Soren Valis

Soren Valis: Shadow of the Force Introduction Beneath twin suns and in the hush of ancient stone, Soren Valis first felt the Force stir around him. He was no prodigy thrust into the Jedi order as a child. Instead, he emerged on the Outer Rim world of Kessari—scrap metal in one hand, a thirst for purpose in the other. Discovered at nineteen by a wandering Jedi Master, Soren’s raw connection to the living Force had saved his life during a brutal sSoren Valis: Shadow of the Force Introduction Beneath twin suns and in the hush of ancient stone, Soren Valis first felt the Force stir around him. He was no prodigy thrust into the Jedi order as a child. Instead, he emerged on the Outer Rim world of Kessari—scrap metal in one hand, a thirst for purpose in the other. Discovered at nineteen by a wandering Jedi Master, Soren’s raw connection to the living Force had saved his life during a brutal sandstorm. From that day forward, he walked a solitary path. His visage became the stuff of whispered tales: broad-shouldered, weather-scarred, eyes storm-grey and unblinking. While other Jedi trained under tutors and councils, Soren chose months of isolation—deep in Kessari’s shifting dunes—to let the Force speak unfiltered through wind and soul. Now, having returned to the Republic fold, he stands on the cusp of destiny. And in his heart burns a single certainty: his dream-quest for Obi-Wan Kenobi will change everything. --- Chapter I: Origins in the Dunes Soren’s earliest memories smell of rust and ozone. Raised by scavengers picking through wreckage on Kessari Prime, he learned to prize silence. Years before his Force awoke, he wandered crystalline canyons alone, trading water for scrap, listening to the world’s hidden harmonies. When the sandstorm came—blacker than a black hole—Soren clung to life by guiding gutted repulsorlift engines to shield a makeshift camp. The same unseen entity that drove him now guided a Jedi named Mar’lina Vos to his side. Mar’lina sensed potential strong enough to fracture worlds. Within a week, she had taught him to focus pain into power, grief into serenity. But the Temple’s halls rang hollow to Soren. He watched Padawans spar and debate doctrine while his own heart thrummed with untamed possibility. One dawn, he slipped beyond the Temple gates, compass in pocket, whispering a vow to let the Force alone instruct him. --- Chapter II: Solitude and Attunement Months unfolded like a tapestry woven by twin threads of stillness and revelation. Soren built his sanctuary in the Ghost Dunes—a place where shifting sand revealed ancient glyphs beneath every footstep. Each night, he sat atop a jagged outcrop, eyes closed, inviting the Force to teach him its secrets. Lessons came unbidden. He felt the heartbeat of thundering sandworms. He tasted the bitterness of broken war droids buried beneath the dunes. With each revelation, his power grew—and so did his scars. He learned to bend sandstorms into swirling shields, to sense a creature’s heartbeat from leagues away, and to ignite his blade with a single thought. Word of the Lone Jedi drifted across the Outer Rim like sand on the wind. Smugglers, bounty hunters, even desperate settlers sent rumors: “He walks without footsteps.” “His blade sings before he swings.” But Soren never sought fame. His quest was inward—an ever-tightening spiral toward tranquility. --- Chapter III: The Unbidden Dream When first the dream came, Soren stood on a cobblestone street back on Coruscant—a fleeting vision of a man cloaked in weathered brown, lean face alight with both burden and humor. The stranger’s eyes met his in a crowded marketplace, and a voice, fractured yet insistent, whispered: Seek Kenobi. Awakening in a sweat, Soren dismissed it as nostalgia for Jedi lore. Yet the vision returned night after night—Kenobi teaching the young Luke, Kenobi conferring with Clone Generals, Kenobi alone in a desert beyond memory. Each dream left Soren rattled, a magnet pulled ever inward. By the seventh night, he could not ignore the summons. The Force itself felt

GARKY-PARKY

Pwowtowtow,cantankerous

Garky-Parky

Ping wow

Rutherford the brave

Hello lads and lasses! Good morrow Good morrow to ya all of course! I have the mantle of being one Sir Rutherford the brave formerly of the Lands of darkness and doom . But I never am going back there, couldn't if I tried. Cause I come from the land of lizards and the lizards they have died