Character Yorunarr Ahan-Yan'Sharlim

[Yorunarr Ahan-Yan'Sharlim]

THEME

"Shamanism is a path of knowledge, not of faith, and that knowledge cannot come from me or anyone else in this reality. To acquire that knowledge, including the knowledge of the reality of the spirits, it is necessary to step through the shaman's doorway and acquire empirical evidence." - Michael Harner, Author.

Yorunarr Ahan-Yan'Sharlim

"The Godseer"
Priest-King of The Tarkinist Novanian Diaspora

Lord-Major of the 2nd Rifles Battalion,"Firedance Battalion" [The Highland Brotherhood]

NPC APPEARANCES
INVASION "Kill Them All and Let God Sort Them Out" - AC Invasion of TSE-Held Ziost, Mirial & Ruuria
JUNCTION "Blood/Snow - The Battle For Carlac" - NIO Junction of Mobus, Oorn Tchis, & Carlac in Revolt
INVASION "Death's Sting" - SJC Invasion of BOTM-Held Lao-Mon
DOMINION "Dire Consequences" - BOTM Dominion of Copero/Sarvchi
FACTION "Home, or Whatever's Left of It" - FREE-STATE Reconquest of Galidraan III
INVASION "Die By the Sword" - NIO Invasion of BOTM-Held Csaus
FACTION "Operation: Vermillion" - NIO Internal Standoff on Krieg

TRAITS
Stalwart Loyalty
Immense Bravery
Survivor's Craftiness
Skilled Swordsman
Prone to Wanderlust
Intoxication Concerns
Easy Target Whilst Entranced
Untreated PTSD Concerns

ATTRIBUTES
Height: 185cm (6.06ft)
Weight: 180 lbs (81.6kg)
Eyes: Blueish-White Irises, White Pupils
Hair: White w. Shades of Silvery-Blue
Age: 31
Midichlorian Count: Low

LOADOUT
Equipment
Defiant-pattern APCU All-Purpose Combat Uniform
Long-Distance Binoculars
Med-Pack (+ Bacta Patches)
Gas Mask
Shaman's Mask
X2 Flashbangs
X2 Smoke Grenades
Melarria's Root
Amanita Marunesha

Weaponry
CSR-50i Slugthrower Sniper Rifle
AP-25i 'SIMP' Particle Beam Blaster
Vibrosword Cavalry-Sabre
Durasteel Fairbairn Vibroknife
Hatchet

BIOGRAPHY
BIRTH - EARLY ADULTHOOD

(843-864 ABY)

Novanian Riverlands, Outer-Novania,
Nordland, Archais (Rain Season of 843 ABY)

It was the morning after the birth of his only son, the sun was shining warmly for the first time in days, reflecting it's glorious light off the raindrops that showered the world around his shack - but Yan'Sharlim Ahan-Karidim could find no joy in it.

Not after the night he had endured, not in that moment, weeping almost as intensely as the skies above as dawn broke over the lands that Yan'Sharlim had known since childhood, trapped in what could only be described as the most gut-wrenching anguish the Blood Shaman had ever known by then. A tall order considering all the Novanians had endured before that night, from the end of the Arkanian colonization, through the Republican Intervention, to the Archaisian rise to planetary dominance itself, none of it would ever bode well for their chances of recovering in the years after. However, in the latter days of his darling Ayarla's pregnancy, the Blood Shaman would be fortunate enough that the proud sovereign state of Novania was still holding firm in their fight for the Riverlands at the time, holding just long enough to see his son grow and understand the destruction of the only world he ever knew.

Alone with his thoughts as his wife lay dead within the birthing-house behind him, and no happy ride off into the sunset in sight for himself or his son, Yan'Sharlim could do nothing but weep uncontrollably as the sun rose and punched it's rays through the rainclouds in the distance. The Archaisian Civil War was barely five years passed, and all was unravelling harshly for the Novanian Guerillas already, adding insult to injury as all the lands and locations he wanted his newborn son to see, and every wondrous town, village and city along with it, all would be denied them before the child could even open his eyes properly.

