Mandalore Remembers: Call of the Crusade | Mandalorian Clans | Crusaders | Raxis

[Ra Vizsla]

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M A N D A L O R E​

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If you had not committed such great sins,​

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God would not have sent a ​

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punishment like me​

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upon you.​

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-Genghis Khan​

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Invited: All Mandalorians, Mandalorian Clans, Mandalorian Crusaders, Raxian Empire, Death Watch​

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Ra knew they were busy.​

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Ra knew every sovereign Clan had business to attend to in the Galaxy.​

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But a rising storm needed direction.​

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A tempest needed a path.​

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Mand'alor, since attaining the position, had long dwelled on where this direction would go.​

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Where it would lead them.​

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Who they would become, at the end.​

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As always, the Gods would decide.​

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Mand'alor, the Clans, the Council of Alors, Clan Verd, Clan Raxis, all Mandalorians - all of them had been requested to Mandalore to attend this great ceremonial meeting. It was customary for a new Mand'alor to hold one to not only give direction to the people of Mandalore, but also express his thoughts on matters of state. A new Mand'alor rising within the Clans was usually a chaotic thing to perceive, especially as of late. Their people had almost completely abolished the rank within their culture, choosing to go a more peaceful path. But their bodies, their souls, their very blood yearned for glory. The people of ancestral Mandalore, inheritors of an warrior culture that spanned a thousand years, they ached for an honorable death. To relive their traditions on the battlefield.

Ra promised a return to their warrior past. Tonight, he would deliver on that promise.

He stood at the front of the largest tent, surrounded for miles by smaller tents branded with insignia of the Clans. Clan Betna, Clan Vereen, Clan Munin. Thousands of Clans were represented here, and nearly thirty thousand brothers and sisters had surrounded this desolate valley in order to hear what would be decided here tonight. They were located in an ancient ceremonial ground, built by their forefathers. Primal torches had been lit for as far as the eye could see. Skulls and bones of the Mythosaurs of old surrounded them, dressed with ornate tribal decorations and insignias.

They all had been camped here for hours. Dusk was settling. Ra had only recently emerged from his tent - the music of the camps, the celebrations, everyone fell deathly silent. It was time.

A lone drummer began beating on his war drum at a slow pace in the background.

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Isley Verd Is Named Warmaster of the Mandalorian Clans​

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"Mandalore remembers," Ra growled, staring out at the faces of the Alors and his brothers and sisters.​

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For the uninitiated, he was obviously talking about their homeland, Manda'yaim, the heart of the Mandalorian Clans.​

"Mandalore remembers," Ra spoke. "Clan Raxis. Though your people exercise your right to sovereignty, you remain true to the ways of our people and spread the word of the Resol'nare to all corners of the Galaxy. For this, you have the gratitude of Mandalore and her people. Continue to remember your homeland, Clan Raxis, and you will forever have the support of its people."

"Mandalore remembers," Mand'alor continued, "Clan Verd. Their honor and duty to their people, to their brothers, their sisters, to their fellow Clans remains untainted. Though the call of the Crusade has led them away from Mandalore, they have not been led astray." Ra had told Isley a completely different story only a few weeks prior, but tonight was about uniting. With Clan Verd, the Clans were undoubtedly stronger. "I have spoken with Clan Verd's Alor, extensively. It is through this Clan that the will of Kad Ha'rangir, our god of old, made his will known. It is through Clan Verd that my eyes were opened, and it is through the deeds of Alor [member="Isley Verd"] that we now once again find ourselves united.

For this, I name [member="Isley Verd"]... Warmaster of the Clans, most honorable and esteemed title any Mand'alor could bestow. No other can claim he has done as much for Mandalore as the Alor of Clan Verd, and tonight we recognize that. You bring honor to Clan Verd, Isley. May glory follow you, brother, and may your blade be painted with the blood and iron of Mandalore's enemies."

