Faction [Mandalorians + Allies] Sons & Daughters

[Domina Prime]

Planet Kestri, City of Tor Valum​

[A social thread for Mandalorians of any clan or 'faction' to celebrate their culture, their fallen, and their newly founded. Play games in the coliseum to prove your metal, share war stories & meet other fellow Mandos, take your fill of food and drink, plan future raids & battles! And have fun of course~ <3]

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Redacted cause thread died~

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[Gailen Keldau]

ACKLAY
TOR VALUM | KESTRI
TAG: Domina Prime | Morgan Keldau | Thonn Rokkal | Vulcan Krayt | Open
GEAR: In bio

DON'T TREAD ON ME​

"C'mon, Vod. Just a small discount?"

Gail was leaning against the bar, pleading with Strill behind the bar. He was already on his third for the night, but wasn't feeling it yet.
"You've had enough discount, Keldau. Full price now." The old barman was adamant.
"You drive a hard bargain, Strill. Fine." Gailen slammed some more credits onto the bar before his drink was slid towards him.

The Alor'ad smiled mischievously as he pulled the tankard closer.

But as he turned to head to a table with the pint, he walked smack into a large beskar body, tihaar splashing against the cuirass. The big guy's helmet looked down at Gailen who stared at it for a second before breaking into a grin, still holding his tankard.
"My bad." he said, starting to back away.
The big guy looked down at his tihaar-splattered chest before looking back at Gail. Then he grabbed the Alor'ad at the top of his chestpiece and pulling him closer, lifting his feet almost from the ground in the process.
"That all apology you gonna give?" he asked, voice muffled behind the helmet.
"Pretty much, yeah." Gailen said.
In answer, he was flung to the other side of the room, tankard flying in the opposite direction.
"Damnit, Kryze, I have to mop that." said Strill from behind the bar.
The big guy just grunted and walked away.

Meanwhile, Gailen crashed down onto a table next to some other vode.
"Why do they always have to be wasteful though? Good drink is hard to find." he grumbled as he got to his feet from between the splinters of the table. Then he looked around, spying the familiar armours of Thonn Rokkal and Vulcan Krayt among the crowd gawking at him for a second to see if he would get up.

"Any of you want to sponsor me a new one?" he grinned questioningly.

 

[Morgan Keldau]

Kestri | Tor Valum
Gear: In bio
Tags: Gailen Keldau | Domina Prime | Vulcan Krayt | Thonn Rokkal

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Theme​

Kestri, the last bastion for the Mandalorian people after the galaxy tried to get rid of them. Morgan was an imperial, nothing more to it. With the tensions between them and the Enclave, they were his enemy not too long ago. The collapse of the Empire, however, changed all of that for the Thyrsian. With nothing better to do in his search for work, Morgan decided to travel to his people's homeland.

Despite the helmet on his head, he still felt like an outsider. Not too long ago, they would have killed each other on sight... something he didn't mind keeping on the down low in his drifting. He didn't need any more enemies at this point.

The Keldau was yanked out of his thoughts when another Mandalorian was shooed away by the barman before being tossed across the room by another Mandalorian. Morgan blinked a few times at the spectacle before taking a long sip of his tihaar. The name, however, stood out to him. Keldau. Apart from the handful of soldiers in the Sons of Mandalore, he had never encountered another Keldau before. Setting down his mug beside his bright orange helmet, the Mandalorian rose from his seat and gave the Keldau a slap on the shoulder. "Come on." He muttered as he wandered over to the bar counter, waiting for the barman to reach him. "Tihaar for my friend here." He placed a few credits on the counter, plus a few extra, as he glanced at the stranger.

"Not a lot of Keldaus around here." He quipped, sauntering back to his table for a sip of his drink. Seeing the other Mandalorian walk past, Morgan couldn't help but get a mischievous tingle up his spine. "Didn't know a Kryze could get aggressive, pretty new thing for me." He quipped, glancing up at the giant of a man.

 

[Kalðr Ísbjørn]

TAGS: OPEN​

Spoiler: Equipment

Armor: Htagir'Jorir | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Beskar'gam
Weapons: PS-118 Blaster Shotgun - G'ahycaya | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Beskad - Ciryc'saca | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Slugthrower Revolver
Items: AXC (x3) - CryoBan Grenade (x12) - Power Packs (x7) - Slugs (Standard: x312) - Ration Packs (x5 Days)​

If anyone had bothered to sit in the back left corner near the man in the white and blue beskar'gam, they would have noticed a distinct chill, a rather peculiar thing to feel while inside. Kalðr Ísbjørn sat there alone in a booth with a perpetually frosted mug of mead, watching everything that was unfolding. One large Mandalorian sent another flying across the room, crashing into a table close to Kalðr. The man got up and dusted himself off.

