Death of the Clans | Death Watch

[Scourge]

Scourge watched the gathering Mandalorians shifting as the man who had gathered them all here finally revealed himself. It was none other than Ra Vizla himself. Scourge had been imprisoned during his reign as Mand’alor, but even so Mandalorians sang saga’s of his exploits, and his epic death.... Scourge even new a few of the dirges… But, none of them explained how the belated Mandalorian came back to life. Still, if anyone were to lead the Mandalorians to a new golden age Scourge knew it would be the man before him. The Vong felt honored and exalted to be serving under such a picturesque Mandalorian and would have no one else as Mand’alor. If no one else would claim it, Scourge would be the first...

“All hail the new and old Mand’alor Ra Vizla! Mand’alor the Undying!” Scourge roared in his rasping growl through his buy’ce’s loudspeaker.

Scourge kneeled and with fist to earth he pledged himself to The True Mand’alor. Should any challenge this man today they would have to go through Scourge first. His sense of loyalty as a Mandalorian and his word as a Vong was absolute and not to be doubted. Scourge would see this man on top even if it meant his life, for only such a fierce warrior could bring the Mandalorian people to greatness and rebuild Manda’yaim. Bring about the end of Mia the Traitor and her misguided followers. Death watch would reign supreme and in the end Mandalorians would carve out an empire fit to stand a thousand years.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"I'll fight with you! Or I'll fight you... wait! Which one..." Yasha hopped up, "I'm not weak, I'm little!" A child who knew little of grace tried to walk toward the loud man. Wasn't that the point of the Mando'ade? To prove ones' worth to the Aliit?





He spoke of Manda'yaim, this once beautiful place. He spoke of the pride of clans, of people who kept fighting, and winning, because they were a unit. Most of [member="Ra Vizsla"]'s words flew as far over Yasha Mantis' head as a star destroyer over a pebble at the bottom of the sea, but the child listened. [member="Preliat Mantis"]' daughter was one of the lost ones, thrown into the vortex into hell. She crawled back from the ether, salvaged by her mother who by all accounts was terrified of war. When their tummies rumbled or they'd run out of clean water, [member="Aditya Mantis"] bundled her girl up and told her of all the things wrong with Hell. Of all the things right on Mandalore. The best thing, the most right thing was being with her Daddy, her Buir. This big guy wanted to be everyone's ba'buir? Either he was good or he needed to get hacked repeatedly with her tomahawk until he stopped twitching.





Yasha had always known their life in Hell was wrong. She knew, even as a small child, that none of it was right: the killing, the fear, the quick naps which left her tired, the empty bellies. Fear itself kept them sharp, alive, but fear was never supposed to be the natural state of the universe. They were insurgents in a bad place, and one day Mama would bring Yasha home.





But Mama got hurt. Cut open, her wound all smelly. Body all hot and cold. So little Yasha found the way out. She found the way out by doing what all Mando'ade knew to be sacred: called for help from the Aliit. Here, a gigantic guy in armour (who looked a little like a monster, but still smaller than a Wookie) called for help. Home was like Yasha and Mama.





Home needed help. So why couldn't she help, too? "You need a kid to take over, adults ain't been doing so great, Mr. Buy'ce-Pointy-Armour guy ([member="Ra Vizsla"])! I'll be Mand'alor!"

 

[Muad Dib]

His eyes roamed the vode gathered. He had been gone, trapped in another dimension, when this Ra was Mand'alor. He hasn't seen the exploits nor did he see the accolades. When he returned it was to the ruin that had become Manda'yaim. The Clans scattered to the winds. The Mand'alor in seclusion. The resol'nare was no longer held in esteem, the culture of their people broken.

It was disheartening.

But the soul of the mandalorians were refined by fire, and forged anew under the pressure. So the mad man had returned to his home to assist both Briika and Rianna, who were spear heading the endeavor, to restore their homeworld.

And it was while working here that he had heard the first of the ones who claimed the title of Mand'alor. Being only a short distance away he had allowed curiosity and honor to the resol'nare to bring him to where others had gathered. But vod had fought vod, all over one who had claimed to be the ruler of the mando'ade, and yet as time would reveal, was party to the destruction that had wrecked havoc and slaughtered millions to leave the world a pale shadow of it's former self. Not to mention it's people.

