Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Approved NPC Krellan ‘Smiley’ Rahn

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OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION
PHYSICAL INFORMATION

  • Age: 28

  • Force Sensitivity: None

  • Species: Noghri

  • Appearance: Tall, ugly, mean-looking motherkarker. A right proper son of Nadir, with a scar splitting his bottom lip in half so you can always see his fangs even when he ain’t smiling. (And he never smiles.) Plenty of green scales are missing in places, knotted over with flesh that never properly healed.
SOCIAL INFORMATION

  • Name: Krellan Rahn, Smiley

  • Loyalties: Nadir

  • Wealth: Hand to mouth

  • Notable Possessions: Vibroknuckles, a battered holdout blaster

  • Skills: Exceptional street fighter. His martial art of choice is that of survival at any cost.

  • Personality: Krellan ‘Smiley’ Rahn earned his middle name by never doing any of it. He’s known for pummeling his opponents into the dirt until you’d have a hard time scraping them off the ground with a scalpel. Chronically punch-drunk and choleric, Rahn isn’t a man you’d want as anything other than the name on your betting ticket in a Nadir pit fight.
COMBAT INFORMATION

  • Weapon of Choice: Fists, legs, teeth, and claws. In a pinch, anything will do.

  • Combat Function:
    Battering ram: He knows how to punch, and how to make it
    hurt. A Mando veteran wouldn’t be embarrassed to lose to this guy.
    Rocky: Hit him, he’ll bounce. Hit him again, he’ll bounce, again. Rahn’s a tough son of a schutta and knows it.
    One trick pony: Fighting is all he’s ever known. He lacks any formal education, can barely read, and hasn’t seen anything of the Galaxy beyond the flashy holodisplays installed all over the Arcade.
    Too young to die: Hardy or not, a lifetime of strikes to the head takes its toll. Rahn is a walking showcase of badly healed fractures, nasty scars, and abused joints.
HISTORICAL INFORMATION

Krellan and Naedim were both born in the Nest. Father was a drunk and a gambler, mother was an ever-absent merc. In the massive culling and bloodshed that followed the brutal death of Sogrim Selenov, every sellgun on the station got brought in as additional force when the regulars all fell under fire. Scylla Rahn ended up like most folk in those days did – face down in a gutter with a hole in her chest.

His younger brother, Naedim, karked off right then and there. Nothing left of Nadir but a sour taste in his mouth and ten years’ worth of bad memories. Krellan, alone with his failing liver of a father, did his best. Did what any noghri does best.

He fought.

Brought in decent credits over the years. Enough to keep him and his dad afloat in that rundown shack at the shet-end of the Nest, enough to buy himself a blaster and practice on the fethers who tried to rob his home every other week.

Enough to buy da a decent funeral when all that lead poisoning finally got him good, and enough to buy himself a ticket to the upper league of the Arcade’s pits.
 
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