Post by kreyopresny on Sept 20, 2011 22:48:22 GMT -5
Name: Terest
Race: Zabrak
Age: 25
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 160 lbs
Appearance: An unusually tall Zabrak female with a series of short blue-tinged horns ringing her bald head. Her pale skin is marked with a series of tattoos, dark lines curving from the edge of her blue-within-blue eyes down her cheeks. The pattern continues across her body: interweaving from the top of her chest, all across her back, and continuing down the side of each leg all the way to the ankle. Her hairless face is riddled with piercings, including innumerable rings in each ear, as well as her nose, lip, eyebrow, and navel.
Personality: Usually, Terest is haughty, with a quick wit and mischievous attitude. Her arrogance stems from her ambition and determination to excel at anything she attempts, she views most other people as lazy. Her moods tend to run either extremely hot or cold, while usually arrogant and biting, putting on a carefully crafted act that most people are beneath her notice; however she has a quick temper that often leads her into a frenzy that is the main source of her dark side power, triggering a Force Rage.
Birth place: Iridia
Faction: Sith Order
Rank: Initiate
Previous Faction: None
Previous Rank: None
Bio:
Born Doz Bukk in a traditional Zabrak village on the colony world of Iridia, her village was raided by Juvex slavers when she was only 6. She was sold, along with her brother Jut and the villages "combat master" (a glorified P.E. teacher) Hakk, to Rada the Hutt- a minor crime lord who was the big fish in the small pond of the Loovrian gladiator pits. He renames them all, claiming they now have been reborn as slaves and should not cling to anything from their old lives.
Banding together, the three care for each other, despite the dangers of the gladiator quarters, and even manage to win a few fights in the ring, though Hakk suspects many of these were fixed by their Hutt owner. Growing in this environment, and subjected to constant fighting and abuse, both in and out of the ring, Doz grew up strong and quickly began to excel in melee combat. As she reached her teens she began to grow tall and strong, large even for a Zabrak.
Determined to keep up the old ways, once they come of age at 16, Hakk applies the traditional rites of passage and administers both Doz and Jut's tattooing -known as jot- himself, with what rudimentary and painful equipment could be procured in the slaves quarters. Both the youths, now accomplished gladiators in their own right had grown fond of the aging man, viewing him as a father figure. However, soon after Doz's jot Hakk is killed within the gladiator arena, his elderly body succumbing to what would have otherwise been a minor wound.
Without their perceived guardian, Doz and Jut -having refused to go by their slave names outside of Rada's presence- are the target of renewed aggression in rough allies of the gladiator pens. A group of rival gladiators corners them, bitter over a defeat in the arena and begins to attack the savagely. Jut attempts to defend his sister, and takes the brunt of the beating, losing an arm in the process. Seeing her last companion being so brutally abused, she gives into her anger and, her vision clouding over with a sickly purple tint like the sun seen through a storm cloud, falls upon their attackers in a Force fueled frenzy, ripping and clawing them to death with her bare hands.
Her enemies dead, the frenzy abates leaving her mind in a dark cloud, the world still a fog of purple. She claims the weapon of their lead attacker, a pair of retractable vibroblades that are carried via magnetic attachments to wristbands, and walks away dripping a trail of blood, leaving her mangled brother forgotten, her first real contact with the Dark Side forever altering her. She begins to train in combat with renewed vigor, her relentless drive and ruthlessness in combat quickly propelling her to star-status in the arena, though she could never reach the intoxicating power of that purple haze again. She begins to harbor great anger at both the deceased Hakk- for holding her back- and her brother Jut- for being both weak and a burden to her, now that he is crippled. This, coupled with the increased affections and privilege granted by her Hutt master to his best gladiator slave, propel her to abandon her Zabrak heritage and claim her slave name Terest. This was also when she began to celebrate her victories in the arena by taking a new piercing for each kill -as opposed to victory by submission or incapacitation- in the arena.
Terest's ambition however, was not limited to the small world of the gladiator arena, and the life of a slave, and she began seeking opportunities to escape Loovria and her master. This finally came shortly after her 20th birthday, when as she was dueling, toying with some pathetically weak Gamorrean, that the arena erupted in chaos. Unknown to Terest, a Dark Jedi had decided to do away with her Hutt master, rather than pay his gambling debts. Rada's public appearance at the gladiator fights provided his best window. Using a thermal detonator the assassin managed to successfully kill Rada the Hutt, as well as destroy a large portion of the arena, and then slipped away in the ensuing panic.
