Post by Dutch on Jul 15, 2009 19:23:37 GMT -5
Faction:Republic Military
Department:Army Special Operations
Rank:Specialist
Name:Vangar Slihm (Goes by Slihm mostly)
Race: Barabel
Age:32
Height:6’10”
Weight:281
Appearance:Slihm is very large, and incredibly muscular even by Barabel standards. His scales are a deep rust color and his eyes the typical Barabel black. He has a large scar going across the left side of his chest, spreading from the center of his torso to over his shoulder and just before his hip. Like most Barabel, he doesn’t wear much in the way of clothing- his tough scales providing ample protection and coverage. He does however wear a pair of black leather pants that cut off at his shins, and a black leather harness that crosses over his chest. Slihm carries his trusty rifle strapped to his back with the harness. He wears matching leather fingerless gauntlets- Slihm always making sure that his hands and feet are unhindered and unbound.
Birth place:Ruu-teh on Barab 1
Skills:Heavy Weapons, Hand to Hand Combat, and Tracking/Detection
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 9
Intelligence: 3
Speed: 4
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 8
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 6
Alignment: +5
Bio: Van was born to a typical Barabel family, a member of the Slihm clan known for their reddish hue. His mother, Huru and his father, Shykdi did their best to raise Vangar like a typical Barabel. Teaching him to track, stalk and hunt their various prey as well as being able to identify tracks of fellow humanoids. Vangar took to his clan quickly, each member enjoying the youth’s spirit. At five he met someone very special, a young female named Rii. Vangar was quite taken by the female, even at such a young age, often losing his voice and fiddling nervously around her. As time went on, he finally began to speak to Rii, and it wasn’t long before they forged a close friendship. The pair was almost completely inseparable- Rii even joining Van with his father on hunts. It was during this time that the pair would team up on an attack, the duo proving to be a potent combo. Shykdi took note of this, and often smiled to himself as he watched his son and Rii blossom together.
At ten Vangar began to get more active in the Barabel hunts- even going on his first raid to the Roche Asteroids to hunt Verpine. Van found a new thrill on that first raid- the Verpine and himself being the same height, and that was new to him. He felt alive as he would grab the thick hide of one, twisting and snapping limbs expertly. Shykdi would watch with pride as his boy fought, knowing talent when he saw it. Rii would also come on raids sometimes, but more for support than anything, the female Barabel seeming to have a natural talent for healing. It was during these raids that Van and Rii would slowly get closer together, as Van seemed to get in over his head sometimes, getting injured, but nothing fatal at first.
At 17 Van was hurt badly, a Verpine raid gone wrong. It started well enough, Shykdi, Van and others starting the fight strong. It wasn’t until a group of mercenaries struck from out of nowhere when things went wrong. Hired by the Verpine for protection, the Barabel were caught off guard, and the fight for their life started. A few of the party died, many were injured- Vangar included. The wounded party rushed back to Barab 1, desperate to get home in time to save the wounded. Rii tended to Van’s wound exclusively- having just barely survived a grenade blast. The young woman worked sixteen hours straight on his wound, the exhausted Barabel finally relaxing once he was stabilized. Van awoke to find Rii at his side, asleep as she held his hand. It was that night that Vangar proposed to Rii.
After that night, Van took four years off from raiding to start his family, Rii having given birth to triplets. Two daughters, Tyssi and Ryssi, and a son- Shykdi, after Van’s father. Vangar was so proud of his offspring, the girls having taken after their mother in ways of healing, and Shykdi showing natural talent for combat- just like his father, and just like Van’s father. And so Vangar began to teach Skykdi just as he was taught, everything he knew, he passed onto his son. Another five years passed, Van now 27, and his clan prospered still. Now that his children were older, Vangar once more began raiding, not rusty at all due to his vigorous training with friends while raising his family.
Vangar left one evening, his father and a group of other Barabel left Barab 1 to go to the Roche Asteroids once more. The spot they chose to raid was surprisingly empty, not a soul in sight. Disappointed, Van and his team returned home, but froze at what they saw as they stepped out of the ship. Bodies lay scattered around their home- men, women, children, all dead, all with blaster scorches and other similar wounds. Van and crew spread out, weapons drawn, running from home to home, searching for any survivors. Van himself had ran straight home, but fell to his knees as he entered. Rii and the children lay still, their faces masks of pain and fear. The last thing Van remembered from that day was a sudden pain in the back of his head, then darkness.
