Vilaz MuninMember Since 29 Jul 2014
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Posted by Vilaz Munin on 26 August 2019 - 01:47 AM
Enemies: Not my Mandos
Tag: Gilamar Skirata
He sometimes view the battle with a religious eye. The transportation of troops from the stars to the earth was one scenario where he saw if those were righteous enough to break through the atmosphere. All was based by judgement of the gods, or so Vilaz thought. If they deemed a warrior worthy enough to fight on terrain, they would give them safe passage until they had reached the battlefield. Otherwise they would not grant them their blessings and have them blown into the cold void of space. The Warlord personally thought that maybe he wasn’t worthy enough to survive the bombs in space considering what he was about to do and not wanting to undo that decision. Surely this heretical behavior was enough for a turbolaser to strike him and atomize his body into pieces; however, no harm would come near him during his trek to Mandalore. Ironic that the gods deemed him worthy for combat despite the war he had brought to their homeland.
Or perhaps they were drunk, paying little attention to the current events.
Many either shared the blessing he received or the demise of the patrons of war and luck. Such were the ways of modern warfare as usual.
Parjai and her rider reached Mandalore’s atmosphere and then broke through. Vilaz was unscathed from entering the atmosphere and so did his war droid as it was designed for situations such as these when reentering. The Mandalorian continued to dive at great velocity for New Keldabe with his army following him. His scanners began to pick up any hostile tags to be eliminated, and one in particular caught his attention.
”That fething old man,” he muttered to himself with temper in his voice.
”Continue for the city and conquer it, do not worry for me. I want nothing but efficient coordination from y’all without my presence.” And with or without Vilaz the other commanders of his Clan knew how to work eloquently without the matter of pride ruining their organization. That sin was something kept in check amongst his clansmen, although it could be used as tool at times.
Vilaz moved like a frenzy to find him. A man that he had respect for, but lost after the man showed how regressive his choices were; symbolizing how out of touch he was with evolution of the Galaxy, fighting against those changes. Like a salmon fighting the current only to be preyed on by a bear for their lack of vision.
”GIL!” with a mighty roar escaping from his lungs and Parjai intending to ram into Gilamar’s own bes’uliik, but not engage with it in close quarters. There was a Sith entangled in this engagement, and frankly Vilaz did not care for his life. Yes, he had come to conquer Mandalore, but he was free to operate at his own will. Another Sith would replace him if he were to die.
”A shame to see that bounty hunter didn’t kill you, but at least he gave you something to remember me by.”
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 22 August 2019 - 11:21 AM
Enemies: Not my Mandos
Tags: Gilamar Skirata
The corridors of the Kote, Vilaz’s Mythosaur dreadnought given to him in the times of Ra’s rise to power, were decorated by warriors clad in crimson armor. The color red in his culture when applied to armor symbolized honoring a parent, and while many of them had parents to honor that symbol held no value amongst them. It only meant war and the blood to be spilled; the clanging of metal; and the bones to be crushed. He once was Akaan for the Mandalorians, and his clan was honorably named as the Vanguard of the Clans. They were always the first ones to enter battle and the last ones to retreat from it. Always they’d paint in red, seeing themselves as the heralds of war to their enemies with Vilaz leading his disciples.
Though it was rather unfortunate that they’d bring the war to Mandalore with the Sith at their side.
Forgive us...or rather forgive them
He had not known if his actions would spit insult on the great forerunners of his culture and other great warriors that have stepped foot into the Galaxy. Never in his life would he imagine participating in an event like this. But what else could he have done? The Empire of the Infernal had tossed away tradition ever since the Red Coronation. Her subjects praised her as a god whole forgetting the codes of their people that had been established for millennials. A stone would understand more than those subjects of her.
The young warriors in his ranks were excited and very enthused about today. They’d see Mandalore liberated from Yasha’s grip; however, Vilaz knew the consequences of the battle today and perhaps others that have breathed as much as he did.
”Alor, I’ve just been in contact with the Sith. Everyone and their mothers are heading towards Sundari, will we join them?”
The great desert of Sundari, not only was it host to the disastrous government of the New Mandalorians during the Clone Wars, but also was the spark of Ra’s crusades. Where he was gifted the axe he carried in his hand.