Seeing her window, Terest decided to follow his lead, and scrambled up the rubble from the exploded arena wall and scrambled through the crowd toward the Hutt's private docking bay. She draws her prized weapons, expecting to confront the guards stationed there only to find them already slain. Rushing into the docking bay, she finds the Dark Jedi preparing to steal one of the shuttles. Seeing Terest approaching armed, the Dark Jedi casually waves his hand sending a Force Push at her. Tapping into the rage that has driven her these last several years, she withstands it, losing only inches of ground. Surprised, the Dark Jedi draws his lightsaber, it's yellow-orange blade humming in the tense silence, and approaches the battle ready Terest. Suddenly reconsidering his actions, he deactivates the weapon and speaks in a gravelly voice,
"You are certainly interesting, little slave girl. If you wish to tap into your true potential, find me on Nar Shaddaa."
The mysterious figure leaps into a nearby craft and speeds away, despite Terest's protests and confused inquiries. After several failed attempts to pilot a ship, and turning the hangar bay into a disaster area, she was forced to flee as a group of armed guards stormed the hangar in response to the noise. Not wishing to be re-enslaved, she disappeared out the open garage end, scaling the walls. With some effort, she manages to climb the assorted ledges and vents to reach a nearby hanger bay, where she spies a pair of droids loading a cargo vessel. Careful not to be spotted, she sneaks aboard the ship and conceals herself amongst the shipping crates. She doesn't know how much time passes, the darkness of the cargo hold destroying any perception of time, but finally light enters and she carefully removes herself, emerging from the ship into the bustling space port of Rattatak.
Delighted to find the world she'd arrived on had many famous gladiator rings, she quickly entered herself into the circuit. Fighting now as a professional mercenary for a purse, Terest rapidly raised the credits she needed to hitch a ride to Nar Shaddaa. Many of the seedy gamblers and smugglers who frequented the audience of the arenas called the dingy world home anyways. Finally arriving, she wasted no time scouring the dark alleyways for the Dark Jedi she'd met before. Having no real leads, she allowed her instincts to guide her, and her blades do the talking. Finally, a lucky lead, coming from a gangster who remembered having seen Terest fight on Loovria no less, took her to a dank gambling den in one of the seedier districts of the moon. As she walked in the door, the man immediately turned and faced her, eyes locked on her across the dark and crowded room, despite the dingy cloak she'd worn to conceal her features.
Cutting through the crowd, as only someone accustomed to dominating those around them can, she approached him, her eyes locked on his. The knowing smirk on his face soured her mood, and caused her own features to twist into a scowl that distorted her face as she slipped into the seat across the small table from him. She was even more annoyed to find a fresh drink waiting for her. He had felt her presence, likely since the moment she touched down on the Smuggler's Moon. The handsome, if not rather haggard looking, man introduced himself as Vant Daesim and proceeded to engage her in attempts at casual conversation. Terest shut down his efforts with cold one word answers, her voice leaking more of her frustration and annoyance. This only seemed to egg Vant on, until finally her temper bursts and Terest demands to know why he asked her to come her.
"Why didn't you kill me?"
"Because you survived my first attack."
Finally, he explains the strength of the Dark Side he had felt within her, and said he wished to take her on as his apprentice. She begrudgingly agreed, her thirst for power overriding her disdain of the loudmouthed Fallen Jedi. They continued talking well into the early hours, Vant appearing to never run out of things to say. He only became tight lipped when she tried to ask about his past. Terest didn't press the subject, but made a careful mental note of this.
