Diary of 1000 Year Old Sangnir
OOC: A Thousand Years Old Sangnir
This thread serves as an in-character journal chronicling the ancient and fragmented life of
Nando
, a Mandalorian Sangnir cursed with centuries of life. It is intended to be written using a solo journaling RPG format based on Thousand Year Old Vampire by Tim Hutchings—adapted to the Star Wars galaxy and Nando's future character development.
Each post will represent a prompt from the RPG, revealing a moment from Nando’s long and often romanticized past: forgotten lovers, lost battles, faded names, and scars that refuse to heal. As centuries pass, his memories will be rewritten, erased, or embellished—reflecting the tragedy, comedy, and curse of the long-lived.
Behind the melodramatic monologues and blood-slick bravado lies a simple question:
Gameplay Notes:
This thread serves as an in-character journal chronicling the ancient and fragmented life of
Nando
, a Mandalorian Sangnir cursed with centuries of life. It is intended to be written using a solo journaling RPG format based on Thousand Year Old Vampire by Tim Hutchings—adapted to the Star Wars galaxy and Nando's future character development.Each post will represent a prompt from the RPG, revealing a moment from Nando’s long and often romanticized past: forgotten lovers, lost battles, faded names, and scars that refuse to heal. As centuries pass, his memories will be rewritten, erased, or embellished—reflecting the tragedy, comedy, and curse of the long-lived.
Behind the melodramatic monologues and blood-slick bravado lies a simple question:
Who does the Sangnir remember, and what does the man forget?
Gameplay Notes:
- Prompts are rolled using the TYOV system with Star Wars-themed interpretation
- Memory limits, skills, and losses are enforced per TYOV rules
- The character sheet will be updated in a spoiler box at the end of each update, a template of which is below.
- Multiple updates may be in a single blog post, updated via edits to align with memory arcs.
- Details Nando has forgotten in his lifespan details will be
displayed like this.
☽ Veral of Clan Vevut'tal ☾
Name and Identity Lost to Time
Name and Identity Lost to Time
★ Character Summary
• Name:
• Species: Highblood Sangnir — turned in 158 ABY
• Allegiance: Clan
• Age at Turning: 39
• Location of Turning: Ruins
• Timeline Progress: 158 ABY – 305 ABY
★ Skills
- Close-Quarters Combat (CHECKED)
Jetpack Operation "Rising Phoenix"
- Sworn off in 160 ABY
- Relic appraisal (CHECKED)
- War-form (CHECKED)
- Anima-Fueled healing (CHECKED)
- Bounty Hunting
★ Resources
- Cracked Beskar armor with clan
Vevut'talsigil scorched off Sealed Datacube of Clan Vevut'talRuins of Keldab Vevut'tal- Diary: Holocron of Sangnir Saga
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- I crawled through the shattered vaults beneath our stronghold, gut torn open, blood leaking over forgotten stone. He found me where no one else would look. Mavrad offered me eternity, and I said yes. I do not live, but haunt these ruins.
- I have shifted into a grotesque figure, and slain scavengers in the ruins of Keldab Vevut'tal. It was a temporary change, but a jarring realization of what Mavrad Blackvein has turned me into. I hide, emerging only to feed for weeks, months. I did not consider that survivors might have escaped. Only my new, horrific existence.
- Kessari uncovered the truth—Blackvein lured the raiders that destroyed my clan. Tirzah died because of him. I gathered my kin, hunted Mavrad to a tombship in the deep Expanse, and slew him in War-form after a brutal, monstrous battle. I walked away blood-soaked and silent, his sword driven through his cursed heart. My friends stood by me. My sire is dead. The silence he left behind is worse than his voice ever was.
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★ Characters
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MavradBlackvein
Immortal- Slain by Nando, 167 ABY
- Sangnir sire. An ancient Sangnir warlord
entombed beneath the ruins of an Outer Rim blood-crypt. - Highblood of ancient lineage, and chose me as an “offspring”
to inherit his burden. Cruel but methodical. Did not turn me to save me, but to use me in a centuries-long vendetta against Jedi relic-hunters- Nature of Turning:
I was mortally wounded in the destruction of Keldab Velvut'tal. Mavrad offered life eternal in exchange for servitude.
