Can You Show Me? [ Mandalorian Knights ]

[Darth Metus]

M Y G E E T O​

It would be strange of a man to find comfort in such a place. Odd, for the smell of ash to settle the thundering heart. Perplexing, for the hum of machina to calm raging nerves. Yet, despite how strange it might have been, Isley felt relief here. Standing in the thriving heart of the War Forge had affirmed many things for the Mand'alor; and simultaneously eliminated a mountain of doubt. In the beginning, he wondered if he had been too ambitious in laying claim to the title — too arrogant in carving out an Empire revolving about the Old Ways.

Yet Mygeeto had smothered those thoughts. Those who gathered together under his banner had proven as much. The battle had been a jarring illustration of the Lost's sordid state. Numerous worlds, countless vode, had been severed from the embrace of their people. Civil war and foreign occupation made a return to Manda'yaim nigh impossible...and that is why Isley fought.

The Empire would reclaim them all.

Now, standing within a thundering monument to their success, Isley's resolve took root. He could show them the way. He would. As Mand'alor, he was akin to a Father: guiding and supporting the growth of his children. And this day, he would take a significantly direct approach. Borne forward by confident strides, Isley made his way over to a space that had been set aside. Numerous work tables formed a neat series of columns on either side of the Mand'alor. Each had been equipped with standard tools of the trade, in addition to an Alchemist Starter Kit. Furthermore, each table was within a stone's throw of power hammers, presses, and other machina used in the creation of weapons and armor.

In brief, this was a fitting learning ground for the Mandalorian Knights. By order of their liege, they had been summoned to muster in this place — charged to learn the ways of crafting armaments through various Force-centric means. Isley had specifically instructed them to come with an idea in mind: an ambition that he could aide them into making reality. He could show them...he would show them, the ways passed down by [member="Rave Merrill"] herself.

 

[Cennika Hawk]

Not more than a few feet away from the Mand'alor was his apprentice, more in the ways not pertaining to life as a Mandalorian - that was well taken care of in her bond with [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] - as a crafter from her mid-childhood, as a witch when she chose to embrace it after running from it for so long. Since being taken away from Myrkr where she had gone into a self-imposed exile for many years, her knowledge of the galaxy, of her heritage as a witch of Dathomir, and of the culture that she had willingly attached herself to had grown by leaps and bounds.

As for Mygeeto... she did not favour it. Had she been spoiled by the lush worlds on which she had set foot in the past year? Perhaps, but favour was smothered by necessity, and it was necessary for her to have come to this place, designated as it was for learning of a forcer's craft that was deemed well-aligned with her existing talents. Given time, she might output beyond her own needs. Given time, that may be her place in this empire. So far one could project, but only so far, but not accurately predict without the talent for it.

Violet orbs shifted to the Verd man, watching a moment while waiting for others to arrive. She was one of few words, and it often felt as if days went by without speaking, between herself and Naimes - such was their understanding of one another - but for others, words were needed, but only when they were necessary. The only thing she might have wondered was from whom did this Mand'alor gain his knowledge, and what did he give in return? Nothing is ever truly free.

[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Titan]

This better be worth the break from working on my armor. But after this I might be able to visit a war forge and smelt my Beskar. Tor thought as he landed seeing Mand'alor before him. Though they said they could teach me how to use my lightsaber. So it can't be all bad. He reasoned. "I'm here Mand'alor, the Empire must prospering. if you're willing to come all the way out here."

 

[Krayzen Dratos]

The Anzat was someone that was interested in Alchemy, wanting to learn all that he can to help him work on his latest project. Dralos had been working on something that would make the non force sensitives that served Mandalore the Reclaimer have the ability to be able to stand up to force sensitives, Dralos, like many people in the galaxy knowing all to well the advantages force sensitives had.

Dralos was amazed to stand at the recently conquered planet of Mygeeto. He was not aware of the history of the planet, other than the fact that it had historically served as a financial hub for the galaxy. Dralos hoped that the recent victory in Mygeeto would lead to a streak of victories, the Mandalorian Empire becoming more powerful as they conquered each planet.

When Dralos arrived, he found [member="Tor Ordo"], and [member="Cennika Hawk"] had arrived before him. Dralos bowed down to the two, then after that, bowed down to [member="Isley Verd"], eager to see what he would learn today, and what he could get out from it.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza had never really given the Mandalorians much thought until she discovered that she actually had Mandalorian blood. As a child she would occasionally entertain the thought of what her father was like, never having gotten the chance to meet the man who had sired her. Never would she have guessed that he would be a smart talking ex-smuggler Mandalorian. To put it lightly, things only got more confusing after meeting [member="Zef Halo"] for the first time.

