Davek Vore
Character
Name: Davek Vore
Faction: One Sith
Rank: Acolyte
Species: Rattataki
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 1.85 m
Weight: 83 kg
Hair: N/A
Eyes: Pale Blue
Skin: Chalk white
Force Sensitive: Yes
Strengths/Weaknesses
+Cunning and quick, like a wolf.
+Well-versed in melee combat with a variety of weapons.
-Of middling strength in the Force; will probably not be capable of great feats.
-No diplomatic skills, he is used to quick blades solving problems.
Appearance:
Taller than average and lean, he is covered in the traditional black tattoos of Rattatak. Vore also has a number of scars on his body. His usual garb is loose fitting trousers tucked into high boots and a sleeveless shirt.
Biography:
Born into a society where violence and death are commonplace was Davek Vore. Little had changed about the far-flung world since the days the Clone Wars. The people of Rattatak were still tribal, still locked in never ending fueds.
The Plague barely even touched the planet. All the Plague had accomplished was to further isolate Rattatak. Some died to be sure. Mostly those in and around the spaceport. The warlords had denied them aid, for mercy would spread the invisible reaper.
Davek was born to common tribesmen, the eldest surviving male. He grew up with blades in hand, not toys. Rattataki did not coddle their sons and daughters as others did. Warriors were always needed, fresh blood to paint the ground.
Seventeen was a turning point for Davek Vore. He was caught stealing and sent to the gladiatorial pits to die. Most convicts died quickly against the pit champions. But he didn't die die, he won. He fought males and females individually at first. Vore was quicker than them, more cunning. His long, heavy bladed vibrodaggers were brushes painting in crimson.
Then he fought pairs and groups, beasts, with shock pikes and with bare hands. His sentence was commuted after a dozen victories. Vore stayed on and his reputation grew. He fought hulking giants of two meters or more, swift ones who seemed to dance with their blades. They injured him, decorating his body with scars sometimes. He won and they died.
Seven years. Time went by and he barely noticed. His world was train and fight, wine and females after victories.
The Sith Lords had used the Rattataki as warriors in their hundreds, once. The people did not begrudge them for this. It was spoken of as a point of pride. Why else had the Dark Lords chosen them if not for their might and courage?
Sith came, unbeknownst to Vore at first. The Dark Lords watched him fight and smiled. They knew the secrets of his quickness, his almost sixth sense against deadly blows. They knew much and they told him. The One Sith had reemerged, sensing the time was right.
The shadow Lords told him the Dark side needed strong ones again. Who better than he, the mighty champion? Greatness could be his, far more than the back end of nowhere could provide....
Faction: One Sith
Rank: Acolyte
Species: Rattataki
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 1.85 m
Weight: 83 kg
Hair: N/A
Eyes: Pale Blue
Skin: Chalk white
Force Sensitive: Yes
Strengths/Weaknesses
+Cunning and quick, like a wolf.
+Well-versed in melee combat with a variety of weapons.
-Of middling strength in the Force; will probably not be capable of great feats.
-No diplomatic skills, he is used to quick blades solving problems.
Appearance:
Taller than average and lean, he is covered in the traditional black tattoos of Rattatak. Vore also has a number of scars on his body. His usual garb is loose fitting trousers tucked into high boots and a sleeveless shirt.
Biography:
Born into a society where violence and death are commonplace was Davek Vore. Little had changed about the far-flung world since the days the Clone Wars. The people of Rattatak were still tribal, still locked in never ending fueds.
The Plague barely even touched the planet. All the Plague had accomplished was to further isolate Rattatak. Some died to be sure. Mostly those in and around the spaceport. The warlords had denied them aid, for mercy would spread the invisible reaper.
Davek was born to common tribesmen, the eldest surviving male. He grew up with blades in hand, not toys. Rattataki did not coddle their sons and daughters as others did. Warriors were always needed, fresh blood to paint the ground.
Seventeen was a turning point for Davek Vore. He was caught stealing and sent to the gladiatorial pits to die. Most convicts died quickly against the pit champions. But he didn't die die, he won. He fought males and females individually at first. Vore was quicker than them, more cunning. His long, heavy bladed vibrodaggers were brushes painting in crimson.
Then he fought pairs and groups, beasts, with shock pikes and with bare hands. His sentence was commuted after a dozen victories. Vore stayed on and his reputation grew. He fought hulking giants of two meters or more, swift ones who seemed to dance with their blades. They injured him, decorating his body with scars sometimes. He won and they died.
Seven years. Time went by and he barely noticed. His world was train and fight, wine and females after victories.
The Sith Lords had used the Rattataki as warriors in their hundreds, once. The people did not begrudge them for this. It was spoken of as a point of pride. Why else had the Dark Lords chosen them if not for their might and courage?
Sith came, unbeknownst to Vore at first. The Dark Lords watched him fight and smiled. They knew the secrets of his quickness, his almost sixth sense against deadly blows. They knew much and they told him. The One Sith had reemerged, sensing the time was right.
The shadow Lords told him the Dark side needed strong ones again. Who better than he, the mighty champion? Greatness could be his, far more than the back end of nowhere could provide....