Eidoloclast
NAME: SILAS OF OSSUSSPECIES: NEAR-HUMAN
AGE: 21
GENDER: MALE
HEIGHT: 1.87 METERS
WEIGHT: 76 KILOGRAMS
EYES: BLUE
FORCE SENSITIVE: YES
FACTION: NONEEMPLOYMENT: EXPLORER
TRAITS & THINGS:[ IT HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN ] - A life of fighting and combat has left Silas with the inability to back down from a fight. In his experience the moment you lay down your weapon, you might as well be forfeiting your life. He will keep fighting, no matter the odds, and one day this might just kill him.
[ YOU WILL BLEED FOR ME ] - This speaks for itself, Silas enjoys fighting on the field of battle. Outside of that the world seems less alive, more gray and lackluster in comparison.
[ AFFINITY ] - Has a natural inclination towards mentalism and affiliated disciplines. This makes it easier for him to read and influence people.
[ INSTINCT ] - Since his sixth birthday Silas has been with several cultures that exalt the life of war, battle and blood, he draws from all those previous experiences while fighting and that makes him full of surprises.[ FRACTURED ] - A nasty fall broke his shoulder some time ago. The Ysanna have little in the way of efficient medical equipment and as such the shoulder has healed rather badly. It still locks up at times, usually the worst of times, and rotation is quite the trouble during battle. He has decided to switch up his entire combat form because of this.
[ REVERSE ] - With his right shoulder no longer reliable, he is currently in the progress of relearning all that he knows with his left arm - less trained, completely against his instincts, it will be a while before Silas regains full competency in combat.
BIOGRAPHY:
There’s a lot I could say about my upbringing, but the first and foremost thing that has to be noted is the following: even if I had any choice in the matter I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. From the moment that I could stand I was being trained in one way or another- at first it didn’t even .. that this wasn’t the way one's childhood should be. But I never had playtime, no toys to play with, no friends - well, except her son, who I probably still consider one of my best friends if not the best.
My last years, before he called me back to his home, were spend with the Ysanna of Ossus. They are an indigenous tribe, primitive- pre-flight level- but they possessed an intricate knowledge on things that the greater part of the Galaxy has long since forgotten.
They communed with the spirits, for one. Drawing on the wisdom of their forefathers, some of them even bound them to their mortal shells and increased their own force potential. When I told him about that… both eyebrows rose up and in all the time that I have known him? He had never been surprised, not like that at least.
The Ysanna were wild. Feral. They were and still are attuned to nature and their inner-self, unlike many others and they taught me the best they could.
My blood is dark, one of the Shamans told me once.
That was his explanation for the things that sometimes happened during battle.
I don’t think he wanted me to assimilate most of their teachings. No, I am certain he did not want that, but his indignation only strengthened my resolve. Those people were a second family and I’d honor their traditions, one way or another.
He’s gone now.
Dead. At least, as dead as one such as he can be. I don’t think he can be completely killed, not permanently anyway, but a part of me… I probably imagined it, but he seemed pleased at the end of it. As the blood flowed, as his grasp over my mind lessened, just pleased.
Why pleased?