He had left before the battle had grown heated, seeing vod against vod in rabid defense of an admitted guilty woman or blind vengeance that stuck down any who stood in their way regardless of the casualties from bystanders.

The man's glowing eyes had seen many faces he knew in this crowd. Several he had fought side by side with. Several he had broken bread and sweat alongside in peaceful endeavors. If this man, this Ra, was proclaimed Mand'alor here a civil war would cross the clans breaking alliances and families as each rallied to a cause. Some would see Mia the Liberator and answer her call, not fully aware of what had just recently been revealed to the Mad Knight of Manda'yaim. Others would flock to the banner of Ra the Crusader. Both had once carried the mantle. Both had fallen only to rise again.

Pushing from his perch he raised his eyes to the man calling out, seeking to know if any challenged his authority. Already some had bent the knee. Two claimed the mantle. Two sides. There would be a war of supremacy. Standing among the mando'ade he raised his voice.

"You ask if any who would challenge you to step forward now. But there is one who claims the title, just as you have. We, the mando'ade, have come. We have fulfilled our duty and kept our honor and answered the call of Mand'alor. But you know there is one who refutes your claim. There is a schism caused by this. One that from ignorance, lack of knowledge, or blind loyalty to honor... it will see our people pitted one against the other. Why do you not challenge her? A public challenge. Should she accept, then defeat her and consolidate our vode under your sole, undisputed, rule. If she does not accept then she proves she is without honor or incapable of the requirements of being Mand'alor."

[member="Ra Vizsla"] I [member="Yasha Mantis"] I [member="Scourge"] I [member="Briika Tor"] I [member="Kad Tor"] I [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Joanes Quez]

When [member="Yasha Mantis"] bashed into his legs, he turned a cold stare downward, and grunted, but otherwise did little more than keep an eye on her, and an ear to her drivel that smacked of a child without a doubt raised in the ways of his people. There was no hiding a child from the realities of being one of the Mando'ade, nor had he tried to do so with his own children, now fully grown as they were - more than grown, he would say, in his private desires for his children to beget children of their own so that he might have more in his life than beskar'gam and turkey.

To [member="Ra Vizsla"]'s challenge, he had no response. The man was fit for the mantle of sole ruler; Joanes had followed Ra before, and would do so again. Any who sought to answer that challenge would... his head snapped to the source of a reply to the challenge, yelling to the capacity of her small lungs, to answer. To accept.

"Oh, for all the..." he hunkered down, and with one swipe of one large hand, had the little Mantis by the back of her collar, and hoisted her up to his eye level, no matter how much or how little she squirmed, and extended his beskar-encased arm out far enough to keep her reach from his face. He scowled, as only a father knew how, "...stupid move, adiik," his voice rumbled, loud enough for others to hear, "my Mand'alor would chew your lil' bones up like a starving..." what was that beast? "...terentatek, and I reckon one could swallow us all."

Bigger than a krayt or a rancor, he'd been told once, having not the pleasure of having met one. He chose to believe it, if only to have another tool to frighten children with for their own good. Then he released her, letting her drop unceremonious to the ground. The girl went 'oof!', and who could blame her? It wasn't a comfort to be dropped from six feet up at so small a size with no recourse. Then, for good measure, he put the toe of one boot to her forehead, bared his teeth, and pushed her into the soil, to keep the tomahawk on her back from being lodged into him. To keep her there, that boot rested on her little chest, only with enough pressure to keep her there, and not crush. Now, he was certain he'd seen [member="Preliat Mantis"] amongst the faces... but it was hard to parse people in the dim light. Maybe he was getting old.

"Mantis!" he yelled, "your ad is a pain in my left arsecheek!"

 

[Ra Vizsla]

Ra stepped forward to [member="Muad Dib"] as many of the other members of Death Watch chuckled at the child.

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His red T-vizor emblazoned, staring down at the man.​

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Mand'alor's voice came out as crushed metal.​

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"You are not Death Watch."​

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His hand reached for an antique, bronze blade and threw it down on the ground.​

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"....Fall upon it, and spare me the effort."​

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Ra took a step backwards, and waited, staring intently at Muad.​

 

[Atiniir Starrider]

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

Atiniir Starrider came late to the assembly. It had taken him time to find transportation from Keldabe, and longer still to arrive at the place he was looking for. Now he stood amongst those gathered, as Ra Vizsla assumed the title of Mand'alor, a title that, apparently, he never should have lost.

