Novin
New Member
O B J E C T I V E
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- Name: Novin
- Residence: Nomadic
- Affiliation: None (as of yet)
- Titles: Warrior slave
- Species: Human
- Homeworld: Mandallia (Mandalore system)
- Age: 16
- Sex: Male
- Height: 1m74
- Weight: Slender
- Eye Color: Grey
- Hair Color: Ash black
- Skin Tone: Naturally pale, tanned due to long hours spent working under the sun
- Force Sensitive: Negative
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+ Strength: Hawkeyed
- Strength: Agile, great air fighter.
- Strength: Well versed in horticulture, poisons & whatnot.
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- Bullheaded
- Wrathful & Hateful
- Mistrustful
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- Born on Mandallia, on one his mother's lengthily expeditions to study the particular flora of this planet, Novin was the son of a highly ranked official in the UMC (United Mandalore Clans); a man known to be ruthless and cruel yet brutally effective on the battlefield, while his mother was a renowned horticulturist on their homeworld of Mandalore, whose work was highly respected among warriors and scientists alike, as the poisons and toxins she concocted through her long hours of studies in the field led to many technological advancements. Mandallia, a planet formely inhabited by giants, brought forcedly under the mandalorian banners during the time of the Great Conquests, had been settled by generations of mandalorians, who overtime, gradually interbed with the native giants. Novin had received a strict and martial education, primarily in arts of combat, and in accordance with the ways of his people, he also received knowledge from matters pertaining to horticulture and botany, as he often accompanied his mother on her expeditions. Much like others of hailing from his young generation, Novin's future was assured by the promise of service and loyalty to the UMC... where he would dedicate his life as a soldier, a fighter, a scientist, or an archaeologist no doubt, or something along these lines. The boy could only dream to emulate the career of his father, or obtain the same recognition as his mother.
Regardless, It was a peaceful time. Mandalore was stronger than it had ever been, with all the clans united, they operated as a strong collective front with the means and firepower to bend the galaxy to its knees. Well at least, that was before the great betrayal... Sith, they had once called them allies, welcoming their fold into the hinterland of their domains, sharing battlefield honours and feasts alike with these fiend... without ever knowing that some day, these monsters would stab them right in the back ! It was a mortifying day... one that Novin does not particularly recall as much as he would have liked. He was peacefully abed in his family's homestead; a formidable household in Sundari... though, he does remember the endless screams, the agony caused by the ruthless slaughters, pulling him from his sleep. Only thirteen at the time, he had witnessed extents of atrocities that adults would never hope to witness, ever... and such dark moments tainted him for life. Like many of his people, Novin and his family, his clansmen were forced to leave the safety of Mandalore, the once bright and prosperous planet they called home for so long and join the wilderness of Mandallia, where he was initially brought into the world.
As they settled there, the family knew well that they were forsaken to a life on the run, as agents of the sith would perpetually hunt them with purpose to exterminate every single of their kind they could get their vile hands on. It was bittersweet. Aye, they survived, but at what cost ? Their friends were dead, his father, once a proud and respected warrior was forced to live confined to a few acres of crops and a farm... and adopt a shameful lifestyle, unfitting for a man of his mettle... Whereas the mother adapted to their new life quite easily. As a well versed botanist, she was able to continue her work, though with much lesser resources at her disposal.
It was only the beginning of their woes, as word of the fall of Mandalore quickly spread in the Outer Rim, reaching the dens of pirates and poachers, men of the crime underworld who hoped to plunger on the remaining, weak foundations of what was once a powerful empire. Planets like Mandallia, who were part of the greater Mandalore system relied of their protection and security to prosper and flourish... but with the UMC gone, these planets became all too easy target. On a fateful day, a band of three dozen pirates came in search of said riches and goods... goods in the form of young mandalorian children that is... no doubt to further their own, dark agendas. Vile men, trappers who had no issues locating the encampment Novin and his family had called their home.
It was a bloody assault, while his parents managed at first to hold their own against the might of these filthy men, they were overwhelmed by their sheer numbers, who capitalized on their superior numeric advantage to launch an all out assault. Following their deaths, Novin had no choice but to surrender and accept captivity. All the children they could find, they took, ripping apart families without any guilt feeling, the wretched vultures ! Some of the children taken were barely even 10 years old... though it came at no surprise: Mandalorians were widely renowned throughout the galaxy for being deadly warriors and unflinching fighters, with them amongst the very few individuals with the means and technology to go toes-to-toes with a force sensitive fighter... and thus, they represented precious assets on the black market. Some of these filthy pirates even hoped brainwash their young, undeveloped mind into slave warriors of some sort. Novin and Mort were amongst the children taken that day.
In total, it is estimated that the poachers and slavers managed to secure the capture of fifteen children from Novin's enclave, though roughly fifty in total, from other poorly secured settlements among the Mandalore system. The first trial that these children would have to overcome was a wicked, gruesome one. As they were, all fifty of them, placed in an arena, touted to kill the other or to be killed themselves. They had to do so until only 10 survivors remained from this bloody free-for-all. Needless to say, Novin was severely marked by all these killings, as some even met their own demise by his own hand. It scarred him, and deeply blackened his heart... and he rarely ever spoke again. For two years... he lived on as a warrior slave, carrying assassination missions, acting as an enforcer, vowed to accomplish whatever bidding his masters would task him with.... silently planning his escape in the process.
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- Mort Struwr
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- EE-3 carbine rifle
- Quicksilver made spear
- Poorly made vambraces (equipped with grappling hooks)
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- TBA
*Full credit to Kiff for the template, you're doing God's work!
- TBA