Rull Chrometusk is a large man, even for an Orc. While not tall enough to see exactly eye-to-eye with a Troll, he's certainly tall enough to give them a headbutt if he wanted too give a bit of a jump while he was doing it. That great physical size is coupled with a physique that can best be described as "brick drekhouse." And not that sexy, trid bodybuilder body either, but a working man's body. Which means corded muscles over a thick trunk. Which is a fancy way of saying that Rull looks like he enjoys beer and soyburgers, even while he's dead-lifting the back end of a pickup truck. Which, to be fair, he does. Grease stains and other less wholesome fluids often stain his clothing, which is more often than not more ruggedly functional than stylish. A shaved head, and extensive sentimental tattoos complete this savage look.

Rull Chrometusk is a man of extremes in all things. Which is partially not his fault. Either way, when the big man is in the room, you know it. Loud, boisterous, and unwilling to be cowed, his forceful personality serves him well in most situations. Whether he is fighting some nasty corp security, or cancelling his trid subscription. Which isn't to say that the man is uncaring or incapable of subtlety. It's just that he's lived a hard life, and doesn't have time to mess about. He has little patience for drek. Lies, senseless cruelty, and disrespect are the holy trinity of pet peeves that can send him over the edge.

The story of Rull Chrometusk is a common one. Though, despite his familiar origins, the fiery Freelancer distinguishes himself from the pack with sheer style and bravado. There are many Orcs in the world. There are many gangers in major cities. There are many city-born gangers that transition into the dangerous world of Freelancing. And yet, when Rull is on a Job, people take notice when he begins the muscle work.

Rull came by his street name honestly, as he likes to say.

Born Rull Molina, the son of a slum joygirl Kemdu Molina, Rull never knew who his father was. It could have been anyone. Not that the Orc was ever ashamed of his mother's work. It kept food on the table, and a leaky roof over their heads in the Squatter's Row. But Rull loves his mother fiercely, and wouldn't trade their years together for all the Credits in the world.

As such things go, Rull fell in with a gang in order to survive the dangers of the streets, and to pull together a little extra scratch for his aging mother, who wasn't pulling in clients like she used too. Rull was lucky in that he fell in with a relatively good and hardworking gang: the War Boyz. For more than a half-a-decade, he acted as a soldier for the Orc gang. Leg breaking, protection, and smuggling were his daily trade. It was with his fellow Boyz that he earned the street name "Chrometusk." It all started one night when he got into a scrap with a Bugbear who knocked his tusks out. Rull picked them up and stabbed the Bugbear with them, before getting his broken tusks capped by fancy chrome replacements a few days later...all these things inevitably stuck him with the moniker.

But it quickly became clear when he got into his twenties that he was never going to rise higher within the gang. He's just not a leader. Damn good fighter, but not one to pull strings. And so he started looking into alternate revenue streams, despite remaining with the gang. Perhaps a little too late however, as his mother passed on from old age two weeks after his twentieth birthday. Greatly saddened, Rull nonetheless soldiered on, and looked to better his own life. A fortuitous meeting in The Morgue led to a meeting with one Vaethia Toranarlal. An Elven megacorp expat, Vaethia was a hell of a businesswoman with a nose for talent and a punk streak a mile wide. Seeing a great Freelancer in the making in Rull, the fierce woman offered to show the Orc the ropes, and act as his fixer.