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Tirzah Dey’kar
The last person who called me "vod". half-Mandalorian slicer and part-time blood-smugglerVibrant, reckless, irreverent. Gentle, kind, virtuous, selfless.He playfully called me“Nando”becausehe took himself and his oath too seriously. "Always no, always Mando, Nando this, Nando that"Our romance burned bright during a chaotic raid campaign across Wild Space, where they teased him endlessly and kissed me when I felt like I was going to cry.Died during the destruction of Keldab Vevut'talLast words:"Lighten up, Nando. You’re not dying yet."- Returned in 173 ABY, never seen again (Died of unknown cause)
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Torik “Uncle” Vevut'tal
- Type: Relative | Elder | Armorer | Mortal | died of Old Age in 172 ABY
- Torik was my uncle by blood and Clan Vevut’tal’s last true armorer.
- Stern and deeply traditional
- Forged my first set of armor by hand, etching a proverb into the vambrace. Torik never smiled, but always watched.
-
Byrel Saun
- Type: Friend | Sparring Partner | Foil | Mortal | died of old age, 190 ABY
- Byrel was Veral’s closest comrade-in-arms, a jetpack brawler with a cracked grin and a spine full of metal plates.
- Loud, vulgar, and warm-hearted, Byrel always said he’d die “before you go full poet.” He often joked that I always looked dour and warned me not to chase death like a lover.
-
- Type: Lover | Rebel Informant | Ghost | Immortal (lowblood)
- Kessari was a smuggler with a sliver of Force sensitivity—too weak for training, strong enough to feel wrong to sith.
- She wore Mandalorian iron over desert silks and moved like a story being told in secret. Kessari and Veral had a brief, albeit intense affair while trading information and relics. She called him “beautiful in mourning” long before he’d lost anyone.
★ Marks
- A jagged, blackened wound crosses my right side—from rib to hip—where the blade that should have killed me failed to finish the job. It never healed. It weeps when I feed, and pulses with physical pain to match the emotional.
- Red eyes, glowing, piercing, unnatural. Distinctly Sangnir.
★ Memories
Memory 1:
- TBD
- Uncle Torik forged my armor in silence while I recited the names of our dead. When he sealed the chestplate shut, I thought I understood what it meant to carry a legacy.
- My eyes no longer return to their old color. They glow faintly, permanently crimson, visible even in shadow. When I look into mirrors or transparisteel, I see a stranger staring back. Others do not see me, they see hunger. The legacy I once thought I carried is so very distant. I wonder what Uncle Torik would think if he could see what I am now.
- When I feed, I heal. Even shattered bone will mend over hours. I no longer fear mortal wounds—only what I must become to survive them. Does the armor still serve a purpose if injury loses it's meaning? Am I, like my beskar'gam, no longer given meaning devoid of purpose? What legacy will I leave if I only watch as everything crumbles to dust?
- Kessari made me promise I would never sell the datacube—not for credits, not even to save our clan. I lied. And she knew.
- I reunited with Byrel, Kessari, and Uncle Torik after years in exile, only to witness them turn against each other over the sacred Datacube; I intervened, lied, and kept the relic—and with it, unearthed a blackened vibroclaw once worn by a forgotten Alor.
- After slaying Blackvein, and Uncle's death of old age, in a moment of shared fear and uncertainty, Kessari and I grew too close – and I turned her into something like me.
- Byrel and I trained on vertical cliffs, jetpacks sputtering as we fought mid-air with practice knives. He laughed when I nearly broke my ribs, called me “gravity’s favorite Mando'ad.”
- I rejected the skies and sealed my jetpack away in 160 ABY the hunger raged too fiercely to trust myself with flight. If I will hunt to consume, I will do it without bastardizing the ways of my people.
- I’ve learned to track prey across parsecs, follow the scent of fear, the rhythm of breath in transit logs, and the shift in credit flow. No contract was needed — only a reason.
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- I am Veral of Clan Vevut'tal, a Mandalorian Supercommandos and protector born in the year 120 ABY. My clan was betrayed, destroyed in 158 ABY, along with the fortress they called home. I would have died too, had I not been rescued by Blackvein, a highblood Sangnir with their own motivations.
- I am Nando, of a destroyed clan. In 179 ABY, my lover Tirzah returned, only for the revelation that they betrayed my clan and was directly responsible for my transformation. The knowledge of this pains me. Of the memories I have, this I yearn to forget.
- All whom I know have passed, save for Kessari, who has grown distant and left. I seal myself away for the foreseeable future. Long enough that I may forget Veral Vevut'tal, and that the name Nando bears no second meaning or painful memories for me. I will wait for the galaxy to call my name. To heed the call of the Mand'Alor should they discover me.