The Vizsla Alor'ad, standing on either side of [member="Ronan Vizsla"], stepped forward to grace [member="Isley Verd"] with a necklace containing the piece of Mandalore the Ultimate's mask that had been given to Ra at the Alor'ultai when he was named Mand'alor.

"A shard of the mask of Mand'alor the Ultimate, so that you may forever aspire to his grandeur. When you have wandered too far from home, Alor of Clan Verd, look upon it and remember what it is you are reclaiming for."

The Council may have thought Ra had an interest in reforging the mask. Such trinkets didn't make a Mandalorian great - they only served as reminders of what could be, not what is.

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Ra now turned his head to the Clans that still remained united under the banner of Mandalore, the sovereign Clans who had chosen to protect the Clans.​

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"Mandalore remembers our fallen," Ra's face looked twisted in the fire of the nearest torches. "And the vengeance will we bring upon our foes."​

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Davon Karr, Draco Vereen, Mia Monroe, and Vilaz Munin are named the Cuir Rekr​

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"I will now name the Cuir Rekr, the Four Wolves of Mandalore, those who will bring that vengeance upon our enemies."​

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"Approach, [member="Davon Karr"]. I name you Ramaanar, so that you will bring Death to the enemies of Mandalore." Davon was given an ancient hollowed out Mythosaur bone axe's hilt. It glowed a hot white with algae from the Mandalorian swamps.​

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"Approach, [member="Draco Vereen"]. I name you Shukalar, so that through you, all others will know what the Mando'ade are capable of, through speech and force of hand." Draco was given an ancient hollowed out Mythosaur bone axe's hilt. It glowed orange with the desert crystals of north Sundari, the massive sprawling city of Mandalore.​

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"Approach, [member="Mia Monroe"]. I name you Katlayadr. May your intellect and wisdom bring the fire of a thousand suns upon all who dare defy the warriors of ancient Manda'yaim." Mia was given an ancient hollowed out Mythosaur bone axe's hilt. It glowed green with the leaves of forests of their homeland.​

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"Approach, [member="Vilaz Munin"]. I name you Akaan, my war. You will be first among the Cuir Rekr, the Four Wolves, and I name Clan Munin the Vanguard of the Clans in your honor.​

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You will lead our brethren to battle. You will remind the enemies of Mand'alor what it means to make War."​

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Vilaz was given an ancient hollowed out Mythosaur bone axe's hilt. It glowed red with encrusted rubies from the mines of ancient Mandalore.​

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Mand'alor Calls For A Crusade​

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Ra looked at Vilaz, the newly appointed Akaan of the Clans. "Mandalore remembers," he said, his eyes grazing over the others that stood nearby. "And she is everything to us." The Mand'alor was beginning to get animated, you could see the fury behind his green-lit eyes. "My life, my blood. It is the ground beneath my feet, the sky above our heads. Mandalore's security must be ensured, for our children's future, for our future. For a thousand generations to come."

"But we must not allow them to come to us. Our enemies are sloth and corruption, wicked they may be.​

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They hide in the shadows.​

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They are a disease that must be drawn to the surface and expelled.​

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Forcefully."​

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"MANDALORE REMEMBERS,"​

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Ra slammed the hilt of his Mythosaur axe into the dirt so forcefully that it stayed upright. He grabbed one of the long standing torches, walking in a circle and addressing the Mandalorians in attendance.​

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"Mandalore remembers those we lost to the One Sith, the vile brigands whose name now rings synonymous with corruption and dishonor. Mandalore remembers the plot of a false Death Watch that attacked our homes, our children, our brothers and sisters - seeded by the One Sith Empire. Oh, Mandalore remembers.​

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When Mandalore turned to the Republic for aid, as we have so many times in years past, where were they as the One Sith slew our brothers and sisters? Where has the Republic been when fighting our mortal enemies? Why have they never answered the call?​

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Where are the Obroa-Skai Accords, and why were they never obeyed? ....Why do we consistently get empty promises from a foreign government incapable of defending itself or providing stability and security within it's borders?​

