Mirvak
Some chains are better left unbroken.
Mirvak
BASIC INFO
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NAME: Mirvak
FACTION: None.
RANK: Sith Acolyte.
SPECIES: Worgian.
AGE: Unknown, young adult.
SEX: Male.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes.
VOICE SAMPLE: Khazrak One-Eye (TW:WH)
APPEARANCE
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HEIGHT: 2.5m/8'5"
WEIGHT: 243kg/535lbs
EYES: Yellow.
HAIR: Black.
SKIN: Black.
GENERAL DESCRIPTION: Mirvak is a hulking mass of a beast, his body pockmarked with scars of various types where the thick coarse fur no longer grows. His body has been maimed severely by past trials, the most prominent of these being massive scald scars. They run all the way up his right arm to the upper right side of his skull, having destroyed his right eye and exposed his scalp just a little beyond his right ear. The hair no longer grows here, only thick, mottled scars remain.
The beast covers himself in unassuming rags, and a hood to cover his hideous, terrifying visage.
CHARACTER TRAITS
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STRENGTHS:
+ Brute
Mirvak owes his imposing strength and physical resistance to years of slavery in barbaric pit fighting arenas that would make gladiatorial combat look like a civilized holo-opera.
+ Frenzy
When in combat, Mirvak will give his all to destroy his enemies. Using his overpowering stature and strength, he “loses himself” to more baser instincts, a Worgian self-defense mechanism that he has honed quite efficiently. In this state, he ignores greater amounts of pain and is not likely to rout from a battle.
+ Despicable Monster
The giant black embodiment of dark side rage can terrify the uninitiated quite easily.
+ Malicious Intellect
While not formally educated, Mirvak has learned from his headstrong ways and has honed himself into a regular Sith conspirator. His bestial and ferocious nature in combat would lend people to believe he is some kind of simple minded creature, when infact he possesses a dark, cunning intelligence.
WEAKNESSES:
- Massive
Mirvak is incredibly huge, and as a result is a larger target, cannot hide except in total darkness, and cannot accelerate quickly.
- Blind Rage
Worgians by nature are already prone to being flung into a fit of rage if provoked, Mirvak has had to use this natural instinct to survive on so many occasions in the pits that the switch is always just a chin hair away from being flicked. Pain, humiliation, the risk of failure, and desperation can easily set him into this state. When in this state, the lines between friend and foe can become fuzzy. Not to mention his attacks, while much stronger, are completely uncoordinated and rely on just that, strength, and nothing else.
- Self-preserving
Don't expect Mirvak to stick his neck out for you. While he's no stranger to pain or defeat, if his survival means leaving you behind, he will unless given further incentive.
- Detests Blasters
Mirvak is terrible with a blaster.
- Technically Illiterate
Mirvak is not aware of how to operate advanced machinery and computers, but can manage with most vehicles.
MISC:
Ultra Individualist
Mirvak conflates any sort of hierarchy where he is not on top as being a "slave" or "lackey," as that is what he grew up knowing when he was a pup. If there are not great incentives for him staying a subordinate, he will attempt to strike his master down in their moment of weakness.
Dislikes Hutts
Having been made into the monster that he is today as result of a Hutt who owned him, he despises Hutts.
Warrior-Ascetic
Mirvak denies himself the luxuries and pleasantries that could otherwise be easily accessible to him on the notion that frivolous pleasures makes one weak.
BIOGRAPHY
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Prologue
Unwanted
It is unknown how Mirvak came into the slave trade, even to him. Perhaps his parents, desperate for credits, sold him. Maybe he was taken in his sleep, or was orphaned somehow. Whatever the case, it doesn't make a difference to Mirvak or the slavers hands he has passed through. He remained in the cargo hold of his masters indefinitely as other slaves came and went, as no one wanted to purchase a young pup with no family. The slavers' customers wanted to buy servants, not adopt, and it was a "proven fact" that children slaves without mothers or fathers would grow to rebel against their owners. So, Mirvak remained in the slave pens.
