Khar Drakkar
New Member
"You wanna know who am I...? I'll fraking tell you who; Im the one you would wish dead. Now, about that debt of yours..."
NAME: Khar Drakkar
FACTION: The Black Krayts Syndicate
RANK: Outlaw
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 36.
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: T1,98m
WEIGHT: 120kg
EYES: Green
HAIR: Long braided brown
SKIN: Tan
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes, but only passive mental protection skills, as he was never taught of the "Force"
STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES:
- Decisive
- Keen Mind
- Hot-blooded
- Short in manners
APPEARANCE:
Tall, stout figure with characteristic harsh accent and rather "colourful" sentances. He is always dressed with a patchwork of ragged grey or black clothes and trophy jewelry, with a bone medallion from always hanging by his neck. His right elbow and palm is replaced with a durasteel cybernetic arm, which's claws are razor sharp and its elbow able to support wrist rocket launcher, hidden blade, or Personal Shield Generator, according to his preference.
BIOGRAPHY:
The palace is quiet. The green mist of the dusked sky deprives any detail of the rustyard beneath the hill. The gates are half-opened; Trandoshan guards piked by their throats on their own electropikes, left standing as if they never died. The ghostly echoes from the battle before still flies like whispers of the dead, through the large halls, now ill-lit by the malfunctioning lamps; Those that were not shot by accident during the fight, that is... Many fiery circles paint the walls, still smoking by the heat of the blasterfire carving them not too long ago. "Pff..." the heavy exhale of the tall black-clothed figure sounds, breaking the silence as his leg knocks off the arm, closer to the rest of the corpse of the mercenary Weequay guard, marked by a deep claw cut on the chest. The blood stains on the dark figure's cybernetic right arm sparkles as it is exposed to the dim light of the lamps, while he makes his way deeper into the Hutt palace...
The Feasting hall is empty. His green eyes menacingly scan the room, seeing no further movement but the few Gaungauns, struggling to crawl towards the exit. He did not pitty them. Anyone being in such a perverted land, feasting under the Hutts is as guilty as the next... And he cared little of the flower that might have been caught amist the pyre woodstock... He just lighted it ablaze....
Walking off, to the inner sanctium, he leaves the site, with the musicians still on their instruments, layered with blasterfire holes, while the blood connects in patters on the ground with the alien dead and dying. "Bic cuyir narir, Khar. Naasade atiu kemir o'r olar..." the woman's voice rings in the earpiece. "Nayc. Cad olyay solus sto" Khar replied, as he pushes the heavy doors with both his arms, entering the chamber. The Hutt lied by the couch, clearly stressed, as his tinny hands were occupied with a holopad. A security feed, most likely. Struggling meanwhile to contact outsider help. Alas... The signal would seem jammed...
"Youkesa, kouuice bo! Dotkot nobata dayan che tah!" the Hutt intoned, weaving his tinny arms around his sweat-covered slime worm form.
"You had your chance"
...
The sudden blazes of the blaster intro the rapid echoes of th fire that shakes the nightmarish ghoul-like vultures off the rotting branches down the valley. The large Mandalorian shuttle, dyed with black colors and feral symbols awaited, as Khar walked away from the palace, to the Mandalorians....
"A fine bounty, Khar... You kept your word" one of the gathered warriors spoke, nodding his helmet in approval.
"I did. Now you hold onto yours" Khar replies, jumping quickly onboard, sparing little words or even turning his eyes to the Mando.
And so, the shuttle takes off, leaving the swamps as they head to the Azalus-Class cruiser, patiently awaiting them above the atmosphere... Khar looks over to the pirate cruiser, as he stood over the two shuttle pilots, holding onto their seats with his arms. A greedy smile forms on his ill-shaved face.
"Now then... Let's make ourselves rich...!"
SHIP:
Coming soon!
KILLS:
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BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
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ROLE-PLAYS:
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