J A N I Z A R
V U L G A R I O N
| Name | Vulgarion |
| Callsign | Maalraas |
| Voice | Jul 'Mdama |
| Theme | Student Visas |
| Class | Grunt |
| Homeworld | Mataou |
| Personality Traits | Broken Weary Anti-villain |
| Wargear | BK-43 Blaster Rifle Thermal detonator Sith-Imperial Army trooper armor |
| Profession | Sith-Imperial Army Trooper |
| Rank | Recruit/Conscript |
| Faction | The Sith Order |
| Species | Karkarodon |
| Languages | Galactic Basic Huttese ur-Kittât |
| Gender Identity | she/her |
| Force Sensitive | No. |
| Character Alignment | True Evil |
| Height | 7’2 |
| Weight | 260lbs |
| Color Code | Candy Apple Red | #FF0800 |
-
Vulgarion knew how to field strip a blaster rifle before she developed fluency in Galactic Basic. She knew the timing on a thermal detonator post-fuze before she could count. There was an intimacy between her and gore without the touch of love to contrast it too.
There was never a reality where Vulgarion was spared of this, the cruel nature of the shattered Sith Warlordism created thousands of children exactly like her. Those that had a blaster shoved in their hands and sent over the top of some Yavin-forsaken trench in some backwater world. Fighting for nations, corporate desires, or ideological dogma. For Vulgarion, it was the mark of a private military corporation that haunted her. Her tongue was branded with its emblem in her youth, a subsidiary of an even larger ghast named Grotesques. The name invokes the brutalist aesthetic that the corpos hid behind.
She saw action throughout the conflicts of the Third Imperial Civil War, the rise of the Sith Warlords, and the Ashlan Crusades – no Gods or masters besides the divine credit chip. Her value was marked by how many bodies she brought home with as little tibanna used. There was a promise that she could buy out the debt she owed to the company for the “renting” of her arms and equipment.
A monolithic number made that impossible.
This asset was lost to the Grotesque Private Military Corporation when the company choose the wrong target on the wrong planet. A garrison force of the Sith Empire tore the squadron that Vulgarion belonged too apart with armored support and artillery. When picking over the dead, the karkarodon was found. A breathing mask fixed over her face, curled around her blaster rifle like a blanket in the night.
From one master to the next, she was conscripted into the Sith-Imperial Army. Warblooded, she was an adult now, and this was all she knew.
Intervention actions and occupation was preferable to the alternative, though.
-
TRENCH WARRIOR 
ENSLAVED 
SITH ETERNALIST -
T E R R O R _ & _ S T A R V A T I O N
Overview of future stories.
Placeholder
-
NameDescriptionREDACTED REDACTED
Last edited: