A Feast of Thanks (Mandos and friends)

[Strider Garon]

Strider tensed as the wolf reached for his boot blade. It was a combat reflex for the old man, wasn't that he did not trust [member="Preliat Mantis"], but the savage warrior was highly unstable and mentally in indescribable hell. When he placed the blade on the table before him and walked away with his final words, the old man had a gut wrenching feeling this could be the last time he set eyes on the Wolf. "Jate ret' vod!" He would whisper in his wake. He put a hand on the dagger, he had a heart to remove it from the table but instead just kept it there in sight.

The hound would refocus from the leaving wolf towards the amazon, [member="Basaba Willamina"] . She nodded towards him and he returned in kind with a friendly smile. This party was shaping up proper, friends and family moving in by the scores.

Strider looked at the new soldier, [member="Krenis Skirata"] , hovering about the table, anxious to figure proper seating like the new kid on the block trying to find his way. The old man grinned and pointed to the seat to his left "Come vod! Sit by me" He would gently command, there was no formal seating process for this was a table of friends and family and all were equal. Plus, with the new soldier at his side he could use the chance to get to know him better.

Strider would look towards his son, [member="Aden Dral"] and his young 'friend' [member="Mesh'la Hokan"] . "Yes, yes she did bring pie" he would smile. "Mesh'la! My home is your home, Vor entye!"

His daughter, [member="Satine D'ulin"] , and grandchildren had entered. The old man lit up like a Christmas tree and rose from his chair, looked over at Krenis with a apologetic look "I will be right back, vod!"

With a few steps he glided across the floor and and knelt down to his knees. he could feel his joints disagreeing with such action but the mission at hand was worth every ounce of pain. He gripped both his grandkids in a backbreaking embrace of pure love. The two would squirm but he held them long before letting them loose. He would rise to his feet and give his daughter a fatherly embrace, gently and a kiss on the forehead. "Welcome home!"

[member="Anija Betna"] and her young daughter entered. Now that was a sight to be had. Clan Betna and Garons have had been on thin ice this last year. It warmed his heart to see them show up, this was a grand start to repairing relations especially with the forecast of hard times coming for the mando'ade. The only way for their people and clans to survive will be to unite, set aside differences and work in collaboration for their preservation and, Strider looked at the child, the future of all of them.

Strider would move towards her, extending his arm for a traditional hand shake but half way moved it towards a hug instead. "Thank you for accepting my invite. You and your clan are welcomed here" He declared and then gazing upon her daughter. It had been ages since he laid eyes on her, a spitting image of her mother and as beautiful as ever. She had seen dark times, If strider did not know before hand, such could be seen in the way she held herself. Seemed warriors were getting younger by the years. "You make sure your mother stays to a five drink minimum" He smiled in jest "Heard she was a party animal in the day!"


[member="Conner Garon"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Mesh'la Hokan"]

Mirshko wasn't far behind her mother, and she scanned the room out of pure habit. It was reflex now, whether she was among family and friends or otherwise. She'd definitely learned the hard way what trust truly meant. And it still stung like a fresh dagger to the gut at times. As she looked around, she noticed several other kids her age, or close to it. She nodded, and threw a shy wave towards Mesh'la and Aden. It had been a while since she'd seen either of them.

She watched closely as the older Field Marshal approached her mother, and she saw Anija stiffen for a moment as Strider changed tactic and wrapped her in a hug instead. Not that Mirshko could blame her mother for that reaction, really. She'd heard the whispers over the past year. Relations between the two clans had been.. tense at best. She wasn't sure why. Nor was she sure she wanted to know. Perhaps it was best not to. As mother said many times, moving on from one's past could only make one stronger for it.

It was certainly true in Mirshko's case. She'd spent six months in captivity with the pirates. And it was not something she ever wanted to relive. Nor would she wish it on anyone. Escaping had taken all of her courage and skill, and she could never stop thanking [member="Elpsis Kallikora"] for her part in it, either. She was fairly certain she was driving the other young lady crazy with it by now. But she didn't care. What mattered was that she was home now because of her help.

At Strider's statement regarding the drinks, she regarded him warily, her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to figure out what he meant. She got the distinct feeling he was sizing her up as much as she was him. "I wasn't aware she was such a lightweight, Field Marshal..." she attempted to deadpan in reply. Whether it worked or not remained to be seen. A slightly raised eyebrow in his direction, and she hefted the food basket in her arms. "I've got some food here. A pie, and a roast. Where should I put them?"