"Any of you want to sponsor me a new one?"

Kalðr was about to offer himself, but another beat him to it. They seemed to be kin anyway. Kalðr looked at the man who had done the throwing. "Not really a way we should treat our vode," he said. "Especially over a little spilled tihaar. He did apologize. Amongst Mando'ade, that should be enough." It was simply something that Kalðr believed strongly in, that all Mandalorians should be a collective family of sorts, regardless of blood or clan. Sadly, it seemed not everyone shared his views.
The Kryze looked like he wanted to make some kind of retort, but seemed a bit hesitant upon seeing Kalðr's icy, blue-eyed stare.

 

[Thonn Rokkal]

Thonn hadn't been paying much attention to the scene that unfolded. He was content to sit down and drink, until the commotion came his way and forced him to stand away from his seat. Only when Gailen crashed into the table before him did he gain any awareness that there'd even been a fight going on. He wish he'd known, it probably would've been entertaining to have watched the first half of it. Given the sheer size of the man who'd thrown Gailen, it couldn't have been a long fight at all. Even Thonn could figure that out.

"Any of you want to sponsor me a new one?" Gailen asked, and Thonn was hesitant to part with his credits. Yeah, the guy sure seemed down on his luck, Thonn couldn't deny that. But he already gave up his table, how much more was this guy gonna ask? Probably a couple more drinks, at least.

"Tihaar for my friend here."

Well, maybe it wouldn't kill him to offer him one. On the other hand, it was a shame to get thrown through a table without having some tihaar to take the edge off. Before Thonn could make his reluctant offer, someone else had. And it was long before, since Gailen already had a drink in his hand again. Well he didn't have to do anything and the problem was solved, so he chalked that up as a double-win and began to seek a new place to enjoy his tihaar.

Thonn began to move, but then he noticed Kalðr Ísbjørn facing off againt the man that threw Gailen. Well now, maybe he'd get to watch a fight after all. Thonn ceased his search and watched on, slowly making his way towards Gailen and his new friend while taking another swig of his drink while the two men faced off.

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Location: Tor Valum, Kestri
Objective: Get a drink
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol
Tags: Gailen Keldau | Domina Prime | Morgan Keldau | Thonn Rokkal | Open

In all, Vulcan decided to stay in Kestri, but if the time comes he will resettle elsewhere. His misshapen cakes are a surprise hit, and thus he was just about to break even. Who knew people liked hexagons and deformed squares? With enough credits/Tokens, he was able to spend some money as he wished, after bills and taxes. He hated bills but they were a necessary evil. He could swear they were ratcheting up biweekly.

He had been here an hour, and already it felt a little more like the old days, the side-eyes were still there but not to the huge degree as they once were. Vulcan still wanted to glue their eyelids shut, being stared at is extremely uncomfortable he is peripherally aware of someone having a good long stare.

He got himself a tankard of Tithaar, weighty and equally strong, good for the Mando soul, however, he had to hold it close to him as he dodged crowds, it gets irksome when it is spilt. Which was fortunate as a fight erupted and the shrapnel of a table sprayed across the room. This was something that's been missing from Kestri. A spirit lost.

A good drink IS hard to find and he still had his untouched Tithaar, he has grown up a lot but still, his inner Teenager peeked through in selfishness, so he shook his head but was willing to buy a new one for Gailen Keldau.

<"Yes, I will get you one.">

 

[Domina Prime]

{ Thonn Rokkal | Kalðr Ísbjørn | Morgan Keldau }



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From behind the xenos helm those many eyes shifted back and forth over the many social gatherings of the swathes of mandos around her. She noticed how some appeared to travel in a group while others stuck to themselves, clans had gathered. As many that were willing to congregate during such turbulent and unpredictable times. Dima herself felt rather singular despite being surrounded by those she instinctively on a base, primitive level recognized as 'family', as her 'hive'.