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Mandalore remembers.​

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Mandalore remembers a time when it had no allies, for it needed no allies.​

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Mandalore remembers a time when it had no enemies, for they were destroyed.​

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Mandalore remembers.​

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Now it is time for them to remember us.​

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I call upon all of you, Alors, brothers, sisters, friends, family, Mandalorian. Upon your honor and allegiance to Mandalore, upon your honor and allegiance to Mand'alor.​

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I call upon you to Crusade into the Core, to attack our enemies within the treacherous Galactic Republic and the villainous One Sith Empire.​

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Lay siege to their lands.​

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Take from them what​

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they have taken from us,​

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so many times.​

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For Honor.​

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For Glory.​

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Your Manda'lor​

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calls you​

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to Crusade." ​

 

[Matreya]

Midst the Clans stood a group of harsh and rugged Vod, each scarred and damaged in many of their own unique ways. At the head of this group stood a man whose shaggy hair was finally clean, straight even, his stubble trimmed to proper lengths, his clothing replaced for elegant garb. Damien Daemon, even if unknown to have transferred to Fos Misao, would always hold title of Aliit'buir. The Hermit had finally left his shell, returning to the cosmos to meet with the other members of his Aliit. Now they listened to the words of a Mandalor that Fos trusted as much as he trusted his wife to not put herself into danger.

The Daemon Clan, Demons of Mandalore, headed the call. They listened... and they reveled in the proclamation. It had long been that the Daemon Clan stood silent, as commanded, but now they would unleash themselves to the masses, like a raging inferno they would eat everything in their paths..

 

[Ashin Varanin]

There had been trepidation in Alec's heart, and the hearts of Clan Rekali, as to what direction the new Mandalore might take. Clan Rekali had its own friends, its own enemies, and those categories had not always agreed with the priorities of other clans. Alec had promised to put Clan Rekali's wars on hold and follow Vizsla instead. Alec had come to this meeting intending to knuckle down and fight another chief's war.

Instead she'd found that Ra gorram Vizsla understood. And he'd just named the exact priorities of Clan Rekali. The wars they'd put aside to follow him, he'd handed back to them a hundredfold in the best possible way.

Clan Rekali fething roared. Lost it. Complete and total approval of Ra Vizsla's goals and rationale. And Alec yelled along with them until her throat was hoarse.

 

[Subject 37]

Her eyes closed for a moment as she listened to the roar of the crowd, her face hidden behind her helmet, her lips pressed so thin that the blood had long been drained from them. She stood still, her hands clenched into white knuckled fists. There had been a moment of pride. There had been a moment of outrage. There had been a moment of betrayal.

She understood it.

She was no fool.

That did not make it easier in her mind, that did not make the burden any lighter or the weight any less. She could still feel that white hot searing hatred within her core, the want, the need to do as her ancestors had sworn to do. She had been so close, so very close. Saeva, Kiran, it had all been taken in steps towards one goal, a goal that would now not only mar her as a Traitor, but perhaps mark her as one of the greatest villains in the history of their people.

Part of her wondered if she was okay with that, being marked as a villain instead of the hero. Clan Spar had never been one of the larger, had never been one to hold any true weight, but they'd never brought any shame either. In truth they had always been a minor thought, with many forgetting they even existed. Sera knew that if she did what she wanted to, if she followed through with her desire that her Clan would live in infamy. It was the toll that she would have to pay, the price that was marked for her desire.

Her eyes folded open, falling upon the people on the stage.

Slowly she turned away from them. Some of the Mandalorians around her gave her a short look, others ignored her completely. They were all wrapped up within their own thoughts, their own pride, their own nationalistic desire to see the rise of their people. She could not, and would not blame them, but for her the moment was tainted, besmirched. Her bloodless lips settled into a scowl as she began to cut through the crowd.