Little did the white-eyed Shaman know at the time, but the worst fate his people would ever know by then would arrive in the form of One-Sith Imperial aggression, staking their claim to the human half of Perlemia and pushing deep into the heart of the Riverlands before Yorunarr's second birthday, an offensive so brutal and torturous that it forced the Riverlands branch of the NLA to splinter off into two separate warlord factions that would remain unreconciled for years after the internal troubles began. The next twelve years would scar and maim the Blood Shaman's,"Seers of the Mask", but the stout-hearted forest raiders would hold out long enough to see abolitionist movements keep the humans out of the fight after the summer of 858 ABY. But this is where everything began to get worse for the Seers, for all the other Novanians were of technologically-driven ideals, and all the others reviled Yan'Sharlim's clique of Shamanic Guerillas for what they were, for what the NLA always said they'd become in the end.

"I'm sorry for all of it, son. You deserved better." - Yan'Sharlim Ahan-Karidim, moments before execution (Winter of 858 ABY)​

And in the last days of the Archaisian Equinox of 858 ABY, the worst-case scenario came to pass; the Blood-Shaman and his personal guard were deftly surrounded, defeated and summarily executed all on the same night, with Yorunarr lined up next to his father in expectation of a very similar fate as the sun set over the western horizon. However, in the moments after Yan'Sharlim's death, something strange happened, something that the boy never thought was even possible for a people who wielded no such force-wielding power, unfolding into what would later become an aftermath that Sith and Jedi alike would find particularly difficult to explain away.

As the lad looked on, shrieking with manic grief as the NLA's axeman cleanly severed Yan'Sharlim's head from his shoulders, Yorunarr would be much too traumatised to hear or notice his dad whispering deathly incantations under-breath in his final moments, not until that same head looked back to the boy and winked as everyone around them turned on each other. Completely ignoring the finalizing execution of the Novanian Civil War, the executioner's guard-detail would opt to slaughter each other instead of murdering the boy, a strange and horrifying lifeline in particular that Yorunarr would repress for years after that night; though not before escaping to a hillside nearby and screaming his anguish to the stars above, tearfully raging himself to sleep that night, with nothing but grief and coniferous overgrowth as his shelter until the morning.

Walking through his old home province when he woke up, with rain beating down on the region in every direction and washing all the blood away, Yan'Sharlim's only son would find that it was more than just the executioner's mob who suffered the Blood-Shaman's last ritual, with almost an entire district littered with the maimed, dismembered and disembowelled corpses of the nearest opposing Guerillas. The darkest of incantations yet, saving the darkest, most-powerful incantations for last, knowing this magic only worked for those with the deepest of vengeful wrath in their hearts; the Blood-Shaman knew this would happen, and had been waiting for the right moment since long before that night, dying as had been by design since the moment his father Karidim heard him recite it perfectly for the first time. And Yorunarr would be forced to walk amongst the aftermath of his father's final act as the vultures, dogs and pack-animals of every local variety gleefully feasted on the Blood-Shaman's last offering, eating the like the kings and queens of the wilderness they always were.

The only living Novanian the lad found on the way, though fortunately soon after, was in an encounter with a frightened, though friendly outcast. A friendship would be struck up quickly with the other lad, known as Ajaya . Ostracised as a freak for the hybridisation that had been inflicted on him, there would be no chance Yorunarr's friend would survive on his own, (much like himself in that regard) but with the orphaned pureblood's help, they both knew survival was possible, and possible for them both if they learned how to help each other along the way. Six years of hiding, running and eventually searching for lasting safety awaited, but with a brotherly bond as strong as one between those between outcasts and orphans alike, there was no doubt the boys would prevail into adulthood - with hearts steeled stronger than any of the Novanians who remained when the New Imperial Order finally landed in 864 ABY.

EARLY MILITARY SERVICE

(864 - 867 ABY)

Galidraani Free-State Headquarters, Hirkenburg,
Perlemia, Archais (Summer of 865 ABY)

Ajaya, in the act of deciding that enough was enough, had finally given up on living life on the run, but the resurgent NLA had been swept aside by an allied contingent of Archaisian and Galidraani Imperials, and quite easily so. If there was ever a time to test the waters with the new powers in Perlemia, Yorunarr wouldn't be able to begrudge his hybridized friend of the fact there wouldn't be any better time than that to do so; and fortunately for the young Novanians, and the future they'd get to earn for themselves as a result, their new masters were kinder than the masters who ruled Archais before them.