Atiniir was young, reckless. It had taken a knife to the ribs to make him realize that the woman who burned Manda'yaim did not deserve his honor, whether he'd accepted her call or not. He was determined not to make a similar mistake again. He had come across mentioning of Ra Vizsla during his transportation to Sundari, and believed that this time he had made the right choice. Vizsla had united the clans, he had lead them to victory, he had returned from the dead. What had that woman done? She had burned a planet and killed millions. Say what she will, she was not Mand'alor.

Atiniir was confused when [member="Muad Dib"] stepped forward, and the sword was thrown to the ground. He watched intently to see what would happen next.

 

[Seydon of Arda]

-delete-

 

[Cato Fett]

A spent hypo-derm ejector tumbled out of his fingers and broke under his boot-fall. Nearly colourless, brow damp with gelatin sweat, and fighting the digging pain still retching bloody phlegm, Cato pushed through a part in the armoured crowd. Dark circles hooded his eyes. Hurt striated his eye in upset blood vessels. The painkiller was just starting to mute feeling back into a callous throb.

He limped forward. Up to the one, cloaked and bearing down from a garish helm, wafting with body heat and the smell of damp fur. Pausing beside a younger man, with a sharp face and a confident, mayhap arrogant gaze. The bronze half-sword laid like a grave marker between their feet.

“...We’re out of dignity. ...And blood. ...And our mettle is being sold to powers that chew through our best. I don’t want to hear what gods or spirits or the dead have in store for you. There are no miracles; only us!” It was a struggle to speak and breathe. Cato felt a knee buckle and loosed an acidic string of curses. But his one eye was bright, searching up through the carmine visor. “I want to know... By the next generation... That all this will all be done. And we’ll work and live and fight as we did once. I don’t need to live to see it.

“I just need to know that it will come. And if so... ...Then what are we waiting for?”

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Muad Dib]

Muad watched as the man who would be Mand'alor, again that is, approached. To say he didn't have a presence and a heavy, weighted charisma would be a lie. But as he decried that he was not Death Watch and threw a weapon on the ground it made the Mad Knight raised a brow.

"Aye. I may not be death watch. But you are no sole ruler. Not when you stand here challenging those who would side with you instead of challenging the one who openly opposes you rule."

Glancing once more to the weapon he frowned before looking back up, the glowing blue eyes meeting the enflamed red T-visor of Ra's.

"I'm not of the mind of performing a sword swallowing act. Why don't you if this is how you face hard, cold facts that you are gearing up for a civil war when you can fight one woman and bring the full might of our people behind you."

His attention was somewhat divided as Cato Fett stepped near, his own questions on his lips. A hand reached out to steady the vod before turning back to Ra.

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Muad Dib"]

"....Then pick it up...."​

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Ra wasn't playing Muad's game.​

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Mia had no claim. She cannot be what Ra is.​

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Mandalorian vengeance would visit her, in time.​

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Ra walked to one of his Vizsla brother's and retrieved an ancient Mythosaur axe.​

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"...and DIE."​

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The behemoth Ra broke into a run, his axe swinging over his back and aiming to come down on Muad's skull.​

 

[Muad Dib]

Ra walked away, his words ringing out to Muad who was waiting for a response. Looking once more to the sword he shrugged.

"No thanks mate, I've got my own."

Standing next to his clansmen Ra retrieved a massive battle ax and called words that caused the mad vod to frown ... "And Die." As the much larger vod charged ,Muad was momentarily caught off guard by the sudden change of events. But muscle memory and a life of warfare spurred him to action.

"OYA!"

Was the cry that tore from the Mad Knight of Manda'yaim's lips as he burst forward, away from the wounded Cato, to meet the attack that was not only uncalled for but inexplicable. His right hand flew over his shoulder and pulled the beskad up and into the arc of the falling ax, the weapons meeting in a clash. The momentum of the larger man drove Muad back several feet as the weapons hung in the air for but a moment.

But battle had been joined, whether Muad had wanted it or not.

Activating the dinu'ul on his left forearm gauntlet he pulled the sword down and away from his body to his right, stepping in close to the other man's body while driving the shield up, aiming for the underside of Ra's armored chin while effectively attempting to get too close for the ax to maneuver.