The next five years were spent in training Terest in the ways of the Force. This involved the standards of meditation and combat training, but also in random street killings and torture,"to better align themselves with the Dark Side" Vant claimed. It was during one of their back alley slaughters when Terest first rediscovered the secret of Force Rage. Two of their intended victims had fled while Terest and Vant had been dispatching their comrades, the whole time drawing on the Force to strengthen them as they had been practicing, showing off all their petty tricks to one another. Of course they gave chase, not wishing any to know their identites, still using the Force to increase their speed, only to come headlong into an ambush. Facing 7 thugs, mostly Twi'lek, they were forced to fight seriously, and soon found themselves struggling to prevent themselves from being surrounded and overwhelmed. Terest found herself drawing more and more on the Dark Side, forcing her will into pushing her speed and strength. Though completely drained from excessive use of the Force, she would not let herself quit, and with each ounce of power she pushed into her muscles, her vision slowly fogged a familiar murky purple. Suddenly, it was as if a flood-gate had been opened. Terest felt herself become one with the Dark Side, and the world around her seemed to slip into slow motion. She felt the fury inside her, the wild fighting instinct craving the kill. The Dark Side's frenzy flowed through her, crashing like a wild river. She let herself be washed away, her knowledge of the Force barely keeping her head above water enough to direct the flow, to channel the frenzy. Her movements were far too fast to be seen, but from her perspective the world had slowed to a crawl, a nearly static vision of prey ripe for the kill. Stopping the storm nearly proved too difficult, while it had been easy to guide towards it's next victim, trying to stop the rage and clear it from her mind was another matter. Their ambushers now a blooded pile of spare parts, the fury turned towards the only living victim in the vicinity: Vant. After a furious battle, wherein she fought against her own raging body to throw her attacks off target as much as Vant actually defended himself. Finally, taking advantage of a lull in the combat, Terest desperately directed everything she had into a single mighty wall of Force, pushed with a crackling ball of violet lightning into the wall of a nearby building, where it exploded on impact and leveled the structure, taking the mad frenzy with it, and leaving an unconcious Zabrak female convulsing under her ratty cloak amidst the rubble. She spent the next several months after this event learning to tap into that flood-gate in short bursts, subjugating the wild hunger to her will, learning to summon it like a flame from a lighter- and extinguish it just as easily.
Initially using Vant's old blue lightsaber from his days as a Padawan of the Jedi Order, Terest soon progressed enough to craft her own lightsabers. With materials procured from the pockets or with the pocketbooks of their hapless victims, Terest forged a pair of silver hilted sabers, using a forge to produce a pair of synthetic crystals that gave the blades a murky purple hue, which she had carefully crafted through painstaking hours of concentration, reaching into the furnace with the Force, to match the colored tint that affected her vision during, and for an exhausted period after, the Force Rage that so changed her life. Armed now with the legendary weapons of the Sith, she cast aside her old vibroblades, surprising even herself over the amount of sentimental attachment she had to overcome to do so. As a tribute, and also out of habit, she rigged up a pair of wrist gauntlets on which to carry her lightsabers about.
Terest eventually grew tired of this hollow existence, and the filth of Nar Shadaa. Easily surpassing Vant at lightsaber combat in just over a year of daily training, she began to suspect he had not ranked very highly amongst the Jedi Order when he abandoned them for the Dark Side. She was quickly catching up with him in other areas as well. Terest could levitate and manipulate objects through the Force with ease enough, and had even learned to manifest a single thin bolt of Force Lightning ; though she scorned these practices in favor of more physical endeavors. Killing through the Force lacked the visceral pleasure she had grown to crave, the wild ecstasy that came of feeding the hunger and feeling your victims life fade away beneath your touch. Her suspicion was confirmed when, upon the emergence of the Order of the Sith, Vant suggested they both rush to Korriban to join the newly reformed Academy. In his excitement, coupled with his complete inability to make a concise statement, he let slip that he had still been a Padawan when he'd left the Jedi Order in shame, unable to complete his trials for knighthood. Eager to escape the urban wastes of the Smuggler's Moon, Terest agreed; and they were soon scouting the spaceports for passage to the ancient homeworld of the Sith.
Upon reaching Korriban, Terest and Vant sought entrance to the Sith Academy, along with a long line of hopefuls. They quickly realized they needed to set themselves apart to even get noticed. After making a ruckus outside the gates, they finally attracted the attention of the Academy staff. Vant begins his long winded appeal for entrance, detailing his background as a Padawan and then their training activities of the last few years. The staffs attention quickly began to wain. Sensing they were losing the staffs interest, Terest stepped behind the prattling Dark Jedi, and with one swift stroke of her lightsaber, removed his long-winded head. This show of ruthlessness and betrayal impressed the Sith Order far more than any speech, and earned her a place as a novice in the academy.