”No, they can maintain themselves without us. If so, they wouldn’t claim their armies to be grand soldiers of the ‘verse. We will head to Keldabe, have the men ready before planetfall.”
The order was acknowledged and the officer proceeded in giving orders to unit commanders. Warriors would ready their equipment before boarding up dropships and other shuttles of transportation. Vilaz would not join them in those vessels. He had his own method.
Seconds later a besalisk war droid came before him in the hangar bay, heeding the call of its master. She had served him for many years dating back even before Ra.
”We’re coming home.”
And proceeded to mount himself on the behemoth droid. Reports came to him that the Sith fleet had broken through Mandalore’s shield gate with Imperial Legionnaires now rushing for the surface. That was their signal to also rush for Mandalore’s earth. And so shuttles and dropships would fly out being escorted by fighters. Vilaz leading them on his war droid while evading battery fire from capital ships and the armament of hostile fighters.
Only moments before the cries of war would reach Mandalore.
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 21 August 2019 - 12:48 AM
Life worked in mysterious ways.
A king, reigning from many great monarchs before him, would think of himself untouchable in a castle all protected from the sworn soldiers at his disposal; only to be usurped and beheaded by the very subjects he thought he held unyielding power over. What about a man, born from dirty and shown no mercy by the world, fighting for survival with only to come and have the world at the palm of his hand. Another fine example would be a warrior that rose through the ranks of his people, earning the respect and acknowledgement of his comrades. Trusted with leading battalions and help to build the great nation they shared so that their future generations would be secured and continue to build the legacy of their ancestors. Patriotic was that man, zealously prideful; however, it would only turn into bitterness when he had realized what he fought for would turn into something despicable. A deformed beast that was worshipped. Never had that warrior thought he’d raise his own sword against his culture and home. Painful, yet necessary in order for salvation.
A small story that reflected on Vilaz.
He say quiet, not paying attention to his surroundings as he stared at an object before him. An axe carved out from the bone of a Mythosaur, decorated with the most finest rubies that were mined from the caverns of Mandalore. A gift to him by another warrior he proudly served as one his most trusted warlords. The rubies casted a vibrant red at the Concordian, almost to the color of blood. So many emotions and thoughts dwelled upon his mind in the matter of minutes. He tried casting them away, only wanting to remember the past the axe brought to him and his people. Prosperous times with crusades, Mandalore and her children finally returning to their roots that caused them to exist and known in the first place. Though as the saying goes...nothing gold ever lasts.
The axe was well tuned and maintained, not a scratch tainted the beautiful craftsmanship of the weapon. That was because it has never seen combat...until today that is.
”Alor, you seem disturbed,” a Munin warrior of Besalisk heritage came, one that stood high in the ranks of the clan.
A moment passed
”Is it worth it, Krile? All this?” he replied back, coming back to reality after gazing into the axe.
”I’m confused, Vilaz. This is what you have wanted...what we have wanted. A hammer into the pillars of the Infernal’s Empire and create something outta the fire.”
”At what cost though? A deal with the devil in order to accomplish our goals and start what we have dreamed of?”
”It’s like you’ve said it yourself. A price to pay for salvation.”
Salvation...salvation for his culture that had been dragged through the mud, humiliated by other nations across the Galaxy. Instead of conquerors they were known as benevolent diplomats, sharing the wealth to others. Yet when have others shown Mandalore benevolence? Never.
”We will survive; we always have. This isn’t the end for us, we’re tougher than beskar.”
A few seconds passed until the Warlord stood up from his seat and walked towards the hangar bay of the flagship of his own personal fleet.
And he was out set to bring war to Mandalore with his crimson armor and axe. They would remember him as Akaan.
