Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Superstition

SHOGUN
[member="Entye Shysa"]​
For centuries Shogun had been a place of thought and contemplation for the Mando'ade.

Those that had gone through their verd'goten sometimes took a trip there, to think, to center themselves, to get an idea of what it meant to be Mandalorian. It was on Shogun, after all, that Ultimate found the inspiration to shape the culture of the Mando'ade into what it was today. It hadn't been a place that Ronan had ever been interested in.

Not after his verd'goten, never, until now.

He had needed some space to sort his mind and figure out what his next step would be. They were leaving Wayland, yes, but what would come after that?

Around him were crystals, large, small, they reflected light all around and bathed the cave in brilliant light. Even with his eyes closed and kneeling against the rough stone he could see them faintly. It was said that in this exact spot Mand'alor the Ultimate had first received his vision and had become a changed... Taung. Ronan doubted they'd be able to track down the exact cave after so many centuries, but the sentiment was appreciated regardless.

It was quiet.

The air clean and sharp.

He had been here for a few hours now after hiking alone up the mountain, but he wasn't any further in his thoughts yet. Maybe this had all been silly- footsteps?

His hand already went to his beskad.

Always at his side.
 
[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

A soft plume of white smoke trailed from scarred lips, a half-broken cigarra glowing softly in the approaching twilight, casting a set of harsh brown eyes with an orange glow as they critically surveyed their surroundings. From here to the horizon, and even beyond, there was nothing but fields upon fields of crystalline towers stretching in every direction. A sea of glimmering spires trapping the ephemeral vestiges of light from the setting sun. Weaving an illusion that the beholder was standing on entrance to another, more otherworldly realm. It was easy to see why such a setting could inspire mysticism even in the most cynical of cultures.

The cigarra blazed again, a second plume joining the first even as a wind sought to brush it aside.

Shogun.

She clicked her tongue sharply, adjusting the cloak that wrapped around her freshly black and gold lacquered shoulders. An auspicious setting for a meeting. For wider Mando’ade, it was a site of great revolution and cultural change. For Shysa, it would always be a site of tragedy. A poignant reminder of where its glory had faded so many centuries ago.

An intentional statement on Vizsla’s behalf, perhaps? He seemed the type, from all accounts. Put her on edge before they broke words. Unbalance your opponent, gain the advantage. For what, she could not begin to fathom. Mind still reeling from the events that had spun out of control since Kalad had ventured into the Sundari Palace. The image of his charred and broken pauldron, the largest part of his beskar’gam salvageable, still freshly seared into her memory.

Alor.

It was a title she never wanted, one she suspected she was not even suited to hold, yet the decision had been removed from her hands the moment the Hellwolf had taken her throne and declared herself the sole ruler. Forcing the title fall on the shoulders of an exile. A woman cast out from her own home on the weight of the Empire's crushing rule.

The cigarra smouldered one last time before it was cast aside, the trail of smoke vanishing between strides as she made the final leg of her journey. A cave opening laying up ahead in the settling gloom. The soul of the wounded beast that lay within shining out greater than any beacon fire ever could. It seemed she wasn’t the only one unbalanced. Good.

Vizsla!” She called out, the distinctive clipped tones of Concord Dawn accenting the name. The wind swirled a dust cloud up on the edges of her vision, but she paid it no more heed than her discarded cigarra. Gaze firmly locked on the entrance. “You called, I answered. Show yourself and let us be done with this place.
 
[member="Entye Shysa"]

The voice wasn't familiar to him, but then Entye had not been part of the Clans for close to half a decade now.

Before that a small voice in a stream of many loud ones.

Now elevated by combined tragedy and a shift in balance. "I am inside, Shysa." Not more than that. Just enough to say that she'd step inside, because Ronan was at a place where he needed the blazing light around him. Keep the shadows at bay as he pondered on the decisions he had made and would be making in the next few days. Only a fool would not be worried, only a fool would not wonder if this was the right path.

