My people have long memories, memories as long and as old as the Wroshyr trees in which we make our homes.
I was born deep in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk, my planet, born amidst the hunters and the stalkers of the prey that crawled through the forest floor. I was born beneath the tree and with the mark of the blade upon my brow. The shamans and the bone casters of my tribe told my father that this was a good omen, and I received his blessing; without it, I would have been left to die. I am a Wookiee; we are strong from birth, and we always shall be. Strong as the iron hard wood we use to build our cities and our buildings! As mighty as the Wroshyr trees that rise above the forest! As dangerous as the Shadowlands, above which we build our homes! That is the Wookiee way. That is the way I was born to follow, by right of heritage and species. I was born into one of the deep forest tribes, a clan that needed to fight for to survive against other tribes and the creatures of the forest below. The Shadowlands are like a Wookiee; for all their meagre regimentation, they are wild, untamed, dangerous. I was born into a house of war, a house in which war was decided and strength was expected. This is the Wookiee way. This is the way of my clan. This is my way.
And all through my life I have and shall abide by it.
There are those tribes in the Shadowlands that rove, that move like the kinrath that infest the forest below, that we train ourselves on whenever we wish. These tribes have little honour, little respect for the places they and their ancestors carved out of the living, breathing forest itself. The marauders that raided and attacked us from neighbouring territories or by moving we fought and we killed, we repulsed and we battled, we broke and we shattered. I was eight the first time my father placed a bowcaster in my hands and took me to the forest floor of the Shadowlands below, to kill the katarns and kinrath that cover the forest floor. I killed a katarn that day. My father and I were set upon, as we undoubtedly knew we would be, by katarns. I killed one that day, the spirit of the great Bacca who lives on in us all guiding my finger on the trigger of the bowcaster, guiding my bolt to strike and kill the katarn even as it leapt to clench it's jaws about me. I felt pride, honour and strength course through my veins for the first time, then, the feel of the hunt as I was welcomed by my tribe into the tribe as a young warrior.
And now I am no longer young.
I learnt the different tools of the warrior from then, the vibroblade and the blaster amongst others. Many trips recurred for me into the Shadowlands, both with my father and with the larger hunting groups that often went out to gain food and yet also honour for the tribe. At the time of my twenty-fifth year I was initiated into the clan as a fully fledged adult warrior, to accompany the other members in our raids as we fought to expand our borders. Our growing populace needed food, home and resources, and I fought with the other members of my tribe for glory, for land and for honour amongst my brethren, amongst my brothers. We were growing, and those who refused to allow us to do so would be forced to step aside. And then we gorged on the land we had taken and grew fat on it, extending our supremacy over increased territories as we no longer needed more land. And then we had peace. For some considerable time, our tribe knew something it hadn't known for years, generations even. Peace. The word in itself conjures up disparaging thoughts and feelings for a Wookiee, yet we had earnt it. We had earnt the right to remain in peace for some years, at least.
But none of us wished to spend the rest of our lives with no honour to be gained.
Trandosha is a planet we have always hated; the Trandoshans and the Wookiees hate each other with a vehemence that has gone back generations. When a plague hit the planet of Trandosha, the Trandoshans attacked Kashyyyk in a mass exodus that saw them take to the Shadowlands and strike at our tribes. Negotiations started, at first, yet they broke down; we would not have their scum infesting our planet! We drove them off our planet, then. They were not prepared for the ferocity of the Shadowlands nor the might of our warriors, and despite the long, bloody battles that raged across our planet, we were victorious. I led many, many Wookiees for my tribe against the Trandoshans, and the lizard kind were driven away. They bled long and painfully, and the Wookiee species banded together to bask in it as we have not done before! I distinguished myself in that conflict, and I rose to the position of a member of the High Council of my tribe. I had brought pride and honour to the members of my family and my clan, and this was a glorious moment for myself and my family, for all we stood for and for the clan as a whole. The Trandoshans had been driven off our planet.
And Kashyyyk was strong.
Yet the victory came at a price. Many had died, including my own father. I wanted revenge, I yearned for it, lusted for it, as is the Wookiee way. I set out from my clan, who refused to allow me to take troops to attack Dosha itself, although many wished to follow me. I travelled to the larger tribes, and still they too denied my request. I could do nothing alone. I left Kashyyyk, then, travelling to the planet of Kalist IV and then the galactic core as the prodigal son of the Har'Fani tribe. I first plied my trade as a bounty hunter, before I encountered Dewbecca, now Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, on Kashyyyk. I discovered my own Force sensitivity too, then, and set out to join the Shade Order, those who tread the fine line between the light and the dark. I passed my training. I am now a Shade Knight, prodigal son of the Har'Fani and he who treads the path between the light and the dark. I trained under Belyael Oderyn and now I shall train those of my own. I am Solbacca.
This is my way.
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