While Mirvak did have a few run ins with maternal captives that attempted to take him under their wing, it never mattered, they would be gone soon and Mirvak would not be going with. The repeated grief taught him to ignore his fellow slaves, he didn't want a family or friends if it meant they'd get taken from him again and again. Instead, he learned to rely on himself fully. Mirvak had to steal scraps of rations from other slaves, and he had to fight to keep what food he did get. This made him an even worse prospect for ownership, as being dependent on your master is a keystone of indentured servitude.
Seeing as Mirvak could not easily be sold, the slavers showed some pity on him and took him out of the cargo hold where the slaves were kept. He was employed as a servant around the ship, cleaning, delivering things to and fro, simple errands the pup could handle. But the slavers could never gain Mirvak's trust, and how could they when he had been their captive for so long? He had no recollection of why he was a slave, but his earliest memories were not of this dank, unwelcoming hell of a ship he was kept in. They were so early and abstract that they usually only came to him in his dreams. Happiness, safety, no worries, and love. Whenever he awoke, he would push those memories away, what's the point? Though he was a naive pup, he knew that hope was his biggest enemy in this life, it would crush him faster than the enraged wookies being held on the D deck.
So Mirvak survived as the pup servant, because he knew nothing else. Why throw away the full portioned meals, despite how disgusting, the bed, despite how thin, or the limited freedom, despite how artificial? He had even learned how to read a little basic. But he yearned for something greater, he yearned to go beyond the leash of his master when they landed on a new planet or station. And so, Mirvak began his attempts to escape. The first time, he was given less food and put back in his pen. The second, bread and water and sent back in the pen. The third, he was beaten and put back in the pen for a month. His masters warned that next time he would return to the pen and never come back, so he bid his time.
By this time he had reached adolescence, he was ready for his grand escape. It was a simple plan, but it could pay off if done correctly. Mirvak knew (through his second escape attempt) that the escape pods were locked down and could only be launched if the captain or his lieutenants gave the authorization code. But, with the meager reading skills he had acquired through servitude he deduced the warning labels on either side of the escape pod doors. It read,"IN... CASE... OF..." Now what was that word? Em.. Emarrr.. Emerrr.. "EMERGENCY. POD RE.." Reh.. St... Strick-teeon? Restrictions! "Pod restrictions re-.." Relllll-uh. Rell. Ree-leeassedduh. "In case of emergency, pod restrictions released."
It took him a while to process that, but he realized that if the ship was put into an emergency status, the pods would allow anyone to leave. But how would he do that? That's when he remembered that the cook droid had set off the aging ship's fire emergency protocol when it had burned a large batch of slave rations. So the plan was devised, start a fire over orbit of some planet, get the ship thrown into emergency status, and he would ride out of here. Once he landed he would find a way to pry off his tracking collar and blend into the planet's population. Using his skills acquired in the slave holds, he stole a small blaster from the armory and hid it away. They landed on Nar Shaddaa to sell, and as usual Mirvak was passed up. "Maybe next time, buddy." The slaver captain said, feigning pity for the adolescent Worgian. And as usual, the rest of the slaves went back into the pins, and Mirvak returned to cleaning duty.
Now, Mirvak was planning to start his escape on a much more hospitable planet. Nar Shaddaa was not that, not for an young, uninitiated slave anyway. But those words his master had spoke to him, he wanted so badly to rub it in his face. He uncontrollably smirked at the idea of the captain's last words to him being that hopeful statement. So, he retrieved the stolen blaster from under his mattress in the janitor's closet, and he made his way to the escape pods. Passing by all the stoic, uncaring faces of the slavers he would see for the last time, he could barely hold in his grin that the plan would come off.
He made it to the escape pod deck without anyone stopping him, why wouldn't they anyway? He hadn't made an escape attempt in over a year, he was 'broken' for all intents and purposes. He pulled out the blaster, fumbling with the charge pack he got it in after some difficulty. He turned off the safety and fired the blaster several times into a bundle of wires hanging in the ceiling above him. A fire instantly started and the ship went into fire emergency. He cast the blaster aside and opened an escape pod, it was over ridden by the emergency lockdown just as he had planned.