"His blade is next to to you."

Resting at the edge of the cavern was Kalad's beskad. It was scorched black from the heat and the wave of the explosion, but it was his. Ronan did not, as a rule lie, it was one of the few positive things his detractors could agree on.

He rose.

Turned.

Stretched the wear out of his knees and out of his shoulders. Vizsla and Shysa and Fett- those three names kept floating through his mind. How it was that those three names out of everyone would find themselves in unison? It was a minuscule chance and that meant something, if you'd believe certain people.

"The Empire my enemy and it is yours." Her force sensitivity was not a secret and her status as Alor meant something. "I aim to break the Mantis child's hold over Mandalore one piece at a time. You know why I asked you here."
 
[member="Ronan Vizsla"] was a man of few words.

Entye could respect that, even if those offered did little to set her mind at ease. There was a heavy storm lurking on the edges of the horizon, a raging tempest of black clouds and ill intent, yet it paled to the one she could sense forming within the force. Ripples and portents of the bloodshed of the days, weeks and even months to come.

Her part in it, and that of her clan, centered around the decisions made here and now, inside the cave that loomed like gaping mouth of the monstrous beast that threatened to swallow them whole with the slightest misstep. She shifted the cloak once more, stepping into the breach without a second glance. If the monster sought to make her a meal, she would just have to ensure it served as a final one.

"
You want to risk me and mine waging your war." She answered the rhetorical question curtly, her attention settling first on the man and then the blade that served as the cave's gatekeeper. It could have been Kalad's, it certainly held the distinctive shape favoured by the Shysa warsmiths, yet it had been years since she'd laid eyes on the man, let alone his weapons. Scattered memories from childhood before he, too, had returned to his exile. "The Empire has not labelled my clan an enemy, nor yours from what I hear. In fact, many of your own kowtow at the feet Hellwolf even as we speak."

There was no venom in her voice. No malice, just a simple statement of fact. Vizsla had proven to be a worthy enemy in the past, yet as a potential future ally it had lost its strength due to internal division and strife. Even if they were to be considered the weakest amongst the clan's numbers, the fact remained they had bolstered both the Empire and Mantis' rule with their support.

She reached for the blackened blade, armored fingers curling around the charred remains of the hilt.

"Tell me why I should throw my clan to the wolves over one man and your wounded pride."
 
[member="Entye Shysa"]

"I do." Ronan agreed calmly, a calm that had nothing to do with what shuddered through the Force at that confirmation. Almost as if it was keenly watching this moment, taking notes, weighing and measuring what the future would bring with just those two words. He didn't like any of this- before Zambrano he had prepared himself to burn the Empire to the ground on his own.

It would have been right.

His revenge, his war, his blood singing for vengeance.

It would have been his death, but that was acceptable. This was different and it mostly surprised Ronan when she claimed it was his pride that made him do this. Was that the truth of it?

His eyes left hers and instead studied the cavern walls and its crystals again. "One man? No. If this was about pride or about simple vengeance, I would not have called you here." Ronan had never wanted anyone to fight his battles for him. If this had been about Tamara's fate he would have done this himself. If Shysa knew even a little of him and his exploits, she would know this to be true.

"You knew why I called you and you came. The Mantis child and those that chose to support her-" Including the Vizsla elements. That thought caused him to frown, troubling how even they were allured by her now.

House Vizsla was large.

It only grew larger after Ra's ascension.

But Shysa was right, a fair amount of them had turned over to Yasha. They couldn't fight this war alone. "-they rot at our people. Weaken them. You will throw yourself and yours to the wolves, because a Shysa cannot stand on the sidelines, while Vizsla fights for their people." or maybe she could. Ronan didn't know Entye. Kalad had been somewhat of a known quantity to him, but this woman? Maybe she didn't have the same Shysa traits, maybe she didn't care. This had been a gamble. One that he believed had to be made, but one that made him uncomfortable anyway.

It reeked of politics.

Ronan hated politics.
 