 

[Alleycat]

The next people to arrive for [member="Strider Garon"]'s feast of thanks were none other than her aunt and cousins. [member="Satine D'ulin"] was married to her biological father's younger brother, [member="Nolan Detta"]. She was also one of Stri'buir's many children like [member="Aden Dral"]. Small world. Mesh'la got up from her spot at the table and walked over to greet her extended family. She waited until the old hound had gotten his welcoming over with, then slid in and gave her aunt a hug.

"Su cuy'gar, Ba'vodu Satine… It is good to see you guys," the young Detta-Hokan smiled up at the tall brunette, then gave a quick tousle of her young cousins's hair in good cheer before going back to her spot.

The door opened and another pair came in. This time it was Field Marshal [member="Anija Betna"] and her daughter. Mesh'la waved back excitedly to [member="Mirshko Betna"]. It had been a while since she had last seen her friend. When they were done talking with Stri'buir, she motioned for the young brunette to come sit with her and Aden.

[member="Conner Garon"] [member="Krenis Skirata"] [member="Basaba Willamina"]

 

[The Traveler]

[member="Mirshko Betna"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Satine D'ulin"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Aden Dral"] [member="Mesh'la Hokan"] [member="Krenis Skirata"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="Conner Garon"]


For a thousand years he that was death and removed from dying had treaded the galaxy, hunting and killing and doing as he pleased. He had served many Mandalores in his day, the mighty Jaster Mereel was most famous amongst them. Sith lord, Mandalorian Patriot, Darmanda and now Primeval Warlord. That was which he was now, something that was nothing and everything amongst his ori'vod. Enemy and friend alike, the one who had laid claim to Wayland and was in the process of restoring it to its grace. It seemed odd that he would come to this place filled with blood enemies and heated rivals.

Oh but was the task of the dead to support the living, to support that which he had known's fathers, fathers, father , father. Many generations he had known of many of the upstarts, though some in mere passing and many in depth as lovers of a long lost relative. Heck he could even have been the ancestor of some of them, but that was for historians to figure out as he was far removed from keeping up with his kindred spawn.


"Strider" he said simply through the voice amplifier as he entered beside the man. His hellhound armor beckoning for blood and death as he surveyed the assembled. " There isn't a looker amongst the ori'vod anymore. When i rode with your Great, Great, Great, Great aunt .... thats a story you may not want to hear" he said with a metallic chuckle.

 

[Krenis Skirata]

[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Satine D'ulin"] [member="Aden Dral"] [member="Mesh'la Hokan"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="The Traveler"]

Krenis gave a nod of greeting as Mesh'la introduced him to those around nearby. He knew their names. Not their first names, their own, specific identities, but their surnames and clans. He had known many of them long before. Old friends, old comrades. All dead now. He could see them though, men and women clustered around the edges of the room, some armored and some not. Faces wearied by war and oppression, but confident in them and their family. Other memories superimposed themselves. Battles, explosions, many of those same faces being cut down by blaster bolts or blades, torn apart by explosions.

He only half heard Strider's words, but sank to the seat behind him with a distant smile as he tried to claw himself back to the present, nodding as the man went to visit his family. The visions vanished and he slumped in his seat, resting his head on his hands for a moment before looking up again. That was a different ache. What would it be like to have a family like that, with wife and children? Had any of his brothers managed that before they died? Or had they lived the rest of their lives bound to the Galactic Empire and its iron fist? Something tugged at him again. Despite their treachery, he hoped they had gotten that, if only for a little while.

But he eyed the newcomer as he entered. Very odd, that one. It was what his instinct was telling him, however. But he would wait it out and see how the hosts responded.

 

[Myra'di]

She'd arrived late, it seems. She hadn't been to the Garon homestead, at least not to her cognitive memory. Perhaps when she was a wee young one, riding on her fathers shoulders, with tiny fingers gripping his mane to keep steady. But, that was many, many years past. Over two decades easily.

She had arrived from her Aliit's farming valley specifically to respond to [member="Strider Garon"]'s invitation. She, and her brothers, and various other members of the Na'gr-Naskar Aliit were present when the missive came in, but the heads were not. Neither was her husband, or she would have surely brought him with her. She knew it would be significantly more offensive to have not come to represent her family, and send a generic declination reply to the invitation. She brought with her a basket of fresh fruits from the recent harvest. They traveled better over distance.

Ascending the stairs to the front of the house, Myra took a steadying breath. She was never really one for social pleasantries and gatherings, unless [member=Dilios] was there with her. But, the Mando'ade did what he must, and she supported him fully. She was more disappointed she didn't get to go with him than anything.