Without thinking about it, he buckled himself in and launched himself. His overwhelming joy turned into a sense of dread as many fast moving ships were approaching him, some zipping past his escape pod already. He gripped the joystick of the escape pod, and veered side to side, up and down. But despite his panic, something inside Mirvak guided him. His body became one with the little pod, and it was like he knew the path he had to take through all the orbital traffic to make it safely.
Mirvak awoke suddenly with a pair of hands ripping him out of the seat, and he was thrown onto the wet pavement. The last thing he saw before passing out again was his master scowling down at him. Turns out the tracker on Mirvak's collar had more signal range than he thought.
While Mirvak did have a few run ins with maternal captives that attempted to take him under their wing, it never mattered, they would be gone soon and Mirvak would not be going with. The repeated grief taught him to ignore his fellow slaves, he didn't want a family or friends if it meant they'd get taken from him again and again. Instead, he learned to rely on himself fully. Mirvak had to steal scraps of rations from other slaves, and he had to fight to keep what food he did get. This made him an even worse prospect for ownership, as being dependent on your master is a keystone of indentured servitude.
Seeing as Mirvak could not easily be sold, the slavers showed some pity on him and took him out of the cargo hold where the slaves were kept. He was employed as a servant around the ship, cleaning, delivering things to and fro, simple errands the pup could handle. But the slavers could never gain Mirvak's trust, and how could they when he had been their captive for so long? He had no recollection of why he was a slave, but his earliest memories were not of this dank, unwelcoming hell of a ship he was kept in. They were so early and abstract that they usually only came to him in his dreams. Happiness, safety, no worries, and love. Whenever he awoke, he would push those memories away, what's the point? Though he was a naive pup, he knew that hope was his biggest enemy in this life, it would crush him faster than the enraged wookies being held on the D deck.
So Mirvak survived as the pup servant, because he knew nothing else. Why throw away the full portioned meals, despite how disgusting, the bed, despite how thin, or the limited freedom, despite how artificial? He had even learned how to read a little basic. But he yearned for something greater, he yearned to go beyond the leash of his master when they landed on a new planet or station. And so, Mirvak began his attempts to escape. The first time, he was given less food and put back in his pen. The second, bread and water and sent back in the pen. The third, he was beaten and put back in the pen for a month. His masters warned that next time he would return to the pen and never come back, so he bid his time.
By this time he had reached adolescence, he was ready for his grand escape. It was a simple plan, but it could pay off if done correctly. Mirvak knew (through his second escape attempt) that the escape pods were locked down and could only be launched if the captain or his lieutenants gave the authorization code. But, with the meager reading skills he had acquired through servitude he deduced the warning labels on either side of the escape pod doors. It read,"IN... CASE... OF..." Now what was that word? Em.. Emarrr.. Emerrr.. "EMERGENCY. POD RE.." Reh.. St... Strick-teeon? Restrictions! "Pod restrictions re-.." Relllll-uh. Rell. Ree-leeassedduh. "In case of emergency, pod restrictions released."
It took him a while to process that, but he realized that if the ship was put into an emergency status, the pods would allow anyone to leave. But how would he do that? That's when he remembered that the cook droid had set off the aging ship's fire emergency protocol when it had burned a large batch of slave rations. So the plan was devised, start a fire over orbit of some planet, get the ship thrown into emergency status, and he would ride out of here. Once he landed he would find a way to pry off his tracking collar and blend into the planet's population. Using his skills acquired in the slave holds, he stole a small blaster from the armory and hid it away. They landed on Nar Shaddaa to sell, and as usual Mirvak was passed up. "Maybe next time, buddy." The slaver captain said, feigning pity for the adolescent Worgian. And as usual, the rest of the slaves went back into the pins, and Mirvak returned to cleaning duty.
Now, Mirvak was planning to start his escape on a much more hospitable planet. Nar Shaddaa was not that, not for an young, uninitiated slave anyway. But those words his master had spoke to him, he wanted so badly to rub it in his face. He uncontrollably smirked at the idea of the captain's last words to him being that hopeful statement. So, he retrieved the stolen blaster from under his mattress in the janitor's closet, and he made his way to the escape pods. Passing by all the stoic, uncaring faces of the slavers he would see for the last time, he could barely hold in his grin that the plan would come off.