[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

She hefted the beskad in her hand experimentally as he spoke, glancing down the length and width of the blade with the critical eye of someone that knows her trade. Perfect balance. Blackened, but not warped. The heat of Sundari might have finished its supposed owner, but it seemed to have only served to temper the weapon's fighting spirit.

"Hurl yourself from the cliff because everyone else is doing it." If the long journey out to this force forsaken planet hadn't already robbed her of her ability to do so, she might have offered a derisive laugh at that. Instead she simply restrained herself to a simple shake of her head, silver bells twinkling softly in a woven nest of dark hair. "That truly the argument you wish to make here?"

Her gaze flickered up from the weapon in hand, settling on the haggard features of a man that still felt the death of his daughter keenly. Tracing the lines of loss and anger that creased them like physical scars. The scent of pain and anguish practically rolling off him in droves. A good man might have offered him sympathy during this obviously trying time.

Entye was neither.


What she offered was worth more than false platitudes and saccharine pleasantries.

"
Shysa has already begun to mobilise." She let the blade fall to her side, "Within the next two coruscanti solar cycles, our major holdings on Concord Dawn and Vorp'aya will be evacuated, as will the rest of our territories within the Empire's sphere of control."

Like her ascension, that particular die had been cast the moment her predecessor had returned in an urn.

[SIZE=9pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]You see weakness in their reign. I see avarice. Untamed, uncontrolled, untenable. They turn it on our own just as easily as our enemies. Breaking faith and contract, worshiping false gods and holding themselves above both Resol'nare and Codex alike. They are nothing but rabid dogs feasting on our culture.[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]"

She gave another shake of her head and turned her back, watching the fast approaching storm clouds.
[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]You don't go to war with such creatures. You simply put them down.[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]"[/SIZE]
 
[member="Entye Shysa"]

"Good."

A different man might have argued against her or tried to amend her view on his perspective, but Ronan left it. He already had what he wanted, she was mobilizing them and he didn't enjoy to hear his voice too often. Too often and one might start to love it for the sound it made. Enough time another Yasha was birthed into the world. Actions spoke louder and meant more than that.

It was why if she had offered him platitudes, it wouldn't have been received well.

He followed her out, stepping up beside her and watching the storm with her.

Years ago Ronan would have looked at that storm and seen it just as that. Dark clouds and lightning, nature having its way. But her death had chipped at him, each minute, every day. It allowed his eyes to see something else there, a coming, a promise of what would come to be. But the real question was... was it their storm? Or was it what they would be up against?

"Vizsla offers its support. We have ships and we have people." The offer was made easy.

If this alliance was to exist, then it had to occur fully and there could be no picking and choosing. They were in this together or not at all.
 
[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

"And they will best served else where." Their purposes might have aligned for now, but a common goal could not erase centuries of grudges and blood feuds. On the battlefield, with an enemy before them, Shysa would fall in line without hesitation. Pressed into ships for extended period of time, tempers would naturally flare. "We have enough ships to see to our needs for now."

They had the loss of Bralsin at the hands of Mereel and Munroe to thank for that. A full quarter of the clan wiped out in a blink of an eye on the surface while their fleet watched on from above. Strange to think such a heavy blow would prove to be fortuitous in the long run, even if it had inadvertently paved the way to this very moment.

There was a rumble as the storm tried to announce its arrival, echoes of thunder reverberating through the crystal fields with an almost grim melodic quality even as the clouds above chased away the last of the light they'd contained.

"You should turn your energies to securing us new allies. It'll take more than just our two clans to unbalance the scales of battle that are before us.
" She gave an armored approximation of a shrug. Ronan hardly struck her as the diplomatic type, but his name would carry far more weight than a new appointed Alor fresh from exile. This revolt, this rebellion, needed a face. It was just a shame it was the scarred and lined one beside her. "Shouldn't prove too difficult. The Empire has no shortage of enemies, both among the Mando'ade and the Aruetiise."

