blessed
GENERAL
NAME: ORAN SHULE
SPECIES: VAHLA
ALIAS: /
AGE: ADULT
GENDER: MALE
HEIGHT: TALL
WEIGHT: THIN
EYES: GRAY
FORCE SENSITIVE: YES
RANK: KNIGHT
EMPLOYER: HIMSELF
ALLEGIANCE: BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW
SOUNDTRACK: [x]
TRAITS
[ EDUCATED ] - His focus has always been with the occult and the Darkside. Whilst his knowledge in other fields are lacking, Oran knows a lot about the more esoteric arts.
[ FRAIL ] - Can't endure as much as some.
[ VAHLA ] - Quite flexible and attuned to the Darkside.
[ EXPERIENCE ] - His time with studying the occult has left his mind on edge and unstable.
[ ARROGANT ] - Speaks for itself.
HISTORY
Knowledge was power.
If the Blackguard knew of anything it was knowledge and they went through extremes to safe-guard it. The years prior to the Gulag had taught them that their order was watched, hunted for their knowledge, jealously preying on their works. Secretive locations were established all across the Galaxy, little cells with no more than a dozen, but usually less.
They didn't involve themselves in one fight or another.
That was not their way.
Theirs was the way of reaching the pinnacle of understanding and through it mastery of the Force... through that? Mastery of their own destiny. Shule was part of one of those cells, a hidden enclave on Kuras III. His studies and exemplary control has given him the privilege to leave the enclave behind. To study more, to experience, to learn.
To take what knowledge he can and bring it back to Kuras III.
The dusty enclave had started to wear on him already, so Oran took this opportunity with no hesitation.
Over the years he traveled the Galaxy. What he saw disturbed him more and more. An eternal struggle that ravaged the Galaxy over and over again, saddling the common sentient with war and desolation. It was his time with the eldritch and the Darkside that warped his mind. Instead of seeing solutions... he only saw chaos. He became determined to put a stop to it all.
This was around the time that he came across the Brotherhood of the Maw.
Their purpose would have galled him in the past. But enough years had passed that he saw the logic now. The Galaxy had to burn first, before it could rise again and be beautiful once more.