Kayanna Djo
When Rock and Water collide
Exile of the Singing Mountain and Misty Falls
OverviewName: Kayanna Djo
Species: Dathomiri
Birthplace: The Misty Falls of Dathomir
Age: 31
Gender: Female
- Overall Physique: Athletic, muscular
- Height: 5'11"
- Eye Color: Sapphire
- Hair Color: Burnt brown
- Skin Tone: Pale, with the slight kiss of sun
- Distinguishing Features and General Appearance: Often painted in the markings of her former tribes, more out of nostalgia than true respect, she stands a moderate height with a figure that details the ware and tear of a primitive life. Prone to wearing more archaic forms of clothing, she is often garbed in leathers or furs and animal skins. She is rarely seen without her head ware, covering long locks of coiled brown hair, which her mother gave her once she reached the proper age to capture a mate.
Strengths and Weaknesses
Strengths:[+]Force potency: While lacking the true sort of control that force users often strive for, Kayanna displays a potent natural inclination for harnessing the force. This manifests in the form of spells, woven through hand gesture and twists of the tongue.
[+]Hand to hand combat: Kayanna was trained by her family to wield melee weapon as if it was merely extension of limb. As such, combat come easy to her. The same could be said of range based weapons, including bows.
Weaknesses:
[-]Isolated: Kayanna has been thrown to the wolves, by her clans, and it's entirely of her own doing. The nature of her circumstance, as well as the reasons for her departure from home and family, weigh heavily on her mind and her point of view. She often comes off negative or pessimistic, though this also manifests in a sense of melancholy that can affect progress and the capacity to learn.
[-]Mentally and spiritually unstable: Kayanna has lost her way, in more ways than she knows. Having split from the foundation of her life, she strafes towards the darkside in search of vengeance and reprieve. Heart torn open by tragedy, her mind struggles to make amends and heal.
Biography
Her story began in an unusual way. In the Misty Falls of Dathomir, with love. In the society defined by matriarchy, with men confined to the purpose of breeding, her mother found friendship. Removed from capture or enslavement of rivalry clans, she discovered warm embrace in the arms of a distant traveler. A Dathomir male, who had escaped from the life of servitude, only to return when his family needed him.
On that day, The Misty Falls and the Singing Mountain conceived Kayanna Djo, one who would eventually belong to neither.
She was raised in the duality of regional expanse, the flowing water and the tall standing mountains of Dathomir. Raised predominantly in the rural and wild cultures of the Witches of Dathomir, she was occasionally secreted away to learn of the universe from her defiant father. Her grandmother blamed that man for Kayanna’s eternal rebelliousness, sapphire eyes gleaming with stories of adventure and heroics and space travel. Unlike those around her who often dreaded it, she found joy in the thawing of the Shattered Ridge snow tops, in the forecasting of the Wild Hunt. Excitement, for her, hinged on things far removed from hunting Rancor and chasing down mates.
It was a small matter of debt, he stated, as he anxiously moved through the home to gather up the family and their goods. But there was no time and if Kayanna could really look back, analyze the past, she might have seen that. Instead, all she could see is rage. Rage towards her father and rage towards these unwelcome guests. Soldiers poured out from the ship as it landed, crushing the home of her grandmother and elders, as mercenaries lit up the night with fire and death.
Many women and men died, more than what was needed. Among all the Witches of Dathomir, there is a singular binding agreement: Never Concede to Evil. By the Book of Law, by the founder Allya, this was the unifying theme of the Witches of Dathomir. To diverge from this, to give into the darkside and to the Son, it was grounds for exile or worse. But the rest of the Clan didn’t respond in time, they couldn’t help, and they left a defiant and rebellious woman alone with nothing but a wall behind her and the enemies that marched into her world.
Spells of light and dark, fueled by rage and desperation, pushed her across the village. Weapons of metal and wood, magics of archaic origin, cut through the air. Until she found exhaustion on the forest floor, knees scraping across exposed and burned earth, as the wounded captain soared back through the sky. All around her, the blood of family and enemies laid pooled beneath the cool breeze of the waterfalls. She recalled the way he scampered, that Captain, dragging wounded leg behind him, pulling the spear from her mother's chest. She couldn’t recall crying or mourning, though others would attest to the fact that it occurred. She held her mother and her father in her arms, cursing the tragedy that had befallen them. And she struck from her memory the burning tree, carcasses hanging from taut rope, set ablaze to signal her clan members for the help she would never receive.
A trial was held, but it felt more like a mockery. No nuance, no extenuating circumstances. Kayanna had dived deep into the abyss of Nightsister territory and above all else, she held no remorse or regret. The elders of the Misty Falls and the Singing Mountain agreed. She would be exiled, only to return when she had been purified by the light. Else, she would make bedfellows of the Nightsisters, never to rise whole again.
And as she put her remaining clan behind the thrusters of her father’s vessel, she swore she would have vengeance. Against that criminal who killed her family, against the people who couldn’t save them, against the clan that had forgotten her.
Ships and Worldly Possessions
~42 Meter Mesen'Loras