((Again, not sure I like the last paragraph, but I'm trying to fit into the universe somewhere))
Lightsaber: Dual wields twin silver-hilt single phase lightsabers
Color: Purple
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 2
Makashi N/A
Soresu N/A
Ataru N/A
Shien / Djem So N/A
>>Sub-form Backhanded N/A
Niman 1
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield 2
Juyo N/A
Double Bladed Combat N/A
((Figured she'd have extra skill in Jar-kai philosophy just from experience with 2 weapon fighting, but this would not necessarily translate into knowledge of the Niman form))
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 2
Telepathic: 1
Body: 5
Sense: 2
Protection: 0
Healing: 0
Destruction: 3
Force Rage
Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 5
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 1
Force Attunement: -5
RP Sample:
Walking into the Cantina of this galaxy forsaken Desert world, Terest walked unhesitating to the bar, head held high. Her eyes noting each person in the room, and their reactions to her; though her face would never let you know she'd even seen you.
Three Gamorreans in the corner, already drunk. she noted to herself, dispatched easily enough if need be. She noted the leering eyes of several male patrons, but doubted any of them would be brave enough to approach the enormous Zabrak woman. Leaning forward onto the bar counter, she allowed the bar tender a view down her corset, before scowling at him for staring.
Men are so easy... she thought, with an internal smirk. I'll have him wrapped around my finger now. Blushing, the paunchy human stammered, "Help you with something ma'am?" Standing to her full height, she replied casually, "I doubt it." and turned her head away as if something had caught her attention.
The bartender stood there confused for a moment, before Terest continued, "I'm looking for a good fight." Her voice was cool and flat, and her gaze seemed to sweep across the bar, looking at everything but the man she was talking to. The man suddenly relaxed and began to talk loudly to her, leaning closer to her as he talked. Terest wrinkled her nose as he did, as if his stench was particularly offensive amongst the melange of odor clinging to the seedy establishment.
"Well that should be easy enough," the bartender answered in his loud overly friendly demeanor, "any one of these lot'll throw a punch soon as they'll blink at yuh. Doubt ya really want anything like that though, wouldn't wanna muss up a pretty thing like you." She sniffed, and finally turning her attention to the man, locked eyes with him, her face a disdainful snarl. Raising her voice, so all the bar could hear she replied, "Listen you pathetic little RAT! I could do away with any one of these WEAKLINGS in a second! I'm looking for a challenge!"
At this the many patrons took notice, and being none too fond of being insulted, especially by some stuck-up female, many stood up abruptly. Silence fell over the room except for the scraping of chairs, before chaos erupted. Many of the drunken patrons rushing towards her, and even those who didn't get involved initially were pulled into what had quickly become an all out brawl.
Terest's twin vibroblades seemed to leap into her hands from their mounts on her wrist, a flick of her wrist snapping out the retractable blades just as the first attacker actually reached her. He was sent to the floor as the pommel of the hilt connected with his forehead. Several more drunken fools were dispatched in a similar fashion, Terest not dealing real damage or cutting with her weapon until the Gamorreans approached. Then her durasteel met their war axes, clanging apart with the high pitched hum of the vibroblade technology. She took down all three of them quickly, her quick blades easily evading their clumsy defenses, the stench of blood rising in the air as she lopped the filthy creatures to bits.
Finally the brawl ended, everyone who hadn't fled the bar by now was either dead or on the floor, except for Terest- who stood alone panting in the middle of the room, blades ready, her eyes searching rapidly for her next victim- and the paunchy bartender- who was cowering under the bar. The battle ended, she fought to regain control and suppress the blood-lust. A flick of a switch retracted the vibroblades into their handles, which then leaped magnetically back to their perch as she simply released them. Still shaking with adrenaline, and her body exhausted from the rage, Terest reached over the bar, hauling the bartender up by his collar. Pulling him very close to her she barked out, "I... want... a... CHALLENGE."
