many a powerful statement against the anti-metahuman agenda. The majority of his message was sent in albums and singles and performed on stages, but his activism would extend much further, often violently. Busted Tusk was affiliated with the militant ork gang: the Skraacha, a group he praised for their defiance, as does many a trog, and a portion of Max’s pay came from the groups sponsorship of the singer. It was round about now when Max really got a name for himself… and that name was Dench.
Busted Tusk considered Max as a part of his act, his performance. Busted was an artist and not a band, but his advertisement would often contain the self-selected team of his closest staff and Dench was the name he gave his biggest bodyguard. He was in the interviews, he was thanked after each performance, he was featured in photoshoots and was invited to party nights; when sufficiently safe to do so of course… right?
One fateful night, whilst in a OU penthouse owned by Busted and after a long evening of drinking and drugging it up, a clandestine KE raid on the compound took the relatively understaffed security by surprise and the absolutely hammered Dench was still unconsciously asleep when they kidnapped the activist singer. Like waking up into a nightmare, Dench knew nothing and was left alive to find the message: a Humanis card left where Busted Tusk was sat. He was woken by the late reinforcements from Skraacha who immediately disbelieved the unlikely event and brought Dench in to be questioned and judged. It was deemed impossible for him to have slept through the raid, but given the unlikelihood of him organising it, was not deemed to have sold Busted Tusk out. If Dench was assumed to have conspired with Humanis, it was likely a sentence to death, but the silver lining here is that it’s only his gross incompetence that is being deemed punishable; driving him out of business and vilifying him within the Skraacha and Ork Underground.
The relatively light punishment was the least of his ailments. Dench truly did not see this coming, and he truly lost his friend that day in a horrible manner… and he truly thought it was his fault. A dark gloom now resided over him; his mental state absolutely shattered, drifting towards the contemplation of suicide. Were it not for his supportive mother and the fact that his departed father could not see him fall so far, it could’ve been the end for him. A tremendous burden and guilt now weigh heavy upon his shoulders, but his shoulders were strong, like he. He could carry this, so long as he could make it right, so long as he could find a means of redemption. His friend was likely dead, but Dench could still preserve his message. To try and prevent any other atrocity like this from happening ever again would become his goal alongside regaining the trust of Warboss and the rest of the Skraacha.
He turned to what few people left that trusted him and begged for their help. Roger Hendrix was a patron of the bar Dench first worked at in his youth and knew of his kindness then. Dench knew that he used run himself and that he now fixes work for the Shadowhaven, so he was an immediate port of call for jobs. He had often visited Bonesaw whenever he got messed up, and he too believed that Dench was telling the truth, happy to stitch him up whenever drek hits the fan again. Lastly, his favourite taxi driver – Clyde… didn’t really give a frag. Dench pays his fare and tolerates his fanaticism about hockey, he was good in his books. Lastly, his search for redemption has led him to many a matrix page for confessions to your local church, and whilst he has not yet crammed himself into one of those tiny boxes, he has taken to many a religious teaching to try and rest his mind, though often at the cost of his body. Any priest worth their salt hopefully wouldn’t advise the path a flagellant to a helpless soul, but Dench has only read bits of the Bible and loose scriptures he picks up from the matrix. As far as he is concerned, he deserves every lashing and every scar it’ll leave.
So, with purpose and intention clear, Dench runs in the dark looking for a light.
Narrative Significant Qualities
- Built like a Brick Drekhouse
Toughness comes naturally to a lot of trolls, but this one's even tougher. Compared to most, he is also quite Drug Tolerant.
- And like many of the Tusked, he is Feared
Disgraced by the Skraacha, some of them still quiver in Dench's large shadow.
- Knows his Mothertongue
Dench respects his own culture and is Bilingual in Or'zet and English.
- To be Feared is usually a Bad thing.
The Skraacha consider Dench a Trog Traitor; it's tricky being a trog who's own kin don't trust you.
- Looking for a Spiritual Path through the Darkness
Driven to redeem himself, He seeks even spiritual means to redemption. Pie Iesu Domine, Dona eis requiem is his favourite quote.
- Spare the Tusked
Dench sympathises with his kin, understanding fully why he's been vilified by them. Despite this, they are Favored by him.
- Going Numb
Whilst tolerant against the addiction of many drugs, the usage of them have led to a Reduced Sense of Taste.
|Name||GM||Metaplot||Date of Run|
|That Font Ever Flowing||Archtmag||2 May 2082|
|Bonesaw||4||3||Custom(A,G,K,N)||Street Doc||Street Doc, Combat Medic, Bioware, Cyberlimbs, Cyberware||Even|
|Roger Hendrix||3||3||Fixer||Shop owner/Fixer||Martial Artist, Former Runner, Teacher, Protector of the dowtrodden||Even|
|Clyde||2||1||Service||Taxi Driver||Sports Fan, Druggie, Taxi Driver||Even|
- Not based on any runs yet, but given backstory: Negetive rep with Skraacha. Dench is looking to repair this.
In Character Information
Symbols and Signatures
Matrix Search Table
Shadow Community Table