What an unpleasant place. It took a hefty dose of willpower not to scowl among the smoke and racket of the forge. As used to noise and smog as she was via growing up in an urban area, the fresh air and beautiful scenery of Voss had spoiled her. Though the Zeltron would never admit it, she was here in part because she thought it would please her father. The Mandalorian Empire was important to him, so she should at least give this whole Mando thing a try, right? He certainly wasn’t pleased to learn that she had been trained as a Jetii.

Inhaling shortly to keep the acrid air out of her lungs, green eyes scanned the others who had arrived before her. An Anzat, an armored man, a dark haired woman…and the man she could only assume was the Mand’alor himself. That was the word, right? Mand'alor? “You must be [member="Isley Verd"]. Zef Halo told me about you.” Keeping her words and body language simple, the Zeltron offered a dip of her head to the Master. “I’m Joza, Zef's sp- child. I'm his child.” So far, any sass would be kept at bay. For now…

 

[Darth Metus]

Crash! Crash!

Hiss!

As the War Forge played its cantenkerous symphony, the Mand'alor placed his gaze upon the table he had prepared for himself. Upon it rested a number of ordinary materials — alongside a few extraordinary. Samples of beskar, phrik, and alchemized ingots were arranged beside a rather unremarkable notebook. In addition, shards of Mygeeto's native Nova Crystal and his own Briya'chite laid ready upon a cloth. Yet the heart of the table was the very same material that Isley had intended to teach from: the Alchemist Starter Kit. Reaching out, the Mandalorian took hold of the provided text and flipped it open.

Where to begin was the question of the hour.

At a glance, it made the "most" sense to start at the very beginning. However, Isley was no stranger to the vode. He knew that many had been exposed to the Forge at an early age, whether personally or to simply have beskar'gam erected. As such, he would have to adapt his introduction to best suit those who would come to gather. And gather they did. Whilst his gaze slid over the page, the first wave of learners entered the War Forge. The first was [member="Cennika Hawk"]: a woman who had come to be the Mand'alor's apprentice. For her, entering the belly of a machina beast must have been jarring; as the War Forge was a stark contrasts to the beauty of home. However, for the sake of knowledge, she had come.

And if all went well, she would not leave disappointed. He acknowledged her presence with a nod, before motioning to the front row of stations before him. It was her choice where to stand, but as his personal apprentice, she had earned a seat in the metaphorical "splash zone."

Next to arrive was one that Isley was not personally familiar with. However, his presence here was a clear announcement of intent. He, like the others, had come to learn. "Mygeeto is the fruit of our labors, vod: the site of our first conquest as an Empire. Prosperity is upon us, and I am fortunate enough to be standing in the midst of it."

With that said, the third arrival made his way forward with the same quiet as his apprentice. However, he demonstrated a combination of humility and respect in greeting his fellow learners; in addition to the Mand'alor himself. This was one that Isley recognized as well, from the bowels of Mount Tantiss. In fact, this recognition caused the edges of his mouth to curl. "Welcome, vod."

Last, and certainly not least, was a woman who the Mandalorian had heard only through whispers. During their stay at Atin'yaim, it had come to Isley's attention that [member="Zef Halo"] had busied himself tormenting training a young woman. However, the identity of this particular individual had been a mystery — until now. "His child?" His response came in the form of a half-chuckle. It seemed as though Isley was not the only one whose former escapades had produced young women in the present. "Well I certainly hope what he said did not include a dramatic recounting of the ship." he began, beaming. "Nevertheless, you are most welcome Joza."

Then, the time had arrived for the teaching to begin. The Mand'alor motioned for all those who had mustered to find a station, before issuing a collective address.

"I preface by saying: the Force is a Tool."

"It is no different than any blaster, any saber, or anything in-between. It is not to be blamed for the actions taken by any man — for none among us will execute a blaster because it has taken a life. The Galaxy would have you believe that the good and evil are accurately reflected in the Force; yet this is a lie. A folly."

"And to illustrate this fact, I will show you what Sith and Jedi alike have utilized to create items of immense power."

"Having said this, prior to coming you were instructed to have an idea in mind. A concept that you would like to see crafted into reality. At this time, I'd like for you to picture it in your mind. Be as absolutely detailed as you can. Next, I would like for you to open your mind. If you are able, feel free to guard your secrets; but know that I am not seeking to know what you keep hidden away. I will speak into your thoughts, I will guide you as directly as I can, and in the end you will succeed in bringing your vision to reality."

It was a monumental directive, of that there was no doubt; but it was also the way that Isley had learned from his mentor. On Aza'Zoth, she had spoken directly into his mind. She had shown him to look upon base materials in a way he never thought possible. From that foundation, he built his expertise; and now, so would his Knights.