The same mercs that had been hired by the Verpine, were also hired to exact the insectoid’s revenge. They killed nearly all the Slihm clan, except for some of Van’s raiding party. His father had fallen in the skirmish, but Van didn’t know that yet, it wasn’t until he awoke that he was told what happened by his fellow survivors. All Van could tell from where his location was that they were in a small, red stoned cave sealed by a metal cage. Van had become a widower and the father of no one at the young age of 27…
It wasn’t long before Van found out where he was- an outer rim world called Rattatak- a place known for their gladiatorial arenas. And so he was forced to fight, himself and his fellow Slihm clan members fighting viciously side by side- working together to stay alive. In the arena the Slihm saw things they never had before, everything from tireless combat droids, to young fallen Jedi looking for a thrill. All were met with the same treatment, torn apart piece by piece by the Barabel warriors. At first the crowd seemed to love it, the reptilian gladiators working together in perfect unison. But it didn’t last, the owners of the arena needed to step things up, needed something new, needed to separate the Barabels.
So after two years, Van became the last of the Slihm clan at 29. He would not give up though, battle after battle he met head on, using nothing but his own claws, tail and teeth to take down his opponents. It seemed that no matter what the Rattatak threw at him, he thwarted. It was during this time that Van became the warrior he is today, the scaled titan, a force of sheer might and will. At first Van didn’t know what he fought for- his family and clan slain, his home burned. It vexed him, but some unexplainable will just drove him, made him keep fighting, keep struggling, keep surviving, until finally, one day, his time came.
Another battle, another group of gladiators wanting to kill for glory. Van did what he did best, moving to each opponent one at a time, each meeting the same end, rendered incompetent by Van’s claws. He continued the fight until a pair of sounds echoed through the arena. snap-hiss! It happened fast, a vivid green and a deep blue blade flashing around the arena, cutting down all that attacked. The robed figures fought with grace and fluidity Van had never seen before, but knew what they were. As a man tried to sneak up on one of the robed figures, Van lunged forward, quickly breaking the assailant’s arms and tossing him beside. The two Jedi turned to face the large reptile, but were obviously surprised at his reaction. Van had knelt to the ground, his head bowed and eyes closed. The older of the two Jedi explained to the other that the Barabel for the most part had tremendous respect for the Jedi. “We have come to shut this place down, if you’d like, we can take you wherever you want when we are done.” Van merely shook his head and looked up at his rescuers. “Let me aid you here, then we ssshall ssspeak.” Van replied. The Jedi nodded, and the trio went back to work, stopping anybody that attacked, and helped those that surrendered.
After merely a few hours, the arena had been cleared, and Van was updated. It turned out that this was the last known arena on Rattatak to use slaves as gladiators, instead of volunteers. Van then told his story to the Jedi as they helped heal the wounded and aided them onto the Jedi’s ship. After stating that he felt he had nowhere to go, the older Jedi made a suggestion: Come with them to the inner core, and join the Republic military. “They could use a honed warrior such as yourself Vangar, and I’m sure you’d fit in just fine.” The older Jedi said as a calm smile dressed his lips. Van nodded and agreed to the Jedi’s idea, he had already spent the past two years fighting for his life- it was time for his fight to have a purpose.
And so at 29, Vangar Slihm was enlisted in the Army of the Republic. After merely two years in the Army, Van was entered into the Special Operations division of the army- specializing in tracking, hunting, and annihilating the Republics enemies. He tried not to think about his past, focusing on the mission on hand. It helped that every once in a while, if near a Republic friendly world, Van would go to any nearby group of Jedi, and just talk. The Jedi’s mere presence often bringing the grizzled Barabel comfort and peace, something he greatly appreciated. Van would often volunteer for missions that helped the Jedi in any way shape or form, feeling that he owed the group as a whole his life, knowing that one day, the owners of that arena would have found some way to kill him…
Three years have passed since Van joined the Republic military, now ranked at Specialist, and not wanting to be promoted further, he is now stationed in the Core planets, always ready for the next order. His 32 years of constant combat experience a large asset to the Republic’s Special Ops.