He made it to the escape pod deck without anyone stopping him, why wouldn't they anyway? He hadn't made an escape attempt in over a year, he was 'broken' for all intents and purposes. He pulled out the blaster, fumbling with the charge pack he got it in after some difficulty. He turned off the safety and fired the blaster several times into a bundle of wires hanging in the ceiling above him. A fire instantly started and the ship went into fire emergency. He cast the blaster aside and opened an escape pod, it was over ridden by the emergency lockdown just as he had planned.
Without thinking about it, he buckled himself in and launched himself. His overwhelming joy turned into a sense of dread as many fast moving ships were approaching him, some zipping past his escape pod already. He gripped the joystick of the escape pod, and veered side to side, up and down. But despite his panic, something inside Mirvak guided him. His body became one with the little pod, and it was like he knew the path he had to take through all the orbital traffic to make it safely.
Mirvak awoke suddenly with a pair of hands ripping him out of the seat, and he was thrown onto the wet pavement. The last thing he saw before passing out again was his master scowling down at him. Turns out the tracker on Mirvak's collar had more signal range than he thought.
Ungrateful Slave
After that final escape attempt, he was sold off to a Tivva the Hutt by some astronomical act of luck. Tivva had seen the whole event, the young Worgian had crash landed a few blocks away as the Hutt was entering his speeder-limo. The Hutt ordered his driver to get closer, and when the slavers arrived, he recognized instantly what was going on. Tivva had an obsession with those who overcame insurmountable odds, he would 'collect' them from whatever situation they were in and groom them to be loyal members of his crime family. So, Tivva purchased him from the slavers right there as they were figuring out what to do with him.
Tivva was a notable Hutt who controlled a large amount of the black market on Nar Shaddaa. Tivva offered Mirvak a choice. He would work for Tivva and be a free Worgian, or he could go back to the slavers. Mirvak was shortly employed in Tivva's services after that conversation. He became something of an errand boy, delivering messages to smugglers who Tivva did not personally want to meet, dropping off bribes for local law enforcement, and spying on rival gangs. It reminded him of his first job, yet he had the entire city and all its levels to roam. For now, it seemed, his lust for freedom was somewhat quenched. But he knew this was not true freedom.
This was a cozy life style for any slave, but for Mirvak it was humiliating. He hated remaining a slave but not being called what he was. He yearned to break his chains completely, and the more he was entrusted to leave the Hutt's sanctuary on his own, the more he observed the depraved denizens of Nar Shaddaa, free and unbound by anyone. He devised and ill-thought out plan, where he stole a handful of credits from the Hutt's coffers, and ran off course on one of his bribery jobs. His slave collar would notify the slave masters within a few minutes that he was off course, he knew that. He offered the 300 or so credits to a spiced-up Nemoidian, to help him to take the collar off. The drug addict swiped the credits from him and put him in a headlock until the slave masters arrived.
Fearing the worst, Mirvak stood before the mighty Tivva, trembling. He had seen what the crimelord had done to those who had wronged him. As the Hutt scolded Mirvak and insisted that the young Worgian was being ungrateful, something sparked inside the young lad. A whirl of images collided in his head, the laughing drunks of the upper levels free to do as they please, the smugglers of the underworld who flew ships from one end of the galaxy to the other, the wretch who betrayed him, and the thought that he would never be among the free. Rage swirled up inside him, and his hairs stood on end.
In a sudden roar, the young Worgian slashed and bit the hand of the slave master holding him, and climbed up the gelatinous mass of Tivva, up to his neck. He raised his right paw to the sky and brought it down on the eye of the left screaming Hutt.
Tivva was a notable Hutt who controlled a large amount of the black market on Nar Shaddaa. Tivva offered Mirvak a choice. He would work for Tivva and be a free Worgian, or he could go back to the slavers. Mirvak was shortly employed in Tivva's services after that conversation. He became something of an errand boy, delivering messages to smugglers who Tivva did not personally want to meet, dropping off bribes for local law enforcement, and spying on rival gangs. It reminded him of his first job, yet he had the entire city and all its levels to roam. For now, it seemed, his lust for freedom was somewhat quenched. But he knew this was not true freedom.