 

[Matreya]

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

From high in the distance, led by an unseen hand, an arrow shot as if an assassination attempt was being led... save the arrow planted itself deep into the ground in front of the Manda'lor not in him. Attached to the arrow was a small holopad. Immediately it kicked to life:

"Manda'lor, I ask for no recognition during this recording, rather to let you know of the growing numbers of a unit under your control. Originally I offered fealty to the Warmaster, but now I offer the same to you; the Kop'ad Beroya will be ready to take any mission given. Our goals are to be of use to the Clans, yourself, and our people. This is Shev'la Kyr'am; Hail Manda'lor. "

Any attempt to find the originator of the arrow would be met with no results. For Valashu already left, No-Show active alongside his best Force Stealth.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnbOcNmbpj4​

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Mandalore Remembers.​

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And so comes the Conqueror. Draco listened closely to the Mand'alor, standing behind him, T-visor looking out over the people gathered here. The return of Clan Verd was something he enjoyed. Isley was a good friend, and though he had been a good man, and a proper warlord, he lacked the full support of the people. Being declared Warmaster of the Mandalorian people was something he would be proud of, and something Draco thoroughly approved of. When Isley had asked the Alor'e Council, Draco had been the first to speak up, and he had told his friend the same thing he had told Mand'alor. <I will not kneel, but I am willing to stand with you.> Now he would get the chance to stand with [member="Isley Verd"] once again.

[member="Davon Karr"] was named to the Cuir Rekr, as Ramaanar, and Draco nodded in respect to the elder warrior. In his Clan, the old warriors were the most revered, most respected of the clansmen. Davon was no different, an old man in a young man's game was to be feared.

Hearing his own name, the Mandalorian stepped forward and accepted the mythosaur bone axe handle silently, and returned to his place. [member="Vilaz Munin"] and [member="Mia Monroe"] joined Davon and he as members of the Cuir Rekr, fine choices. He would have to work and be vigil to maintain his place among the likes of these. But, that was the point, that they would drive themselves and the Clans to greatness.

A crusade.

Draco could get behind a crusade. A war among the stars that would see the enemies of the Mandalorians brought low. That was intriguing, but what was more intriguing was the Mand'alor's reasoning.

"Mandalore's security must be ensured, for our children's future, for our future. For a thousand generations to come."

Those words resonated with him more than the others, as his own children were well on their way. [member="Faith Organa"] may not be pleased with him marching off to war, but she would have to understand why he went. He would not have his children worried about the betrayal and destruction of their allies, of the Sith, of the Republic. He would answer that call gladly. Draco raised his own voice to be heard as the Mand'alor finished speaking, roaring with Clan Rekali, those members of Clan Vereen raising their voices beside them.

War was coming. Mandalore was out for blood.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

In the back of the crowd stood a woman in anonymous beskar'gam, no Force signature to speak of. Just standing there remembering another life: her verd'goten and induction into Clan Ordo; fighting alongside the Mandalorians over and over; defending Keldabe; rescuing her wife from the torture of the One Sith and the contempt of the Republic. She joined a call that was rising in the ranks.

"Tsad Droten enteyor trattok'or! Dar'jetiise enteyor trattok'or!"

Mando'a made no distinction between Sith and Dark Jedi, if there really even was one anymore, so the woman who'd once been Ashin Varanin was more than conscious of the irony. That didn't mean she didn't wholeheartedly agree with the original sentiment: that Ra Vizsla had hit the nail on the head. It was time to answer contempt in kind. And certainly, in her other life she'd still be in the guise of a Naboo noblewoman, a bureaucrat, the farthest possible thing from a Mandalorian. She'd be living publicly without armour, skirting the edges of the resol'nare, with an eye to goals that matched the ones that Vizsla had just laid out. But in secret, as ever, she wore this anonymous suit. And the time had finally come to get it genuinely bloody.

"DAR'JETIISE ENTEYOR TRATTOK'OR!"

 

[Zef Halo]

Zef Halo stood closer to where the speech was being had. His only true friend in this Galaxy - [member="Isley Verd"]- had been named Warmaster. A great honor. The scoundrel's feelings were still mixed after the recent turn of events but he felt rallied by the speech. Even him - a scoundrel who so close walked the line between Mandalorian and a dar'manda. The blood boiled within his veins as he observed everyone around him yell and answer the call on a crusade.

