Zak Amroth has created a new group called Judges of the Outer Rim.
Beyond the veil of civilized space lies the sprawling expanse known as the Outer Rim Territories. It is a lawless, underdeveloped waste that refuses to be claimed. Out here there would be no justice at all if it weren't for a brave few. Some may call them vigilantes, others glorified bounty hunters, but we just call them...Judges.
Saints and sinners, puritans and rogues, there is no orthodoxy out here on the galaxy's edge. They don't care what guidelines you follow, as long as you do right by the people. They can teach you to swing a lightsaber, but ancient weapons from a more civilized age are no match for a good blaster at your side. A Judge's hand cannon is a sacred thing, some of the most legendary guns in the rim have been wielded by these lawmen, inheriting their traditions from the Grey Paladins and Wardens of the Sky.
We don't got many temples out here, there's no councils or high grandmasters or the like, a Judge finds his own students. If you look like you've got potential, you're taken on as a Deputy. Once a deputy proves they can walk their own beat and survive, they are made a Sheriff of the Rim and can take on apprentices of their own. Those sheriffs who show they got true grit become Marshals, the best of the best.
I suppose you could call them monks, but of a very different sort. They drink, they raise hell, and tend not to take vows of everlasting chastity. You're more like to see one in the cockpit of a junk freighter than behind the flight stick of a slick and polished Jedi ace starfighter. They prefer trench coats over drab robes, and the stun setting over tactful diplomacy. And yet they're always on the job, for out here in the wastelands there's a mystery around every corner.
Protecting the Territories is an impossible task, but someone's gotta do it. Think you got what it takes?
"I know those law books mean a lot to you, but not out here. Out here a man settles his own problems."
- Sheriff Amroth
Beyond the veil of civilized space lies the sprawling expanse known as the Outer Rim Territories. It is a lawless, underdeveloped waste that refuses to be claimed. Out here there would be no justice at all if it weren't for a brave few. Some may call them vigilantes, others glorified bounty hunters, but we just call them...Judges.
Saints and sinners, puritans and rogues, there is no orthodoxy out here on the galaxy's edge. They don't care what guidelines you follow, as long as you do right by the people. They can teach you to swing a lightsaber, but ancient weapons from a more civilized age are no match for a good blaster at your side. A Judge's hand cannon is a sacred thing, some of the most legendary guns in the rim have been wielded by these lawmen, inheriting their traditions from the Grey Paladins and Wardens of the Sky.
We don't got many temples out here, there's no councils or high grandmasters or the like, a Judge finds his own students. If you look like you've got potential, you're taken on as a Deputy. Once a deputy proves they can walk their own beat and survive, they are made a Sheriff of the Rim and can take on apprentices of their own. Those sheriffs who show they got true grit become Marshals, the best of the best.
I suppose you could call them monks, but of a very different sort. They drink, they raise hell, and tend not to take vows of everlasting chastity. You're more like to see one in the cockpit of a junk freighter than behind the flight stick of a slick and polished Jedi ace starfighter. They prefer trench coats over drab robes, and the stun setting over tactful diplomacy. And yet they're always on the job, for out here in the wastelands there's a mystery around every corner.
Protecting the Territories is an impossible task, but someone's gotta do it. Think you got what it takes?
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