Reyal Parhelon has known the wild places of Iridonia for as long as he can remember. His parents, quiet recluses by nature, taught him to survive in the harsh wilderness from a young age, guiding his first steps with a rifle and showing him how to live off the land. Their way of life was simple but harsh, shaped by the unforgiving terrain and its dangers.

That life came to a brutal end when Reyal was seven years old, during the opening skirmishes of the Confederacy’s invasion of Iridonia in the Clone Wars. The battle droids came with relentless efficiency, and his parents—strong, capable, but mortal—died in the conflict. Reyal, alone and terrified, would have followed if not for the timely arrival of Jedi General Barro Teberan and the 450th Clone Legion. Under the shadow of the Jedi's Venator-class Star Destroyer, The Dawnbreaker, the tide turned, and Iridonia’s defenders held the line.

Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps it was something more, but Barro saw potential in the orphaned boy and took him under his wing. While Reyal could not follow the clones into battle, his knowledge of the wilderness proved invaluable in scouting the planet and navigating its dangerous terrain. He became a familiar sight aboard The Dawnbreaker, often seen scrambling alongside Barro or chatting with the clones between missions. Reyal was not a soldier, and Barro kept him far from combat, but the bond they formed was undeniable.

Over time, Barro came to sense something within the boy—a latent connection to the Force. Reyal’s instincts, his sharp intuition, and his uncanny ability to read situations hinted at a gift far greater than mere survival skills. But Reyal was already too old to begin formal Jedi training, and the Clone Wars left little room for exceptions.

Barro, a resourceful and mischievous Jedi, found another way. If he couldn’t train Reyal openly, he could still guide him indirectly. He began offering Reyal advice in moments of challenge or doubt, words that seemed simple at first but carried deeper meanings—a lesson in the Force hidden beneath practical guidance. To Reyal, it felt like nothing more than Barro’s encouragement, but over time it sharpened his instincts and planted the seeds of understanding.

When Order 66 came, that training—quiet, subtle, and unacknowledged—saved Reyal’s life. The clones turned on Barro without hesitation, but Reyal, neither Jedi nor Padawan, was overlooked in the chaos. Barro, gravely wounded, gave the boy one final lesson in his dying breath. Reyal fled into the wilderness, his heart heavy with grief and confusion, carrying Barro’s cryptic last words as both a comfort and a curse.

For years, Reyal lived as a hermit, retreating deep into Iridonia’s untamed wilds. He built a simple cottage where he could remain unseen, hunting to survive and occasionally trading pelts or scavenged materials in distant towns for supplies. He avoided cities, stayed far from the Empire, and kept his head low. In his isolation, the Force stirred faintly within him, a quiet presence he neither understood nor trusted.

But Iridonia is not a place for complacency, and neither is the galaxy. The wilderness may have hidden Reyal for now, but the Force has its own plans. The galaxy’s turmoil is growing, and Reyal’s quiet life will not last much longer. Whispers of his presence have begun to surface, and the shadow of destiny looms closer. Reyal Parhelon is about to be called back into a galaxy he thought he’d escaped—whether he’s ready or not.

Reyal, currently, has no real motivation, mostly just living day-to-day. One could say he is searching for a motivation.

Moral Strength - Independence.
Moral Weakness - Arrogance.
Morality - 50.

Reyal is resourceful, having survived most of his life on his own in the Iridonian wilds, but when he feels things are going to slow he may sneak off to try and handle things on his own, which can land him in trouble.

Reyal Parhelon appears unassuming for a Zabrak, his features blending seamlessly with the rugged wilderness he calls home. A modest crown of small horns circles his head, framing tan skin that has been weathered by years under Iridonia’s harsh sun. His bright blue eyes, striking against his muted complexion, hold a quiet intensity—a testament to his life of vigilance. Dark, geometric tattoos frame his eyes and extend across his chin and cheeks, with thin lines running along his temples and forehead, marking him with traditional patterns that hint at a heritage he rarely speaks of.

His clothing reflects his resourceful and practical nature. He typically wears a mix of hand-stitched garments made from animal pelts and heavy, inexpensive clothing purchased in Torank City, the nearest settlement. Among his few prized possessions is a durable tan jacket made of superdense fabric, a purchase from a particularly brutal winter that now serves as both armor and insulation.

Reyal is rarely seen without his well-worn backpack, which carries his essential tools and supplies, and his trusted rifle, secured in a holster strapped to the pack’s side. His survival knife, a solid-handle blade with a compartment in the grip containing emergency supplies, is always within reach—clipped to his belt or tucked into a strap on his backpack when he’s wearing lighter clothing. Should he one day acquire a lightsaber, Reyal would likely give it the same practicality, replacing the knife’s usual spot on his belt and sliding the blade into a boot for safekeeping.