A silver haired Miraluka with an inscrutable character


Height: 5’1”
Age: 26
Notable features: No Eyes, Shoulder length hair (silver-white), Wears a Miralukan mask to conceal brands on her forehead and upper cheeks.
Wears red whenever possible.


Her early story is not a happy one. Born to Miralukan parents, on a planet she no longer remembers, she lived as a relatively unimpressive little girl. Her father worked as a teacher in a jedi temple, giving her minor exposure to the jedi teachings (though they never really stuck), while her mother worked in agriculture, as many of her family members had done for generations. Her life took a turn for the worst in her seventh year of life, when the Empire decided to attack. The details of the raid where lost over time (it was unimportant compared to the raging galactic war happening about them) but the invaders took time to strike at the temple, killing many Jedi and Dargrania’s father among them. The local populace was assailed by bloodthirsty imperial soldiers and lightsaber weilding fanatics, looking for an outlet for their murderous desire. The community was devastated. Hundreds captured to use as trophies and slave labor, and far more simply butchered for fun. She was among some of the “lucky” ones who were shipped away to forced labor sites dotting the empire. Her suffering for the next few years was horrible, to say the least. Injuries, scars, abuse, torture, manipulation, branding, these accrued over time and she endured it for years, slowly learning how to survive among the mistreated and broken populace of the labor sites. She began to learn how to manipulate others to get what she wanted, to hide any sign of weakness from those around her, and the cost of trusting too much. She meticulously watched her captors, learning the structure of imperial power, hoping to learn how to survive its crushing weight.
Finally, by age twelve, something critical happened. Her talent with the force manifested, violently. In reaction to a particularly brutal purge of dissenting slaves, she found herself the target of a particularly violent overseer, and she grasped at any and all means to defend herself. Her fear, compounded by her desire to live, unleashed her ability to manipulate the force, causing a wave of power to wash over the overseer, breaking his body, and leaving a crumpled mess in its place. Soon after cloaked figures subdued the child, whose power seemed spent as soon as it appeared, and brought her before their master. There, she was given the same ultimatum as all force sensitive imperials; join or die. Her answer was clear, and immediate. “I will be Sith.”


Fires Of Liberty PretzelKilla