Race: Zabrak
Age: 25
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 160 lbs
Appearance: An unusually tall Zabrak female with a series of short blue-tinged horns ringing her bald head. Her pale skin is marked with a series of tattoos, dark lines curving from the edge of her blue-within-blue eyes down her cheeks. The pattern continues across her body: interweaving from the top of her chest, all across her back, and continuing down the side of each leg all the way to the ankle. Her hairless face is riddled with piercings, including innumerable rings in each ear, as well as her nose, lip, eyebrow, and navel.
Personality: Usually, Terest is haughty, with a quick wit and mischievous attitude. Her arrogance stems from her ambition and determination to excel at anything she attempts, she views most other people as lazy. Her moods tend to run either extremely hot or cold, while usually arrogant and biting, putting on a carefully crafted act that most people are beneath her notice; however she has a quick temper that often leads her into a frenzy that is the main source of her dark side power, triggering a Force Rage.
Birth place: Iridia
Faction: Sith Order
Rank: Initiate
Previous Faction: None
Previous Rank: None
Bio:
Born Doz Bukk in a traditional Zabrak village on the colony world of Iridia, her village was raided by Juvex slavers when she was only 6. She was sold, along with her brother Jut and the villages "combat master" (a glorified P.E. teacher) Hakk, to Rada the Hutt- a minor crime lord who was the big fish in the small pond of the Loovrian gladiator pits. He renames them all, claiming they now have been reborn as slaves and should not cling to anything from their old lives.
Banding together, the three care for each other, despite the dangers of the gladiator quarters, and even manage to win a few fights in the ring, though Hakk suspects many of these were fixed by their Hutt owner. Growing in this environment, and subjected to constant fighting and abuse, both in and out of the ring, Doz grew up strong and quickly began to excel in melee combat. As she reached her teens she began to grow tall and strong, large even for a Zabrak.
Determined to keep up the old ways, once they come of age at 16, Hakk applies the traditional rites of passage and administers both Doz and Jut's tattooing -known as jot- himself, with what rudimentary and painful equipment could be procured in the slaves quarters. Both the youths, now accomplished gladiators in their own right had grown fond of the aging man, viewing him as a father figure. However, soon after Doz's jot Hakk is killed within the gladiator arena, his elderly body succumbing to what would have otherwise been a minor wound.
Without their perceived guardian, Doz and Jut -having refused to go by their slave names outside of Rada's presence- are the target of renewed aggression in rough allies of the gladiator pens. A group of rival gladiators corners them, bitter over a defeat in the arena and begins to attack the savagely. Jut attempts to defend his sister, and takes the brunt of the beating, losing an arm in the process. Seeing her last companion being so brutally abused, she gives into her anger and, her vision clouding over with a sickly purple tint like the sun seen through a storm cloud, falls upon their attackers in a Force fueled frenzy, ripping and clawing them to death with her bare hands.
Her enemies dead, the frenzy abates leaving her mind in a dark cloud, the world still a fog of purple. She claims the weapon of their lead attacker, a pair of retractable vibroblades that are carried via magnetic attachments to wristbands, and walks away dripping a trail of blood, leaving her mangled brother forgotten, her first real contact with the Dark Side forever altering her. She begins to train in combat with renewed vigor, her relentless drive and ruthlessness in combat quickly propelling her to star-status in the arena, though she could never reach the intoxicating power of that purple haze again. She begins to harbor great anger at both the deceased Hakk- for holding her back- and her brother Jut- for being both weak and a burden to her, now that he is crippled. This, coupled with the increased affections and privilege granted by her Hutt master to his best gladiator slave, propel her to abandon her Zabrak heritage and claim her slave name Terest. This was also when she began to celebrate her victories in the arena by taking a new piercing for each kill -as opposed to victory by submission or incapacitation- in the arena.
Terest's ambition however, was not limited to the small world of the gladiator arena, and the life of a slave, and she began seeking opportunities to escape Loovria and her master. This finally came shortly after her 20th birthday, when as she was dueling, toying with some pathetically weak Gamorrean, that the arena erupted in chaos. Unknown to Terest, a Dark Jedi had decided to do away with her Hutt master, rather than pay his gambling debts. Rada's public appearance at the gladiator fights provided his best window. Using a thermal detonator the assassin managed to successfully kill Rada the Hutt, as well as destroy a large portion of the arena, and then slipped away in the ensuing panic.