Lord Erskine Barran, the aging Goidel, had taken the risk of recruiting the hybrid into a faction that had previously accepted Archaisian humans into their ranks, though once again, life would bestow yet another kindness on the lad when the aforementioned Archaisian soldiers quickly established friendly rapports and group-acceptances alike. Soon after, these same former-enemies convinced Ajaya to reach out and find Yorunarr, eventually proving their sincerity on the matter when they took the proactive efforts in aiding the young Shaman's acclimation to life in the Free-State military; an act that kickstarted the hybrid's path to peaceful civilian life as the Shaman began his path towards greatness, and wild and tumultuous though it was fated to be, Yan'Sharlim's only son gladly accepted his fate - spurred on by the fact that his willingness to fight alone was enough to convince Lord Erskine that honourably-discharging Ajaya was the right choice to make.

Blue-Heart Brigade, pushing northward to engage Sith Holdouts in the Third Battle of Ziost (865 ABY)​

Yorunarr would understand the sheer weight and magnitude of the journey he was embarking on before long, as his first deployment would be during the third and final battle for Ziost, especially in the moments when the fight was at it's most desperate; from smaller attendant and orderly duties, to being armed by an already-wounded Lord Erskine to act as his personal bodyguard instead, the sheer jump in intensity of his role with the Galdraani Free-State was there for all on either side of the struggle to see. Not that it mattered, as General Barran was quite happy wandering off to parley with his rivals whilst the young Shaman worked to keep the medical compound safe from harm, circumstances that eventually saw him accept stims that were against his moral and religious restrictions to accept; and in the process, awakening a connection between both himself and the Ancients, the first encounter of many with the pantheon of pre-colonisation Archais.

With no other option but to allow Dr. Qar's staffers to inject a particularly potent stim, Yorunarr would incur the disappointment and irritation of his gods in the attempt to keep the good doctor himself safe, but despite their chiding and disapprovals, the Ancients would watch over the spirited Novanian as he embroiled himself in a life-or-death struggle with none other than Darth Malus. An encounter that would leave the Shaman hospitalised for months alongside his Lord-Commander at the time, then recovering in a low-risk/rehab ward for a fair few more beyond that, though he was still in a medical-induced coma by the time the Woad-born general and the Krieg-Mandalorian surgeon were both cleared to leave of their own accord. Dealing with a punctured lung, brain-swelling, countless breaks, fractures and internal-bleeding concerns, the bacta-tank coma would be Yorunarr's only company until weeks after the NIO declared victory in the civil war against the Sith.

To truly get back on the road to full-recovery, Yorunarr would first need to wake and recover from his bacta-induced coma and the residual injuries that were beyond his financial means to continue within the tank itself, pulled out only to be thrown onto more-affordable treatments like muscle-rehabilitation, physiotherapy and a long run of minor and reconstructive surgeries alike hindering his progress throughout. By the time the young Shaman had been rather-unceremoniously discharged from hospital on Galidraan I, Tavlar had already declared a victorious end to the NIO's war on the Sith Empire, and was said to be convening the Grand Imperial Assembly by the time the young Novanian could speak with Lord Erskine about his future, but he would need to meet the old Woad on Bastion. Yet little did the Shaman know it at the time, but Yorunarr would end up meeting his Lord-Commander within the walls of yet another hospital soon after his arrival at the new Ravelin spaceport, arriving just days after Carlac's explosive declaration of open rebellion against their former comrades.

THE ASCENSION

(867 - 874 ABY)

​

Hightree Ruins, Goshen Rainforest,
Goshen, Lao-Mon (Summer of 867 ABY)

The Shaman wasn't supposed to be successful on Lao-Mon, not after the events that led up to it, as the responsibilities lapped on him would've otherwise been horribly disastrous endeavours in the hands of others in his shoes; another of his immensely fortunate turns of luck, not only for the danger he was in, but most of all for what Yorunarr had been through to get as far as the Goshen Rainforest in the first place.

