"Nadahir is good, and you are dead."
SECTION 1
BASIC INFORMATION
FULL NAME: Ivan Terbul
BIRTHDATE: 06/30/1927 CE (90/2/2357 UC)
DEATHDATE: 06/29/1984 CE (89/2/2414 UC) | Age 57
SUBSPECIES: Rubrum
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 6'6"
JOB: Soloviev Mobster
SECTION 2
APPEARANCE
A hulking monster of a man, strong as he is tall. His favorite outfit is a tan, button-up shirt, brownish jeans, and fingerless gloves. He has long, slightly wavy hair and a thick beard.
SECTION 3
PERSONALITY
Ivan is a man of few words, preferring to speak with his fists. He is a devout Nadahirist, known to recite bible verses as he caves in the heads of men and women with his brass knuckles. Although it is well-contained, Ivan is also sadistic and enjoys making others hurt. He especially enjoys instilling the fear of his God into those whom he deems more sinful than himself.
Despite his fanaticism, Ivan is well aware that he is not a good person. He does not expect to go to heaven, yet still walks Lacteal with His words firmly in his head. He secretly hopes for mercy during his final judgement.
SECTION 4
BACKSTORY
When Ivan was young, he had little. He had several older siblings to contend with for love, attention, and food. For as long as he could remember, he knew one truth; violence was the ultimate means of communication. It was only by pushing, shoving, and punching his way to the top that he could go to bed only marginally hungry.
As childhood transitioned to puberty, he became even more violent. There was always an inexplicable rush in hurting another, so he stopped shoving and let his fists alone speak. And they spoke loudly of how good it felt to see pain.
In that time he also found Nadahir, and became entranced by the words of his god. But instead of being a source of moral good, it only emboldened his sadistic tendencies. He was now able to truly justify his actions to himself. He could feel good in mind, body, and spirit as he felt the blood of his fellow man on his knuckles. He was a fanatic in every way of the word, even if he knew deep inside he was a hypocrite. He would eventually come to accept that fact.
By the time Ivan was an adult, he'd fallen in with several gangs. His reputation of being the religious nutcase who belted out bible verses as he shattered bone and will alike. First he was called Brass Ivan, then Nadahir's Devil. Then, in his mid twenties, he'd found a name which truly sticked. The Terrible.
Almost everyone that truly knew Ivan feared him. Many respected him as well, but only the truly foolish harbored no fear in their hearts. Ivan the Terrible was a force of nature, rampaging through Lenipol's underbelly with reckless abandon for years. He seldom chose a side, working for whoever offered the most. It wasn't until the Solovievs came to his city that he found long-term work.
And he was good. He knew full well his mere presence inspired fear, and he was more than intelligent enough to leverage it. He was a brute of few words, yes, but he was also intelligent and observant. Most importantly, he knew what he was and wasn't good at, and he let the best man for any job do so.
He came to be one of Rayko's best, one of the few the big boss could truly rely on for anything and everything...as long as it involved instilling the fear of Nadahir into another's soul.
And that is where it ends, for now. Ivan's story is still being written.