Bite (Jerry)
Chadra-Fan · Assassin · Level 3
Identity
Ability scores
Saving throws
Skills
Weapons
| Name | Attack | Damage | Range |
|---|---|---|---|
| ●Short Sword | +5 | 1d6 -1 Slashing, Piercing+1d6+4 (when attacking while hidden) | 5 ft |
| ●Blaster Pistol | +5 | 1d10 Energy+1d6 (when attacking while hidden) | 50 ft |
| Vibrodagger | +0 | 2d4 -1 Slashing, Piercing+1d6+4 (when attacking while hidden) | 5 ft |
| ●Unarmed Strike | +1 | 1 -1 bludgeoning | — |
Languages
Inventory
- Blaster Pistol · 1 kg
- Computer Spike +1 · 1 kg
- Medpac I · 0.5 kg
- Combat Vest · 3 kg
- Long Hood · 1 kg
- Medpac II×2 · 0.6 kg
- Syntherope · 2.5 kg
- Computer Spike +2 · 1 kg
- Short Sword · 1.5 kg
- Vibrodagger · 1 kg
Backstory
He was born on Chad, the flooded moon world of shallow seas and towering mangrove-reeds, where Chadra-Fan clans lived in stilt-villages and survived by staying small and staying clever. His clan named him something untranslatable in Basic — a clicking, high-pitched syllable that outsiders immediately reduced to "Jerry." He hated it from the first time a human spat it at him across a cantina bar. He kept the name anyway. It was useful. People who called you Jerry stopped watching you. When the Clone Wars ended and the Empire rose, Chad was not spared the galaxy's new order. Imperial surveyors arrived within two years of Palpatine's declaration, flagging the moon's waterways for resource extraction and establishing a regional garrison at the largest settlement. Chadra-Fan were small, soft-spoken, and easily dismissed — which meant Imperial administrators handled them with bureaucratic contempt rather than outright brutality, at least at first. Bite watched it happen with enormous dark eyes and said nothing. He was twelve years old and already understood that silence was a tool. He left Chad at fourteen, aboard a smuggling freighter running spice-adjacent cargo toward the Outer Rim. The captain, a Duros named Vass Orrec, needed someone who could squeeze through ventilation shafts, bypass security panels, and disappear in a crowd. Bite could do all three before breakfast. Orrec taught him to read a computer terminal the way a predator reads terrain, and Bite's natural Chadra-Fan aptitude for mechanical systems sharpened into something professional and dangerous. He learned to use syntherope before he learned to properly aim a blaster pistol. The assassination work came later, and it came sideways. A dock boss on Nar Shaddaa put a bounty on a low-level ISB informant who had gotten three smugglers killed. Bite took the job not for ideology but for credits — and then found he was extraordinarily good at it. He moved through spaces no human operative could reach, threaded through vents and market crowds wearing his long hood pulled low, and was gone before anyone thought to look at the floor. His reputation built quietly, the way dangerous things do. He operates now somewhere in the lawless stretch between Hutt Space and the Mid Rim, taking contracts selectively, never against civilians, never against children — a line he holds so absolutely it has cost him work and once nearly cost him his life when a client revealed the target late. He carries two short swords because blasters make noise, and noise is for amateurs. The blaster pistol in his inventory is for emergencies and intimidation — because nothing unsettles a mark faster than a creature half their height locking eyes with them and not blinking. He thinks about children sometimes. His own, someday. It is the only future he has ever wanted that money cannot buy, and the thought of dying in a ventilation shaft before he gets there makes his jaw tighten in a way that no Imperial patrol ever quite manages.
Roleplaying notes
- **Expertise in Intimidation:** Lean hard into the contrast — Bite is 4.6 feet tall and speaks quietly; let long pauses and unblinking eye contact do the work before you say a single threatening word, reflecting your expert-level Intimidation built entirely on presence rather than size. - **Chadra-Fan Senses:** Your species' acute chemoreceptors make you hyperaware of emotional states in those around you; play this as an unsettling habit of commenting on what someone *feels* before they say it, which your Perception proficiency reinforces mechanically when reading a room. - **Pre-Op Ritual:** Before any infiltration or contract, Bite runs his syntherope through his hands twice and checks both computer spikes by touch — a grounding habit that signals to allies he has shifted from "goofy Jerry" mode into something quieter and significantly more dangerous. - **Relationship Style:** Bite lets strangers call him Jerry and keeps them comfortable in that mistake; allies who have seen him work earn the name Bite, and he never offers it — they arrive at it themselves, which functions as his private measure of respect. - **Speech Pattern:** Bite speaks in short, flat declarative sentences when working and loose, lightly sarcastic Basic when he wants people underestimating him; he almost never raises his voice, because in his experience, the ones who have to shout have already lost the room.