A slight smirk was painted on his face as he uttered the words he had craved on uttering:

"Hell, it's about time."​

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

"Tsad Droten enteyor trattok'or! Dar'jetiise enteyor trattok'or!"


A rousing chorus of voices arose, like a thunderous roar. Siobhan Kerrigan stood close to the edge of the crowd, wearing her beskar armour. Young Elpsis was at her side, so was [member="Tempest"]. The Countess was unusually quiet and introspective. In this particular case, silence did not equal disapproval though. Siobhan was probably very far from the Mandalorian ideal, though she'd answered the call on Wayland. She lived away from Mandalorian space, and spent most of her time as a noblewoman and corporate magnate. She lived publicly without armour. Still, she followed the resol'nare in her own idiosyncratic way. And she had no reason to disagree with their choice in targets.


She thoroughly loathed Sith, as hypocritical as that might seem to some since she was a darkside Force-user. Kill them all. As for the Republic, it had thoroughly, comprehensively and decisively lost any claim of occupying the moral high ground. She remembered an Ashiran saying about tearing out the weed in the garden.

 

[Caspian Rekali]

Caspian Rekali, the last pupil of the late [member="Ember Rekali"] stood alongside his sister [member="Alec Rekali"] and their clan watching the newly crowned Mandalore take center stage. There was concern in the hearts of many in Clan Rekali about what the future held for them under the new mandalore, if they would be safe. Long had they put aside their own concerns and fought the wars of the clans, because it was what they had to do.

There was an inner rage deep inside the heart of the Young Warlock ever since his grandfather had been taken from him, robbed from the world by a rogue terrorist he would some day find. But while he was gone the fight of his grandfather lingered in the young boy. The hatred for what the One Sith did in robbing the world of his father, his grandmother and many more of their family. Hatred of the Republic for abandoning [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] sacrificing their shining champion for what? Nothing. It was disgusting, despicable to allow these forces to exist in the galaxy and for far too long they were allowed to live, to thrive while the United Mandalorian Clans sat on their hands incapable of action.

Then [member="Ra Vizsla"] came.

Ra Viszla was giving Clan Rekali back its wars and he would be at their side, waging these wars with them. As he watched the crowds erupt in roars and chants for war, blood, death, and vengeance Caspian unfolded his arms and it was at this moment that years of pent up emotion fell out all at once.

Caspian roared. He roared with the crowds as loud as he could and he continued to until his voice would no longer allow it. Finally. The debs of blood would finally be collected, and all would tremble before their might.

 

[Gray Raxis]

Gray was on Mandalore to listen to the speech made by [member="Ra Vizsla"] the new Mand'alor. He had not known exactly what to expect from the speech, but he had an idea of how it might go. What had come as a bit of a surprise was that his clan was the first to be addressed and they had been supported to their claim to sovereignty. They would have claimed it even if it hadn't been supported though because that was the Mandalorian way after all, but it was a bit of peace of mind that they would not have to worry about being called dar'manda or be hounded by their fellow Mandalorians just for choosing their own path. The rest that followed was not as much of a surprise to him, although the business with Isley had gotten close. It was all fairly standard for what he imagined would have to happen. The alor of other clans needed to have their egos stroked with titles and positions of authority. That did get a bit of a frown out of him. Honor was a big deal for Mandalorians, but it was only a small portion of the greater whole that was Mandalorian culture. What was more important was protecting and providing for your family and clan. Titles might bring honor, but they did nothing to help you protect and provide.