She'd rather the former than the latter, but she was pragmatic.

Like all things in life, even Aruetiise had their time and place.
 
[member="Entye Shysa"]

The mention of Aruetiise made him scowl.

Soulless and useless, but Shysa was right.

The two of them alone could not handle the entire Mandalorian Empire. Not until some of their madness started to consume them from within anyway and that could take time. "Very well." It had been an offer, one he had assumed Shysa would need, but if they could handle it on their own? Much the better. Each party of this alliance would need to rely on themselves, especially in the beginning. They had to pull their own weight to start, showing the doubters that they were strong.

"I can convince Fett." Koda and his had already joined him on Wayland to burn the dead and remember their debt. His hunger was reflected in Koda, even if the man tried to push it down. Some men simply understood each other and even if he was a Fett?

It seemed that they had that understanding. "There are others that fight the Empire. They struck Myrkr a week back, before the Mantis child staked her claim." That would be a natural point to look at. He didn't know their numbers or their resolve, but they had taken the fight to the Empire already. The fact that they were forcers did not trouble Ronan anymore, as noted by the fact that he was talking to this Shysa right now. Rather than trying to rip her head off.

"Blatant aruetiise support would weaken our case."

If they had to pull in outsiders to stand a chance, then they had already lost.
 
[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

Fett. Shysa had seen their faith in that clan misplaced in the past, but it seemed that the present demanded old grievances be overlooked. The fact she was standing beside a Vizsla alone could testify to that. The loners, the betrayers and the exiled. As fine of a trio they would make, they’d still need more than three clans to balance the scales. The Empire was a pale reflection of the Clans' former glory, but it was still a major power within the galaxy.

It was her turn to scowl.

If you want this alliance to work, you can start by not putting words in my mouth.” The volume didn’t change, yet the tone of her voice shifted towards something steelier. Ronan was an accomplished warrior and battlemaster, with deeds to his name far out eclipsing her own, but it seemed he had achieved such storied accomplishments whilst operating under an extremely rigid view. That’d need to change. “You don’t need to befriend your beskad to make use of it. You don’t need to inform it of your intent when taking it up, either.

She hefted Kalad’s blade as if to illustrate her point.

With a deft hand, the Aruetiise can be manoeuvred much in the same way. Draw them into battle with the Empire, let them thin the numbers, distracting them while we change the odds in our favour.

Mantis had yet to move against Shysa, Fett or Vizsla for their part in what many were now calling the Red Coronation, but it would only be a matter of time once they realised that they were not about to fall in line. Yasha could ill afford the sparks of rebellion to spready through the clans, not when her rule had already proven to be shaky from the start.

I suggest you start with the Dar’jetii. The Dark Lord was there that day, yes? He must be questioning the strength and continued future of their alliance. Yasha has made it abundantly clear that she’s no friend of theirs. It shouldn’t prove to be difficult to drive a wedge deeper between them.
 
[member="Entye Shysa"]

A beskad wasn't an ally, it was a tool to be used.

She had been talking about allies... feth, Ronan hated this. All these half-meanings, dancing around what they wanted to say, metaphors... it wasn't for him. It was a waste of time, a little game of trying to one-up each other and catch one another in verbal misconceptions.

Useless.

"The Dark Lord has already made contact with me." Ronan informed her. That was the intent that showed Vizsla was serious about this alliance, rather than the mindless talking exhibited by others. He could have kept it quiet and to himself, because it had been secretive enough to do so. But there was no reason for it. "The Mantis child and hers acted mindlessly, but I had the impression Zambrano has no interest in showing his disapproval publicly. He will wait, until the risk for his Empire is at its smallest and then strike."

Which meant that Zambrano was useless to them.

But maybe it was possible to weaponize other Sith elements against the Mandalorian Empire. He couldn't imagine that some of the radical elements of the Sith would be happy about their Dark Lord's treatment.

"But there are others, with our recent incursion on Utapau they made fresh enemies."
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom