Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Jun 11, 2011 0:37:08 GMT -5
Password: Trouble with tribbles
Name: Ervisa Therani
Age: 34
Race: Mirialan
Birth place: Mirial
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 142 lbs
Eye Color: Gray (flecked with blue)
Hair Color: Black.
Appearance:
Ervisa has green skin in a vivid shade best described as emerald. She has traditional Mirialan dark blue tattoos on her skin. A single large triangular tattoo is on her chin, stopping with its point just below her lip. The other facial tattoos are smaller triangles, which trail down her cheekbones and along her neck, meeting the tattoos from her arms at her shoulders. Her hands are not tattooed
Her hair is long, and a beautiful raven color, glossy and vibrant. Ervisa used to keep it in a long braid every day, but since the advent of a new life, she only braids her hair when going into battle. Normally she keeps it loose, and occasionally pulled into a ponytail.
Ervisa's eyes are a very placid gray, flecked with vibrant blue, giving her a uniquely vivid look in moments of joy and delight. Her facial features are rather sharp and her jaw is somewhat sharp as well, but she is still very attractive in a unique way, with an appeal far from classic, but not any less real.
The Mirialan woman can often be found in a green flight suit and sturdy boots when on duty, though often the top of the suit is opened, revealing a blue tank top. In more casual settings she can be found wearing utility pants in earth tones, and whimsically colored tank tops. The one pair of constants are her lightsaber clipped to a belt, and a real RA-29 blaster pistol, picked up used at a pawn shop for a steal.
However, increasingly Ervisa dresses more casually, and can be found on the beach in a bikini, or wandering around in shorts and sandals. Halter tops and sundresses have found their way into her wardrobe, and she's actually begun making a concerted effort to dress nicely.
She never strays far from her Bird, an RR-7700 Rapid Response Helicopter. It is her pride and joy, and she loves it like the child that she will never have if the universe even remotely cares about child welfare. However, she also flies strategic bombers for Spearpoint.
Personality:
Ervisa Therani is the woman who has seen and done everything. She's drunk to drown on every ocean she's been, and experienced every kind of sensation in the galaxy. It has left a unique impression on her to have such a breadth of experience, and not all of it was good.
The Mirialan woman has a lot of experiences in her life that she isn't keen to talk about or let others know. Prostitute, drug addict, alcoholic, failed Jedi. From the way she's singularly failed at life to the worst moment, when her Padawan was killed due to her own failure, Ervisa looks back on the past with shame and a desire to forget it. Usually she's drowned that desire in sex and substances, but now she is hovering at the cusp of a new life.
For the first time, Ervisa has found herself in a relationship, with Horst Stellar, a fellow mercenary with Spearpoint. It's a surprising taste of normalcy she never thought she'd get, and she's both terrified by it and enthralled by it. The simple sensation of being deeply loved by another person is something she relishes, but the idea of being a mother and washing dishes and clothes is something she finds rather alarming.
For an ex-Jedi, Ervisa has a remarkably poor control of life, and she's been buffeted by the wind like a ship blown from its moorings. She tends to react rather than planning anything, which is a flaw she has been unable to control. She both longs for something better, and is afraid of settling or falling short.
What she wants deep down is to return to the Jedi, but deeper still, she wants to have a home again.
Ervisa has been wandering for far too long, and she simply wants to stop and settle down. The problem is, she's not sure what she wants, and she needs someone to guide her on the way. The complication is that she's not exactly amenable to being guided in a direction she's frightened to travel.
However, the Mirialan pilot isn't entirely full of anxiety and addictions. When not haunted, she is generally rather witty, cheerful, and full of jokes and humor. She is usually very likable, the type of woman people take to immediately. Some might find her frivolous nature to be annoying, but most find her carefree facade to be enjoyable.
Profession: Grey Jedi, Bush Pilot, Pilot
Skills:
Skilled pilot, Gambler, Cook
Previous Faction: Jedi (Guardian)
Mastery Level: Knight
Lightsaber: Single blade, single phase.
(No credit to me.)
Color: Navy blue.
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 5
Shien / Djem So 5
>>Sub-form Backhanded 4
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Specialized Skills:
Telekinetic: 3
Telepathic: 2
Body: 6
Sense: 6
Protection: 3
Healing: 1
Destruction: 0
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 7
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 6
Force Attunement: +1
Bio:
Like most Mirialans, Ervisa was born on Mirial. She was taken into the Jedi Order only a few months after birth, and never knew her family at all. They were very poor, and were one of the numerous wage-slave families on the planet. Both worked long days in factories of the Capitol City, and Ervisa was an unfortunate accident. The Mirialan belief that every person's actions caused destiny to be shaped meant they were reluctant to terminate the pregnancy. They trusted to fate, and the initial hospital test revealed the child was force sensitive. The Jedi Order was contacted, and the Jedi Watchman took the infant back to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.
Unsurprisingly, she never had any further contact with her family.
Therani literally grew up holding a lightsaber, and proved to be one of the top swordsmen in her age group, and definitely the best in her Youngling Clan. She was frequently pitted against older students to balance the training of her own peers. From the very beginning she obviously had the potential to be a Guardian. She trusted the Jedi Code, but didn't have much patience or desire to understand all the mysteries of the force. For her it was always the sparring match and the physical aspects of the force that drove her. She enjoyed the more simplistic ideas of good against evil, and loved knowing that at the end of the day the good guys would always win and the bad guys would always lose. And she wanted to be the good guy without a flicker of doubt in her young mind.
She was a happy child, friend to everyone and enemy to no one. She wasn't truly 'eccentric' yet, but she did have a well-developed sense of humor. It was hard to be a prankster among Jedi, but she was able to pull off a few in her day. It won her the occasional talking-to. She was admonished to spend more time in her studies and less time 'goofing off.' It was advice she took to heart, and she redoubled her efforts.
Lightsaber practice was always the highlight of her day. Her flexibility, her grace, and her mobility gave her great advantages naturally, ones that she used gratefully.
However, she wasn't the best. There were other Younglings who balanced the Force with their bladework much better than she did. It made her self-conscious, and it was hard not to be jealous. She also had difficulty being 'crafty' with her lightsaber. She could spot tricks and feints most of the time, but her own attempts were painfully transparent.
She quietly hoped the Force would see fit to send her a swordsman to mentor her.
Ervisa's wishes came true. The Mirialan Youngling was selected at the age of 12 to be Padawan to a young Echani Knight by the name of Yarni. They shared the same passion for swordsmanship and the artistry of the lightsaber. It was the exact reason he selected her. He'd watched the various Youngling competitions, and he'd had his eye on here the whole time.
It was his goal in training to broaden her horizons, and to show her a whole new world of saber combat. He succeeded.
When exposed to other lightsaber forms, Shii Cho seemed clumsy to her. She was disappointed, and felt largely as if she'd squandered her efforts previously on a 'less worthy' form. But Yarni made it interesting for her. He refined it into an artful simplicity that helped her truly learn it well. He also showed her each of the forms and allowed her to choose which appealed most to her. She chose Shien/Djem So.
