Toka Shanni
Togruta · Jedi Padawan · Level 1
Identity
Ability scores
Saving throws
Skills
Weapons
| Name | Attack | Damage | Range |
|---|---|---|---|
| ●Training Lightsaber | +5 | 1d8 Energy, Slashing | 5 ft |
| ●Unarmed Strike | +2 | 1 bludgeoning | — |
Force powers
- Force Healing
- Move/Push/Pull Object
- Mind Trick
- Detoxify
Languages
Inventory
- Padawan Robes · 3 kg
- Training Lightsaber · 1 kg
- Medpac I · 0.5 kg
- Syntherope · 2.5 kg
Backstory
She was not given a name for three days. The Jedi who carried her from the village on Shili did not know what to call her — only that she was strong in the Force, warm with it even then, her tiny montrals already drinking in the sounds of the world around her. The local woman who had loved her father briefly and unwisely had pressed the infant into the Jedi's arms without meeting his eyes. Whatever that man's name was — whatever rank he had held, whatever code he had quietly broken in a moment of loneliness on a distant posting — it was never entered into any record Toka could find. The order named her Toka Shanni. It meant nothing in particular. It meant she belonged to them now. She grew up inside the Temple the way a plant grows inside a greenhouse — tended, sheltered, never quite touching open sky. The other Initiates had vague memories of somewhere else: a smell, a voice, a color that didn't exist in the Temple halls. Toka had none of that. The Order was not her home because she had chosen it. It was her home because it was the only coordinate she had ever been given, and she clung to it with a ferocity she had learned, slowly and painfully, to disguise as serenity. She was not particularly brilliant. The texts on Jedi history and Republic law sat in her hands like stones she couldn't quite throw. What she had instead was feeling — a perceptive stillness, the instinct of a creature whose species once hunted by listening, by sensing the displacement of the world around a living thing. She could feel a classmate's grief before they had found words for it. She could feel a Master's distraction like a change in air pressure. The Force came to her not through discipline but through that native attunement, and it made her dangerous in ways her instructors hadn't fully charted yet. The wound arrived during her first field exercise, a supervised relief mission to the outer edge of Tython's satellite settlements — small work, meant to be safe. A child had gone into a collapsed irrigation tunnel. The assigned Padawan froze. Toka didn't think. She went in, training lightsaber useless at her belt, using Move Object to shift the debris above by feel in the dark, her palms bleeding from stone edges she couldn't see. She got the child out. She also brought down the secondary wall trying to clear an exit faster than she should have, and a Jedi Knight named Orvasse took a head wound that cost him partial hearing in one ear. He did not blame her. His quiet, careful lack of blame was almost worse than anger would have been. She carries the syntherope she bought afterward like a rebuke she's issued to herself. *Next time, use the rope. Next time, slow down.* But she knows — she knows with the same bone-deep certainty that makes her useful — that when the moment comes again, there will be a child in the dark, and she will go. She wants, more than advancement or approval or the answer to who her father was, to be the kind of Jedi who goes. She has not yet figured out how to do that without breaking something on the way.
Roleplaying notes
- **Force Attunement Over Intellect:** Toka's WIS 16 and Expert-level Force use mean she reads the emotional and energetic temperature of a room before she reads its words — let her *sense* what's wrong long before she can *explain* what's wrong, and play the gap between those two things. - **The CHA Deficit Is Real:** A Charisma of 6 means Toka is not warm in the room — she is warm *at* people, intensely and sometimes suffocatingly, in ways that read as odd or socially graceless; she means everything she says and has no instinct for how it lands. - **The Rope Ritual:** Toka visibly checks that her syntherope is secured on her person before entering any uncertain situation — a small, private habit she developed after Orvasse's injury, her quiet promise to herself to slow down by one beat. - **Allies Get Too Much, Strangers Get Walls:** She bonds fast and completely with people she decides matter to her, and she is genuinely, almost uncomfortably attentive to their wellbeing — but with strangers she is closed and watchful, her montrals tilting slightly toward them the way an animal tracks an unfamiliar sound. - **She Speaks Plain and Late:** Toka doesn't reach for elegant phrasing — she speaks in short, direct sentences and usually waits one beat too long before speaking, as though she is double-checking whether the words are the right ones; she almost never is.