[member="Joza Perl"] - [member="Dralos"] - [member="Tor Ordo"] - [member="Cennika Hawk"]​

 

[Titan]

When he hears the words "A concept that you would like to see crafted into reality. " Tor immediately thinks of a double bladed war staff capable of ejecting its blades in, and out. With sunken hand grips so that it is harder to disarm the wielder of the weapon.

@[member='Isley Verd'],

 

[Linalia Soft]

Linalia had stood in the shadows during the introductions. She scoped out the crowd that had gathered to learn. Her eyes swept lazily over each person. First she noted the leader of this group. Dressed up as a Mandolorian, she recognized the amount of respect that he demanded and deserved. She had heard his name, [member="Isley Verd"]. It was a name that carried power.

Linalia was a small part of many factions and groups. She did her best to stay out of conflicts between two of them. She would disappear and be forgotten when she needed to be. But today she decided to become an active part of this group of Mandos. There were things she needed to learn and butts she needed to kiss. This guy had one of those butts attached to him.

With the staff she had brought with her in her hand, she stepped up to a station, listening to the words of her teacher, taking them in. Soon, she would have a weapon that not another soul in the galaxy could use except for her. Reaching the table with absolute quiet so as to not attract attention, she flicked open the alchemist's set, pulling out the text included with it. With one had and a lazy eye she began glancing through some of the text, getting an idea of what was ahead.

[member="Cennika Hawk"] | [member="Tor Ordo"] | [member="Dralos"] | [member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Darth Rixas]

It would be wise for Oron to remember, that Mandalorian or not, they all remained vulnerable to something. And the vulnerability of a Vod, despite their armor, training, weapons, all their strength, can be more damning than most- For as their enemies increase, as their conquest spreads, their world grows day by day. And despite individual vulnerabilities, the weakness of all men, was undoubtedly hubris, that vicious poison that would corrode the mind and as act as venom to the blood, a weakness that most figures of the current galaxy seemed to have forgotten as of late.

What is the power of a name? In the days of yore, the power of a name was tantamount- But myth and legend have stripped back such important knowledge, leaving it to pile with dust and indifference in glass cases, gazed upon by mindless onlookers who do not realize the importance of the texts of old. The Mandalorians, although faltered in recent times, have not forgotten. To know a name, a true name, gives the wielder of such knowledge complete power over their quarry. And so the Mandalorian Empire and its champions would forever keep that name alive, strong, and their recently acquired knowledge a well guarded secret. So far as they can.

It was thoughts such as these that twisted and writhed in the skull of Oron as he strode into the training room, shoulders unnaturally low, burdened with glorious purpose. Held firmly in his left hand was a golden short spear, his intentions set on upgrading and Force Imbuing the weapon with the help of his older brother, class instructor, and Manda'lore, [member="Isley Verd"]. Approaching his work station he gave an acknowledging nod towards the vod that looked his way before placing his weapon on the table. Afterwards he opened his kit and began to study what was before him, intent on excelling during today's training exercises, if only to subtract another weakness from his ever-shrinking list of shortcomings.

[member="Linalia Soft"], [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Dralos"], [member="Cennika Hawk"], [member="Tor Ordo"]

 

[Krayzen Dratos]

"I see. " Dralos stated. The Anzat was never one to know about the mystical aspects of the force. He had always focused on the combative aspects. Dralos imagined that if he learned how to imbue items with the force, and enhance their properties, he would not learn more about the combative aspects of that art like the way the Sith did with Sith Alchemy, and the way the Nightsisters did with their magics.

He then so two vod arrive, and nodded at them, the latter one having a striking resemblance to [member="Isley Verd"].

The Anzat did as Isley instructed, opening his mind to what he wanted to learn. His idea was to imbue a design he was working on with the force in order to give his fellow Mando'ade an opportunity to be able to fight force sensitives. Dralos however was also a cautious person, so he reinforced his thoughts inside his mind with Teras Kasi, while also making sure that he be ready to reinforce his Teras Kasi barriers with something else.

He then waited for Isley to continue the lesson, hoping his other classmates were also doing well in this lesson.

 

[Voices of The Deep]

​

​

Silence.

Unbroken, an interminable veil, without any fathomable beginning or any palpable end, a looping circle, a snake eating its own tail.