Straightening her dress quickly, a simple white one, she left anything she didn't need back in her speeder. One more pat down, and she braced herself, basket in hand, as she gave a firm knock on the door, making sure it was a loud one given the volume of the occupants within. Hopefully the memory of her buir would grant her a warm welcome in Strider's home.

 

[Judah Lesan]

The house was getting full, and Aden was getting a bit crowded. It was good though. He and [member="Mesh'la Hokan"] were not the only ones there of their age, and to see there was more family there warmed his heart. It was a bit awkward to see that his half sister was also Mesh'la's aunt, but not more than that. With all the comotion Aden got lost in the excitement, but was ready for the festivites. As usual, Mesh'la was a good host introducing people. He just watched her be herself, and admired her all the more for it. If only he could express to the table how thankful he was for her, but that would defeat the whole purpose of their secret. Though it seemed obvious what was going on.

"I keep meeting more family, and friends. This is going to be fun as long as you all wait until after dessert to test how much alcohol you can handle."

Aden knew he was on kid duty so the adults could have some more adult funn later.

"Mesh'ika I can't wait to get that blackberry pie I think. They're already joking about drink minimums."

[member="Mirshko Betna"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Krenis Skirata"]

 

[Strider Garon]

[member="The Traveler"] had arrived, for most this would cause pause. To most he was an enemy but for the very few that new what was behind the mast they would see a vod. And here he was, proving his friendship with clan Garon and long lasting standing with Strider himself. The old would nod in his direction "Welcome!" His word was simple and straight to the point. The traveler and the identity he held dear was a friend today and will be able to sit at the Garon table unmolested or harmed.

Then there was a knock at the door. Strider would move past few of his guests to answer. Opening the large wooden doors he would see a very attractive woman on the other side. Clad in a beautiful white dress with curves to fit it, the old man could barely contain himself. The inner hound wanted to bay, but this woman was a guest to a feast and not some tavern wench to be played with. He had recognized her from clan Na'gr Naskar, but he had not formally met her face to face. "Welcome to my home, I am Strider Garon!" He would introduce, knowing full well that most of the mando'ade would know the legendary warrior, but it was just politeness and it would trigger a ressponse in kind that would inform Strider of the beauty's name.

 

[Long Gone]

Impressions of her grandfather as of late were somewhat less appealing than they used to be – ever since the incident on Myrkr, she had grown apart from him…farther than one might have anticipated. If one were to couple that with her sudden up and disappearance from the known universe for a brief time, then this would make the sudden visit a bit awkward in the mind of the Rekali/Garon/Gyndar kid. Damned if she wasn’t some mutt that came from several lineages of several Mandalorian families. Her attire was something simple – a black bodysuit that was separated by a rather unique utility belt and of course, two lightsabers clipped to each side and slung low. Black gloved hands would trace the edges of the pommel as she stared with a garnet colored eye up at the massive doors that opened briefly and exposed [member="Strider Garon"] as he greeted a woman in white. She blinked softly, her cybernetic eye concealed behind a patch of course – yet something else that would create a bit of awkwardness between the two of them.

For a moment, she felt a stinging sensation somewhere in her heart. Growing up, she loved her Papa Garon more than anything in the world – just as much as she loved her father, now she felt as if she barely knew him.

Was it because of all that had transpired?

She wasn’t sure of the answer, how could she be. She felt the same when she looked at her mother for the first time after she returned to Sullust. Maybe in all the chaos that was surrounding the Galaxy and everything she had endured, she forgot who she truly was. That seemed doubtful in the grand scheme of things, as she remembered her encounter with that silly boy [member="Liam Quez"] – he hadn’t changed a bit and only reminded her of who she was. Mira sighed heavily and casually walked up the steps, and with each thud of her boot against the permacrete, an overwhelming burden of guilt washed over her. She hadn’t visited her grandfather since she returned – she rejected him and everything he stood for after Myrkr – now here she was.

She was different, less childish than who she was before – a bit more humbled and mature from her experiences. Her head would remain bowed and low as she listened to him greet the woman before her, remaining patient and quiet – waiting politely for recognition from him.

 

[Alize Rosenheim]

It had been a while since Artesia last attended a feast, years in fact. Social events had not been high on her priority since she left home nor did she enjoy the social events held by her aunt and uncle. There was little one can do outside of conversing with others, dancing and eating at those events. Anyone who has met her understood very well that conversation was not her forte. There was little a mute could contribute in a conversation, although she could type up what she wanted to say quickly on a DataPad which she was never without, it did not match the speed of another’s speech. However, her situation has changed now, her survival depended on herself and only a fool would reject a friendly offer of food and drinks.