Gray made sure to show the proper respect by clapping at the end of the speech. There might have been a few surprises along the way, but it ended up going in much the direction he expected it to go. A little bit of appealing to egos, and mostly setting up a common enemy or enemies for the people to focus on instead of each other. Clan Raxis had their own enemies to deal with while they were setting up their Empire, but they would still do their duty and aid in conflicts dealing with the Sith. He did not see his people in danger of Sith corruption like they had been too often in the past with their current Mand'alor, but the Sith always found a way to exploit weaknesses. As much as the Mandalorian people felt they were invincible, they were weak to having their pride and thirst for challenge exploited by those who understood them. Hopefully they would be able to push past both and not be consumed by it yet again.

 

[Briika Munin]

Briika Tor stood in a sea of Mando'ade, who had come from near and far to hear their new Mand'alor speak. [member="Ra Vizsla"] had a bold vision for his people. One that would unite them as never before, and give them hope for the future generations of Mandalorians.

The Sole Ruler's message gave the blonde baar'ur goosebumps as he called out how Mandalore remembered. She hadn't been moved like this in a very long time bringing a tear or two to her azure eyes that were hidden behind her silver-colored buy'ce's darkened T-visor

As the elder Vizsla named those that would become the Warmaster and his Four Wolves, it dawned on Briika she was now clanless due to death and divorce, though the Enceri-born would always respond to the call of the Mand'alor no matter what as she had done before.

Whether Bree chose another clan or was recruited by one for her valued medical skills and marksmanship, only time would tell. For now she shouted cheers with the rest of her kin folk.

[ Oya! Oya Manda! ]

Yes, Mando'ade were a family despite what clan you were in or not, and Briika Tor was a proud sister of Mandalore this day.

 

[Tempest]

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Tempest watched with Siobhan and Elpsis as the rally went on. She was not a full Mandalorian, but was here by invitation and after all she was wearing Beskar armour.
She felt little one way or the other. The Mandalorians had been stagnant, but now they were about to blaze back into life. War was coming, and Tempest truly cared little who they targeted. Her homes were far away and both Jedi and Sith deserved to be punished.

So she just nodded as the new Mandalore made his announcements.

 

[Bestala Vizsla]

As both a member of Clan Vizsla and a Mandalorian, Bestala attended the gathering on Mandalore. She had attended the festivities that preceded [member="Ra Vizsla"]’s speech. Once the new Mandalore began, Bestala intently listened to the path Ra envisioned for the Mandalorian Clans.

During the high points of Ra’s speech, Bestala enthusiastically cheered while standing with the rest of Clan Vizsla. It appeared as if she was completely on board with Ra’s ideals and goals.

 

[Skye Mertaal]

The flare of a cherry red light glinted from behind the tinted visor of the hunter's helm. Roars erupted around her, cheers for the crusade that was to come. The woman, on the other hand, stood quietly. Stoic, as always. Feet spread apart, arms crossed over her chest, the Force completely subdued from the use of the .

By all accounts, to those Forcers at her side, she would seem to be one untouched by the Force. That was how she liked it. Blending in and fading into the background. It was not her desire to stand out. Instead it was to be normal. As normal as any Mandalorian could be. She wasn't alone in her quiet contemplation, nor did she believe that she'd be the last.

None the less, the cogs of the Universe were moving. Manda'lor's call would light the pyres and strike at the drums of war. She held no love for the Republic, and her distaste of the One Sith akin to many that stood among her today. But where would that leave her? Where would she stand? The past few years Mertaal had carved a home within the Mandalorian Clans. A hermit she may be, but she had still answered the call in the past.

Could I do so now?

 

[Dariak Talesa]

Dariak and a few of his warriors had attended the rally that [member="Ra Vizsla"] had put on and found themselves in the middle of the throng. He had never seen a new Mand'alor take control of the clans before and naturally he was excited. He was excited for those that had attained great rank along side the leader of the clans.Yet all of this paled in comparison to the call for a glorious crusade. For any Crusader it was the reason for being; to earn honour serving your clan in battle, to attain fortune plundering the dead and broken enemy, to carve glory from the strongest foes you could seek out and challenge in the fire of battle. More than that was to attain favour from the Destroyer. From Kad Ha'rangir so that should they fall he would bring them into his army to defend the homestead in the next life.