And despite that, she often watched as many Mandalorians squabbled nipped and barked at once another on a near constant basis. The clans whose blood feuds began in times long past and still survived with a burning ire to this very era, and with the constant booming roars and cheers from the games in the coliseum ahead there was undoubtedly grudge matches between rival clans or someone just looking to show their might and dominance over their fellow vod. It was all so excitingto her of course! But in the same breath Dima rarely felt malicious intent towards her cousins nor engaged too heavily in violent behavior against them due to her hive nature. The constant sparring regiments with The Drillmaster however tended to get a little...dicey, but even then growing up the young alien only ever saw those as 'games' more than training. Like how animals play, she treated it very similar~

In-fighting was never something her kind saw as particularly useful. But then again, if there was something EVERYONE around Dima always made clear, it was that she still had a lot to learn. Socially, culturally and spiritually.

Whatever the kark that nonsense even meant!

"Hey! Before we head to the games, did you want to grab some grub? You were complaining the whole flight here about wanting to see Von again and have some of his famous-"

"Squid Soup!?" Dima gasped, almost setting herself in a trance at the mention of her favorite kestri meal. One of the only meals she could get that were...well...alive. Something humans tended to avoid in their meals.

Her belly rumbled and snarled as if it were a slumbering beast of its own.

"C'mon darlin, says here on the database he co-runs one of the better establishments these days~" X9 redirected them, drifting off and splitting from the small and large gathering of Mandos still heading up towards the arena to spectate the games. Of course it did not take long for Dima to find the doors of said tavern, a joint that held all the delightful hallmarks of a mandalorian bar as the doors opened for a new stranger.


A man was flyin- no, falling, and with NO style to be observed landing ungracefully across the room, causing quite the stir among those who were already inside as Dima just stood in the door quietly, grimacing and unsure what she had just walked herself into. Sharp claws clutched the special, shiny box that was gifted to her and stepped deeper inside, lifting a leg and nudging a toppled over chair or two out of her path. "Greetings and salutations cousins!" Dima boomed boisterously, lifting one of her free hands to wave rather childishly at those in the tavern while heading towards the front as if she had not wandered into a random bar brawl, slightly disrupting the vibe. Appearing to shift her visors gaze towards Gailen Keldau and squinted curiously as her eyes examined him, taking in his finer features despite having been flung about. "You there! Pretty human boy~ Where is Von and my Squid Soup?" Dima cooed warmly before also quickly noticing Vulcan Krayt and gasping audibly as all four of those large, alien arms suddenly reached out rather violently to ATTEMPT to snatch Vulcan into a massive, bear-like hug if he'd even allow such a thing to happen.

"Oh Vulcan! Darling boy where have you been precious!? Have you been dropping any of those stinky cheesy bombs on the faces of your foes!?" She would shout cackling and twisting Vulc about with a sing song tone, Dimas mind briefly remembering the time she, he, and...a handful of other foundlings at the time ran through Kestri causing...political strife between the younger mandos and the established veterans and elders.

The beast of a lady purred deeply at the memory of chaos and laughter. It was lovely as always to recognize at least a single face among the strangers, even though she still wore her helm though she had a feeling Vulcan would not take long to recognize the Xeno either.

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[Yael Kandar]

OUTFIT: x
PROXIMITY: Domina Prime | Gailen Keldau | Morgan Keldau | Kalðr Ísbjørn | Thonn Rokkal | Vulcan Krayt
TAG: Open

TOR VALUM, KESTRI, WILD SPACE

One perk of getting promotion to a Chaaj is a freedom of movement like I never experienced before. Back when I was still a Hibir, I had to attend classes and report to the Alor and any other caregivers. Besides, there is also my adoptive family that, I know that it comes from a place of love, always try to monitor my whereabouts. But, coincidentally with my 'graduation', this is also my 18th birthday. So, after a breakfast with the family, I am free to do anything I want to do, and I decided to head to Tor Valum. My family lives in the suburbs of the capital, so it doesn't take too long. Right after I made it there, I headed directly to a bar.

Just as I entered the bar, I was greeted by a fight between two Mando'ade. Of course, it's not a Mandalorian establishment without a good 'ol barfight. It's a part of the culture that I would never get used to, but I can tolerate. I looked straight to the bartender while walking towards the bar, avoiding any eye-contact from other patrons. I avoided sitting on the bar, seeing how crowded it is with strangers, and decided to just lean on it while ordering my drink. I gave the bartender a sign for one Tihaar, silently. I looked around once more, only to see a loud, obscenely large Mando trying to bear-hug an inversely small Mando. It seems like the establishment is filled with Mando'ade from older generations for now. I also haven't noticed anyone from the Mandokarla, but it's not like I expected anyone to be here. I can recognize a couple of Keldau, but no one I've interacted with personally, or that I remember of.