Artesia entered the large wooden double doors into the dining hall. She could tell that the head of the household, who she assumed was [member="Strider Garon"] spared no expense when it came to the festivities. Feeling a little out of place, Artesia made her way towards one of the tables of food in hope of blending in with the other guests.

 

[Myra'di]

That soft smile would dance across her face, taking some of the fabric of the dress in hand as she lowered her head slightly, giving a polite and delicate curtsy to [member="Strider Garon"]. "The Legend himself. I am Myra'di Naskar, of the Na'gr Naskar Aliit." The Firrerreo would continue smiling, returning her eyes back up to the larger Mando'ade's eyes. She gave the air of meekness in mannerism, but she showed her true personality in her boldness to maintain eye-contact with a mighty warrior of such renown. She was a descendant of might warriors, of a mighty warrior people, of a might warrior race. She was a warrior herself, and as such, could only expect a proper warriors respect by giving said respect first.

She brought her basket around to her front. It was quite the basket indeed, with a vast quantity of fruit to choose from. Her offering for this gathering was simple, but was more than an individual of her size of most other races to be able to carry with the ease she showed. Her smile widened more into a grin, as one of her elongated canines poked out of the corner of her grin, over her bottom lip. "Where would you like me to place these?" She asked, head tilting slightly towards her right shoulder. Her golden skin contrasted dramatically with the white dress, and it's limited length of sleeve and skirt revealed a fair number of silver-toned scars upon her legs and arms. The woman bore her marks with pride, and the colors caused by her Firrerreo heritage made for a more dramatic appearance.

 

[The Angry Cheese]

Not too far from the structure, away from other ships yet still in plain sight, Tracinya was readjusting his helmet before he mounted his JR-4. Thoughts of the incoming meeting rushed through his head, silent fears and doubts. Would he fit in there? Was he coming too heavily armored? Unlikely, for either answer. But, one question was the most important.

Would they accept someone who was never born or adopted into a clan?

This was his primary thought, his fear, even as he mustered the courage to actually mount the JR-4 and speed off towards the mansion. He was already here, they had more than likely seen the unique, if not aged, Kom'rk-class fighter landing near them. To just immediately take off again would create no small amount of suspicion, and they may end up thinking he an enemy spy. Even now, they may be suspicious of someone who only took the name of Mando'ade upon himself ever since his earliest memories, when he had always had the same armor and weapons. Of course, he had only been able to wear the armor when he was seventeen, when he reached his full adult size.

As he quickly came upon the house, he swerved the back end of the speeder out to the side when he came to a stop, causing him to do a 'drift' just before he powered down the swoop bike. Yeah, she was an old girl, but everything in his arsenal was at least 700 years old. He must have been doing something right to survive this long in this chaotic galaxy.

Stepping off the swoop, he looks around at all the different people and foods that were entering the building, or were conversing outside. Standing off to the side, he casually walks up the steps and nods at a few others as he passes them by. The smell of good food was glorious. If he remembered his manners, he may very well fit in.

[member="Myra'di"] [member="Artesia Vereen"] [member="Mira Rekali"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Aden Dral"] [member="Krenis Skirata"] [member="Mesh'la Detta Hokan"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="Mirshko Betna"]

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Mesh'la Detta Hokan"] [member="Mira Rekali"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Aden Dral"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="The Traveler"]

She would have said more, but there were others coming in behind them, and she moved politely to the side to let them by. it seemed the Garon homestead was going to be the destination for the evening... and perhaps the next day or so for some. She frowned slightly. She'd never been a fan of crowds. Especially since she'd come home. And so, she kept close to Mom. Not being a hanger-on, but more out of a feeling of... vulnerability. And she didn't care what others might think about it.

It was as she was scanning the room out of habit that she caught the eye of [member="The Traveler"]. She didn't know him, at least that she knew of, but she had an odd feeling that he knew Mom somehow. He seemed to stay close by to her. Mirshko wasn't sure what to think of that, but she didn't feel anything ... off about him. Shrugging it off mentally, she turned towards the other side of the room as she caught a flash of motion.

When she saw who it was, she couldn't help grinning. Mesh'la and Aden had been some of her first friends after returning home. And she was still cautious about what she told them. She didn't think they needed to know her secret. Feth, even Mom and Da didn't know all the details. Though Mom had pieced together quite a bit one her own. She frowned slightly then, and then shook her head. She was here to have fun. Murmuring something to Mom, she ducked away from the adults and moved across the room with the food basket still in her arms as she approached Mesh'la and Aden.