This life was merely another test. Another way to hone your skills against Arasuum's forces and find darasuum kote. Eternal Glory.

With the call for Crusade Dariak could barely contain his bloodlust and enthusiasm for war as he reached back to pull his beskad from its sheath. His warriors followed suit and they lifted their blades as one. "Mand'alor! Mand'alor! Mand'alor!"

 

[Arrbi Betna]

It wasn't every day things like this happened. In such a short, short time so much had changed. For better? For worse? Betna didn't know, but change it did.

The Mandalorians embraced change, even embodied it at times. Change meant conflict and conflict was inherently Mandalorian. Without conflict, there was no progress. Without progress, there was only stagnation. Stagnation and decay went hand in hand and for a culture based on ancient nomadic principles, such a path was entirely against everything they believed in.

The Alor of Clan Betna still believed that a Mand'alor was not necessary in today's time and age, but he could not doubt the renewed life of the clans. Whether it was because a Mand'alor stood at their head or because a man with the personality and drive to push the Mandalorian people forward had taken the reigns, he couldn't tell. Only time would.

Around him, members of his clan shouted and roared with approval. A clan like Betna where fighting was the main focus, it was expected. Ultimately, Betna was atypical and always had been. Preferring the rifle to the ax, the farm to the war camp. He could cross blades with the best and had earned the respect of his clan, but even so he was still fairly different. Perhaps that was why he was Alor of his clan, for taking the long view and stepping out to see the bigger picture.

The sounds of his kin told him that, at least for now, his choice was obvious despite his reservations. He still believed what he believed, only time would tell him if he was wrong or right. Betna's heart was unsure of Ra and the man's intentions and capabilities, but even Arrbi had to admit that the new Mand'alor had dredged up something the Clans had needed for a long, long time.

Hope.

A hope for a better future and a possible Golden Age for the clans. Whether Ra could deliver that was in question for Betna, but the clans, it seemed, believed he could do just that. Arrbi had his doubts, but for the Clans sake, he hoped Ra could deliver. And as much as he believed there was no need for a Mand'alor, Betna knew that if Ra was going to bring the clans up from the ground, he'd need help.

And so despite his doubts, Betna knew he'd do his best in that regard. Hope was something too important to throw away on a doubt.

He doubted that the man in question was even able to spot him in the rejoicing throng of warriors and clans, but Betna figured that wasn't important. He didn't shout or roar like the rest of his clan or like most there. Instead, he lifted up the simple wooden cup in his hand in a simple toast before sipping at the ale inside.

There was much to do, now, with this announcement. A great deal to prepare for, weapons and armor to stockpile. And, who knew, maybe Arrbi's doubts were unfounded.

He hoped so.

[member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Anija Betna"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

There was always another war to be waged. For almost four hundred years the Alpha Company had made their living waging wars for others. They had almost lost themselves before Ardgal left and found out what it meant to be a Mandolorian again. Then he told them all, and became the general of the growing army.

There were always wars to be waged, but not all of them were worthy to be won. As Ardgal sat back he listened to the words of the great war new warrior and leader, the general knew he had one worth fighting. It wasn't for vengeance that he fought, not once and he never would. Even when his father and mother had been gunned down before him, Ardgal didn't stay in the siege to get even--it was to help protect the vod to his left and his right. He supposed that there had to be something in the Raxis blood that appealed to the calmer, more protective side of the warrior, rather than the devourer. To the general's ears it sounded like once more there was a clear and eminent danger before them. A war not just without but within. A war of raiders that threatened to come and pillage away more of the lands of the Mandolorians as they had before, and a war within that threatened to take them all.

It was a war worth fighting. A war they were all engaged in knowingly or not.

He looked to one of the young officers by his side, a man of 18 named Plinely Raxis. Man was a right name for him. He had grown up like the rest of Alpha company, with a rifle in his hands. The jagged scar running from his jaw to nose testified of his battle-tested and proven life. Ardgal gave the man a smile, "Remember how you said that we needed more than 'baby siting?'"