Seeing her window, Terest decided to follow his lead, and scrambled up the rubble from the exploded arena wall and scrambled through the crowd toward the Hutt's private docking bay. She draws her prized weapons, expecting to confront the guards stationed there only to find them already slain. Rushing into the docking bay, she finds the Dark Jedi preparing to steal one of the shuttles. Seeing Terest approaching armed, the Dark Jedi casually waves his hand sending a Force Push at her. Tapping into the rage that has driven her these last several years, she withstands it, losing only inches of ground. Surprised, the Dark Jedi draws his lightsaber, it's yellow-orange blade humming in the tense silence, and approaches the battle ready Terest. Suddenly reconsidering his actions, he deactivates the weapon and speaks in a gravelly voice,
"You are certainly interesting, little slave girl. If you wish to tap into your true potential, find me on Nar Shaddaa."
The mysterious figure leaps into a nearby craft and speeds away, despite Terest's protests and confused inquiries. After several failed attempts to pilot a ship, and turning the hangar bay into a disaster area, she was forced to flee as a group of armed guards stormed the hangar in response to the noise. Not wishing to be re-enslaved, she disappeared out the open garage end, scaling the walls. With some effort, she manages to climb the assorted ledges and vents to reach a nearby hanger bay, where she spies a pair of droids loading a cargo vessel. Careful not to be spotted, she sneaks aboard the ship and conceals herself amongst the shipping crates. She doesn't know how much time passes, the darkness of the cargo hold destroying any perception of time, but finally light enters and she carefully removes herself, emerging from the ship into the bustling space port of Rattatak.
Delighted to find the world she'd arrived on had many famous gladiator rings, she quickly entered herself into the circuit. Fighting now as a professional mercenary for a purse, Terest rapidly raised the credits she needed to hitch a ride to Nar Shaddaa. Many of the seedy gamblers and smugglers who frequented the audience of the arenas called the dingy world home anyways. Finally arriving, she wasted no time scouring the dark alleyways for the Dark Jedi she'd met before. Having no real leads, she allowed her instincts to guide her, and her blades do the talking. Finally, a lucky lead, coming from a gangster who remembered having seen Terest fight on Loovria no less, took her to a dank gambling den in one of the seedier districts of the moon. As she walked in the door, the man immediately turned and faced her, eyes locked on her across the dark and crowded room, despite the dingy cloak she'd worn to conceal her features.
Cutting through the crowd, as only someone accustomed to dominating those around them can, she approached him, her eyes locked on his. The knowing smirk on his face soured her mood, and caused her own features to twist into a scowl that distorted her face as she slipped into the seat across the small table from him. She was even more annoyed to find a fresh drink waiting for her. He had felt her presence, likely since the moment she touched down on the Smuggler's Moon. The handsome, if not rather haggard looking, man introduced himself as Vant Daesim and proceeded to engage her in attempts at casual conversation. Terest shut down his efforts with cold one word answers, her voice leaking more of her frustration and annoyance. This only seemed to egg Vant on, until finally her temper bursts and Terest demands to know why he asked her to come her.
"Why didn't you kill me?"
"Because you survived my first attack."
Finally, he explains the strength of the Dark Side he had felt within her, and said he wished to take her on as his apprentice. She begrudgingly agreed, her thirst for power overriding her disdain of the loudmouthed Fallen Jedi. They continued talking well into the early hours, Vant appearing to never run out of things to say. He only became tight lipped when she tried to ask about his past. Terest didn't press the subject, but made a careful mental note of this.