 

[Strider Garon]

[member="Myra'di"] , Strider would remember that name, for it was the label he could place upon the gorgeous woman in white. The old pervert would smile and nod to her in acceptance after she introduced herself. She also had brought fruit basket, the table was filled as it was but food would never go to waste in this vheh'yaim. Especially with the company at hand. "You can place the basket somewhere on the table or close by. My bar is open, grab a drink of your liking and snag a seat and enjoy all that is to be had!"

[member="Tracinya be Gra'tua"] , Strider had not had the pleasure to have had met this mandalorian warrior but he was pleased to see him here. The gathering was growing far past his own expectations. This was a good. Strider would wave Tracinya in "Come, enjoy the drink and food. My home is your home!"

That was when another delightful female sight had shown up, [member="Artesia Vereen"] . Like a good Mando'ad she had quickly found her way to the table of food. The old man made sure to catch up to her late for introduction. But there was another that needed his attention first.... [member="Mira Rekali"] , his granddaughter had shown up. She was a sight for sore eyes for he had not seen her in ages. Strider knew she went through hell and back and he felt guilty that he was not the one rescuing her. He had no excuse for it. He had outright failed the girl. Part of him died inside with that knowledge, but here she was. That was a sign for sure.

The old man would move towards her, his eyes filled equally with sadness and joy. He would grip the the grown girl in a mighty hug of pure affection. Maybe not one he deserved or earned to give but there it was, a grandfather's embrace to his little bird. "I have missed you, Mir'ika!" His voice whispered into her ear, his voice sincere and apologetic. The long in toothed warrior would pull back from Mira "Where is your mother and father?"

 

[Vilaz Munin]

The last feast he ever attended was the the wedding of Preliat and his bride. It was a decent gathering of Warriors of different clans attending the wedding of the feared Wolf. Ever since then, his gatherings were taken to the bar with some well known Mandalorians that he gambled and drank with. He had lost count of his win-loss ratio, not from the alcohol but of the many games he had participated. If he ever did lose which cost him all the credits he brought to the table, then he could easily regain them from doing bounties.

He was at the door of the Garon homestead with a box of beers brewed by the Betna clan. He hoped that the alcohol would pay for his tardiness. He knocked at the door, three times, and waited for someone to welcome him to the building.

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Alleycat]

"Well when there is a nice break in the feast and/or Bessie needs me, you may escort me home… I'd like that actually," the young blonde said flashing a sweet smile [member="Aden Dral"]'s way as the male teen sat next to her at the table. He very well knew her buire weren't there and they'd have some quiet time for the two of them. That is if the pregnant ewe in the Hokan's barn didn't go in to full labor, then Mesh'la would have her hands full, literally.

Meshl'a noticed the her friend [member="Mirshko Betna"] was still quite skittish around people other than her buir. She knew that the young girl had been kidnapped, but all the details hadn't been shared. And, that was okay because it had to have been the most scariest of times; a nightmare no doubt, but Mesh somehow wanted to convey that if Mirshko ever needed someone to talk to she'd be there for her with no judgement just an ear and shoulder if needed.

"Hi Mirshko… I'm glad you came. It's been a while since we all got together. What have you been up to lately?" she asked friendly like after scooting over towards Aden to make room for the young brunette to sit down on the bench next to them.

[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Tracinya be Gra'tua"] [member="Myra'di"] [member="Artesia Vereen"] [member="Mira Rekali"] [member="Myra'di"] [member="Krenis Skirata"] [member="Conner Garon"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Myra'di]

Myra'di smiled and nodded to the legendary Mando'ade, though her smile warmed greatly seeing him greeting what she assumed was either a young daughter, or an older grand-daughter, judging by the age difference between the two, and the severity with which he embraced the younger. A true warrior loved as fiercely as they fought. She knew this well.

The woman paused as she was preparing to carry her burden towards the tables where the food lay, hearing the tell-tale knock of another arrival. "I'll get that for you, alor." She'd call out, her surprisingly sweet voice ringing across the boisterous gathering. Reaching the door, she'd hold the impressively loaded basket with one hand, as the other grabbed the door. [member="Vilaz Munin"], a fellow Mando'ade unknown to Myra'di, was on the opposite side of the door. She'd deliver a winning smile, that elongated canine poking out just slightly over her bottom lip. "Greetings!" the woman cried out warmly. He brought beer, and what party could go without more beer? No party worth being at! "I believe things are just starting to get into the swing of it, burc'ya! Come, I'm certain you're welcome," she'd say warmly, before giving a playful wink, "... and in the off chance you aren't, I do not doubt the hosts potential for crowd control."