She considered the style to be the ultimate in dueling. The counterattacks, the swift and decisive nature, turning a parry into a cut, and pressing the attack; it all inspired her. The minimalist movements of Soresu and elegance of Makashi didn�t capture her interest. She knew what she wanted and took the direct approach. The shortest distance between two points was always a straight line, and that was her preferred approach to problems.
Yarni refined her somewhat, and helped her overcome the linear simplicity of Djem So by adding his own unique style into the mix. He made every movement more fluid. Cuts gained speed without sacrificing power. Finesse was added, and the blade was used like an artist's brush.
Though her style never began to approach the sophistication and class of Makashi, she was able to turn her Djem So into a graceful series of movements rather than a clumsy use of raw power in the way she'd started with. Yarni turned her into more than a swordsman, he turned her into a duelist.
However, while Yarni was kind to her, puberty was not. Ervisa was as skinny as a rail, without noticeable curves, and an angular face with sharp features. At that age she was grateful that relationships were forbidden for Jedi, because if she'd been looking for one, she never would have gotten one.
The majority of the missions they undertook were based on protecting others and on solving problems. Generally the kind of problems like pirates, rampaging animals, and a Dark Jedi on one occasion.
That occasion came three years prior to her Knighting ceremony. She was 20 years old, and already very skilled with a blade. She�d mastered Shii Cho entirely and was almost to that point with Djem So.
Rumors had emerged about a pair of Dark Jedi hiding on Bestine IV, and the duo of Guardians easily tracked them to a small rocky island. With no way out, the Dark Jedi fought fiercely. But they were no match for Ervisa and Yarni. The two Guardians beat back their attacks easily, and even used it as a chance to practice. Ervisa was toying with her vastly outclassed opponent, like it was just a game. He was younger than she was, and less talented. Despite all his hate and anger he wasn't remotely comparable to her. She outclassed him easily. Finally she ended the game with a powerful back-handed strike that cut her opponent almost in two.
That was the achievement that 'earned' her the tattoos on the right side of her face, joining the ones on the left stemming from her selection as Padawan.
As she gained more experience, she also found a serious disadvantage. The Mirialan Jedi discovered she was bad at fighting droids. Very bad at fighting droids. She wound up facing off with a trio of ResCorp combat droids, models a good deal taller than her. Their rate of fire was tremendous, and she simply couldn't block all of the shots. She was skilled in Shien, but not skilled enough. Against that volume of fire her defenses were overwhelmed, and she started to take hits. First in the shoulder, then in the thigh, then in the stomach. She collapsed to the ground, certain of her own death.
Luckily for her, Yarni arrived at her side. He dispatched the droids and provided what healing he could. He managed to preserve Ervisa's life until she could make it to a medical facility and some quality time with kolto.
Surviving the injury earned her a few more tattoos, and counted as her Trial of the Flesh.
The other Trials went much easier since they didn't involve pain. In fact, her bravery as a Padawan qualified as her Trial of Courage. It was blessedly one less thing to do.
Her Trial of Skill was almost a formality in her eyes... up until she actually took it. She'd been under the illusion that fighting a simulacrum of a Dark Jedi would be easier than fighting the real thing. She was wrong. Knowing she had an aptitude for lightsabers, they made incredibly sure that her Force powers were stretched as well. They kept the playing field constantly moving, changing up the environment rapidly as instructors threw objects at her to simulate an opponent's telekinesis. She was almost knocked over what seemed like a dozen times, and the simulated enemy didn't go easy on her. It was easily the hardest fight she'd ever been in. Luckily, her Shien was up to the task of diverting blows, and her Djem So was able to switch over to a sustained offense that ended when she cut out its legs and jabbed her blade into its chest. It had taken at least twenty minutes, but Ervisa had lost track. She hadn't even noticed she'd exerted herself until it was over. Then she realized she was dripping with sweat and her limbs felt weak. She'd passed the trial though, and that made it worth the while. Now she was ready for her last trial.
This came unexpectedly, while meditating on Rhen Var. She'd stopped off at the Enclave there for rest alongside her Master, and much to her surprise her restful meditation had taken a much darker turn. A disturbing turn.
She saw herself in a vision, standing over a shadowy figure in a jungle. The heat and the humidity were oppressive, and the rotting smell of decay was in her nose, smothering her. The figure was unarmed, and helpless. He was her prisoner, clad in shadow and blackness. She couldn't tell who or what he was, but she could see his eyes. They pleaded with her, begged her to spare his life. And with a scream Ervisa beheaded the prisoner, watching his lifeless body fall to the ground as his head came to a stop before her, eyes staring up in shock. It showed her exactly what she was capable of without discipline. It was worrying, and ultimately it was a vision of a possible future. One that did not come to pass.
She came back to her conscious state, hearing her name called. Suddenly she was aware her body was drenched in sweat and her master was staring at her with a worried expression, asking what was wrong.
It was tempting to lie, to say everything was fine. But that would have been pointless, it was obvious she was rattled. But at the same time she was reluctant to describe the fact she'd just had a vision of her murdering someone. So she opted for a neutral response. She mentioned she had a vision, and that it was negative. Then she asked what to do. Yarni advised her it had to mean something, and that it was up to her to interpret it.
She chose to see it as a call to action, and to be mindful of her feelings. It was a warning of what could happen if she slipped. And a serious enough warning to merit her constant attention. She told her master fully what she'd seen and how she understood it. He was pleased.
When it was clear Ervisa knew the meaning, she was Knighted. And with that formal ceremony, she became a Jedi Knight in full standing with the Order. Then she took her largest tattoo yet, a navy blue triangle composed of smaller triangles on her chin, the tip of which rested just below her lip.
Ervisa had elected to become a Guardian. It was a natural fit for her. Her 'good guys and bad guys' mentality, skill with a blade, and dedication to service secured her that place.
She didn't grow complacent with her role as a Knight however, and she took a Padawan a single year later after intense training by herself.
He was a 13 year old Twi'lek named Bola'attuna, who had a good deal more balance between force powers and saber skills. Ervisa saw the chance to help him overcome his shyness and teach him to use a lightsaber properly. And she did.
Over the course of five years, she raised his Shii Cho skills to a very respectable level, and even tried introducing him to Shien. He didn't take well to it, so she delayed it until the last few years of training and tried to help him learn Soresu essentially by himself.
The Masters assigned her missions based on her strengths, and the result was that she did very much the same things she had done as a Padawan. Protecting others. Battling foes of various kinds.
Throughout it all, she grew closer and closer to her Padawan. He was like a little brother to her, one she taught carefully and found patience for despite her own increasing independence. The Mirialan Jedi found herself enjoying her time away from the Temple almost a little too much at times, and she discovered she was a very skilled pilot and could 'talk the talk' with people on the fringe. Bola Attuna kept her on the straight and narrow though and gave her a sense of purpose.
It was in her twenties that another facet of growth came. Ervisa's intensive physical exercise had left her in great shape, and she had been finally allotted modest curves that left her an attractive woman, in her own way.