RP Sample:
A small group of people ran swiftly down a dank, metal hall, the pattering sound of drips almost in rhythm with their steps. The man in the lead made a quick fist and held it up, the group behind him coming to a halt quickly. The largest of the group crouched low and moved fluidly on all fours in front of the leader of the group. A clawed hand spread over the floor, the large being’s tail swished to and fro slowly. “Thissss way, five ssssentients, and one droid.” Hissed the large Barabel, his tongue slipping from his teeth to run over the top of them. The leader nodded and made a motion to move forward. “Slihm, take the lead. Hit fast and hard.” The leader said, his voice raspy and to the point. Vangar Slihm nodded and rose to two feet as he holstered his large rifle behind his back. “Thisss ssshould be fun!” Van said as he began to run, faster and faster towards the prey he smelt.
A massive rust colored blur exploded into the room, followed by not a second later by five fellow Republic troopers, blasters ablaze. Slihm ran at the nearest opponent, a simple battle droid by the brief glance he got of it. The machine didn’t last though as Slihm’s clawed hand quickly grabbed it’s head, and tore it off. The Barabel spun low, his long thick tail smacking the limp droid aside. He crouched low and held his arms out wide, claws fully extended and then let out a bestial roar as he ripped his claws forward across one of his prey’s chest. Blood spattered across a nearby wall, the man dropped to the floor, and slim swept forward, his other claws tearing out the throat of an enemy Twi’lek. Slihm reveled in the glory of the brawl, growling and roaring as he fought, each soft opponent smote by the Barabel’s sheer might.
The fight didn’t last long- two minutes tops. “Good work gentlemen, yet another group of smugglers down.” The leader said as he holstered his weapon. Slihm nodded in agreement then walked to a cage in the corner. A few young women looked up at the massive Barabel with fear in their innocent eyes. Van let out a series of soft hissing noises as he reached forward and grabbed the chain that held the door closed. With a quick grunt he pulled the chain free from the cage and opened the door. “It’ssss sssafe little onesss, we are here to help.” Slihm said as he stepped away from the door, motioning to the other Republic troopers who began removing blankets from their packs and handing them to the young women. Slihm stepped away from the crowd, and turned his face towards the door, sniffing as he did. “Ssssir, we have company.” Van growled as he reached back and pulled his rifle from its holster. The leader nodded and said “Take point. Gentlemen, protect the girls at all cost.” Slihm shouldered his weapon, ready to defend his team, and their precious cargo.
Department:Army Special Operations
Rank:Specialist
Name:Vangar Slihm (Goes by Slihm mostly)
Race: Barabel
Age:32
Height:6’10”
Weight:281
Appearance:Slihm is very large, and incredibly muscular even by Barabel standards. His scales are a deep rust color and his eyes the typical Barabel black. He has a large scar going across the left side of his chest, spreading from the center of his torso to over his shoulder and just before his hip. Like most Barabel, he doesn’t wear much in the way of clothing- his tough scales providing ample protection and coverage. He does however wear a pair of black leather pants that cut off at his shins, and a black leather harness that crosses over his chest. Slihm carries his trusty rifle strapped to his back with the harness. He wears matching leather fingerless gauntlets- Slihm always making sure that his hands and feet are unhindered and unbound.
Birth place:Ruu-teh on Barab 1
Skills:Heavy Weapons, Hand to Hand Combat, and Tracking/Detection
Attributes:
Physical Strength: 9
Intelligence: 3
Speed: 4
Leadership: 2
Unarmed: 8
Melee Weapons: 2
Ranged Weapons: 6
Alignment: +5
Bio: Van was born to a typical Barabel family, a member of the Slihm clan known for their reddish hue. His mother, Huru and his father, Shykdi did their best to raise Vangar like a typical Barabel. Teaching him to track, stalk and hunt their various prey as well as being able to identify tracks of fellow humanoids. Vangar took to his clan quickly, each member enjoying the youth’s spirit. At five he met someone very special, a young female named Rii. Vangar was quite taken by the female, even at such a young age, often losing his voice and fiddling nervously around her. As time went on, he finally began to speak to Rii, and it wasn’t long before they forged a close friendship. The pair was almost completely inseparable- Rii even joining Van with his father on hunts. It was during this time that the pair would team up on an attack, the duo proving to be a potent combo. Shykdi took note of this, and often smiled to himself as he watched his son and Rii blossom together.