This was a cozy life style for any slave, but for Mirvak it was humiliating. He hated remaining a slave but not being called what he was. He yearned to break his chains completely, and the more he was entrusted to leave the Hutt's sanctuary on his own, the more he observed the depraved denizens of Nar Shaddaa, free and unbound by anyone. He devised and ill-thought out plan, where he stole a handful of credits from the Hutt's coffers, and ran off course on one of his bribery jobs. His slave collar would notify the slave masters within a few minutes that he was off course, he knew that. He offered the 300 or so credits to a spiced-up Nemoidian, to help him to take the collar off. The drug addict swiped the credits from him and put him in a headlock until the slave masters arrived.
Fearing the worst, Mirvak stood before the mighty Tivva, trembling. He had seen what the crimelord had done to those who had wronged him. As the Hutt scolded Mirvak and insisted that the young Worgian was being ungrateful, something sparked inside the young lad. A whirl of images collided in his head, the laughing drunks of the upper levels free to do as they please, the smugglers of the underworld who flew ships from one end of the galaxy to the other, the wretch who betrayed him, and the thought that he would never be among the free. Rage swirled up inside him, and his hairs stood on end.
In a sudden roar, the young Worgian slashed and bit the hand of the slave master holding him, and climbed up the gelatinous mass of Tivva, up to his neck. He raised his right paw to the sky and brought it down on the eye of the left screaming Hutt.
Sentenced to the Pits
Tivva was left scarred for life, his 'beautiful' eye as he called it having to be replaced by a 'horrendous' cyborg one. The young Worgian was beaten, tazed, and starved for days. For Mirvak, he was sure he would soon be breathing his last, laying on the cold metal floor of the brig in the Hutt's palace. Suddenly he was dragged out before Tivva yet again, and the Hutt, barely able to contain the false sense of hospitality, told Mirvak hat he would spare him yet. He would give Mirvak the chance to survive. And more than that, he would give him the chance to survive every single day for the rest of his life, until his chances ran out.
Tivva was a sucker for illegal deathmatches. But he preferred to host them in his own home rather than travel to other crime worlds where he would be a target. He pitted all sorts of criminals, smugglers, law enforcement agents who had wronged him against each other or against dangerous, enraged animals. Though he would usually allow the victor to leave with his life, a lesson to never cross Tivva again, Mirvak's sentence was simple. He would remain in the pits until he died.
"But in this state the fight would be no sport!" Tivva said, mocking Mirvak's starved and beaten condition. So he had Mirvak healed, and trained by his retired pit fighter and security chief, Rendus Vektano. A human merc who had ended up in the pits a decade ago and was bought his freedom after catching Tivva's eye. Mirvak at first resisted, but his shock collar and the threat of instant death gave him enough incentive to learn the ways of the pit fighter. Rendus showed no care nor mercy to Mirvak, his training sessions were more like beat downs than real lessons. But Mirvak, desperate to survive if for nothing else but to spite the Tivva the Hutt, persevered.
A month of brutal training passed with many trips to the medical bay of the palace, when Tivva's patience ran out. He wanted to see the Worgian's fighting prowess. So Mirvak was sentenced to his first fight, and not the last. A Togruta smuggler armed with club, and Mirvak who wielded just a shield. Some kind of sick joke by Tivva that neither had a full armament, no doubt. Mirvak was anxious, scared. He had been in many fights before, but those were just little scraps over who would get the last rations. He had never had to fight for his life. His fear slowly overtook him, as the smuggler bared down on him, beating into his shield with the club repeatedly. Mirvak held the shield high, on the retreat as he shuffled around the pit, away from the Togruta.
The Hutt's chortling from above, along with that of the slave masters, swirled around his head. The room began to get fuzzy, as Mirvak's eyes darting to the grill in the roof above, to the Togruta's desperate face, to his hand raising the club for another blow. The fear of death and humiliation came to a point where Mirvak was on the verge of panic, but something else happened. The Hutt's laugh pierced his soul. "Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!" In an instant, all his fear culminated into an immense rage, the same he felt when he had took Tivva's eye. It was as if a crucible was crushing the unstable fear into something much more simple.