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 14 July 2019 - 02:28 PM
Allies: CIC | Ves Fett | Keira Priest
Enemies: UCM | Kaine Australis
Objective: Simple destruction
He remained a steady rhythm in his breathing, thinking in the battle nearing him. His heart and stomach raged for blood, demanded for his hands to be further dirtied in sealing the fates of others; however, this was unlike killing random aruetiise on raids he conducted. No...this was in the sense of wanting justice, justice, and redemption. He once championed Cadera when she was little, offering his aid and wisdom yet she spat at it on the day of the Red Coronation. He had some fault in encouraging the pup in taking the mantle, though he didn’t imagine it she would alter her body in the developed shape of a woman in order to claim it. She was simply a pawn of the sloth god and the trickster god that his people knew of, and dreaded of their influence in their daily lives. Everyday she hacked the honor and pride of his culture, even though he wasn’t affiliated with the tainted Mandalorian Empire; however, some people no longer respected and feared the symbol of that T shape that was the visor of his and every other Mandalorians’ helmet to their armor. All that helmet was associated with was licking the boots of the Jedi and other foreigners.
There would be no prisoners today, all would have their heads detached from their shoulders. Those who pledged their loyalty to the Empire and the Mand’alor were tainted souls, all belonging to hell. Vilaz would pray that none of these Imperial Mandalorians would ever see the paradise of the Manda. They had allowed themselves to sell their souls and lives to a girl that only made mother Mandalore look like a fool, and Mandalore and her colonies would be cleansed from the sins and damnation of these heretics...with the blood of Cadera’s soldiers.
”Very ignorant of you to call these...warriors fierce, Fett. I did not expect a Fett to acknowledge false qualities of these pups before us,” the Warlord said to Ves in a calm tone of voice. If in his youth, there would have been some fire in his retort. Now he had aged and while he was Morellian in his blood, thus allowing him live more years than the average human and still retain his strength and reflexes, his mind was that of an old adult seeing much bloodshed. He cared little for jokes nowadays, finding it needless to retort back with dialogue. Much rather bite before talk.
He wishes to not entertain the Fett with anymore words, or with Keira. He cared little of rivalries or passive doubts at the very moment. He was here to make a statement and right the wrongs of his culture.
”We will go wherever a fight there is. There are no objectives except slaughtering the livestock before us. I don’t care if we end up leveling a city or scorch the earth. We’ll win with convenient, efficient tactics.”
Cold and dead was his tone of voice showing his indifference to the people inhabiting this world of knowledge. If he killed a child that belonged to the Mandalorian Empire, he would not show a hint of remorse. He promised to wipe them all out, and so he would strike down with great vengeance and furious anger.
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 16 June 2019 - 02:50 PM
They soon came across a public terminal after their hike, now entering the city limits. Hopefully no one was around these parts, if not, then it would be a misfortune for those that came across the couple.
”Go ahead, Bree...I’ll take watch,” the warrior said, relying on the complex system of his helmet to scan anyone nearby their position. While he was mainly the muscle and brawn between the two, his wife picked up where he lacked in with technical skills she alone taught herself. She was a great doctor, and adept pilot and slicer...and a terrific cook. She could fight with spirit and strength as the couple had sparred with each other with most of those sessions being derailed into other events.
”Some activity going on, but I think you have enough time. Don’t risk too much on it, ner cyare.”
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 15 June 2019 - 10:21 AM
Allies: Mandalorians and Thyrsians
Enemies: Everyone Else
Run from it
It is inevitable…
...just like the blood that will drown Eshan
He has shied away from his duty and destiny for far too long. He didn’t find any sense of satisfaction during these times in his life, not even the bloody raids he conducted amongst the stars could make him content. The Warlord has fallen under a curse of depression, finding something that would fill the void inside him. His family were able to treat it, but it wasn’t enough. What could it be that drew Vilaz into such a pit of desperation and despair? It wasn’t wealth as he cared little for credits and other material value. Lack of fame as either a hated or admired warrior didn’t bother him, not giving a damn if he was reputable though it was an excellent tool to utilize in situations.
It was none of that.
But rather at the state of damnation his culture had fallen. The Warlord made sure his own clan would not succumb as degenerates, degenerates that the Mandalorians of the Empire had come to be. What was thought to be a blessing by Kad Har’angir, the Mandalorian god of war and destruction, to bring back the Undying from the realm of the dead and lead the children of Mandalore to triumph in a new era. Unfortunately that era shortly desisted as it was born when Ra vanished, the winds taking him into the unknown once again. He came in Mandalore’s time of need, but couldn’t keep that fire alive. No doubt did the trickster god and the sloth god made a pact together and orchestrated another plague to consume Mandalore, not letting her see and feel the glory she deserves. Glory she knew ages ago, now only a memory to serve her as company in these dark, hopeless times. A plague that went by the name of “Cadera”. Other names were responsible too, but that was its main roots.