"Yes, sir."

"Be careful what you wish for."

"Yes, sir."

The general nodded, turning his attention back to his datapad, scanning the darknet for more weapons, information, and vehicles. If he believed Raxis Mercenaries and Independent Arms needed it before, he knew in the days ahead they would need them more than ever.

"I think it time we begin enacting the Paladin Initiative," Ardgal said showing his datapad to Gray. He looked to his leader's face, 'Do you agree?"

[member="Gray Raxis"]

 

[Funky Balor]

Funky watched solemnly, inscribing every word the Mandalore uttered upon an Eukar tablet, etching it precisely. Every word, written in Mando'a. Every word, kept for posterity. As the other members of the clan shouted their adulations, Funky added his own annotations quickly. Describing the four horsemen of the Mando'ade in his own words, keeping it as brief as he could.


[member="Davon Karr"], elder alor. A man of clan and family, known to fight in wars and history. Both both alongside and against Ra Vizsla. Earned his right to claim the title while vying for glory in the arena. A champion and elder, but strong as he was wise.


[member="Draco Vereen"], hunter and goran. Betrothed to a foreign noble. A hunter of beasts and seeker of glory, known for his inventive streak. If Davon Karr could be said to show the Mandalorian heart, then perhaps Vereen's cunning could be considered an an example of its mind.

[member="Mia Monroe"], sage and log-time recluse. She had not been seen among the clans for ages, but her desire and ambition could not be ignored. Charismatic and clever, she could work in ways others could not, and would likely be the master of many intrigues.

[member="Vilaz Munin"] was already record by better scribes, so he simply mentioned the works of house Munin's own tales. Vilaz was a former rally master and chief. He'd been many people's next guess for the duties of Mand'alor. He was a wanderer and hunter. He'd fought in many of the haradest wars the clans had faced.

Finally, a note was made to exalt the new warmaster. Formerly the Reclaimer. [member="Isley Verd"]. A controversial man, but then, what were the Mando'ade themselves but children of conflict? The man once known as Mand'alor had rescinded his claim. And now, what would he be called? Verd the Redeemed? Verd the Mighty? Who knew, he hadn't earned a name yet--not in this new young history. In all honesty, neither had Ra. But this was the start for both of them. The start for a new era, which would be named later by history, and told around the fire with awe. The ponderous Mandalorian finished his annotations, and then joined in the raucous roars. Mandalore indeed remembered. And soon, it would rise. He played his fluted spear, a sound like a roaring beast coming from it. "Balor stands! Hail Mand'alor! Hail Manda'Yaim! OYA VOD!!!" The odd man bellowed, other revelers joining him. He would live to witness this story, and he would remember to tell it with joy concerning this day. For this was a new day for the Clans. A mighty one.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Tempest"]


Tempest and Siobhan were stoic during the grand rally. Elpsis could not get a read on what her Aunt was thinking, for the woman's mind was closed-off and her face gave little away, though she doubted the Firemane matriarch disapproved of what the new Mandalore had proclaimed. She reached out to take Tempest's hand and thread their fingers together.


Elpsis' reaction to the proclamation was...less unemotional. Perhaps it was her own boiling hatred for everything Sith, perhaps the resentment she felt against the Republic for the appalling treatment she and her mother had received during their time in that nation's Jedi Order. Or the memories of the Republic's manifold crimes that merited punishment. Perhaps she was also carried along by the high tide of emotions inside the rally, for as an empath she felt all these keenly. She was also younger and less experienced in war than the two older Firemanes.


Like a sponge, she soaked up the feelings of fury, hope and all the other passions that had flooded the gathering. This was accompanied by quite a headache, but also a feeling of exultation. A fire had been lit and it was meant to blaze across the stars. So she joined the chorus when "Tsad Droten enteyor trattok'or! Dar'jetiise enteyor trattok'or!" was chanted across the crowd. Till her throat was hoarse.