Stepping aside, she'd let the door swing close after Vilaz moved into the room. Where he went from there was on him, but for now, the gentle warrior would make her way to drop off the fruit basket at the food table. After doing so, a handful of cloudberries was taken from the basket. Popping one or two at a time, she'd smile with great pleasure as she burst the skin of the berries, the sweet juices flooding her mouth, the flavor unmistakable. They were, after all, her favorite. She grew this batch herself.

[member="Mesh'la Detta Hokan"] | [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Mirshko Betna"] | [member="Tracinya be Gra'tua"] | [member="Artesia Vereen"] | [member="The Traveler"] | [member="Aden Dral"] | [member="Krenis Skirata"]

 

[Alize Rosenheim]

With a plate of food in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, Artesia headed to the corner of the room, hoping to avoid others who were in attendance and therefore, conversation by association. Aside from those she was already acquainted with and people she had to interact with for business purposes, Artesia liked to avoid communicating with people altogether.

Depending on the amount of charge left on the battery of her HoloLink, a small device that functioned as a wrist mounted DataPad Artesia either communicated through typing what she had to say to others on it then have an electronic voice read it out or enabling the projector properties and have her words projected in to the air. The font and the colour of the words she used to communicate with others varied depending on her mood. Written words did not show the same amount of emotion as spoken words so this was one way she used in attempt to communicate the feelings behind her words to those she ‘spoke’ to.

 

[The Traveler]

Like a wolf amongst the sheep he prowled first around the room his eye keen toward all those that were assembled and all that might think a chance at the warlord a tasty offering. Few knew who... what... no, his identity was secret and those assembled would be in horror if it ever became known. That was his curse and his tiding now, that was what his quest demande dof him and it was what he deemed appropriate for now. The Traveler took his focus away for a moment and moved towards one of the younger members, he could feel the familiarity and he could sense the bond. That was one of the tricks of the force, one of the tricks of being ancient and one of the benefits of knowing all.

[member="Mirshko Betna"] He moved towards her even as she moved towards the others assembled, all of them minor players in a greater game. Pawns upon the board to be used and to be discarded, though even the most insignificant of pawns could become a power player in the right hands. " You look like her, though something... is different. You do not have the Ordo .. purity. Maybe its the advanced soul, the terror in your heart or perhaps its... the way you carry yourself. So sure yet so...unnerved... Confident bet yet... swayed... Oh the secrets you have child, the secrets you keep" he said as he read her aura. His philosophical cantering speech was not to be used here as it just muddied the brains of his kin for the most part " Hmm, i am impressed to be honest... A story unwritten and a ballad unsung hangs around you. Great and yet somewhat obscured, like the mouse who befriended the lion." his hand rubbed the metallic plating of his helmet as he thought.

" Hmm ".

 

[Judah Lesan]

"Sounds good! You know, I've never seen the homestead this full of people. I wonder if Stri'buir invited the entire city of Keldadlbe?"

Aden had a moment of distractedness. His mind was definitely on the fact Mesh'la's Buire were not home, but also the fact he couldn't shake the feeling [member="Strider Garon"] had another reason for inviting all these people. There strangers in the yaim which Aden had never met, or his buir had met. This was odd, unless Strider was just feeling that benevolent this time of year.

Mesh'la had a friend there, which was good. Aden remebered hearing something about her getting kidnapped, but he was not going to pry. It wasn't his business, nor did he know the girl well enough to ask about the matter. This was a time to give thanks not open old wounds. There were other days in the coming year where wounds would be opened, but not this day.

Aden noticed the dark stranger moving toward [member="The Traveler"]. The man seemed to be talking nonsense of what Aden could hear, and he nudged Mesh'la.

"This guy creeps me out, I hope I don't do something stupid because of it," he reached under the table and gave Mesh'la's hand a squeeze. They were still hiding the reality of their growing relationship after all. "Let's eat quickly then we can go check on Bessie, and eat that pie you held back for me."

@Mesh'all Detta Hokan [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Tracinya be Gra'tua"] [member="Myra'di"] [member="Artesia Vereen"] [member="Mira Rekali"] [member="Krenis Skirata"] [member="Conner Garon"] [member="The Traveler"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="Vilaz Munin"]