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Strider Garon]

"So it begins!" The old man's raspy voice whisper under his breath. He watched the events unfold while pulling out a shento cigar. His doctors told him that he would have to quit smoking, quit drinking and on and on it went. If he can't enjoy life's little pleasures, then what was the point in living. Hell, he didn't expect to get to this ripe old age in the first place. Though it seemed his life expectancy that day was higher than the Sith clad in beskar who dared to test Ra's patience.

Strider cut the tip of the cigar and took a proper match to it, preserving the flavor. Few puffs and in no time flat the cig was in proper order and he was enjoying the bitter smoke, rolling it in his mouth with his tongue engaging his pallet that so enjoyed the addiction.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Muad Dib"]

Ra caught the shield to the underside of his helmet. The armor would take the blow, and Ra would settle for a second before standing up straight and attempting to kick the man away. Ra enjoyed close quarters, his size being the sole reason he defeated Ramanaar those years ago. But it would be unfair, and the men would want a spectacle. The moonlight glazed over his helm, turning his red vizor to a shade of maroon as the golden armor of the Mand'alor encroached the warrior Muad. Undying's massive fists gripped the ancient ceremonial axe and ripped another slice towards the warrior's head, knowing it would be blocked.

He threw his shoulder into it, knowing it wouldn't be a fatal blow, only attempting to throw the man backwards into the crowd.

Dragging the axe briefly on the ground with one hand, he would then raise it like a pendulum for another massive blow. Ra had the stamina of the undead, despite his massive size. Another reason Ramanaar, one of the most vicious warriors Ra had ever fought, had failed. Mainly due to his age. But that was hearsay all the same, the man had been promoted to Cuir Rekr shortly after.

Mand'alor stayed silent through each strike, barely even a growl was heard as he monotonously persisted in his strikes until his opponent would inevitably change strategies.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"This is not how that was supposed to go, Mr. Turkey-Man! I will avenge dis injustice!" Yasha grunted, from beneath his boot. She squirmed and shoved, kicking out with her little legs as she tried to grab the tomahawk handle digging into her back. If she could reach the tomahawk, or the steak knife she snuck into her boot, she could stab her way out! Then wouldn't Daddy and the others be surprised.





All kark broke loose. All kark broke loose and Yasha couldn't see it! "Aw piddle-monkey! I wanna see it! Ooo! Is there blood!? I wanna see the spatter! Hey! Hey! Mr. Turkey-Grumpy-Scowl! I wanna see!"





Yasha struggled under [member="Joanes Quez"]' boot some more, grunting and thrashing. She went limp and whimpered, scanning the boots for a familiar pair. Well, a familiar boot with a leg made of beskar.





"Daddy! Buir!" Yasha called to [member="Preliat Mantis"]. "Hewp! I will pay you in turkey jerky if you let me sit on your shoulder and watch the mook get maimed! Pwease don't ground me till I know better! I pwomise I won't try for Mand'alor until I'm this many!" Yasha thrust up all her fingers.

 

[Muad Dib]

The shield connected and then a leg strike lashed out from Ra. Dropping the guard of the dinu'ul the force of the kick sent Muad back several feet. Rolling the shoulders beneath the armor plates Muad attempted to limber up as he was not planning on fighting this night but rather listen to what, most likey, the future leader of his people had to say. He brought his sword and shield together as the other man approached, the clash focusing the Mad Knight.

"Well come on then laddie. You started this."

And so he did again with another overhead attack that had a bit more rear behind it. The blow shoved him back again, his back plates colliding with several in the crowd. And still Ra continued forward, the ax seemingly being drug leisurely behind the massive form. Snarling the Mad Knight moved forward to meet the man once more.

The ax rose again to come at Muad's head in an attempt to split him asunder with it's mighty blow. As the weapon fell from it's great height Muad leapt forward, the sword tip pointed across his body, the length laying across his left hip and the dinu'ul held near his chest as he barely avoided the downward attack, the momentum of his leap taking him once more inside the guard of the weapon as he swung the blade horizontally toward the other man's hip joint.