It didn't take long for the bartender to hand in my Tihaar, so I snatched the glass and took it to a corner seat, hoping that I didn't take any attention. Unlikely, but one can hope. This is the part of the day where I take off my helmet. I don't usually like to do that. I know that I don't look much of a fighter, and I hate nothing more than those curious, borderline insulting looks. But today, I just wanted to celebrate my 18th birthday on my own, so I took it off and sipped on my glass.

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[Shakka Bralor]

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Planet: Kestri
Location: Tor Valum

Equipment:Equipment In Bio
She listened to the whine of the turbines spool down for a moment like her the old gunship wasn't nearly as young as it used to be. She shook her head before stepping down off the Song's loading ramp and heading into the city. It had been a long time since she had been back Kestri and Tor Valum. She followed the noise to the cantina where she spotted a group of Mando'ade being Mando'ade she laughed to herself and moved to a table to watch signalling the bar tender for a pint as she made her way over.

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[Red Mobius]

Wearing: Hide of Nar Kreeta

Armed with: Master of Ceremonies


Objective: Explore Kestri.


Earlier:


Red, as always, was hard at work at the Forge when the vision came.

She blamed the constant pounding of her hammer against the metal for inducing it. Normally, forge work kept the visions away. So it was an unpleasant surprise, to say the least, when the world melted away in front of her and she was left in a desert that was perpetually on fire, wandering with her large hammer, thoughts hazy, slow running like tree sap on a cold morning. Where was she? Why was she seeing this?

She had seen a vision of the Enclave's collapse, but had not understood it at the time. Even if she had, she would not have warned of it, lest she be seen as crazy, or worse, Force Sensitive.

She never liked the visions. She had never once liked them in the slightest.

Still, they occasionally proved useful.

She tensed as she walked flaming sands, spotting the bronze armored Mandalorian that usually showed in her visions, clearly a male this time, and he silently beckoned the confused blacksmith to follow her.

And follow she did. Confused. It seemed she was there for days. The Mandalorian in Bronze was stalwart, unyielding in his march across burning sands. She struggled to keep pace, never ceasing her movement. Her throat begged for water, her legs begged for rest. But she kept pace with her guide.

At last he stopped, pointing.

Too exhausted to speak by this point, and too weak to do much except crawl on her hands and knees, staring at the ghastly site of an entire ocean of Mandalorian corpses, lakes of flies buzzing around each corpse. The smell of death wafted across the air like a sailboat. As she stared, she realized all of her own clan was amongst the dead.

Red was frightened. She looked at her guide.

"Is this something that will happen?" Red asked him in a dry, scratchy voice that hurt her to use.

He pointed again, and Red stared at the sight of a woman in white, cackling. Red recognized her as Laertia Io . The mad Dark Jedi who had finally revealed herself to be completely and totally insane, perhaps driven mad by a combination of horrors. Red knew and cared not. This was the second time she had seen a vision related to this fiend. And now this time it involved the fate of her clan...

"W-what must I do? How do I stop her?" Red asked.

The ground fell out from under her and she fell through golden flames that didn't burn.

As she fell, she beheld a gate of dark rock with blue veins running across the surface, shining out from the clouds

The Door. You must reach it... a million voices called out to her as she fell.

Red snapped out of the vision, stumbling backward in fright, hyperventilating as she got away from the heat of her forge...


Present...


Red didn't often come to Kestri, but after the vision she had needed an excuse to get away from the rest of her clan for a while, so she had come to Kestri to clear her head. It was serious enough she was even willing to ask one of the Mandokarla what it meant.

For now though, she transported the products of her clan's company, mainly ingots of Mobius Steel, and Kebiin Gal, her clan having set up an outpost in Tor Valum. Since the Enclave's collapse, business had exploded, along with recruitment numbers. Clan Mobius was very quiet about that last part. They were always quiet when getting more recruits.

Red entered the bar, after three hours of setting up a Mobius Surplus Works warehouse, saw two fighting, sighed under her helmet, and found an empty table, ignoring the looks from others, signaling the Bartender for a glass of Tihaar.

"It is enough we fight the Galaxy..." she muttered, not realizing she was in earshot of Yael Kandar

"Must we fight over spilled drinks? My father would have chewed me out for throwing hands over a drink..."