The next five years were spent in training Terest in the ways of the Force. This involved the standards of meditation and combat training, but also in random street killings and torture,"to better align themselves with the Dark Side" Vant claimed. It was during one of their back alley slaughters when Terest first rediscovered the secret of Force Rage. Two of their intended victims had fled while Terest and Vant had been dispatching their comrades, the whole time drawing on the Force to strengthen them as they had been practicing, showing off all their petty tricks to one another. Of course they gave chase, not wishing any to know their identites, still using the Force to increase their speed, only to come headlong into an ambush. Facing 7 thugs, mostly Twi'lek, they were forced to fight seriously, and soon found themselves struggling to prevent themselves from being surrounded and overwhelmed. Terest found herself drawing more and more on the Dark Side, forcing her will into pushing her speed and strength. Though completely drained from excessive use of the Force, she would not let herself quit, and with each ounce of power she pushed into her muscles, her vision slowly fogged a familiar murky purple. Suddenly, it was as if a flood-gate had been opened. Terest felt herself become one with the Dark Side, and the world around her seemed to slip into slow motion. She felt the fury inside her, the wild fighting instinct craving the kill. The Dark Side's frenzy flowed through her, crashing like a wild river. She let herself be washed away, her knowledge of the Force barely keeping her head above water enough to direct the flow, to channel the frenzy. Her movements were far too fast to be seen, but from her perspective the world had slowed to a crawl, a nearly static vision of prey ripe for the kill. Stopping the storm nearly proved too difficult, while it had been easy to guide towards it's next victim, trying to stop the rage and clear it from her mind was another matter. Their ambushers now a blooded pile of spare parts, the fury turned towards the only living victim in the vicinity: Vant. After a furious battle, wherein she fought against her own raging body to throw her attacks off target as much as Vant actually defended himself. Finally, taking advantage of a lull in the combat, Terest desperately directed everything she had into a single mighty wall of Force, pushed with a crackling ball of violet lightning into the wall of a nearby building, where it exploded on impact and leveled the structure, taking the mad frenzy with it, and leaving an unconcious Zabrak female convulsing under her ratty cloak amidst the rubble. She spent the next several months after this event learning to tap into that flood-gate in short bursts, subjugating the wild hunger to her will, learning to summon it like a flame from a lighter- and extinguish it just as easily.
Initially using Vant's old blue lightsaber from his days as a Padawan of the Jedi Order, Terest soon progressed enough to craft her own lightsabers. With materials procured from the pockets or with the pocketbooks of their hapless victims, Terest forged a pair of silver hilted sabers, using a forge to produce a pair of synthetic crystals that gave the blades a murky purple hue, which she had carefully crafted through painstaking hours of concentration, reaching into the furnace with the Force, to match the colored tint that affected her vision during, and for an exhausted period after, the Force Rage that so changed her life. Armed now with the legendary weapons of the Sith, she cast aside her old vibroblades, surprising even herself over the amount of sentimental attachment she had to overcome to do so. As a tribute, and also out of habit, she rigged up a pair of wrist gauntlets on which to carry her lightsabers about.
Terest eventually grew tired of this hollow existence, and the filth of Nar Shadaa. Easily surpassing Vant at lightsaber combat in just over a year of daily training, she began to suspect he had not ranked very highly amongst the Jedi Order when he abandoned them for the Dark Side. She was quickly catching up with him in other areas as well. Terest could levitate and manipulate objects through the Force with ease enough, and had even learned to manifest a single thin bolt of Force Lightning ; though she scorned these practices in favor of more physical endeavors. Killing through the Force lacked the visceral pleasure she had grown to crave, the wild ecstasy that came of feeding the hunger and feeling your victims life fade away beneath your touch. Her suspicion was confirmed when, upon the emergence of the Order of the Sith, Vant suggested they both rush to Korriban to join the newly reformed Academy. In his excitement, coupled with his complete inability to make a concise statement, he let slip that he had still been a Padawan when he'd left the Jedi Order in shame, unable to complete his trials for knighthood. Eager to escape the urban wastes of the Smuggler's Moon, Terest agreed; and they were soon scouting the spaceports for passage to the ancient homeworld of the Sith.
Upon reaching Korriban, Terest and Vant sought entrance to the Sith Academy, along with a long line of hopefuls. They quickly realized they needed to set themselves apart to even get noticed. After making a ruckus outside the gates, they finally attracted the attention of the Academy staff. Vant begins his long winded appeal for entrance, detailing his background as a Padawan and then their training activities of the last few years. The staffs attention quickly began to wain. Sensing they were losing the staffs interest, Terest stepped behind the prattling Dark Jedi, and with one swift stroke of her lightsaber, removed his long-winded head. This show of ruthlessness and betrayal impressed the Sith Order far more than any speech, and earned her a place as a novice in the academy.