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Aryn Spar"] [member="Xyloxan"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Joanes Quez"] [member="Scourge"] [member="Cato Fett"] [member="Lyanie Quez"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Kad Tor"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Bloodshot"] [member="Briika Tor"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Marev Priest"]

Kal lay prone on top of a out cropping looking through the macro scope as he marked faces he knew. He used his visor HUD to take images of those he didn't so he could do facial searches later. If these people were worth joining he would find out for himself and not because of pretty words prepared in advance or some other osik. He took a few devices and put them into the canister of the shatter sniper rifle. Two quick shots nearly completely silent even right beside the chamber and he could here voives from two locations. Far enough from heads to not be a threat but close enough to hear.

He sipped through his helmet straw from a canteen as he moved his scope to look at each person as they spoke. He missed who said a few things but he was confident in the fact that he didn't really care that much. He could sort it all out later. For now he'd observe.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Muad Dib"]

The younger man attempted to draw close quarters again. The younger man would face another boot to the sternum if he attempted to get that close.

Ra excelled at close quarters. His massive size, his strength, his layered armor.

Every fight that Ra had fought and wished to win decisively, he had won in close quarters.

Stop. Trying. To Close. In. If. You. Want. To. Live. Is what Ra was trying to telegraph with every boot he sent in the Mandalorian's direction as he sent a consecutive strike again at Muad.

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But, this man was persistent. And there was a meeting to continue.​

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He dropped the axe.​

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A gauntlet struck down to glance the horizontal blow so it wouldn't hurt... as bad. Ra liked how the pain reminded him, how the blood felt on his skin.​

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Warm to the touch.​

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And the other gauntlet struck out to grab the center mass of Muad, and attempt to bring him in.​

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Close quarters.​

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Blue eyes to red T-vizor.​

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And then Ra would attempt to headbutt him, right to the center of his face.​

 

[Tal Vizsla]

Well... This was unexpected.​

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Fun, for sure, but unexpected nonetheless.​

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He'd chuckled along with the others at the younger man's impudence, shaking his head at the lack of foresight the accusations illuminated. Maybe if he'd waited a couple minutes, Ra would have gotten to that part. Still, even though the points he raised were valid ones, there were much better ways to bring attention to them. The Mand'alor did the right thing by laying out his challenge to those assembled before charging off to confront Monroe, and while the younger man seemed to disagree, Bloodshot was fairly certain that Ra intended to do just that once he consolidated his supporters here.​

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Either way, there was a fight going on and that just made Bloodshot all warm and tingly inside. Time to stop introspecting and pay attention.​

 

[Muad Dib]

The momentary elation of a score on the larger man made him grin. But Ra grabbed him by his beskar'gam drawing him toward the other mando'ad. Seeing his opponent drop the massive battle ax, he too released his beskad and twisted his wrist slightly, deactivating the dinu'ul.

Slamming his gauntlet hands to the armored shoulders of Ra as the other man reared back for a headbutt Muad flexed his legs and drove up, leaping forward while pulling himself with his own grip on his opponent's shoulder plates to meet with a Keldabe kiss.

The helm and face collided with the force of the two men both striving forward. At the impact he felt the sharp pain flash though his face as an echo beat a tempo of agony, his nose breaking and the left eyebrow splitting wide, a wave of blood spraying from the Mad Knight's face onto the helm, hopefully obscuring the other man's view with the coat of blood.

As the world began spinning Muad placed his gauntlet hands on either side of Ra's buy'ce and released the repulsor field blasts directly at the man's armored head.

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Ra Vizsla]

[member="Muad Dib"]

Sith Power Gauntlets.

Ra had noted this man had smelled odd, like a fish, at the beginning of the battle. He now knew the reason why. Like a Keldabe jackrabbit, Ra's haunches closed and he comically sunk in slow motion underneath the man's attempt to grasp his helmet. This would leave the repulsor blasts only one target - each other.

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As Muad attempted to blow his own arms off like an out of control windmill, Ra continued to close his haunches in, almost crouching.​

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Like a stop motion holomovie, the Mand'alor clutched himself into a tightly wound ball.​

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And like a viper in the sands of Sundari,​

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Like one of Vilaz's jack-in-the-boxes that everyone knew he played with in his off time,​

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Like a magnificent dolphin breaking the surface tension of water to taste the rainbows of sunlight on a morning's ocean mist,​

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the behemoth Mandalorian sprang back forward with all of his inertia​

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his arms straightened out​

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his legs straightened out​

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Ra had become a missile of Mandalorian strength and power​

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aimed directly to land the top of his head​

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in the sternum of the wacky wavy inflatable tube Muad.​