Kraile Nodah

Personal Data

• Name: Kraile Nodah
  
• Gender: Male
  
• Species: Draethos
  
• Age: 20
  
• Refresh: 3
  

• Actor: Mike Foster
  
• Campaign: Heart of the Dark Side
  
• System: Fate Accelerated Edition
  
• Player: User:Hadokenchild
  

BACKGROUND

Kraile Nodah was born on Draethos to a long established lineage of highly respected warriors. Unfortunately, his family had also given rise to its fair share of exiles as well. Even before Kraile's birth, there were wagers being placed as to which "side" of the family he would take after. The odds were stacked more so in favor of him following in his father's footsteps, who not only made a name for himself in the gladiatorial games, but as a mercenary as well. Still, there were many Draethos who were convinced Kraile would end up like his cousin Talon Slyter, or worse still, like the infamous Odan-Urr.

Kraile was almost conditioned from birth to follow a warrior's path. From hand to hand combat and martial weapons training, to grueling physical endurance gauntlets, the young Draetho's limits were taxed almost daily. It was a process he thought would never end. Over the years, as his disinterest began to slowly build, it also became less obvious to hide. His instructors began to take notice that Kraile's focus and effort were clearly not 100%. They began to question his resolve, his fortitude, and his place among the Draethos. But nobody questioned it more than his own father.

Having been keeping close tabs on Kraile's development, Kraile's father Drelle was far from pleased with Kraile ruffling some bureaucratic feathers. What began as an accosting from an overbearing parent towards an overworked child, escalated to a shouting match as the difference of opinion grew wider. When Kraile finally confessed abandoning of the culture's warrior way, it let loose a torrent of rage inside his father. The onslaught was sudden, and caught Kraile off guard. Kraile was able to defend himself, but only for a short while. The first blow caught Kraile in the abdomen, knocking the air from his lungs. Desperately trying to breathe, Kraile couldn't defend himself effectively enough, and his father quickly overpowered him.

Kraile lay on the ground, bleeding. His father's from stood looming over him in smug, and condescending triumph. The next thing Drelle knew, he was waking up in a pile of debris that used to be a wall in the house. He struggled to sit up. It was clear he had a few broken ribs, a dislocated collarbone, a splitting headache, and a warm pain slowly spreading across his abdomen. As his vision came back into focus, he could see Kraile's silhouette though the haze of dust. His eyes closed, arms outstretched as if pushing something invisible away, mouth open as if he was screaming, but only stifled whimpers could be heard. Drelle, ignoring the more important matters at hand, became angry again. The bitterness and contempt in his voice, stammered through the enormous amount of pain he was in, to deliver his final rebuking of the child he once called his son.

"So... this is the thanks I get? *cough cough* After all I've given you. I gave you my name *wheeze* my home, my heritage. And this *cough* is how my kindness is returned. *wheeze* By soiling that very name I gave you! *cough cough cough* I should've never... ever, taken you in.*cough* I... would've been far better off *cough cough* letting you two rot on Feriae Junction! *cough wheeze* Your mother was... all alone out there. Ironic... isn't it? *cough wheeze cough* Now she'll be alone here too..."

Kraile stood before the docking bay doors, bracketed by armed guards. He got his wish, to be rid of this world for good, but not in the way he wanted. As the door hissed open, he looked over his shoulder. Scanning the scowling faces of the crowd that had come to see the young Draethos exiled, he caught sight of his mother looking unbearably sad. He couldn't tell who she was sad for. Drelle, or him? She just continued to stare blankly downward, the light he fondly remembered in her eyes extinguished. She looked empty. It would be the last image of Draethos Kraile would see before the doors hissed closed behind him.

The shuttle arrived at the distant planet of Bonadan. Bonadan was chief port world of the Corporate Sector and the primary world in the Bonadan system, boasting 10 gigantic spaceports. It was a strip-mined planet at the end of the Hydian Way. The densely populated planet housed many exotic species from around the galaxy. Here, Kraile found work, taking up a job to whoever needed the help at the time. He even earned two hunks of beskar and bronzium ore for his efforts during a stint loading minerals onto a cargo freighter. During his down time, Kraile would practice his "magic" tricks in secrecy. He knew that, whatever this power is, it was the key to a better life. Kraile decided to do an impromptu street performance, just to see if there was any spare change to be made with his "unique" abilities.