At ten Vangar began to get more active in the Barabel hunts- even going on his first raid to the Roche Asteroids to hunt Verpine. Van found a new thrill on that first raid- the Verpine and himself being the same height, and that was new to him. He felt alive as he would grab the thick hide of one, twisting and snapping limbs expertly. Shykdi would watch with pride as his boy fought, knowing talent when he saw it. Rii would also come on raids sometimes, but more for support than anything, the female Barabel seeming to have a natural talent for healing. It was during these raids that Van and Rii would slowly get closer together, as Van seemed to get in over his head sometimes, getting injured, but nothing fatal at first.
At 17 Van was hurt badly, a Verpine raid gone wrong. It started well enough, Shykdi, Van and others starting the fight strong. It wasn’t until a group of mercenaries struck from out of nowhere when things went wrong. Hired by the Verpine for protection, the Barabel were caught off guard, and the fight for their life started. A few of the party died, many were injured- Vangar included. The wounded party rushed back to Barab 1, desperate to get home in time to save the wounded. Rii tended to Van’s wound exclusively- having just barely survived a grenade blast. The young woman worked sixteen hours straight on his wound, the exhausted Barabel finally relaxing once he was stabilized. Van awoke to find Rii at his side, asleep as she held his hand. It was that night that Vangar proposed to Rii.
After that night, Van took four years off from raiding to start his family, Rii having given birth to triplets. Two daughters, Tyssi and Ryssi, and a son- Shykdi, after Van’s father. Vangar was so proud of his offspring, the girls having taken after their mother in ways of healing, and Shykdi showing natural talent for combat- just like his father, and just like Van’s father. And so Vangar began to teach Skykdi just as he was taught, everything he knew, he passed onto his son. Another five years passed, Van now 27, and his clan prospered still. Now that his children were older, Vangar once more began raiding, not rusty at all due to his vigorous training with friends while raising his family.
Vangar left one evening, his father and a group of other Barabel left Barab 1 to go to the Roche Asteroids once more. The spot they chose to raid was surprisingly empty, not a soul in sight. Disappointed, Van and his team returned home, but froze at what they saw as they stepped out of the ship. Bodies lay scattered around their home- men, women, children, all dead, all with blaster scorches and other similar wounds. Van and crew spread out, weapons drawn, running from home to home, searching for any survivors. Van himself had ran straight home, but fell to his knees as he entered. Rii and the children lay still, their faces masks of pain and fear. The last thing Van remembered from that day was a sudden pain in the back of his head, then darkness.
The same mercs that had been hired by the Verpine, were also hired to exact the insectoid’s revenge. They killed nearly all the Slihm clan, except for some of Van’s raiding party. His father had fallen in the skirmish, but Van didn’t know that yet, it wasn’t until he awoke that he was told what happened by his fellow survivors. All Van could tell from where his location was that they were in a small, red stoned cave sealed by a metal cage. Van had become a widower and the father of no one at the young age of 27…
It wasn’t long before Van found out where he was- an outer rim world called Rattatak- a place known for their gladiatorial arenas. And so he was forced to fight, himself and his fellow Slihm clan members fighting viciously side by side- working together to stay alive. In the arena the Slihm saw things they never had before, everything from tireless combat droids, to young fallen Jedi looking for a thrill. All were met with the same treatment, torn apart piece by piece by the Barabel warriors. At first the crowd seemed to love it, the reptilian gladiators working together in perfect unison. But it didn’t last, the owners of the arena needed to step things up, needed something new, needed to separate the Barabels.
So after two years, Van became the last of the Slihm clan at 29. He would not give up though, battle after battle he met head on, using nothing but his own claws, tail and teeth to take down his opponents. It seemed that no matter what the Rattatak threw at him, he thwarted. It was during this time that Van became the warrior he is today, the scaled titan, a force of sheer might and will. At first Van didn’t know what he fought for- his family and clan slain, his home burned. It vexed him, but some unexplainable will just drove him, made him keep fighting, keep struggling, keep surviving, until finally, one day, his time came.
Another battle, another group of gladiators wanting to kill for glory. Van did what he did best, moving to each opponent one at a time, each meeting the same end, rendered incompetent by Van’s claws. He continued the fight until a pair of sounds echoed through the arena. snap-hiss! It happened fast, a vivid green and a deep blue blade flashing around the arena, cutting down all that attacked. The robed figures fought with grace and fluidity Van had never seen before, but knew what they were. As a man tried to sneak up on one of the robed figures, Van lunged forward, quickly breaking the assailant’s arms and tossing him beside. The two Jedi turned to face the large reptile, but were obviously surprised at his reaction. Van had knelt to the ground, his head bowed and eyes closed. The older of the two Jedi explained to the other that the Barabel for the most part had tremendous respect for the Jedi. “We have come to shut this place down, if you’d like, we can take you wherever you want when we are done.” Van merely shook his head and looked up at his rescuers. “Let me aid you here, then we ssshall ssspeak.” Van replied. The Jedi nodded, and the trio went back to work, stopping anybody that attacked, and helped those that surrendered.
