Board Thread:Role Plays (AU)/@comment-13427943-20160126225957/@comment-25389303-20160127194153

"Whether they're aliens or Grimm, it doesn't matter. If it bleeds, then we should be okay," said a large, muscular young man standing near one of the side exits, idly adjusting the silvery-grey metal plates which made up his lower jaw.

"The name's Ulric, by the way. Just point me at the things you want dead, and I'll see it done."

He began checking his equipment - mainly his new suit of armour assigned to him. It was bulky and weighed heavily on his shoulders, but it looked like it would serve its purpose well on the battlefield, if need be. He had decided to name it the Greyhound, after his own nickname, and had it crudely printed in large white letters on the right side of the chestpiece.

He was here to kill aliens, and that was about it. Not only did they pose a threat to his people, but he felt that they presented a challenge he would unlikely find elsewhere. That being said, he had no intention of letting any hostile creature he came across escape alive. After all...

Remnant could hardly stand another invasion of monsters.