Sunari Selan

Identity

Ability scores

Saving throws

Skills

Weapons

Force powers

• Force Healing
• Move/Push/Pull Object
• Shii-Cho – Momentum Flow
• Combat Precognition

Languages

Inventory

• Short Sword · 1.5 kg
• Medpac I · 0.5 kg
• Mystic Robe · 2 kg

Backstory

The geometric tattoos climbing Sunari Selan's cheekbones told a story she no longer believed in. Each mark had been earned on Mirial — through discipline, through endurance, through the quiet certainty that the Force was a compass and she, one day, would learn to read it without flinching. Her people understood that devotion and severity were not opposites. Neither, she had believed, were compassion and strength. The Jedi Order found her late, by their standards. Eleven years old when a travelling Knight paused on Mirial long enough to notice the way she already knew where a conversation was going before it arrived. She was brought to Coruscant, to the Jedi Temple, to the slow machinery of padawan training — and for years, she was good. Not brilliant. Her masters never mistook her for that. She struggled with the texts, with the doctrinal layers, with the way the Code was argued in abstractions she couldn't always follow. What she had instead was something quieter and harder to teach: she could *feel* the shape of a moment before it broke. She moved through a room the way water moves through roots. Her master called it gift. The Council called it promising. What she wanted, in those years, was simple and enormous: she wanted to belong to something worthy of the marks on her face. She wanted the Jedi to be that thing. The night it came apart was not dramatic by Coruscant's standards. A confrontation in the lower levels — a trafficker, a group of terrified civilians, a standoff already fraying. Sunari had read the room the way she always did, feeling the intention coiled in the man before he'd made his choice. She felt the danger. She felt the moment it would become irreversible. And she moved first, harder than she needed to, because she had decided — in a breath, in a heartbeat — that the lives around her weighed more than the chance she might be wrong. She was not wrong. But the Council was precise about what had been necessary, and what had not been, and where exactly she had crossed the line. They did not expel her with ceremony. They simply made clear what she had demonstrated: that the compassion she intellectually understood had not yet found its way into her hands. She left the Temple with a short sword she did not choose and a medpac she hoped she would not need, and she did not look back at the spires. She was twenty-eight now, moving through the Republic's edges, learning what the Force asked of her outside the rooms where it had been explained so carefully. She still read herbs the way other people read maps — their properties, their uses, what grew where and why. She still sensed things coming before they arrived. She still did not entirely trust the people who told her they trusted her. What she wanted now was harder to name than belonging. It was something like *proof* — that the decision she'd made in that corridor had not simply been violence wearing the right justification. That there was a version of herself the tattoos could still be honest about. She hadn't found it yet.

Roleplaying notes

- **Combat Precognition as Burden, Not Advantage:** Sunari's Force sense means she often knows what's coming — play this as a weight, not a gift. When danger approaches, she goes quiet and still first, as though bracing for something only she can feel. - **Low INT, High WIS — the Gap Between Knowing and Explaining:** Sunari understands people and situations with uncanny accuracy but cannot always articulate *why* she's right. Let her be frustrated when pressed for reasoning; she reads the room, she doesn't footnote it. - **The Herb Habit:** Whenever Sunari enters a new environment, she notes what's growing — medically useful plants, local flora, anything edible or healing. This is her version of small talk, and the one subject where her stoic exterior genuinely softens. - **Earned Trust, Slowly:** Sunari does not open up to allies quickly, and she watches strangers longer than is comfortable before engaging. She is not hostile — she is *patient*, which sometimes looks the same; allies who prove consistent over time will find she becomes quietly, fiercely loyal. - **Sparse, Precise Speech:** She doesn't fill silence. When she speaks, it tends to be declarative and short — no unnecessary softening, no small talk. If she asks you a question, it's because she already suspects the answer and wants to know if you'll lie.