Ijaat
The wind sang its mournful tune as it whipped through the crumbling ruins of what was once a thriving city. Dayn Wren, a Mandalorian warrior, stood amidst the debris, his hand resting lightly on the grip of his blaster. His armor, a patchwork of old and battered durasteel, protested as he shifted his weight, its joints protesting the strain.
Above, the sky raged with dark clouds, the occasional bolt of lightning illuminating the desolate landscape in a burst of white-hot light. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and burning metal, an indication of recent destruction.
Dayn had been tracking a Sith on Serroco, and the latest clue had led him to this ruined city. As he surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of his quarry, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that some malevolent force had recently been at work.
The Mandalorian code he had been raised on stated unequivocally, "No Sith, no exceptions." And so, he was willing to do whatever it took to bring the Sith to justice. But the bounty on the Sith's head was another heavy motivation for the impoverished warrior.
Dayn was no stranger to danger, having faced Sith before, but as he stood in the ruins of the city, surrounded by thunder and destruction, he couldn't shake the sense of unease. He knew he had to proceed with caution and use all his cunning to succeed, yet there was no obvious clue left to him as to how to proceed.
Valery Noble
