Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Qrylo Qykk

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BLASTER-RESISTANT
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NAME: Qrylo Qykk / 'Cry-low Qu-ick’
SPECIES: Weequay
AGE: 44 standard years
SEX: Male
HEIGHT: 1.91m / 6ft 3½in
WEIGHT: 102kg / 224lb
EYES: Black
SKIN: Brown
HAIR: Black / Braided
FORCE SENSITIVE: No

APPEARANCE:

A broad and muscular figure with deep-set black eyes, Qrylo looks every part the veteran mercenary. His hardened brown skin, flat nose, and spiked jowl are often nigh-indistinguishable from the surface of his own toughened leatheris armour, and he is rarely seen without a host of battered holsters, blasters, and grenades strapped to each limb.

Already a walking arsenal, Qrylo bears the spoils of his victories with pride, sporting a Wookiee bandolier and sawn-off Trandoshan scattergun, trophies of his tour of Kashyyyk, and his prized Chieftain’s Gaderffi, a memento of his brief, if eventful, service with the Hutt clans of Tatooine. This clattering selection of deadly tools rarely leave his side, and indeed he feels naked without them.

Qrylo has been an exile of Sriluur for many years, but he still practises the tradition of ‘seclusion braids’, wherein Weequay twist their hair with one knot for each year spent away from home, cutting them only when they return. Now, decades on, Qrylo’s own twisted mass of braids extends to his lower back, a symbol of his deepest shame, and yet his utmost pride.
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HOMEWORLD: Sriluur / Exiled
FACTION:
RANK:
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POSITIVE:

WEEQUAY: Qrylo’s tough, leathery skin acts like its own blaster-resistant body armour, allowing him to withstand more damage than most organisms. He can also communicate non-verbally with other Weequay via pheromones, hence his short manner of speech, and highly developed sense of smell, invaluable for tracking targets. A remnant of his highly communal upbringing on Sriluur, he rarely, if at all, will refer to himself by any other name than ‘Weequay’.

GRIZZLED: Whilst it made him an outsider on Sriluur from an early age, in the many years since, Qrylo’s ability to take initiative and work alone has proved a valuable asset in the lonely and focus-driven world of bounty hunting. In his time, he has accumulated a well-tested arsenal, vast hand-to-hand, ranged, and explosive combat experience, and at least one or two tricks, here and there.

NEUTRAL:

ZEALOUS: In his youth Qrylo forsook his gods, and paid a terrible price. Now he honors Quay with more zeal than ever, ardently practising the tradition of sacrifice, most of all during the Month of Plenty. For Qrylo, material wealth is secondary, and he aims to maintain a religious dignity of his own. As Weequay are forbidden to build Thal, their offering stones, off-world, in lieu they must partake in animal sacrifice- to Qrylo, each target is but another mark of his atonement to the gods.

NEGATIVE:

UNEDUCATED: Weequay are not renowned for academia, and Qrylo is no exception; whilst he is not especially unintelligent, he is not well-learned, with the finer points of most technology and history beyond his grasp. In its place he is reliant on a more intuitive thought process, and the practical wisdom gathered over a storied mercenary career, regardless of his ability to explain it.

HOSTILE: Qrylo is well aware of the reputation off-world members of his species hold across the galaxy, and how fully he meets the expectations of his stereotype. On many worlds, citizens view him with fear and suspicion on sight, even before his hostile demeanour and personal reputation can confirm their fears. Whilst hidden somewhere within he might hold a more sensitive side, a lifetime of brutal work and enforced exile has done little otherwise to soften his heart. Violence has usually proven to be his best solution.
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ARMS:
- A280-CFE blaster / Right hip holster
​- Sd-77 sonic pistol / Left hip holster
​- LJ-50 Trandoshan concussion rifle with ‘Thumper’ underbarrel grenade launcher / Rifle sling
​- ACP Scatter Gun / Small of back holster
​- Poisoned Chieftain's Gaderffi / Back sling
​- Vibroknife / Boot

GRENADES:
​- Cryoban grenades / Bandolier
​- Ion grenades / Bandolier
​- Concussion grenades Bandolier
​- Plasma grenades / Bandolier
​- Dioxis grenades / Bandolier

APPAREL:
​- Wookiee belt & bandolier / Belt & Bandolier
​- Leatheris body armor / Armor
- Mandalorian crushgaunts / Gauntlets
- 'Eye of Quay' Void Stone Talisman / Talisman
- Personal energy shield / Belt

TOOLS:
​- Medpacs / Belt
​- Macrobinoculars / Belt
​- Hand-loaded durasteel slugs / Belt
​- Incendiary slugs / Belt
​- A280-CFE scope & barrel / Belt

STARSHIP:
​- ‘Walk of Penance’ / XS-800 Light Freighter
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QRYLO QYKK’S HOLORECORDING:

“My youth. There were many indiscretions.

Sriluur is a place of the masses. An individual, here, there, it is nothing. Headstrong violence, the hatred that rules the young. They are common. On Sriluur, to kill a brother, it is one thing. Excusable. Time after time, if you make your offerings. Drops in the ocean, to Quay. What is one brother to the moon? Treacheries run deeper. Deeper than murder, yes. Blasphemy.

I struck down a rival. Great foe, tormentor of youth. Bare hands, mighty weapons. Left him broken. Bones bleached in sun. Bloodlust still ruled all the same. Lots of bodies in the desert. No names for Weequay, no one to charge. But I cried out in passion. Accursed words. Affronted Quay, Am-Shak. Farmer’s girl heard me. Became an enemy of the moon, the storm. Hollow in the eyes of my kin. Barren soul, like a desert. A shadow man, worth less than dirt.

Elders and lawmakers took me. Dragged by the arms, kicking dust. Came to Thal, offering stone. Demanded my repentance. I spat in their faces. Howled sacrileges tenfold. Debased my gods. A mountain of shame. Even now I wear my disgrace. Braids. But then, a wild animal. Crawling demon, cast to the mud. Righteous justice. Bound, hand and foot. Walking the desert, alone. Isolation tears a sense from a Weequay. No pheromones, no speech. Nameless exile of the waste. Dark spirits, nymphs. A cloud of hate. Walked days and nights.

Found a new place, where I was a stranger. No good. Free men do not walk naked from the sands, tied at hand and foot. Raving, spitting. No place for me on Sriluur. More indignities followed. Crawled in filth, hid by night. Stole, threatened. Survival over reverence. Mountain is a heavy thing to bear. Freighters, heading skyward. Fate, like a corridor. Yet no passage. Wore ill-fitting clothes of strangers, crept aboard. Even in liberty, a nameless thief. I was a desert beetle.

Years, passing. Now, I am righteous. Named. Killer in the Outer Rim. Wild Space. Hunts on Kashyyyk. Enforcer on Tatooine. Sith contracts, Republic contracts. Private armies. Scorch wounds, aching bones. Redemption in combat. Low work, with limited pay. But credits were secondary. Glory, unthinkable. Absolution for my shame.

Away from Sriluur, Thal are forbidden off-world. No gifts of food, so we slaughter animals for Quay. Cattle and beasts are common. Bantha, dewback. But I made sacrifices of my own. Greater offerings, for greater penance. Humans. Duros. Rodians. Wookiee. Each mark, a weight from my curse. More in the Month of Plenty. Rivers of blood. They carry me closer to the arms of Am-Shak.

Atonement through sacrifice. One day, Quay will forgive.”

END OF RECORDING
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ROLE-PLAYS:
​1. Satellite City Blues [With Tan'yill]

BOUNTIES:
​-

KILLS:
​-
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