Whilst lying incapacitated in his hospital bed from abundant shrapnel wounds, Barran would test the limits of his bodyguard's solemn vow of loyalty, stating that he saw his son wielding a pale-blue lightsabre, and that his son needed more help than Lord Erskine himself ever would. Whatever fateful turn of events were set to transpire as a result, were in no way expected at the time, as the Imperial deployment to Carlac would need to be experienced with both feet in the snow, on a planet almost-completely crawling with the dark-hearted Miraluka's frozen undead masses. However, here was where the power of the Root would teach the Shaman much and more of the gods he often prayed and sacrificed wild animals to, here was where the Novanian would take the old Woad's heir on an astral journey to meet the Ancients of Novania. Not only that, but someone else awaited the Shaman and his new mentor, someone who Yorunarr missed very dearly, someone he hadn't seen since the equinox of 858 ABY.

The forests of the Northern Srares Mountains, completely devoid of corporeal life, Carlac (Winter of 867 ABY)​

As the Highland Brotherhood struggled in their first,"Conventional", deployment, Yorunarr Ahan-Yansharlim's mind brought that of Michael Barran's own across multiple astral pathways to reach the fabled home of the Ancients, taking the Druid to the very home of the Shaman's beloved pantheon; beyond the the Six-Eyed Gate of Marunesh, and into the wondrous expanse beyond, wading their souls through the mythic, eye-watering beauty of Melarran's Firmament. His father's mask had been seen through his stim-fuelled delirium on Ziost, heard clearly though Yorunarr found Yan'Sharlim's presence the most-difficult to believe, only until the masked spirit of the Blood-Shaman himself appeared with a power much like that of the masked gods they both revered, henceforth completing the self-actualisation of the man who would one day become the Godseer.

Having dragged the consciousness of a rather-powerful powerful presence through with them, the great Mother Melarria would curse one of the Voices, ordering her sainted Blood-Shaman to annihilate it promptly after, as the dark magic of Darth Caelitus could only protect such coordinating powers over the undead to certain extents. Something the gods and heavenly souls of Melarran's firmament were keen to capitalise on quickly, before such a Voice could infect the hidden astral wonders around it, leading Melarran's eternal wife to gift power to both the Shaman and the Druid to make their presences felt for as long as Carlac remained a threat, a gift that not even Yan'Sharlim Ahan-Karidim had been granted in his lifetime. A gift that may have turned the tide in the Blood Shaman's favour, a gift that may have kept his kinsmen from ever seeing the gallows, but gifted instead to those who suffered his choices in life, a final penance Yan'Sharlim would need to pay by watching his son struggle for the rest of his life.

The Blood-Shaman's mask, as seen on Melarran's Firmament.​

Gazing on all the highs and lows from the aggravating comfort of Melarran's Firmament for decades to come.

Such a power would come in handy when the Druid and his trusty Shaman were deployed to Lao-Mon just weeks after returning to Bastion to resupply, still filling the gap left by Lord Erskine's absence but also making sure that Galidraan spearheaded the Silver Jedi Concord's ill-fated endeavour all the same, arriving seven days before the others and holding off Khaostra Devoid's forces in the heart of the Goshen Rainforest, all in the hopes it would keep the heaviest bulk of the Mawite forces tied down for the sake of the other Bastion-Accords contingents attack on Goshen's well-fortified population instead. And yet, it wasn't until the eighth and final day in the jungle when everything began to move into lasting, definitive motion, as the late arrival of the other Bastion-Accords factions brought a whole slew of unexpected variables with them, bringing out a rather irritated Khaostra for a parley with Lord Michael in the process.

The resulting mayhem that followed could only be described as apocalyptic, especially when the urban assault on Goshen began, as this would be taken as a cue for the budding Godseer to work his magic on the Goshen Rainforest, and more-specifically, on the Drengir monsters that Devoid had brought with her for the purpose of wreaking havoc on the Imperial static-line.