Ervisa's decision to leave the Jedi came after a pivotal moment in her life. That moment was the death of her Padawan. Bola'attuna, the now-18 year old Twi'lek who had been her most steadfast friend as well as her student joined her fighting a Dark Jedi who had been cornered on Felucia.
In an almost comical turn of events, the Mirialan was flipped end over end by a force wave and tossed into a translucent pitcher plant. While she struggled to free herself, Bola was forced to face down the superior foe by himself. But his fledgling Soresu was no match for the Dark Jedi's elegant Makashi. The red blade ran him through, and he collapsed to the ground.
The Knight broke free of the plant, slicing through with her saber and charged her foe with a powerful back-handed Djem So assault. She beat down her foe with every bit of power she had. In a swift movement she lopped off both his hands and kicked him to the ground.
Immediately the Dark Jedi held up his arms and surrendered. He knew the Jedi wouldn't kill him. And he was right. She recognized this now, her Trial of the Spirit come to life. She was careful not to let the dark vision come to pass though, and she didn't lop off her enemy's head the way she wanted to.
Instead, she ran to Bola's side and kneeled by him, cradling his head in her arms as he lived his last few minutes. Very few words were spoken, but the message through his eyes was clear as the light went out of them. He was sorry. Sorry he'd failed his master. And she was sorry, sorry she'd failed her apprentice. Sorry she had to let the one who killed him live.
She bound the prisoner carefully before gathering together what fuel she could, and then laid out her Padawan on a funeral pyre. Despite the rules against attachment and the exhortations against missing and mourning the dead to an unhealthy degree, she did mourn. And it was to an unhealthy degree. She grieved deeply, and in her black and white vision that wasn't acceptable for a Jedi. Jedi were noble heroes who didn't let their emotions rule the day. They didn't let attachments hold them down. But she did. She'd loved her Padawan like a brother, and she couldn't come to terms with his death. Every time she thought about it she was torn between tears and fury. Stifling them was damned hard. Too hard for her, and she seethed about it.
The entire trip back she didn't say a word to the Dark Jedi prisoner. She handed him over to the authorities upon reaching the temple, then she handed over her lightsaber to the masters and announced she was leaving the Order. It was a decision she'd reached on her trip, possibly quite rashly. But she couldn't be dissuaded. Her mind was made up.
In her mind, the 'good guys' had just lost. The bad guy was alive, the good guy had died. And the Jedi way was mercy. She couldn't bring herself to violate it, but she couldn't live with it either. The memories of her Padawan were too strong at the Temple.
It was time to chart her own course in life.
In her first days outside of the Jedi Order, the Mirialan wandered aimlessly on Coruscant. She managed to pick up a few credits doing odd jobs, which she promptly used gambling. She didn't care about 'wise' use. She wandered and lived on a whim, and she 'felt' like gambling. So she did. She caught on fast, and with her own skills and the slight �edge� the Force gave her, she was able to exponentially increase her funds at the various casinos and betting parlors.
She bought herself a new wardrobe based on what looked practical and comfortable. Without her lightsaber, she also bought a blaster pistol and a gun belt for it. She wanted to have something on-hand for defensive purposes, and she also really liked the look of the gunbelt. She simply wantedit, so she bought it. Then she booked passage off the planet, and headed for the Outer Rim.
She wandered without purpose for years. She served on a dozen freighter crews, doing everything from cook to her own job of choice: pilot. She even found the opportunity to add a few more tattoos.
The only two stories which were truly noteworthy, and which occasionally make dubiously accurate appearances in her tales, were an encounter with Dark Jedi and a prison sentence on Rodia.
Early on after leaving the Order, Ervisa had been operating as member of a freighter crew hauling some regional freight and passengers between Yavin and Bonadan when they ran afoul of a few Dark Jedi seeking passage. They bullied their way past the other crew members through threats or mind tricks, but Ervisa wasn�t some weak-minded grunt. She was a former Jedi. Unfortunately, her now-impressive skills with a blaster still wouldn�t be enough to overcome a well-handled lightsaber, certainly not three of them.
The Dark Jedi loudly demanded she provide both food and entertainment on the flight. Lacking any other option, the Mirialan did. She served up the best meal she could make and carried out an impromptu stand-up comedy routine that was met with only mild amusement, despite a brilliant impression of a Sand Person from Tatooine and the current Chancellor of the Republic.
It was that incident which inspired her to build another lightsaber, in case she ran afoul of more Dark Jedi. Over the course of two months she expertly assembled one, proving she hadn't lost her touch. With a little practice, she was back to her top form and ready for anything.
The weapon did draw attention as she was obviously not a Jedi. When asked about it she responded the same way as she did to inquiries about her tattoos. Namely, she lied through her teeth. The most amusing lies she concocted were "I'm the Jedi Grandmaster in disguise on a secret mission to destroy the Sith," and "its not a lightsaber, its a lighter for my cigars."
The prison term was another example of things beyond her control going disastrously wrong. She was the pilot onboard a smuggler's ship called The Merchant of Menace. As the ship's name would suggest, the Captain's cargo of choice was weaponry. Unfortunately for them, the Rodian government wasn't quite so keen on the idea of a few hundred blaster rifles and thermal detonators winding up on their planet in the hands of criminals. The second the ship touched down, they were raided and the cache was discovered. Everyone from the Skipper to the Cook was sentenced to 20 years. No exceptions. And Ervisa's attempt to persuade the Rodian government that she was really an Alderaanian princess on a diplomatic mission waylaid by the forces of darkness didn't go over well. Regrettably they also refused to consider it an acceptable psychiatric defense.
Luckily, the Mirialan was able to reduce her time behind bars to one year. She tunneled out of prison using a spoon, a pair of panties, and a year of digging.
She climbed up from the tunnel just outside the wall, stopping quickly at the impound area to recover her possessions, then beat a guard unconscious, stole a speeder, and headed for the nearest spaceport.
She stopped off at a cantina first, drinking her fill and gambling for passage off the planet. When security forces hot on her tail raided the establishment, she ducked into the bathroom and used her lightsaber to cut into the bakery next door. She pocketed as many sweet rolls as she could carry before slicing through another wall into the street and running like hell to the right docking bay.
Her life ever since leaving the Order had been six years of wandering and drifting from job to job. And she was content with that. She gained interesting stories and life experiences, some experiences that hurt her badly.
Ervisa was a stranger to affairs of the heart, a relic of her Jedi days. Just because she'd had intimacy so many times didn't mean she'd ever had a relationship, or a true romantic interest. Her only frame of reference for love was cheap fiction and the holodramas catering to housewives, which set her up for a fall. The seed that was planted into that soil was on Cato Neimoidia, when she met Asyr Yevor. He was dashing and debonair, and very similar to her in certain ways. She recognized in him the closest to a kindred spirit she'd ever see, and even after they parted ways it gnawed at her mind and she became increasingly convinced that the connection between them was destiny, and that she had the makings of one of those love stories.
She was wrong. When she finally confessed her feelings she was met with a polite rejection that shredded her heart, and seeing him promptly slide into the arms of another woman solidified her agony. Ervisa slipped away from her crew on the city planet of Coruscant and promptly headed to the bar, but her old pastime of singing drunken lullabies to ease her pain didn't solve her problems. Desperate for some stronger medicine, she tried spice for the first time. As an addictive personality, it was a one hit wonder and she became an addict.
Spice was the downward spiral that brought Ervisa to the darkest and most desolate point in her life, a stretch just as bad as her days just after leaving the Jedi Order, but compounded by the effects the drugs had on her. Her senses were dulled, and gambling only succeeded in taking away her credits. Work was impossible to find, as no one hired a pilot whose hands shook with bleary eyes. She was obviously a junkie, and no one trusted her skills. The Mirialan woman was desperate, without money or hope, so she turned her one remaining asset into a source of income: her body. She became a prostitute, which was the lowest she could sink.
And then she gave up hope.
Hope wasn't restored for three months, when a woman named Naavechi inspired Ervisa to seek help for her addiction, after a mysterious stranger left her with a surplus of credits. The Mirialan woman entered rehab, and when she emerged, she bought a one-way ticket to the Outer Rim.
Ervisa settled on the planet of Oatara, where she quickly found herself a bird and a hangar to operate out of, running a helicopter service for herself.
RP Sample:
Ervisa Therani moved slowly in a circle, holding her lightsaber in a back-handed Djem So stance, ready to strike toward the Dark Jedi in front of her. He was shrouded in robes, the glint of his eyes the only thing visible of his face. Even in the sweltering heat and humidity of Felucia he seemed at ease in the black robes.
In contrast, the Mirialan Jedi was sweating in her own minimal Jedi robes. She wanted the fight to begin and end quickly. But a token sense of what 'was' and 'was not' appropriate told her taking the first swing wouldn't be kosher. "ust drop your lightsaber and come along quietly. It'll be a lot easier than killing you.�
The Dark Jedi chuckled. �Such bluster. Typical of the Jedi. And too weak to cast the first strike? That also means you�re too weak to cast the last strike.�
Off to the side, Bola Attuna, Ervisa�s Padawan, shot back with his own retort. �It takes more strength to not fight a battle. You can�t control your own passions, how can you control anything else if you can�t control yourself?�
Without warning, the Dark Jedi shoved the Twi�lek Padawan with the force, and sent him flying backwards. In the same movement he sprung forward with his lightsaber drawn, swinging at the Mirialan�s extremities. It was a strike easily cast aside with the mere flick of the wrist, and the energy from it was directed into a powerful cut from Ervisa�s blue lightsaber. It cut through thin air though as the Dark Jedi ducked under the blade in a quick roll. Though he avoided the blade, he didn�t avoid a boot to the face that sent him reeling back. But from his position on the ground, he sent a massive wave of force energy at the Jedi. She was caught off balance and sent flying through the air.
She righted herself in the movement, but couldn�t control her landing. She hit the opening of a large pitcher plant and tumbled inside it. If not for what happened a short while later, that would have been the worst experience in her life. The stickiness of the plant, the dank humidity of the interior, and the nauseating smell were enough to make her sick. Through its translucent shell she could see her foe and her apprentice dueling now. Bola was a tolerable swordsman, but no match for a full-fledged Dark Jedi. He needed her help, and needed it immediately.
Ervisa fumbled around the plant in search of her lightsaber, igniting it and starting to cut open a door in the plant. The figures of the two duelists were perfectly clear, and a moment before the door was complete, Ervisa saw a flash of red, and the blade of the Dark Jedi�s lightsaber extending out of Bola�s back. He�d been run through completely.
�NO!� She screamed, both shock and denial in her voice. It couldn�t happen. She�d put so much effort into his training, she was confident in him. She needed him for guidance as much as he needed her.
With a desperate and frantic desire to end the fight and rush to Bola�s side, Ervisa leapt into action. She didn�t give the Dark Jedi time to use more force powers. She rained down an avalanche of powerful overhead blows, forcing him back steadily. She switched fluidly to a back-handed grip and swung against her enemy�s blade with all her might. He tried to disengage, but she spun his blade harder and brought it around a full a 360 degrees, snapping his wrist. And with another strike she sliced through both his hands.
As she lifted her saber for a killing blow that would split him in two, the Dark Jedi held his arms to the side and said one word that froze her. �Mercy.�
Therani flashed back to her Trial of the Spirit years ago, a meditation on Rhen Var. And she noticed every detail of that vision was the same. The shadowy figure disarmed before her, the moist heat of the jungle planet, and even her own emotions. But there was one more difference. The Jedi in the vision had decapitated the prisoner. The Jedi in the flesh deactivated her lightsaber and settled for kicking the Dark Jedi in the chest. �Run and I kill you.� She warned, though running off into the depths of Felucia without hands was an equally lethal prospect.
She jogged over to her Padawan�s still form on the ground, and kneeled by his side, cradling his head in her arms as she heard his ragged breathing coming in short spurts. Not even the greatest Jedi Healer could save him. Not now.
Tears filled her gray eyes as she held him, realizing just how badly she�d failed him.
�I�m� sorry master� I failed�� The Twi�lek coughed as he whispered his apologies, the color draining from his blue skin at a frightening rate.
Ervisa shook her head from side to side. �No, I�m the one who failed. Forgive me Bola� Forgive me for letting this happen.�
�There is� nothing to forgive�� The Padawan�s voice failed and his head tilted back. As the light faded from his eyes, Ervisa�s tears stained her tattooed face.
�May the Force be with you� brother.� She choked over her farewell, and collapsed over his body in grief. She remained in that position for what seemed like hours, tears staining her face and the robes of her deceased Padawan.
Years Later
Ervisa peered out the window of her bird as she circled over a clearing. Sure enough, there were more than a few predators down there staring up, clearly hoping she was the delivery-woman there to drop off dinner.
The Mirialan woman peered back into the passenger compartment of her RR-7700 helicopter and yelled back to the hunters, who seemed rather nonchalant about the fact the predators on the ground wanted to eat every last one of them.
"Hey, you guys aren't getting set down in grid square 136A, I'm taking you to the back-up site."
"Why?"
Ervisa glanced back at the instruments and banked into a wide course heading for the other site before she turned her head again as she held the helicopter on a steady course. "Because there's about a hundred glow wolves down there and four of you in here."
"Hey, we're hunters. We can handle ourselves."
The pilot peered over her aviator sunglasses and fixed the man who'd spoke with a gaze. "Look hon, I get paid for roundtrip flights. You're asking for a one-way now. We're bugging out and heading down to safer pastures. End of story."
Green hands applied pressure to the stick as feet found the rudder pedals, and the helicopter fell into a final course straight past some of the most lovely scenery to be found in the Outer Rim.
"You don't seem to understand greenie, we're the best hunters from Agamar."
Ervisa didn't turn her head as she answered. "You're not on Agamar anymore, you're on Oatara. That means you play by Oatara rules. Rule number one, listen to the Green Lady who flies the helicopter. Rule two, see rule one."
