Master Augustus
Ewok · Jedi Pathfinder · Level 20
Identity
Ability scores
Saving throws
Skills
Weapons
| Name | Attack | Damage | Range |
|---|---|---|---|
| ●Crossguard Lightsaber | +13 | 1d10 +3 Energy, Slashing+1d6 energy (while Empowered State active) | 5 ft |
| Blaster Pistol | +6 | 1d10 Energy | 50 ft |
| A Jedi's Last Resort | +6 | 1d10 Energy | 50 ft |
| ●Unarmed Strike | +8 | 1 +2 bludgeoning | — |
| ●Dart-Gun Cyberfinger | +11 | 1d4 Piercing | 20 ft |
Force powers
- Mind Trick
- Move/Push/Pull Object
- Force Barrier
- Force Jump
Languages
Inventory
- Crossguard Lightsaber · 1.3 kg
- Blaster Pistol · 1 kg
- Mystic Robe · 2 kg
- Medpac V · 1 kg
- Binder Cuffs · 0.5 kg
- Comlink (Long-Range) · 1 kg
- Datapad (Advanced) · 0.5 kg
- Electrobinoculars · 1 kg
- Explosive Charge×4 · 0.5 kg
- Breath Mask · 2 kg
- Holoprojector (Personal) · 0.5 kg
- A Jedi's Last Resort · 1 kg
Backstory
The Ewoks of Bright Tree Village did not name him Augustus. They called him something that did not translate — a sound like wind moving through high branches — and for the first eleven years of his life, that was enough. No one knew how a human infant came to be on Endor. The Ewoks did not question it. The forest provided strange gifts sometimes, and this pale, long-limbed child was simply one of them. He grew up in the canopy, learning the language of moss and shadow, learning that the world spoke if you went still enough to hear it. He was never the strongest child — too thin, arms like vine-rope, always outpaced by Ewoks half his size in a wrestling bout — but he could feel things the others could not. The precise moment a predator decided to move. The grief of a warrior before she knew she was grieving. The forest itself, humming beneath everything like a held note. A Jedi survey vessel grounded on Endor when Augustus was eleven — a routine mapping mission, nothing more. The Knight aboard, a Mirialan woman named Sera Ondath, noticed him the way you notice a fire in a dark room. She brought him before the Jedi Council, and he was accepted into the Order, though even then the Masters spoke quietly among themselves about the irregularity of it. Too old. Barely literate. His Galactic Basic was clumsy and accented with Ewokese clicks. He held a stylus like he was trying not to injure it. He was given to Master Ondath, who was patient with his reading and merciless with his training in the field. Under her guidance he found that his connection to the Force was not subtle — it was vast and unruly, like the Endor canopy in a storm. He learned to shape it. The Pathfinder disciplines suited him: deep reconnaissance, long-range insertion, the art of being unseen. He discovered he could move through almost any terrain without a sound and read living intentions through the Force like reading weather. He became, within a few years, someone the Order sent when they needed a problem found before it became a crisis. He had trained three Padawans by the time he was twenty-two. He was proud of that, perhaps too proud. The third was a seventeen-year-old Togruta named Veln, quick and reckless and gifted, and Augustus loved her the way the Ewoks had taught him to love — practically, without embarrassment, as a fact of the world. When the Separatist blockade of Ryloth escalated and Veln's unit was cut off in the lowland passes, Augustus went in without orders to pull her out. He found the aftermath. Battle droid units, systematic, thorough. He found his lightsaber in her hand — he had lent it to her two weeks prior when her own was damaged, a small thing, a temporary thing. He carried her back in silence. The Jedi Council did not reprimand him. They spoke of grief and attachment and the Living Force. He listened. He said the correct things. Inside, something had calcified into something uglier and more honest. The Clone Wars had already begun by then, and Augustus went into them willingly, wearing his grief like a second robe. He wanted the Separatists dismantled — not politically, not strategically. He wanted it personally, with his hands, with the weight of it felt. He knew this wanting was not the Jedi way. He also knew he was not finished wanting it. The crossguard lightsaber he now carried was built to replace the one returned to him from Ryloth. He had not yet decided what it was for.
Roleplaying notes
- **Force Sense Over Intellect:** Augustus has a WIS of 17 but an INT of 14 — when facing complex tactical or scholarly problems, lean on gut reads and Force-assisted intuition rather than cold analysis; he should often be *right* for reasons he cannot fully articulate, which makes him difficult to brief and easy to underestimate. - **The Grief Engine:** His hatred of the Separatists is not ideology — it is unprocessed mourning wearing ideology's clothes; when Separatist forces appear in a scene, surface the physical tells first: a jaw set too tight, hands that find the lightsaber hilt before the mind decides to, silence where there should be words. - **Canopy Stillness:** Before entering any unknown space — a new room, a landing zone, an unfamiliar crowd — Augustus pauses and goes completely still for two to three seconds, a habit inherited from Endor hunting culture, using his Perception and Force sensitivity to read the space before committing to it. - **Earned Trust, Hard Given:** He bonds deeply but slowly, shaped by the Ewok model of community as something proven over time; he is warmer and more physically expressive with trusted allies than most Jedi and almost wordlessly cold with strangers, not from arrogance, but because small talk was never part of his first language. - **Plain Speech, Blunt Cadence:** His Galactic Basic remains slightly off-rhythm — sentences a beat shorter than expected, idioms occasionally misapplied, emotion stated plainly where a polished speaker would soften it; he does not say *"I have concerns about that course of action"*