After merely a few hours, the arena had been cleared, and Van was updated. It turned out that this was the last known arena on Rattatak to use slaves as gladiators, instead of volunteers. Van then told his story to the Jedi as they helped heal the wounded and aided them onto the Jedi’s ship. After stating that he felt he had nowhere to go, the older Jedi made a suggestion: Come with them to the inner core, and join the Republic military. “They could use a honed warrior such as yourself Vangar, and I’m sure you’d fit in just fine.” The older Jedi said as a calm smile dressed his lips. Van nodded and agreed to the Jedi’s idea, he had already spent the past two years fighting for his life- it was time for his fight to have a purpose.
And so at 29, Vangar Slihm was enlisted in the Army of the Republic. After merely two years in the Army, Van was entered into the Special Operations division of the army- specializing in tracking, hunting, and annihilating the Republics enemies. He tried not to think about his past, focusing on the mission on hand. It helped that every once in a while, if near a Republic friendly world, Van would go to any nearby group of Jedi, and just talk. The Jedi’s mere presence often bringing the grizzled Barabel comfort and peace, something he greatly appreciated. Van would often volunteer for missions that helped the Jedi in any way shape or form, feeling that he owed the group as a whole his life, knowing that one day, the owners of that arena would have found some way to kill him…
Three years have passed since Van joined the Republic military, now ranked at Specialist, and not wanting to be promoted further, he is now stationed in the Core planets, always ready for the next order. His 32 years of constant combat experience a large asset to the Republic’s Special Ops.
RP Sample:
A small group of people ran swiftly down a dank, metal hall, the pattering sound of drips almost in rhythm with their steps. The man in the lead made a quick fist and held it up, the group behind him coming to a halt quickly. The largest of the group crouched low and moved fluidly on all fours in front of the leader of the group. A clawed hand spread over the floor, the large being’s tail swished to and fro slowly. “Thissss way, five ssssentients, and one droid.” Hissed the large Barabel, his tongue slipping from his teeth to run over the top of them. The leader nodded and made a motion to move forward. “Slihm, take the lead. Hit fast and hard.” The leader said, his voice raspy and to the point. Vangar Slihm nodded and rose to two feet as he holstered his large rifle behind his back. “Thisss ssshould be fun!” Van said as he began to run, faster and faster towards the prey he smelt.
A massive rust colored blur exploded into the room, followed by not a second later by five fellow Republic troopers, blasters ablaze. Slihm ran at the nearest opponent, a simple battle droid by the brief glance he got of it. The machine didn’t last though as Slihm’s clawed hand quickly grabbed it’s head, and tore it off. The Barabel spun low, his long thick tail smacking the limp droid aside. He crouched low and held his arms out wide, claws fully extended and then let out a bestial roar as he ripped his claws forward across one of his prey’s chest. Blood spattered across a nearby wall, the man dropped to the floor, and slim swept forward, his other claws tearing out the throat of an enemy Twi’lek. Slihm reveled in the glory of the brawl, growling and roaring as he fought, each soft opponent smote by the Barabel’s sheer might.
The fight didn’t last long- two minutes tops. “Good work gentlemen, yet another group of smugglers down.” The leader said as he holstered his weapon. Slihm nodded in agreement then walked to a cage in the corner. A few young women looked up at the massive Barabel with fear in their innocent eyes. Van let out a series of soft hissing noises as he reached forward and grabbed the chain that held the door closed. With a quick grunt he pulled the chain free from the cage and opened the door. “It’ssss sssafe little onesss, we are here to help.” Slihm said as he stepped away from the door, motioning to the other Republic troopers who began removing blankets from their packs and handing them to the young women. Slihm stepped away from the crowd, and turned his face towards the door, sniffing as he did. “Ssssir, we have company.” Van growled as he reached back and pulled his rifle from its holster. The leader nodded and said “Take point. Gentlemen, protect the girls at all cost.” Slihm shouldered his weapon, ready to defend his team, and their precious cargo.