Name: Ervisa Therani
Age: 34
Race: Mirialan
Birth place: Mirial
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 142 lbs
Eye Color: Gray (flecked with blue)
Hair Color: Black.
Appearance:
Ervisa has green skin in a vivid shade best described as emerald. She has traditional Mirialan dark blue tattoos on her skin. A single large triangular tattoo is on her chin, stopping with its point just below her lip. The other facial tattoos are smaller triangles, which trail down her cheekbones and along her neck, meeting the tattoos from her arms at her shoulders. Her hands are not tattooed
Her hair is long, and a beautiful raven color, glossy and vibrant. Ervisa used to keep it in a long braid every day, but since the advent of a new life, she only braids her hair when going into battle. Normally she keeps it loose, and occasionally pulled into a ponytail.
Ervisa's eyes are a very placid gray, flecked with vibrant blue, giving her a uniquely vivid look in moments of joy and delight. Her facial features are rather sharp and her jaw is somewhat sharp as well, but she is still very attractive in a unique way, with an appeal far from classic, but not any less real.
The Mirialan woman can often be found in a green flight suit and sturdy boots when on duty, though often the top of the suit is opened, revealing a blue tank top. In more casual settings she can be found wearing utility pants in earth tones, and whimsically colored tank tops. The one pair of constants are her lightsaber clipped to a belt, and a real RA-29 blaster pistol, picked up used at a pawn shop for a steal.
However, increasingly Ervisa dresses more casually, and can be found on the beach in a bikini, or wandering around in shorts and sandals. Halter tops and sundresses have found their way into her wardrobe, and she's actually begun making a concerted effort to dress nicely.
She never strays far from her Bird, an RR-7700 Rapid Response Helicopter. It is her pride and joy, and she loves it like the child that she will never have if the universe even remotely cares about child welfare. However, she also flies strategic bombers for Spearpoint.
Personality:
Ervisa Therani is the woman who has seen and done everything. She's drunk to drown on every ocean she's been, and experienced every kind of sensation in the galaxy. It has left a unique impression on her to have such a breadth of experience, and not all of it was good.
The Mirialan woman has a lot of experiences in her life that she isn't keen to talk about or let others know. Prostitute, drug addict, alcoholic, failed Jedi. From the way she's singularly failed at life to the worst moment, when her Padawan was killed due to her own failure, Ervisa looks back on the past with shame and a desire to forget it. Usually she's drowned that desire in sex and substances, but now she is hovering at the cusp of a new life.
For the first time, Ervisa has found herself in a relationship, with Horst Stellar, a fellow mercenary with Spearpoint. It's a surprising taste of normalcy she never thought she'd get, and she's both terrified by it and enthralled by it. The simple sensation of being deeply loved by another person is something she relishes, but the idea of being a mother and washing dishes and clothes is something she finds rather alarming.
For an ex-Jedi, Ervisa has a remarkably poor control of life, and she's been buffeted by the wind like a ship blown from its moorings. She tends to react rather than planning anything, which is a flaw she has been unable to control. She both longs for something better, and is afraid of settling or falling short.
What she wants deep down is to return to the Jedi, but deeper still, she wants to have a home again.
Ervisa has been wandering for far too long, and she simply wants to stop and settle down. The problem is, she's not sure what she wants, and she needs someone to guide her on the way. The complication is that she's not exactly amenable to being guided in a direction she's frightened to travel.
However, the Mirialan pilot isn't entirely full of anxiety and addictions. When not haunted, she is generally rather witty, cheerful, and full of jokes and humor. She is usually very likable, the type of woman people take to immediately. Some might find her frivolous nature to be annoying, but most find her carefree facade to be enjoyable.
Profession: Grey Jedi, Bush Pilot, Pilot
Skills:
Skilled pilot, Gambler, Cook
Previous Faction: Jedi (Guardian)
Mastery Level: Knight
Lightsaber: Single blade, single phase.
(No credit to me.)
Color: Navy blue.
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 5
Shien / Djem So 5
>>Sub-form Backhanded 4
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Specialized Skills:
Telekinetic: 3
Telepathic: 2
Body: 6
Sense: 6
Protection: 3
Healing: 1
Destruction: 0
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 7
Leadership: 4
Unarmed: 6
Melee Weapons: 1
Ranged Weapons: 6
Force Attunement: +1
Bio:
Like most Mirialans, Ervisa was born on Mirial. She was taken into the Jedi Order only a few months after birth, and never knew her family at all. They were very poor, and were one of the numerous wage-slave families on the planet. Both worked long days in factories of the Capitol City, and Ervisa was an unfortunate accident. The Mirialan belief that every person's actions caused destiny to be shaped meant they were reluctant to terminate the pregnancy. They trusted to fate, and the initial hospital test revealed the child was force sensitive. The Jedi Order was contacted, and the Jedi Watchman took the infant back to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.
Unsurprisingly, she never had any further contact with her family.
Therani literally grew up holding a lightsaber, and proved to be one of the top swordsmen in her age group, and definitely the best in her Youngling Clan. She was frequently pitted against older students to balance the training of her own peers. From the very beginning she obviously had the potential to be a Guardian. She trusted the Jedi Code, but didn't have much patience or desire to understand all the mysteries of the force. For her it was always the sparring match and the physical aspects of the force that drove her. She enjoyed the more simplistic ideas of good against evil, and loved knowing that at the end of the day the good guys would always win and the bad guys would always lose. And she wanted to be the good guy without a flicker of doubt in her young mind.
She was a happy child, friend to everyone and enemy to no one. She wasn't truly 'eccentric' yet, but she did have a well-developed sense of humor. It was hard to be a prankster among Jedi, but she was able to pull off a few in her day. It won her the occasional talking-to. She was admonished to spend more time in her studies and less time 'goofing off.' It was advice she took to heart, and she redoubled her efforts.
Lightsaber practice was always the highlight of her day. Her flexibility, her grace, and her mobility gave her great advantages naturally, ones that she used gratefully.
However, she wasn't the best. There were other Younglings who balanced the Force with their bladework much better than she did. It made her self-conscious, and it was hard not to be jealous. She also had difficulty being 'crafty' with her lightsaber. She could spot tricks and feints most of the time, but her own attempts were painfully transparent.
She quietly hoped the Force would see fit to send her a swordsman to mentor her.
Ervisa's wishes came true. The Mirialan Youngling was selected at the age of 12 to be Padawan to a young Echani Knight by the name of Yarni. They shared the same passion for swordsmanship and the artistry of the lightsaber. It was the exact reason he selected her. He'd watched the various Youngling competitions, and he'd had his eye on here the whole time.
It was his goal in training to broaden her horizons, and to show her a whole new world of saber combat. He succeeded.
When exposed to other lightsaber forms, Shii Cho seemed clumsy to her. She was disappointed, and felt largely as if she'd squandered her efforts previously on a 'less worthy' form. But Yarni made it interesting for her. He refined it into an artful simplicity that helped her truly learn it well. He also showed her each of the forms and allowed her to choose which appealed most to her. She chose Shien/Djem So.
