Mats Kroos

Background
Mats Kroos is an oddly skeptical member of an obscure death cult that originated from the feral world Gregorn and spread out quickly too many other systems. His skill with a bow is unmatched and he wields his masterfully crafted weapon with a talent unseen by most professionals.

Origin
Mats grew up as part of a nomadic tribe that survived by following the migration paths of Elken, a strange creature related to the Terran deer but far more dangerous. During his younger years he practiced with the hunters until even the elders of the tribe respected him for his unnatural skill and inhuman accuracy. At the age of 14 he was taken on a hunt, one which saw them travel for days in search of prey.

Finally, after it seemed like their search would be in vain, they spotted prey. It was the largest Elken any of them had ever seen and some whispered that such a beast could not have been born of natural means. Stranger still, this beast appeared to live a solitary life unlike the rest of its more pack minded kin. Regardless the hunters decided that it would bring much honor to the slayer of such a beast and one by one they disappeared into the undergrowth.

Mats however swiftly climbed a tree and unlimbered the bow he had made himself in the early hours of the morning. He pulled back on the string but just before he could loose the shot the creature bolted, alerted by the clumsiness of one of the hunters. Not to be deterred, Mats leapt from branch to branch, navigating his way through the forest with the agility of one born to it. After an hour of such travel he found the beast once more grazing within a glade and without further hesitation he pulled back the string and let fly.

The arrow took the creature straight in the neck, sending it to the ground instantly. Silently he cheered but as he went to climb down the tree he saw others emerging from the treeline. Members of a rival clan looking to steal his kill. The men quickly spotted Mats and let fly with spear, sling and arrow with Mats barely escaping unharmed. With a calm much unbecoming of one his age however he drew arrow after arrow and released them straight into the eyes of his would be killers, dropping them one at a time until none remained.

He returned home with his kill and the story of his near death. The tribe was silent as his tale was told but as soon as he was finished a wild cheering filled the glade. The shaman of the tribe insisted that such deeds were an omen that spoke of Mats greatness and he was soon held in reverence by his family. Such reverence was not to last however and upon one fateful night the tribe awoke to find their champion had vanished.

A Mercy Killing
Many claimed the gods had come to return on of their own but the truth was darker still. A death cult, strong on this world, called The Silent Discord had watched Mats and taken him into their fold. They taught him of the Imperium and the enemies that beset it and further instructed him in the sacred art of bloodletting. For many years he practiced until a challenge was set before all members of the cult. A tournament to select the strongest and most skilled of them was to take place and he who won would be raised beyond all belief in the eyes of The Emperor.

Mats fought for many weeks, slaying all who came before him until finally he and the master of his clade were the only ones standing. Members of other clades were silent as they watched and the few survivors prayed for the honorable death of both fighters. The fight lasted for hours, the master and Mats utilizing every trick they knew until eventually the challenge was over and Mats lay defeated on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. The master raised his hands in victory before delivering the final stroke and Mats took this moment to strike. Vengeance filling his heart he clawed forwards and drew the masters knife from his boot before slamming the blade upwards through his leg and into his chest.

The master fell to the ground, dead on the spot and silence filled the arena. Mats felt his vision clouding but before the darkness took him he heard a voice demanding he survive, a voice used to having his orders obeyed without question. Many days later Mats awoke in a sterile, chrome environment that reeked of cleaning fluid. Looking up he saw a hooded man reading a data-slate sat next to his bed. Before he could speak the man looked up and introduced himself as Inquisitor Jericho Cadent. He told Mats that he was to join the Holy Ordos and to spill blood in the name of The Emperor and that no higher honor could be granted.

Mats cares little for the cause however, as long as those whose blood is foul and whose minds are unclean do not get to see another day.