Mirvak suddenly came back to his senses, his canines dug deep into the Togruta's neck. The smuggler's eyes were lifeless, as Mirvak released his jaw from the criminal and stood away. His torso was marked with deep gnashes, cuts, and his neck and face by terrible bite marks. The whole world was silent as Mirvak studied his blood covered claws. As the rest of his senses came back to him, he heard that piercing chuckle. "Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Ma yacha no Mirvak neecha! Ha-ha-ha!"
Tivva was a sucker for illegal deathmatches. But he preferred to host them in his own home rather than travel to other crime worlds where he would be a target. He pitted all sorts of criminals, smugglers, law enforcement agents who had wronged him against each other or against dangerous, enraged animals. Though he would usually allow the victor to leave with his life, a lesson to never cross Tivva again, Mirvak's sentence was simple. He would remain in the pits until he died.
"But in this state the fight would be no sport!" Tivva said, mocking Mirvak's starved and beaten condition. So he had Mirvak healed, and trained by his retired pit fighter and security chief, Rendus Vektano. A human merc who had ended up in the pits a decade ago and was bought his freedom after catching Tivva's eye. Mirvak at first resisted, but his shock collar and the threat of instant death gave him enough incentive to learn the ways of the pit fighter. Rendus showed no care nor mercy to Mirvak, his training sessions were more like beat downs than real lessons. But Mirvak, desperate to survive if for nothing else but to spite the Tivva the Hutt, persevered.
A month of brutal training passed with many trips to the medical bay of the palace, when Tivva's patience ran out. He wanted to see the Worgian's fighting prowess. So Mirvak was sentenced to his first fight, and not the last. A Togruta smuggler armed with club, and Mirvak who wielded just a shield. Some kind of sick joke by Tivva that neither had a full armament, no doubt. Mirvak was anxious, scared. He had been in many fights before, but those were just little scraps over who would get the last rations. He had never had to fight for his life. His fear slowly overtook him, as the smuggler bared down on him, beating into his shield with the club repeatedly. Mirvak held the shield high, on the retreat as he shuffled around the pit, away from the Togruta.
The Hutt's chortling from above, along with that of the slave masters, swirled around his head. The room began to get fuzzy, as Mirvak's eyes darting to the grill in the roof above, to the Togruta's desperate face, to his hand raising the club for another blow. The fear of death and humiliation came to a point where Mirvak was on the verge of panic, but something else happened. The Hutt's laugh pierced his soul. "Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!" In an instant, all his fear culminated into an immense rage, the same he felt when he had took Tivva's eye. It was as if a crucible was crushing the unstable fear into something much more simple.
Mirvak suddenly came back to his senses, his canines dug deep into the Togruta's neck. The smuggler's eyes were lifeless, as Mirvak released his jaw from the criminal and stood away. His torso was marked with deep gnashes, cuts, and his neck and face by terrible bite marks. The whole world was silent as Mirvak studied his blood covered claws. As the rest of his senses came back to him, he heard that piercing chuckle. "Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Ma yacha no Mirvak neecha! Ha-ha-ha!"
Lost to the Beast
Tivva held up his part of the deal to Mirvak, and he did indeed intend to show him mercy for the rest of his life by leaving his fate up to chance almost every single day. Mirvak languished in the pits for years, killing again and again for survival. His hatred for Tivva grew more with each day. He lost himself to this rage that had saved his life so many times. But Mirvak's rage had opened up channels within him that were left untapped during his child hood. It was observed that in his fits of rage, if he had endured enough pain, he would roar so loudly that somehow the electronics in the pit would fail and the lights would flicker and the doors would open and shut randomly.
Tivva grew tired of Mirvak, and within 5 years of holding him in this state, he decided to sell him. He didn't want to hold onto this monster he had created, but being a Hutt he didn't want to "waste" a valuable source of income. So he sold him to a pit fighter boss, and washed his hands clean of the whole ordeal. This began Mirvak's changing of hands from pit boss to pit boss, as he proved to be more dangerous than he was worth. And he would keep being bought, the slavers not seeing his unquenchable rage until it was too late to undo the purchase.