She considered the style to be the ultimate in dueling. The counterattacks, the swift and decisive nature, turning a parry into a cut, and pressing the attack; it all inspired her. The minimalist movements of Soresu and elegance of Makashi didn�t capture her interest. She knew what she wanted and took the direct approach. The shortest distance between two points was always a straight line, and that was her preferred approach to problems.
Yarni refined her somewhat, and helped her overcome the linear simplicity of Djem So by adding his own unique style into the mix. He made every movement more fluid. Cuts gained speed without sacrificing power. Finesse was added, and the blade was used like an artist's brush.
Though her style never began to approach the sophistication and class of Makashi, she was able to turn her Djem So into a graceful series of movements rather than a clumsy use of raw power in the way she'd started with. Yarni turned her into more than a swordsman, he turned her into a duelist.
However, while Yarni was kind to her, puberty was not. Ervisa was as skinny as a rail, without noticeable curves, and an angular face with sharp features. At that age she was grateful that relationships were forbidden for Jedi, because if she'd been looking for one, she never would have gotten one.
The majority of the missions they undertook were based on protecting others and on solving problems. Generally the kind of problems like pirates, rampaging animals, and a Dark Jedi on one occasion.
That occasion came three years prior to her Knighting ceremony. She was 20 years old, and already very skilled with a blade. She�d mastered Shii Cho entirely and was almost to that point with Djem So.
Rumors had emerged about a pair of Dark Jedi hiding on Bestine IV, and the duo of Guardians easily tracked them to a small rocky island. With no way out, the Dark Jedi fought fiercely. But they were no match for Ervisa and Yarni. The two Guardians beat back their attacks easily, and even used it as a chance to practice. Ervisa was toying with her vastly outclassed opponent, like it was just a game. He was younger than she was, and less talented. Despite all his hate and anger he wasn't remotely comparable to her. She outclassed him easily. Finally she ended the game with a powerful back-handed strike that cut her opponent almost in two.
That was the achievement that 'earned' her the tattoos on the right side of her face, joining the ones on the left stemming from her selection as Padawan.
As she gained more experience, she also found a serious disadvantage. The Mirialan Jedi discovered she was bad at fighting droids. Very bad at fighting droids. She wound up facing off with a trio of ResCorp combat droids, models a good deal taller than her. Their rate of fire was tremendous, and she simply couldn't block all of the shots. She was skilled in Shien, but not skilled enough. Against that volume of fire her defenses were overwhelmed, and she started to take hits. First in the shoulder, then in the thigh, then in the stomach. She collapsed to the ground, certain of her own death.
Luckily for her, Yarni arrived at her side. He dispatched the droids and provided what healing he could. He managed to preserve Ervisa's life until she could make it to a medical facility and some quality time with kolto.
Surviving the injury earned her a few more tattoos, and counted as her Trial of the Flesh.
The other Trials went much easier since they didn't involve pain. In fact, her bravery as a Padawan qualified as her Trial of Courage. It was blessedly one less thing to do.
Her Trial of Skill was almost a formality in her eyes... up until she actually took it. She'd been under the illusion that fighting a simulacrum of a Dark Jedi would be easier than fighting the real thing. She was wrong. Knowing she had an aptitude for lightsabers, they made incredibly sure that her Force powers were stretched as well. They kept the playing field constantly moving, changing up the environment rapidly as instructors threw objects at her to simulate an opponent's telekinesis. She was almost knocked over what seemed like a dozen times, and the simulated enemy didn't go easy on her. It was easily the hardest fight she'd ever been in. Luckily, her Shien was up to the task of diverting blows, and her Djem So was able to switch over to a sustained offense that ended when she cut out its legs and jabbed her blade into its chest. It had taken at least twenty minutes, but Ervisa had lost track. She hadn't even noticed she'd exerted herself until it was over. Then she realized she was dripping with sweat and her limbs felt weak. She'd passed the trial though, and that made it worth the while. Now she was ready for her last trial.
This came unexpectedly, while meditating on Rhen Var. She'd stopped off at the Enclave there for rest alongside her Master, and much to her surprise her restful meditation had taken a much darker turn. A disturbing turn.
She saw herself in a vision, standing over a shadowy figure in a jungle. The heat and the humidity were oppressive, and the rotting smell of decay was in her nose, smothering her. The figure was unarmed, and helpless. He was her prisoner, clad in shadow and blackness. She couldn't tell who or what he was, but she could see his eyes. They pleaded with her, begged her to spare his life. And with a scream Ervisa beheaded the prisoner, watching his lifeless body fall to the ground as his head came to a stop before her, eyes staring up in shock. It showed her exactly what she was capable of without discipline. It was worrying, and ultimately it was a vision of a possible future. One that did not come to pass.
She came back to her conscious state, hearing her name called. Suddenly she was aware her body was drenched in sweat and her master was staring at her with a worried expression, asking what was wrong.
It was tempting to lie, to say everything was fine. But that would have been pointless, it was obvious she was rattled. But at the same time she was reluctant to describe the fact she'd just had a vision of her murdering someone. So she opted for a neutral response. She mentioned she had a vision, and that it was negative. Then she asked what to do. Yarni advised her it had to mean something, and that it was up to her to interpret it.
She chose to see it as a call to action, and to be mindful of her feelings. It was a warning of what could happen if she slipped. And a serious enough warning to merit her constant attention. She told her master fully what she'd seen and how she understood it. He was pleased.
When it was clear Ervisa knew the meaning, she was Knighted. And with that formal ceremony, she became a Jedi Knight in full standing with the Order. Then she took her largest tattoo yet, a navy blue triangle composed of smaller triangles on her chin, the tip of which rested just below her lip.
Ervisa had elected to become a Guardian. It was a natural fit for her. Her 'good guys and bad guys' mentality, skill with a blade, and dedication to service secured her that place.
She didn't grow complacent with her role as a Knight however, and she took a Padawan a single year later after intense training by herself.
He was a 13 year old Twi'lek named Bola'attuna, who had a good deal more balance between force powers and saber skills. Ervisa saw the chance to help him overcome his shyness and teach him to use a lightsaber properly. And she did.
Over the course of five years, she raised his Shii Cho skills to a very respectable level, and even tried introducing him to Shien. He didn't take well to it, so she delayed it until the last few years of training and tried to help him learn Soresu essentially by himself.
The Masters assigned her missions based on her strengths, and the result was that she did very much the same things she had done as a Padawan. Protecting others. Battling foes of various kinds.
Throughout it all, she grew closer and closer to her Padawan. He was like a little brother to her, one she taught carefully and found patience for despite her own increasing independence. The Mirialan Jedi found herself enjoying her time away from the Temple almost a little too much at times, and she discovered she was a very skilled pilot and could 'talk the talk' with people on the fringe. Bola Attuna kept her on the straight and narrow though and gave her a sense of purpose.
It was in her twenties that another facet of growth came. Ervisa's intensive physical exercise had left her in great shape, and she had been finally allotted modest curves that left her an attractive woman, in her own way.