((Again, not sure I like the last paragraph, but I'm trying to fit into the universe somewhere))
Lightsaber: Dual wields twin silver-hilt single phase lightsabers
Color: Purple
Practiced Lightsaber forms:
Shii-Cho 2
Makashi N/A
Soresu N/A
Ataru N/A
Shien / Djem So N/A
>>Sub-form Backhanded N/A
Niman 1
>>Sub-form Jar-kai, or Dual Wield 2
Juyo N/A
Double Bladed Combat N/A
((Figured she'd have extra skill in Jar-kai philosophy just from experience with 2 weapon fighting, but this would not necessarily translate into knowledge of the Niman form))
Force-Sensitive Abilities or practices:
Telekinetic: 2
Telepathic: 1
Body: 5
Sense: 2
Protection: 0
Healing: 0
Destruction: 3
Force Rage
Specialized Skills:
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 6
Intelligence: 4
Speed: 5
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 5
Melee Weapons: 7
Ranged Weapons: 1
Force Attunement: -5
RP Sample:
Walking into the Cantina of this galaxy forsaken Desert world, Terest walked unhesitating to the bar, head held high. Her eyes noting each person in the room, and their reactions to her; though her face would never let you know she'd even seen you.
Three Gamorreans in the corner, already drunk. she noted to herself, dispatched easily enough if need be. She noted the leering eyes of several male patrons, but doubted any of them would be brave enough to approach the enormous Zabrak woman. Leaning forward onto the bar counter, she allowed the bar tender a view down her corset, before scowling at him for staring.
Men are so easy... she thought, with an internal smirk. I'll have him wrapped around my finger now. Blushing, the paunchy human stammered, "Help you with something ma'am?" Standing to her full height, she replied casually, "I doubt it." and turned her head away as if something had caught her attention.
The bartender stood there confused for a moment, before Terest continued, "I'm looking for a good fight." Her voice was cool and flat, and her gaze seemed to sweep across the bar, looking at everything but the man she was talking to. The man suddenly relaxed and began to talk loudly to her, leaning closer to her as he talked. Terest wrinkled her nose as he did, as if his stench was particularly offensive amongst the melange of odor clinging to the seedy establishment.
"Well that should be easy enough," the bartender answered in his loud overly friendly demeanor, "any one of these lot'll throw a punch soon as they'll blink at yuh. Doubt ya really want anything like that though, wouldn't wanna muss up a pretty thing like you." She sniffed, and finally turning her attention to the man, locked eyes with him, her face a disdainful snarl. Raising her voice, so all the bar could hear she replied, "Listen you pathetic little RAT! I could do away with any one of these WEAKLINGS in a second! I'm looking for a challenge!"
At this the many patrons took notice, and being none too fond of being insulted, especially by some stuck-up female, many stood up abruptly. Silence fell over the room except for the scraping of chairs, before chaos erupted. Many of the drunken patrons rushing towards her, and even those who didn't get involved initially were pulled into what had quickly become an all out brawl.
Terest's twin vibroblades seemed to leap into her hands from their mounts on her wrist, a flick of her wrist snapping out the retractable blades just as the first attacker actually reached her. He was sent to the floor as the pommel of the hilt connected with his forehead. Several more drunken fools were dispatched in a similar fashion, Terest not dealing real damage or cutting with her weapon until the Gamorreans approached. Then her durasteel met their war axes, clanging apart with the high pitched hum of the vibroblade technology. She took down all three of them quickly, her quick blades easily evading their clumsy defenses, the stench of blood rising in the air as she lopped the filthy creatures to bits.
Finally the brawl ended, everyone who hadn't fled the bar by now was either dead or on the floor, except for Terest- who stood alone panting in the middle of the room, blades ready, her eyes searching rapidly for her next victim- and the paunchy bartender- who was cowering under the bar. The battle ended, she fought to regain control and suppress the blood-lust. A flick of a switch retracted the vibroblades into their handles, which then leaped magnetically back to their perch as she simply released them. Still shaking with adrenaline, and her body exhausted from the rage, Terest reached over the bar, hauling the bartender up by his collar. Pulling him very close to her she barked out, "I... want... a... CHALLENGE."