Mirvak's time in the pits for now, however, has ended. There has been a massive crack down on pit fighting stations, planetside and in deep space alike. And to cut his losses, his most recent pit boss has sold him to another slaver. So he sits in the hold of some criminal scum's cargo ship turned slave brig. Waiting for freedom, true freedom.
Tivva grew tired of Mirvak, and within 5 years of holding him in this state, he decided to sell him. He didn't want to hold onto this monster he had created, but being a Hutt he didn't want to "waste" a valuable source of income. So he sold him to a pit fighter boss, and washed his hands clean of the whole ordeal. This began Mirvak's changing of hands from pit boss to pit boss, as he proved to be more dangerous than he was worth. And he would keep being bought, the slavers not seeing his unquenchable rage until it was too late to undo the purchase.
Mirvak's time in the pits for now, however, has ended. There has been a massive crack down on pit fighting stations, planetside and in deep space alike. And to cut his losses, his most recent pit boss has sold him to another slaver. So he sits in the hold of some criminal scum's cargo ship turned slave brig. Waiting for freedom, true freedom.
Chapter 1, Service under Darth Metus
The wolf's chains were broken at last by Darth Metus while he was passing through an orbital trade station over Ryloth. Sensing the beast's untapped Sith potential during a pain induced rage, the Darth freed him from captivity to watch him slaughter his former master. Taking Mirvak under his wing, he assigned him to his elite group of star disciples, called the Dark Acolytes. The wolf worked for the Darth for some time, but quickly grew envious of the special attention he paid to his star pupil Srina Talon. Receiving a level a training he felt was inadequate, the wolf began to despise Metus with every growing day. Not only was he his master, he was neglecting the true Sith in the midst of his students.
Until one day, the wolf was accompanying Darth Metus and Confederate forces in a raid on a cursed battleground, where the dead Sith and Jedi battled for eternity. Seeing the Darth betrayed by a witch, the impatient wolf saw his opportunity to strike. But he truly underestimated the Darth, who strung him up with a dark soul-sucking energy, and banished him to the Blood Wastes. This was a fate worse than death, an eternal prison that the beast could never escape from. Time was not as it seemed here, the Force worked against the beast, and all hope of escape was lost. The beast's mind eroded slowly over time, as he occupied his time with fruitlessly searching for an exit, and planning his revenge.
After being trapped for months in this hellish landscape, he escaped. Not without paying for it however, as he engaged a dark spirit guarding the exit to the realm in a brutal duel. This left him with a crippled left hand, boil burns all the way up the right side of his arm and skull, his right eye destroyed, and a not so unscathed sanity. He escaped to the rift in Alderaan, enacting his plans of revenge against Darth Metus.
Until one day, the wolf was accompanying Darth Metus and Confederate forces in a raid on a cursed battleground, where the dead Sith and Jedi battled for eternity. Seeing the Darth betrayed by a witch, the impatient wolf saw his opportunity to strike. But he truly underestimated the Darth, who strung him up with a dark soul-sucking energy, and banished him to the Blood Wastes. This was a fate worse than death, an eternal prison that the beast could never escape from. Time was not as it seemed here, the Force worked against the beast, and all hope of escape was lost. The beast's mind eroded slowly over time, as he occupied his time with fruitlessly searching for an exit, and planning his revenge.
After being trapped for months in this hellish landscape, he escaped. Not without paying for it however, as he engaged a dark spirit guarding the exit to the realm in a brutal duel. This left him with a crippled left hand, boil burns all the way up the right side of his arm and skull, his right eye destroyed, and a not so unscathed sanity. He escaped to the rift in Alderaan, enacting his plans of revenge against Darth Metus.
EQUIPMENT
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Cybernetic Hand - A strong cybernetic hand with claws, able to deflect glancing lightsaber blows.
Cybernetic Eye - A simple cybernetic replacement eye that allows for low-light vision.
Skullsplitter - A Sith greatsaber.