Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Beleth | The Shadow

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbaFJiWftwk
"Justify my endless terror as my finest hour."
| Basic Information |
  • Name: Beleth
  • Alias: "Wraith", "Crimson One"
  • Rank: N/A
  • Faction: N/A
  • Species: Unknown
  • Age: 34
  • Height: 5'8"
  • Weight: 160 lbs
  • Eye Color: Unknown
  • Hair Color: Unknown
  • Skin Color: Unknown
  • Force Sensitive: Yes

| Strengths |
  • Me, Myself & I: Beleth is completely independent of branding, loyalty, or any of the ties that could come with bending a knee. He is of no use to those wishing to recruit for a cause, rather, he would see it burned or not in his sight at all. This also means that there is no worry of trusting individuals whom may become a regrettable associate.

  • Juggernaut: A man of prime, physical caliber and ruthlessnes. Beleth typically takes his fights head-on and without much worry for his own well-being. Specifically, he is a devout slave to the Dark and frequently indulges in its heavily corruptive qualities in order to gain unnatural feats.

  • Seasoned: War is something that his been so heavily involved in Beleth's life, that his duty as a soldier never seems to end. Always attentive and ready for anything at a moment's notice.
| Weaknesses |
  • War's Toll: There are an innumerable amount of horrific fates, destiny taking many-a life through bloodshed and tears. But a worse fate than death is the one where the coffin is empty, but the soul is dashed to pieces and the mind is shattered. Beleth lives a lonely, isolated life where violence and trying to remember what he was before his current lifestyle is all that's left. His mind is unhinged and spontaneous, yet clever and cruel.

  • Functionality: Beleth's temperament and mental well being make him borderline unable to control himself in a populated environment, and it can perhaps trigger an inappropriate reaction. People, loud noises, and even crowds can make Beleth uneasy or erratically hostile.

  • Corruption: The Dark is something that found Beleth rather than him discovering it. His natural attunement to the Force has marginally enabled him to succeed at a great deal of things, especially combat. War was a place where Beleth's passion came alive, where the cacophony of drums and bombs engraved themselves into his mind. Each kill, each conflict feeling like an intense high. This eventually became detrimental, causing drastic shifts in Beleth's morality and priorities.
​| Appearance |
  • Black, like space without stars. Draped from head to toe in bizarre darkness with the exception of a brightly polished, almost golden portion of a helmet. Beleth is a man that has literally left no memory of his face, or any physical attribute in anyone's mind. He is an enigma, a presence that appears on its own accord and does not do so without a firm purpose. Despite the obscurity, at some intervals one might even mention that Beleth has broad shoulders or has a rather militant step to his walk. There is nothing much to be discerned, only that his appearance typically indicates a situation is about to become horrific, or entirely unpleasant.
​| Biography |

The memories of a childhood don't exist when the innocence of those memories are dead. There are no memories for those that are willing to lay with death and become engorged with its seed of decadence. War takes lives, and it even restrains the minds and souls of those that take part. An equilibrium where no anomaly of peace or prejudice takes place. Only the spilling of crimson. Beleth's mind is one such an occasion of just how in disrepair battle forces it to become. Woe and remorse, hatred and passion. These are things Beleth learned to become instead of a mere man.

Beleth belonged to an organization among the farthest reaches of mapped space. They deemed themselves as mercenaries, blessed, or even on the verge of godhood. A collection of distorted, unchecked individuals maddened by the philosophy of power. They murdered, stole, and left impressions upon others and women to cement their desire to be feared. In the eyes of others in the galaxy, such a den of wolves would be deemed as an atrocity, perhaps even exterminated. But not here.

This was their stomping grounds, their nest.

Beleth himself held a reputation for stalking prey. His movements unheard, his figure as still as a statue. He would wait for hours in the darkness, watching villages or farmers and their families. He would look at the children first, look at how they interact with their parents and the world around them. It was something he craved, that innocence. Something about the soft flesh and warm smile of a child that urged the melting of hearts. But to Beleth, they were lambs for the slaughter. Interestingly enough, Beleth was the only one of his group to construct a functional lightsaber, as they lovingly dubbed him as "Crimson One".

The child's mother and father usually attempt to put up a fight, but a man armed with little more than a shoddy hunting rifle was no match for burning sanguine. The mother(s) at this point usually attempt to protect the child, but they're taken away to be inspected for breeding purposes. And lastly comes the runt, the veal. It is purposed that each child to be discovered should be slain. Each pair of big, teary eyes being one more potential issue down the road.

And there hadn't been any issues.

Beleth didn't honestly know how to feel about his deeds. At one moment he felt nothing but the adrenaline and thrill of a kill, the next he was slightly nauseous and void of any thought or feeling - he was numb. The killings, despite how involved Beleth was, had taken a toll on his mind. Each night that came caused sleep to become a rarity, each new sunrise was bleak and uninspiring.

Was this called remorse? Beleth didn't know what such a thing really was, but the uneasy feeling of something eating away at his gut told him that he understood what was right and wrong. But with each night they struck, with each body slumped over or mother locked away in a cage, those odd feelings of foreign nature began to disipate. Beleth became ruthless, dishonorable, and disgusting. Eventually the darkly cloaked figure took a liking to abducting at least a handful of children to test for potential. Some put up a good struggle, yet others seemed so empty inside and accepted death without even flinching.

This concerned the butcher. He was so used to seeing fear in the eyes of many right before he cut them down, but some of these children showed no fear at all. This was like a deeply seeded weapon against Beleth, the lack of suffering causing him to grow quite irritated and even more sadistic in his efforts to evoke even the faintest cry or whimper. Eventually the torture was too tedious for the warrior, and outright pillaging and murder quickly became his favorite pastime.

Months turned to years, and the disease of the mind encroached upon Beleth's sanity. Hundreds of days' worth of coagulated blood staining the cells and pits of slaves and breeders. Numbers had blossomed and the children and families of the clan had multiplied tenfold. Their lives stolen from the ones that did not deserve the hemorrhaging of hearts, the defilement of mothers, and the sacrilege of personal effects.

This was their paradise. Until one fateful day.

Screams and murder, blood and smoke. Beleth was seen massacring his own for no apparent reason. He gave no word, and he gave no warning. His sanguine blade ripping and burning through all that had been taken and tarnished, soiled by greed and lust. Many tried to stop the champion, but faltered against his blade and anger. A day of mass confusion and strife, the malice of a man that could no longer understand the meaning of his own life. He had no one to turn to, but the Dark listened.

It catered to his pain, his innermost sorrows.

It made him strong in this moment.

After all fell silent, Beleth looked over his work and saw a reflection of what he had done to so many others. This could have happened to him and his people, someone or something could have burned them, murdered them the way he had - or even worse. Beleth finally understood that he needed to be alone. That there was no place for a man such as himself.

On that day, there were no survivors.

| Present Day |
Beleth wanders the galaxy silently, watching from the darkness while society and politics play on for his entertainment. He lurks the lowest levels of Coruscant and can occasionally be spotted elsewhere. Some people reported a mysterious dark figure following them to authorities. Investigations launched since then have ceased due to numerous disappearances of task forces. It is becoming quite clear to those trying to discover this phantom that he wants to be alone.

However, if peace will not be granted.

It will be taken.
 

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