Such events would lead to yet another visit to Melarran's Firmament, and there, during the events of his second visitation, Yan'Sharlim would gift his son a power he attained in the latter years of his life, only able to truly exert it by sacrificing himself in order for it to take hold so strongly. For Yorunarr, it would be different, not only for the fact the Blood-Shaman could feel that his son's corporeal mind was stronger than his own was, but also for the fact he could tell that his son would wield this dark power with great responsibility as he himself had before the end. However, the Godseer wouldn't need to sacrifice a single drop of his own blood to do so, enough of the Blood-Shaman's life-force had been expended to make the curse every part as effective for a second outing as it was for the first, but instead of inflicting it on the Syndicalist Novanians of yesteryear- the Drengir, the Scav Kings and Warhounds would feel the wrath of what Yorunarr would later refer to as,"The Ritual of the Blood-Mask".

The Novanian's actions that day, despite the strategic loss the Accords' contingents suffered at the hands of Mawsworn warriors holding Goshen's walls at the time, served to keep the dreaded siege-breaking manoeuvres from materialising, served to keep all the attending Free-State soldiers in the fight, and most-importantly, serving to keep an ill-fated duel from transpiring at the end of the Woad's parley. Yorunarr would be hailed as a hero for his bravery by all after that day, by Galidraanis, Goidels, Carracks and even by the Archaisians who once viewed his kind with suspicion, but all that remained was one last meaningful endeavour; the last obstacle standing in their way, the only thing barring Yorunarr's way home, was to be Lord Erskine's final request before allowing him to swear proper oaths of fealty and service to his new mentor.

The new mentor of whom the Novanian was already becoming a stalwart friend, as the new mentor was none other than Lord Michael Barran himself, holding Galidraan III's capital city whilst the old man completed the Reconquest of the Heartlands further inland; Yorunarr would steadily get to know the man who would consequently grant him leave soon after, learning of the Wanderer's Force-wielding power and his love of Druidic philosophy for a quiet, though often drunken, few weeks in the city's many pubs and ale-gardens. Embracing the culture, beverages and the women of the Heartlands until it was time to make his departure for Archais, the Godseer would be given much and more to think about on his already-introspective return home, for the Stormchaser's heir was very much different to most, and even more so than Lord Erskine himself.

The Wayfarer, the setting for the Shaman's many philosophical, theosophical and tactical discussions with the Druid.​

Leaving the Galidraan System a humble, common man, Yorunarr had know way to know just yet, at least not until his dreams began to get a little strange during his weeks-long journey to Archais, but the dreams in transit, including recent memories of finally meeting the red mask of Melarran, would regardless (and steadily) begin to form into something prophetic with time. The only catalyst the Godseer needed, and he knew as much long before he reached his destination, was to let his bare feet sink into the soil and the river-water of the intended destination itself, and all would finally make sense as to what his fate, along with all the Arkanians he would convert and awaken along the way, had in store for him. Yorunarr would return to his mentor a changed man almost a year later, and with a small retinue of his own, and no longer the humble, common man like before - but as the rightful, indomitable Priest-King of Novania.

He came bearing gifts, greetings and tales of his recent return to Archais, but the friendship was still as strong and sincere as it had been when the Godseer left for home in 869 ABY; and despite the pomp and ceremony they were both desperately trying to dispense with, the drunken celebrations would ensue, and ensue in abundance until the news of the Maw's invasion of Nirauan eventually filtered through to the population-centres of Serenno. However, during the celebrations, Yorunarr had revealed something that intrigued Lord Michael greatly, starting with a reoccurring insignia seen in his dreams, told to be frantically inscribed (then painted) on the marble floor of the Priest-King's throne-room, consequently becoming the city-state's banner in the weeks after snapping out of his entranced, manic haze.

The Wanderer knew.

As soon as he saw it he understood what the Godseer had in mind for the people of Novania.
​

A Tarkinist Theocracy, the kind that could save a nation, and perhaps even the remnants of an entire species at that. The Priest-King of Novania, in all his prestigious glory, had finally found his deeply-repressed ambition, and the Druid-Grandmaster of the Highland Brotherhood couldn't help but wonder why his friend still revered him so much. Even with all his new rank, status, wealth and fame in it's abundance, the great Godseer was still acquitting himself well as an officer, still taking orders without complaint or disapproval, a matter to which the Lord-Captain is still trying to adjust.