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Hagark Character Sheet

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Real Name: Hagark
A.K.A: x
Homeworld: Felucia
Species:  Jungle Felucian 


Physical Description
Age: 24
Height: 6’10
Weight: 188 lbs
Hair: Red
Eyes: Red 
Sex: Male 



Clothing or Armor: Primitive Rags, Mask, 
Weapon: Felucian Bonesword, Wooden Shield
Common Inventory: Bone Necklaces, Red/Yellow dyed Cape


Faction Information
Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force Sensitive
Archetype: Sorcerer (Shaman) 
Alignment:  Chaotic Evil
Current Faction Affiliation: Sith    
Current Faction Rank: Hopeful



Force Side: Dark 
Trained by: Felucian Shamans, Cult of the Spore
Trained who: None
Known Skills: Hunting, Wrestling, rudimentary sword combat, stealth 
Force Powers: Force Sense,



Once, Hagark was a mushroom farmer. In the Felucian Caste system, he was pretty low but also comfortable. He had a peaceful life amongst the forests of Felucia. He would occasionally meet and trade with outsiders of his worldly tribe, bartering his goods for whatever the shamans needed. He never dreamed big. He didn’t dream of quests and hunts. He never wandered far from his birth spot where his mother was buried. He simply listened to the peace of the Force and led a decent, happy life. 


However, when the Sith attacked Felucia, and his mushroom farm burned to the ground, he was lost for a while. He didn’t want to return to the farm yet. He needed something else. After the attack, something awakened in him. 


In the days he spent waiting, he discovered it was Rage. Rage at the Sith for attacking his home and burning his farm and hurting his tribe. Rage that he didn’t do anything to stop  the Sith, that he didn’t pick up his weapons to fight alongside Jedi and Warriors. And greatest of all, he felt Rage at himself for being curious at the kind of power the Sith wielded. 


Rumors began to feed into the global tribe. A group of outcasts had found something. Exiles had begun to make a place for themselves and were fighting the great tribe. Something wicked had snuck into the heart of Felucia, and risked destruction of all. Something vile, greedy and hungry was growing. 


At first, Hagark didn’t care about the rumors. His place was a farmer of the great tribe. He would tend to his burnt lands and fix what was destroyed. He wasn’t going to quest after some mythical ‘sub-tribe’ no matter how much rage and curiosity he felt. 


However, a choice was made for Hagark. During the night, he and a group of other Felucians were kidnapped and taken to the Shamans of the Great Spore. It was there he inhaled the spores and made contact with the Great Spore. And it was there his eyes were opened. 


Rage, now fed and nurtured by the Great Spore, flourished wildly. No longer a farmer, Hagark fought for the Great Spore, killing his once relatives in combat. He didn’t care for the sword at first. He preferred the snapping of necks, the breaking of bones, and the taste of flesh. The other Shamans of the Great Spore saw the raw power building up in Hagark and communed with the Great Spore. In its wisdom, it made a demand. 


Hagark packed up and left the cult, seeking a ship off world. He was excited for his first quest. He would find the Sith who harmed his world. He would fight them. He would regift rage with rage. And he would make them come back for his new tribe. They wanted to leave. That was the will of the Great Spore. And he was both its messenger and its monster. 

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