Ervisa's decision to leave the Jedi came after a pivotal moment in her life. That moment was the death of her Padawan. Bola'attuna, the now-18 year old Twi'lek who had been her most steadfast friend as well as her student joined her fighting a Dark Jedi who had been cornered on Felucia.
In an almost comical turn of events, the Mirialan was flipped end over end by a force wave and tossed into a translucent pitcher plant. While she struggled to free herself, Bola was forced to face down the superior foe by himself. But his fledgling Soresu was no match for the Dark Jedi's elegant Makashi. The red blade ran him through, and he collapsed to the ground.
The Knight broke free of the plant, slicing through with her saber and charged her foe with a powerful back-handed Djem So assault. She beat down her foe with every bit of power she had. In a swift movement she lopped off both his hands and kicked him to the ground.
Immediately the Dark Jedi held up his arms and surrendered. He knew the Jedi wouldn't kill him. And he was right. She recognized this now, her Trial of the Spirit come to life. She was careful not to let the dark vision come to pass though, and she didn't lop off her enemy's head the way she wanted to.
Instead, she ran to Bola's side and kneeled by him, cradling his head in her arms as he lived his last few minutes. Very few words were spoken, but the message through his eyes was clear as the light went out of them. He was sorry. Sorry he'd failed his master. And she was sorry, sorry she'd failed her apprentice. Sorry she had to let the one who killed him live.
She bound the prisoner carefully before gathering together what fuel she could, and then laid out her Padawan on a funeral pyre. Despite the rules against attachment and the exhortations against missing and mourning the dead to an unhealthy degree, she did mourn. And it was to an unhealthy degree. She grieved deeply, and in her black and white vision that wasn't acceptable for a Jedi. Jedi were noble heroes who didn't let their emotions rule the day. They didn't let attachments hold them down. But she did. She'd loved her Padawan like a brother, and she couldn't come to terms with his death. Every time she thought about it she was torn between tears and fury. Stifling them was damned hard. Too hard for her, and she seethed about it.
The entire trip back she didn't say a word to the Dark Jedi prisoner. She handed him over to the authorities upon reaching the temple, then she handed over her lightsaber to the masters and announced she was leaving the Order. It was a decision she'd reached on her trip, possibly quite rashly. But she couldn't be dissuaded. Her mind was made up.
In her mind, the 'good guys' had just lost. The bad guy was alive, the good guy had died. And the Jedi way was mercy. She couldn't bring herself to violate it, but she couldn't live with it either. The memories of her Padawan were too strong at the Temple.
It was time to chart her own course in life.
In her first days outside of the Jedi Order, the Mirialan wandered aimlessly on Coruscant. She managed to pick up a few credits doing odd jobs, which she promptly used gambling. She didn't care about 'wise' use. She wandered and lived on a whim, and she 'felt' like gambling. So she did. She caught on fast, and with her own skills and the slight �edge� the Force gave her, she was able to exponentially increase her funds at the various casinos and betting parlors.
She bought herself a new wardrobe based on what looked practical and comfortable. Without her lightsaber, she also bought a blaster pistol and a gun belt for it. She wanted to have something on-hand for defensive purposes, and she also really liked the look of the gunbelt. She simply wantedit, so she bought it. Then she booked passage off the planet, and headed for the Outer Rim.
She wandered without purpose for years. She served on a dozen freighter crews, doing everything from cook to her own job of choice: pilot. She even found the opportunity to add a few more tattoos.
The only two stories which were truly noteworthy, and which occasionally make dubiously accurate appearances in her tales, were an encounter with Dark Jedi and a prison sentence on Rodia.
Early on after leaving the Order, Ervisa had been operating as member of a freighter crew hauling some regional freight and passengers between Yavin and Bonadan when they ran afoul of a few Dark Jedi seeking passage. They bullied their way past the other crew members through threats or mind tricks, but Ervisa wasn�t some weak-minded grunt. She was a former Jedi. Unfortunately, her now-impressive skills with a blaster still wouldn�t be enough to overcome a well-handled lightsaber, certainly not three of them.
The Dark Jedi loudly demanded she provide both food and entertainment on the flight. Lacking any other option, the Mirialan did. She served up the best meal she could make and carried out an impromptu stand-up comedy routine that was met with only mild amusement, despite a brilliant impression of a Sand Person from Tatooine and the current Chancellor of the Republic.
It was that incident which inspired her to build another lightsaber, in case she ran afoul of more Dark Jedi. Over the course of two months she expertly assembled one, proving she hadn't lost her touch. With a little practice, she was back to her top form and ready for anything.
The weapon did draw attention as she was obviously not a Jedi. When asked about it she responded the same way as she did to inquiries about her tattoos. Namely, she lied through her teeth. The most amusing lies she concocted were "I'm the Jedi Grandmaster in disguise on a secret mission to destroy the Sith," and "its not a lightsaber, its a lighter for my cigars."
The prison term was another example of things beyond her control going disastrously wrong. She was the pilot onboard a smuggler's ship called The Merchant of Menace. As the ship's name would suggest, the Captain's cargo of choice was weaponry. Unfortunately for them, the Rodian government wasn't quite so keen on the idea of a few hundred blaster rifles and thermal detonators winding up on their planet in the hands of criminals. The second the ship touched down, they were raided and the cache was discovered. Everyone from the Skipper to the Cook was sentenced to 20 years. No exceptions. And Ervisa's attempt to persuade the Rodian government that she was really an Alderaanian princess on a diplomatic mission waylaid by the forces of darkness didn't go over well. Regrettably they also refused to consider it an acceptable psychiatric defense.
Luckily, the Mirialan was able to reduce her time behind bars to one year. She tunneled out of prison using a spoon, a pair of panties, and a year of digging.
She climbed up from the tunnel just outside the wall, stopping quickly at the impound area to recover her possessions, then beat a guard unconscious, stole a speeder, and headed for the nearest spaceport.
She stopped off at a cantina first, drinking her fill and gambling for passage off the planet. When security forces hot on her tail raided the establishment, she ducked into the bathroom and used her lightsaber to cut into the bakery next door. She pocketed as many sweet rolls as she could carry before slicing through another wall into the street and running like hell to the right docking bay.
Her life ever since leaving the Order had been six years of wandering and drifting from job to job. And she was content with that. She gained interesting stories and life experiences, some experiences that hurt her badly.
Ervisa was a stranger to affairs of the heart, a relic of her Jedi days. Just because she'd had intimacy so many times didn't mean she'd ever had a relationship, or a true romantic interest. Her only frame of reference for love was cheap fiction and the holodramas catering to housewives, which set her up for a fall. The seed that was planted into that soil was on Cato Neimoidia, when she met Asyr Yevor. He was dashing and debonair, and very similar to her in certain ways. She recognized in him the closest to a kindred spirit she'd ever see, and even after they parted ways it gnawed at her mind and she became increasingly convinced that the connection between them was destiny, and that she had the makings of one of those love stories.