Vilaz had thought that perhaps Mandalore would rid itself of these rodents with time and patience...but he was only a fool to believe that and allowed all this time to be wasted, and not used in some way to help his mother. He had turned his back for far too long and that would change. Things needed to change, otherwise future generations would come to know a nation full of deceit and lies that they themselves would worship, bolstering that facade.
But now he knew what he must do.
Umbara was only the spark…
...Eshan would be the first tree to burn in the forest, spreading its influence.
The Warlord stood upon the earth of Eshan. He could tell the land of the Echani was still licking its wounds, something that brought a smirk to his face. While he did helped the Confederacy to liberate Eshan from the Empire it did appease him the collateral damage caused to the planet and its inhabitants. He came as a liberator on that day; today, however, he would come as a conqueror and make sure the fires of purgatory would rise again and wash over the earth. Make sure that the blood of the Echani would forever stain the evergreen hills and plains of this planet that had always disgusted him. For many generations described in the texts of history by their ancestors and then continued by their predecessors, the Mandalorians has made their fair share of rivalries with other groups. The Echani, the Thyrsians, the Iridonians, the Jedi and their precious Republic, and others of different cultures and ideals. Vilaz respected the Thyrsians from that list or rivals, and perhaps the Iridonians. Some enemies or rivals of one’s people deserved that merit; however, he absolutely abhorred the Echani and the Jedi, equally to the Imperial Mandalorians of Yasha’s regime.
It would be unfortunate that Clan Munin would not be acknowledged as the merciless marauders that would carve an unforgettable scar into the hearts of the Echani. Rather it would be Clan Cadera and a variety of other clans affiliated with the Mandalorian Empire that would cause another calamity on Eshan. Vilaz was one that didn’t mind the vile actions of his clan be known to the public on the Holonet. Matter of fact, he’d love to take the credit of today’s events, but he couldn’t. It was all for a worthy cause...a cause that would hopefully make true for what he desired for. He knew there were tensions between the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Mandalorian Empire after his participation of liberating Eshan. The coward lapdogs of the Empire even went out to lie and try to twist history in their favor. It was pathetic coming from a group of warriors that claim to be mighty, yet went out of their way to appease the Galaxy and win their hearts. It was a mere translation to licking the boots of aruetiise, something that made his stomach turn. He was sure the great ancestors of his culture, no matter their clan, were rolling in their tombs and yelling curses at the Empire from the Manda. A depressing sight to behold with few honoring their roots that have been forged many, many centuries ago.
But no more would his culture be tarnished by a foolish girl, trapped in the body of a mature woman.
Oh, what did Ra see in that...thing
And here, they would break bone and tear flesh. They would do anything to make the Confederacy be influenced with intense feelings, emotions that would act out against the Empire. And if the coward of the Infernal would not claim these pillages as her doing, they would not believe her after the lies they mouthed at Eshan along with its collateral damage. Or at least that is what the Munin’s gut believed and was gambling on. It all depended on how the Confederacy would react to these recent operations. He’d hope they would see this as an act of vengeance after the Empire’s humiliating defeat on the planet he stood upon.
Droz and Zann dealt with the hostages, killing all except one. They honored their word and Vilaz could only hold a villainous grin of their actions. For now this was all that there was from the raiding party on Umbara. Reinforcements would arrive soon with a collective task force comprised of his clan and those of similar ideas as him. There were Confederate forces looming around the Eshan system with their own fleet above orbit and barracks established in order to give protection to the white mutts. Attacking their assets would add more fire into the kindle.
“Warriors,” he said aloud for his clansmen to hear, “we will leave no stone unturned and no land left in green. The Confederacy and the filthy Echani will know of our vengeance and hatred since Eshan.”
“For Mandalore and the Infernal!”