The resulting public reaction was much more positive than he could've expected, yet less than he'd hoped for. Even though his abilities were unrefined, even a bit sloppy at times, his command of illusions was flawless to the layman. Even though he wasn't pulling in even a meager earning from his performances, credits are credits, and a handful here and there could earn you a meal AND a bed for the night. As the months went by, the youngling, now in his early teens, was still living a scavenger type of life. His naive ignorance to non-Draethos cultures exposed his lack of social and economic skills. People were taking advantage of him, and he didn't even know it.

One day Kraile's self-appointed "manager", Gethek Wub-Wub, a two-bit street-wise slimeball bith with a metal right leg, sauntered up to him with his entourage of a half-dozen meat-head cronies. Every other step echoed with a clinking metallic sound.

"[I]It must be pay day[/I]!" Krail thinks to himself.

"Heya kid, how's the good life?" the bith says, with heavy sarcasm.

"Oh... good! It's good." Kraile replies as if he actually believes it. "You have my credits today?"

It's never a good sign when a group of thugs laugh at something that wasn't even remotely a joke.

"Yeah, 'bout that." Wub-Wub says with a half-restrained chuckle. "You're gonna need to butch up your act a bit, kid. You just aren't pulling the crowds like you used to."

Kraile immediately knew something was up. the crowds have been as big as they've ever been.

"Ok... so, where's my cut for today?" Kraile asked with a worried intonation.

The crew laughs again.

"Ok," Kraile interjects. "They keep doing that, why do they keep doing that?" he asks as his finger darts randomly to each person behind Gethek.

"Ya see kiddo" Gethek says as he wraps his arm around Kraile. He clamps his hand down on Kraile's shoulder a bit harder than what should be necessary between business "partners". "You aren't getting a 'cut'. Not today, or any other day. From now on, you'll be giving me everything you got. Cus if you don't, I'm gonna be disappointed. And I don't like being disappointed, you get me?"

Gethek squeezes tighter, accentuating his demands. Then, slapping Kraile roughly across the back, he laughs in his face as he turns and begins to clank away. Kraile's feelings of shame and betrayal, quickly turned into anger.

"...stop." Kraile growled between clenched teeth. The gang just continued on, laughing even louder.

"STOP!" Kraile bellowed, his voice reverberating off the high ceiling of the spaceport marketplace interior.

The gang halts, but were not turning around to face him.

"Now... you [I]owe[/I] me, Wub-Wub. You owe me my 35%, and I better get it!"

The gang, slowly turns around to face a now livid Kraile. But, something's different about them. Their expressions are blank, emotionless, and it unnerved Kraile for a moment. The gang moved together en mass, their footsteps in sync, never breaking their leisurely gait. Kraile was frozen, stunned. Gethek reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of credits.

"I want to give you [I]all[/I] my credits." a young woman's voice said from behind the beefcake curtain.

"I want to give you [I]all[/I] my credits." Gethek replies verbatim. He fishes around another pocket and pulls out a large stack of credits, more than what he had been leeching off of Kraile. He hands the stacks of credits to Kraile, and waits.

"I want to go home and think about my poor decisions." the woman says.

"I want to go home and think about my..." Gethek seems to shake the trance has was under. He sees Kraile holding all his money and grabs the Draethos by the neck.

"What... is this one of your tricks, eh?" Gethek sneers. "You think you can steal from Wub-Wub!? I... am very [I]disappointed[/I]!"

As Gethek tightens his grip around Krailes throat, one by one his minions were being tossed by some unseen force left and right. By the time Gethek realized something was amiss, he was all alone with Kraile. His cronies were scattered everywhere, groaning wearily. Gethek turns to see a hooded female figure standing alone amidst the moaning horde on the floor. The hood covers almost her entire face accept her nose and mouth.

"Well now." she begins. "Looks like you're not as thick skulled as I thought you were."

Gathek just eyes her up and down angrily, yet confused. Not entirely sure what to make of her.