She was wrong. When she finally confessed her feelings she was met with a polite rejection that shredded her heart, and seeing him promptly slide into the arms of another woman solidified her agony. Ervisa slipped away from her crew on the city planet of Coruscant and promptly headed to the bar, but her old pastime of singing drunken lullabies to ease her pain didn't solve her problems. Desperate for some stronger medicine, she tried spice for the first time. As an addictive personality, it was a one hit wonder and she became an addict.
Spice was the downward spiral that brought Ervisa to the darkest and most desolate point in her life, a stretch just as bad as her days just after leaving the Jedi Order, but compounded by the effects the drugs had on her. Her senses were dulled, and gambling only succeeded in taking away her credits. Work was impossible to find, as no one hired a pilot whose hands shook with bleary eyes. She was obviously a junkie, and no one trusted her skills. The Mirialan woman was desperate, without money or hope, so she turned her one remaining asset into a source of income: her body. She became a prostitute, which was the lowest she could sink.
And then she gave up hope.
Hope wasn't restored for three months, when a woman named Naavechi inspired Ervisa to seek help for her addiction, after a mysterious stranger left her with a surplus of credits. The Mirialan woman entered rehab, and when she emerged, she bought a one-way ticket to the Outer Rim.
Ervisa settled on the planet of Oatara, where she quickly found herself a bird and a hangar to operate out of, running a helicopter service for herself.
RP Sample:
Ervisa Therani moved slowly in a circle, holding her lightsaber in a back-handed Djem So stance, ready to strike toward the Dark Jedi in front of her. He was shrouded in robes, the glint of his eyes the only thing visible of his face. Even in the sweltering heat and humidity of Felucia he seemed at ease in the black robes.
In contrast, the Mirialan Jedi was sweating in her own minimal Jedi robes. She wanted the fight to begin and end quickly. But a token sense of what 'was' and 'was not' appropriate told her taking the first swing wouldn't be kosher. "ust drop your lightsaber and come along quietly. It'll be a lot easier than killing you.�
The Dark Jedi chuckled. �Such bluster. Typical of the Jedi. And too weak to cast the first strike? That also means you�re too weak to cast the last strike.�
Off to the side, Bola Attuna, Ervisa�s Padawan, shot back with his own retort. �It takes more strength to not fight a battle. You can�t control your own passions, how can you control anything else if you can�t control yourself?�
Without warning, the Dark Jedi shoved the Twi�lek Padawan with the force, and sent him flying backwards. In the same movement he sprung forward with his lightsaber drawn, swinging at the Mirialan�s extremities. It was a strike easily cast aside with the mere flick of the wrist, and the energy from it was directed into a powerful cut from Ervisa�s blue lightsaber. It cut through thin air though as the Dark Jedi ducked under the blade in a quick roll. Though he avoided the blade, he didn�t avoid a boot to the face that sent him reeling back. But from his position on the ground, he sent a massive wave of force energy at the Jedi. She was caught off balance and sent flying through the air.
She righted herself in the movement, but couldn�t control her landing. She hit the opening of a large pitcher plant and tumbled inside it. If not for what happened a short while later, that would have been the worst experience in her life. The stickiness of the plant, the dank humidity of the interior, and the nauseating smell were enough to make her sick. Through its translucent shell she could see her foe and her apprentice dueling now. Bola was a tolerable swordsman, but no match for a full-fledged Dark Jedi. He needed her help, and needed it immediately.
Ervisa fumbled around the plant in search of her lightsaber, igniting it and starting to cut open a door in the plant. The figures of the two duelists were perfectly clear, and a moment before the door was complete, Ervisa saw a flash of red, and the blade of the Dark Jedi�s lightsaber extending out of Bola�s back. He�d been run through completely.
�NO!� She screamed, both shock and denial in her voice. It couldn�t happen. She�d put so much effort into his training, she was confident in him. She needed him for guidance as much as he needed her.
With a desperate and frantic desire to end the fight and rush to Bola�s side, Ervisa leapt into action. She didn�t give the Dark Jedi time to use more force powers. She rained down an avalanche of powerful overhead blows, forcing him back steadily. She switched fluidly to a back-handed grip and swung against her enemy�s blade with all her might. He tried to disengage, but she spun his blade harder and brought it around a full a 360 degrees, snapping his wrist. And with another strike she sliced through both his hands.
As she lifted her saber for a killing blow that would split him in two, the Dark Jedi held his arms to the side and said one word that froze her. �Mercy.�
Therani flashed back to her Trial of the Spirit years ago, a meditation on Rhen Var. And she noticed every detail of that vision was the same. The shadowy figure disarmed before her, the moist heat of the jungle planet, and even her own emotions. But there was one more difference. The Jedi in the vision had decapitated the prisoner. The Jedi in the flesh deactivated her lightsaber and settled for kicking the Dark Jedi in the chest. �Run and I kill you.� She warned, though running off into the depths of Felucia without hands was an equally lethal prospect.
She jogged over to her Padawan�s still form on the ground, and kneeled by his side, cradling his head in her arms as she heard his ragged breathing coming in short spurts. Not even the greatest Jedi Healer could save him. Not now.
Tears filled her gray eyes as she held him, realizing just how badly she�d failed him.
�I�m� sorry master� I failed�� The Twi�lek coughed as he whispered his apologies, the color draining from his blue skin at a frightening rate.
Ervisa shook her head from side to side. �No, I�m the one who failed. Forgive me Bola� Forgive me for letting this happen.�
�There is� nothing to forgive�� The Padawan�s voice failed and his head tilted back. As the light faded from his eyes, Ervisa�s tears stained her tattooed face.
�May the Force be with you� brother.� She choked over her farewell, and collapsed over his body in grief. She remained in that position for what seemed like hours, tears staining her face and the robes of her deceased Padawan.
Years Later
Ervisa peered out the window of her bird as she circled over a clearing. Sure enough, there were more than a few predators down there staring up, clearly hoping she was the delivery-woman there to drop off dinner.
The Mirialan woman peered back into the passenger compartment of her RR-7700 helicopter and yelled back to the hunters, who seemed rather nonchalant about the fact the predators on the ground wanted to eat every last one of them.
"Hey, you guys aren't getting set down in grid square 136A, I'm taking you to the back-up site."
"Why?"
Ervisa glanced back at the instruments and banked into a wide course heading for the other site before she turned her head again as she held the helicopter on a steady course. "Because there's about a hundred glow wolves down there and four of you in here."
"Hey, we're hunters. We can handle ourselves."
The pilot peered over her aviator sunglasses and fixed the man who'd spoke with a gaze. "Look hon, I get paid for roundtrip flights. You're asking for a one-way now. We're bugging out and heading down to safer pastures. End of story."
Green hands applied pressure to the stick as feet found the rudder pedals, and the helicopter fell into a final course straight past some of the most lovely scenery to be found in the Outer Rim.
"You don't seem to understand greenie, we're the best hunters from Agamar."
Ervisa didn't turn her head as she answered. "You're not on Agamar anymore, you're on Oatara. That means you play by Oatara rules. Rule number one, listen to the Green Lady who flies the helicopter. Rule two, see rule one."
I understand what you're trying to say, but you might try to think of a better wording.