Briika Munin Khonsu Amon Droz Munin Zann Munin Kad Munin Fylla Munin Coren Starchaser @Cotan Sar’andor Ador Horn Keira Priest Ves Fett Errai Munin Careena Fett Karsan Calnov Esvan Verd Hana Munin Faust Skirata Muad Dib
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 29 May 2019 - 12:41 AM
"But it seems the gods have favored the way I fight, cyar'ika," the Warlord said in a light tone before continuing, "but I wouldn't mind being in the sun so long as you're around."
A nice note to end on the quips with that last part to give sensual thoughts to the Tor-Munin. Blissful intimate thoughts.
"From what I know this scientist is a redeemed Arkanian that is ranked high above the staff and personnel at Adascorp which is an Arkanian company that prides themselves in bioengineering and other genetic operations. His name is Karkal Contuth. When we get nearby a terminal we can find out more on the locations he normally works at."
The two warriors continued to trek through the former snow and cold of Arkania’s capital as they almost leaving the mountains and nearing the city. They had the equipment to hide from scanners, but that wouldn’t give him too much confidence in just walking by with ease. A skilled warrior he was, but alone he couldn’t fight a great city like Adascopolis. Legends and myths were one thing, facing actual reality was another.
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 19 May 2019 - 11:14 PM
There had been many things Vilaz wondered to himself throughout the days. What to pillage next? How long until his people would redeem themselves? How much longer could he fight? What age will he be before laying on his bed rest? Where did he came from? The latter was something that intrigued him more than questions of his future. He has little or no knowledge of his biological pedigree, leaving him with no answers of what legacy he carried from his lineage. Though throughout the years he started his own legacy, a child that followed a life of crime in the lawless plains of Concord Dawn would become a renowned warrior that was either admired or hated. He began to focus more on expanding his clan, providing for his family, and plundering worlds to live the traditions of the old Mandalorians. Little did he care about where he came from.
Recently he began his own research of trying to discover his bloodline, wanting to know more what mysteries his own genetic structure kept that remained untouched for many years. A problem was that he was no scientist nor where there any clansmen adept in that degree of genetics. The only advice he was given to answer these questions was to consult with an Arkanian or Kaminoan. The latter was an option that Vilaz would not consider taking as he had no desire to deal with the insufferable Confederacy nor near its territory. The former would have to do, though it wouldn't be simple as he'd liked it to be. The planet belonged to a now defunct New Republic, but just because the newly failed Republic lost authority didn't mean the planet was without a military presence. Perhaps some Republic general or admiral took advantage and made Arkania its bastion of power with their own sense of authority. Or maybe the Arkanians did so in a similar manner.
Didn't matter, all the Warlord knew was what he must do and how to properly do so. The Munin did not plan to schedule an appointment with an esteemed scientist and wait. No, he would see one in his own fashion of doing it.
And he wouldn't be alone.
"How are your bones, ni ruug'la dala," the warrior said to his beloved wife once they had left their ship, in which was cloaked to avoid being detected, and entered the harsh cold of Arkania. Of course, they wouldn't have to suffer that as their armor would warm their bodies properly. "Remember, we have to avoid being seen as much as we can. Pick our battles wisely that way we can get what we came here for quickly."
Was this course of action radical? Why, yes it was. They were Mandalorians. Everything they ever do was considered radical.
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 18 May 2019 - 09:27 AM
The near perfection of silence was broken as the couple with the Imperial escort were introduced to a Voss seer clothed in robes that reflected on his occupation. The mystic spoke their names, but what intrigued Vilaz was the Voss speaking the name of his father. The Mandalorian had no knowledge of his biological ancestry, and so it surprised him this seer knew his name. But of course the Force was used to know this information. What else could this seer know of his lineage?
”Reprieve?” The Mandalorian simply asked, adding no other words to his dialogue. Was Vilaz frustrated? Plenty, in fact that was an understatement. He had adapted to his new style of life in exile and was happy with the outcome of it, but he couldn’t deny that he was angry with the occurring events of Cadera’s degenerate Mandalorians in her Empire, and how they represented his culture. And what they represented was how weak they were, wanting to conform with others. They said they did not kneel, but all he saw was the opposite of what they said to be. Something that didn’t define Vilaz.