"You stay out of this, [I]female[/I]." he says spitefully. Then, the gears click. He makes the connection. "Oh! [I]You're[/I] the one who was gonna make [I]me[/I] give this punk [I]my [/I]creds!" He lets go of Kraile's neck, who immediately drops to the floor. "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this." the bith declares as he readies a combat stance. The rest of his crew collect their wits about them and rise to their feet, surrounding the mysterious woman.

Kraile quickly rose to his feet, hoping he could maybe even the odds, somehow. Surely she was insane for taking on Gethek and his crew alone. However, his advancement was abruptly cut short, as the robed woman quickly raised her hand to keep him from intervening.

"Trust me bith, when I say, you [I]don't[/I] want to do this." she warns.

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, woman. At this moment, I couldn't want anything more." Wub-Wub replies "Git'er boys!"

The woman flowed gracefully around her assailants. Her cadence and timing were impeccable, making her seem almost invulnerable. Not one blow from her attackers ever found their mark. Her strikes were a blur, yet she appeared to be putting forth little effort in dispatching foe after foe. As two nikto thugs were baring down on her from each side, she focused deeply and blasted them away with some sort of invisible wave.

"She can do magic too!?" Kraile gasped.

Suddenly, Gethek leapt high from behind the hooded woman, but it was an ill advised attack. She seemed to know he was coming, and caught him in mid-air, holding him aloft with an unseen force. She smiled at the helpless goon as she toted him around in the air.

"How does it feel to be helpless, bith?" she asked, amused. "I bet you're wishing you had made some [I]very[/I] different choices right about now."

All Gethek could do is shudder and twitch.

"Now, leave this place. Never come back." she pulls the bith in close, for effect. "Or I will not be so merciful." and she drops the bith to the floor. Gethek collects his pals and they at least flee with heir lives. She removes her hood to face Kraile. She is human. Very beautiful by human standards. Long, raven-hued hair, lays curled up in a single braid atop her head. Her skin color is akin to the outer crust of fresh baked bread, which draws even more attention to her smiling green eyes.

"Are you ok?" she asked

Taking a moment to collect himself he squeaks out the affirmative.

"My name is Jurai Cass, and I am a Jedi Knight. What you witnessed me doing today, was using something called 'the force'. It has taken me years of dedicated training to wield it effectively, and you can learn to do it to. If you wish, we can leave this place today, right now, and you could be a Jedi just like me. I've observed your abilities here, and you are clearly no simple adept. You have amazing potential, and I can help you achieve it to do great things. So, what do you think? Do you want to learn the ways of the Jedi?" she asked with a knowing smile.

DESCRIPTION

Muscular, lean build, standing 5' 9". Slate gray scaled skin, and completely hairless. Spike-like bone protrusions extend from the elbows.

His hands have an interstitial web between their four fingers, which ended in narrow tips that resembled claws.

Low-light vision, derived from the Draethos' cave-dwelling ancestors.

Draethos possess a natural telepathic ability, that allows them to communicate messages with sentient beings. This is a one-way communication. The intended target cannot reply to a Drathos's telepathy unless they too have the ability to do so.

A row of large teeth on the outside of the mouth give the appearance of an overbite. The lack of lips makes this feature even more pronounced.

ASPECTS

• High Concept: The Exiled Draethos From The Outer Rim
  
• Trouble: The Way Of The Warrior Is In My Blood
  
• Other Aspects: Young Jedi, The Darkness And The Light, Big Furry Oaf, Foxy Lark
  

APPROACHES

• Careful: Average (+1)
  
• Clever: Fair (+2)
  
• Flashy: Mediocre (+0)
  
• Forceful: Fair (+2)
  
• Quick: Good (+3)
  
• Sneaky: Average (+1)
  

STUNTS

• Illusion - Because I'm Strong In Illusion Force Powers, I gain a +2 when Cleverly creating a deception advantage.
  
• Adversary Lore - Because I know my enemy, I get +2 when I Cleverly create an advantage against an opponent in combat.
  
• Draw Closer - Because I'm skilled telekinetic combat tactics, I can use the Force to Quickly pull an enemy into the path of my lightsaber adding +2 to my attack.
  
• The Ferocity Form - Because I'm trained in the Vaapad lightsaber form, I get +2 when I quickly defend in combat.
  

STRESS & CONSEQUENCES

• Stress:
  
• Mild (2):
  
• Moderate (4):
  
• Severe (6):