"Death isn't some great god to worship, and it's not some tragedy to fear. It's a beast, plain and simple. And the Handler hasn't quite tamed it, but they've obviously reached an understanding." -Rotzkha, speaking to other bar patrons while drunk.
Rotzkha was born Adrian Farad on Nar Shaddaa. Orphaned at three years old, his only real family growing up was a street gang of 8 other homeless children. As the gang barely survived through theft and other petty crimes, Adrian became enamored by tales of bounty hunters who led rich and extravagant lives.
Gang Life, Gang Death
Death's Touch Gang
He convinced his gang to come with him on his quest to become a rich and famous bounty hunter, and they began working freelance for anyone they could find. While most of the group enjoyed the improved living conditions, Adrian decided he loved it for the challenge. Taking on harder and harder contracts, they nevertheless were met with success a large portion of the time, and they lived well as the Death's Touch Gang.
Adrian, however, was not satisfied. He needed to push his limits, test them further, and find out exactly how far he could go. His friends became concerned with this trend, but they were family to each other and so they supported him and followed his lead. Gaining fame and money, they were able to buy some of the best hunting gear the galaxy had to offer: stronger and more accurate blasters, thicker armor, cortosis-lined vibroblades, powerful thruster packs, etc.
Eventually, they reached a level of notoriety that had customers coming to them; so no one questioned it when a hooded man with bright white eyes and the scars of a former slave came to their typical bar looking to hire them. The pay he offered was beyond their imaginations, and he said this was because the bounty was potentially the most dangerous one in the galaxy.
Adrian was entranced at the idea of the bounty, while the others were entranced by the number of digits in the payment. Everyone was for it.
Right from the start of the job, they were in immense danger. Their target was a high-ranking member of a rival Sith Empire called the "Sith Imperium"; any force that could challenge the established Sith and avoid destruction by the Republic was not a force to be trifled with. Death's Touch had little information on target himself, save for the fact that he wore a white mask with gold trim, and would likely be in a meditation chair on the bridge of his own personal flagship, the "Broken Cycle".
That raised their general anxiety; this individual was not just part of a new and powerful galactic presence, he was highly placed enough to have his own capital ship. Sneaking on to the Broken Cycle by stowing away on a maintenance shuttle, the Death's Touch made it halfway to the bridge before being discovered. They continued on, now relying on their aim rather than their stealth.
They battled for hours, moving up towards the command deck inch by inch and felling scores of troopers. Finally reaching the door to the bridge (which appeared abandoned save for a man matching the description of the target, their advance was brought to a halt when their employer himself challenged them with a lightsaber.
This battle was far faster, more difficult, and more deadly; while the Imperium troopers had given the Death's Touch little more than minor injuries while dying by the dozens, this apparent Sith spun and dodged and blocked every hit and shot, sometimes before the hunters knew they were going to strike. Slowly, one by one, Adrian's comrades and family fell to the blade of the white-eyed man; and each one who died was encompassed by bright purple lightning and turned to dust.
Adrian went berserk, flailing and striking at the white-eyed man with his vibroblade in a barrage so furious, even his precog opponent had trouble keeping up. They dueled for some time before Adrian was thrown back and pinned by the Force, and his opponent speared him through the gut.
At this point, Adrian was not worried about death. Everyone he'd cared about had just been slain and turned to ashes before his eyes, and he welcomed an end to his pain. His opponent, however, backed away from his fallen foe and kneeled. Adrian turned to see the hoverchair and its occupant floating towards him.
Immediately he pulled out a hold-out blaster from a concealed holster and began firing at the man who had been his target, hoping to at least finish his job before death claimed him. But the blaster bolts seemed to either be absorbed by the man's body or to bounce off of it. Bitter, angry, and somewhat confused, Adrian closed his eyes and allowed his consciousness to slip away.
Adrian awoke in a cold, dank chamber on a raised, slanted slab in what appeared to be a tomb. His last target sat in a small metal chair ill-suited to his large frame, watching him. The man introduced himself as Makhzor, and informed Adrian that this had been an initiation of sorts. Makhzor had heard of the Death's Touch Gang's fierce leader and became interested in his services after careful observation.
The deaths of Adrian's partners had fueled a ritual that both suspended Adrian between life and death and placed him firmly under Makhzor's control. As such, Makhzor renamed him to suit his new role: Rotzkha B'Makhzor, Assassin of the Cycle. Rotzkha now calls Makhzor "The Handler", likening him to one who directs a bounty hunter.
Appearance Before and After "The Bounty"
Before "The Bounty", Adrian was an attractive-enough man, with very long red hair and a somewhat unnatural shade of orange in his eyes. He had a medium, tough build and wore tribal facepaint when he hunted.
After, his face and body were far thinner. His hair and skin became a pale white. To reflect his new unique status (as a method of bitter mockery), he removed his facepaint and replaced it with skeletal tattoos.
Personality (After "The Bounty")
Rotzkha was essentially a dead man. Though he could be harmed, he was kept from serious damage by Makhzor; when given the opportunity, however, he relished every new wound. He was sado-masochistic, bitter, and fearless because he had literally nothing, not even life, to lose. As he was a servant of Makhzor, he was forced to share Makhzor's loyalties. Therefore, he served the Imperium (though only when ordered to), and was prevented by his bond from acting against Imperium interests. When most people asked him for favors that were not paramount to Imperium safety, he would only do them for the proper amount of credits.
The credits, of course, he spent immediately on alcohol and gambling.
When Makhzor split himself and scattered his shards across the multiverse, his servants were immediately released from his command. For most, this was a tragedy. Bahr've'ahz, for instance, was not ready to control his Sight on his own yet, and fled the Imperium's loud territories in favor of an uninhabited jungle on Rishi.
Rotzkha, however, felt as though he had finally been freed. As per usual, he had been drinking the day away in a bar on Hutta while waiting for his next job or mission. Feeling Makhzor's shackles released from his mind and body, he down his glass of ale and began cackling wildly before he and his equipment turned to dust.