Briika Munin Darth Carnifex
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 16 May 2019 - 06:07 PM
And he would not stop her or persuade in reconsidering in staying as it would be futile.
”Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar,” the warrior said after kissing back his beloved. He’d then placed his war helmet over his head, holstering two heavy blaster pistols and sheathing a beskad. Nothing too heavy, then again his armor was a walking weapon.
”Let’s hope this ain’t a waste of our time,” he said over in their comms, the married couple walking out to the landing pad. There were the Crownguard of the Emperor, standing with discipline. They would aboard the shuttle before being taken to the Super Star Destroyer. Hopefully things wouldn’t turn sour, best for the two parties.
Briika Munin Darth Carnifex
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 16 May 2019 - 12:33 PM
Location: Umbaran Capital City
"This is only the beginning, Starchaser. Soon many worlds will be scorched with the flag of our Mand'alor flying over the corpses," the Warrior said calmly, noticing Coren able to dodge the slugs with aid from the Force. Seconds later the other Jedi whipped out his pistol, firing a barrage of blaster bolts. One struck against his thigh plate and another in his core plate. The beskar plates fused with other enhancements would dissuade a majority of the damage, yet some kinetic energy after being struck would still apply. Minor bruises would develop, something he was familiar with and his body was conditioned, from many battles, to not be alert. Nothing too critical yet.
Both men had their lightsabers out and were approaching in a defensive stance, likely to deflect any incoming fire. And fire they will receive, they were in close range yet in order for Vilaz to tear them down.
More slugs were fired at the Jedi, switching back and forth from targets. Once the clip was empty on slugs, he'd alternate in using the blaster ammo in his rifle as it was dual-versatile firearm that can fire both blasters and slugs. They would have to approach unless they would want more energy projectiles being shot at them from the distance. He absolutely wanted them to close the gap, make them think they had the advantage over him in close quarters. That would be the moment for the snake to strike.
Meanwhile several stealth vessels from the Vilaz's fleet would come from the hangars, stealth systems online to mask their appearances. Not only could they hide from scanners, but they could also bypass shielding and the gate shield above Umbara was no exception to that. They had already sent their message in blood and now needed evacuation, otherwise this whole operation would be pointless if continued further.
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 15 May 2019 - 04:15 PM
The Warlord, too, was irritated with the events of today. Not only was he requested to aboard the Behemoth, but also his wife. Something that would not go unnoticed by him and taken with caution. Loyal he may be in a degree as he and Carnifex were business associates, but he was not some Imperial grunt that kneeled down to him. He was his own master.
”I...I don’t know, Bree, I wish I could give you an answer, but I don’t. I’m trying to figure that out as well. Just trust in me, I’ll see what the Dark Lord wants and get him outta here as fast as I can.”
His hands gently held Bree’s shoulders and slowly descended down to reach for her hands, trying to calm her.
”You don’t have to go, cyar’ika. You can stay with our ade while I figure out what Zambrano wants. We are mercenaries, but we’re not loyalist and I don’t appreciate people demanding me to bring my wife to summonings. We're certainly not the landuur people of Cadera’s empire that lick the boots of aruetiise, something that our...guest seems to forget.”
Briika Munin Darth Carnifex
Posted by Vilaz Munin on 15 May 2019 - 01:59 AM
All just speculation from the Munin, but he'd tune that down a notch or two.
The man walked towards Lynda, before letting it out on her.
”Who in the hell said you could speak, you fething cherry huh?! Talking high and mighty like you own this place, I bet my shebs that you got a damn smug look on your face full of pride behind that helmet. Well I got news for you; ether change it or I’ll make sure to replace your mouth with an Aqualish’s.”
In fact, he’d be doing her a favor with a sudden backhanded slap with his gauntlet. That should be a lesson for all the other cadets. A lesson that Vilaz would be difficult for them. He planned on pushing them to the brink of wanting to kill him. He’d be surprised if someone didn’t try to use excessive force on him during these next few weeks. At the end, they’d turn out in elite soldiers that was worth every credit the Confederation was throwing at him.
Lynda Dorn ST-00/0666 Lannik Hayes CT-94194