The hush sound of isolation cushioned out all other noise; all the screams and siren wails of despairing, hungry souls, all the graceless bone-snap sounds of bodies crawling through ugly spaces on their bellies like worms, all the hate and violence. Here, in the far reaches of the voids sprawling tendrils, there was nothing and there was no one. Nothing breathed, nothing sentient, nothing beyond the sluggish and imperceptible in-out heave of gloomy planets, nothing beyond the sometimes hiss of engines stirred by some impossible wind. The consuming lunatic hum of nihilism burrowed deep, its fevered cathedral ambience swallowing all it touched upon; drawn down deep into the ruddy, dark soul; etched in runic spires to the very roots of the black leather hide of squatting trees ugly with the weight of bloated death.

Wait.

Eyes narrowed...icy optics wandered as the queens ship landed on the surface Mygeeto.

A wave of crashing sound descended upon this calm garden of steel, so calmly hideous, and it rushed across the black light and made it writhe and dance; a shroud of birds peeled away from the canopy with raucous caws of protest, sailing oily into the sun or sinking to glide through tangled branches as their dark paradise was reborn into something chaotic. Echoes of crashing and breaking and running, messy and scrambled, followed this upheaval on tattered wings, and closer to the epicenter the heavy, forced exhale of hard and sweaty breathing could be heard expelled from the depths of lolling jaws that snapped ceaselessly with some static energy, some frantic lust. And The Queen whose face it belonged to?

Not that Winter could see anything very clearly anyways, her vision a painful blur of color and pain, spattered with flickering facets of black versus white and stinging with dust and other shrapnel, the other a useless heap beneath the side of his face buried by a waterfall of dark black-red that smeared its sickly sweet pallor down, down across her jaw and neck and chest; with sundered nerve endings that twitched and screamed white hot agony every now and again. God the noise...it physically 'strained' her to hear such racket.


Still...she was here to do something...here to 'learn'. The Mandolorians had never been much of a loving family to Winter...but they were certainly better than her 'true' family. The woman grimaced at the thought of her sisters...a thought she had to shove back down and drown as she prepared herself for her stay.


And as the hatch to her ship opened, Winter stepped out of the shuttle and onto the surface of the planet...inhaling the dirty air before narrowing her gaze forward...she wasted little time and made her way through the noise...the clutter. She felt as if she were walking through a live battlefield...something she'd actually prefer over the noise that rattled within her skull.

Time passed...and eventually she reached class...upon entering the room she could see many others preparing...looking to their glorious leader who began his lecture.

Winter was just in time...

"I preface by saying: the Force is a Tool."

"It is no different than any blaster, any saber, or anything in-between. It is not to be blamed for the actions taken by any man — for none among us will execute a blaster because it has taken a life. The Galaxy would have you believe that the good and evil are accurately reflected in the Force; yet this is a lie. A folly."

Winter cocked a brow at this and slowly lifted her arms to cross them over her chest...the tall white haired woman remained in the far back...next to the exit...leaning against the all with her cold gaze focused on Isley Verd..."Finally a man i can agree with..." Winter mused to herself quietly...oh how many times had she heard people tell her the force was limited to Good and Evil...Light and Dark...Black and White. Red and Blue...Winter despised the very idea of such a thing...because if there was one thing she knew for sure...The Void was real. But she remained still...patient...observant as he continued. And as he told them he was going to show them how the Jedi and Sith made tools of immense Power Winter simply tilted her head.

"Having said this, prior to coming you were instructed to have an idea in mind. A concept that you would like to see crafted into reality. At this time, I'd like for you to picture it in your mind. Be as absolutely detailed as you can. Next, I would like for you to open your mind. If you are able, feel free to guard your secrets; but know that I am not seeking to know what you keep hidden away. I will speak into your thoughts, I will guide you as directly as I can, and in the end you will succeed in bringing your vision to reality."

This instruction made her avert her gaze to the floor...she would block out all outside interference as her mind began to race...she had an idea...this much was true. It was an idea she had for a while and now she had a chance to take the first step to attaining it...and so she imagined it. A weapon...pulsing vibrantly with the power of The Force. A scepter...a long golden handle and a black fitting which held a stone within its center... encircled with long silver blades...these blades, capable of slicing through nearly any material like butter. The gold handle...extendable, capable of taking the form of a common short scepter the size of a yard or extended into a staff, allowing for a broader range of offensive and defensive capability.

Yes...she could see it clearly now...the details. Every engraving...every finely sharpened edge...a weapon that would be her signature. Her trademark...and as her thoughts came to a steady pace the silence around her slowly faded...noise flooding into her head as she focused those cold azure eyes on Isley...


'Can you truly read my mind...dear tempter.' She thought to herself as those ice cold optics flared with color.

​

[member="Isley Verd"] @Dralos @Oron Verd [member="Linalia Soft"] [member="Joza Perl"] [member="Cennika Hawk"]​