Faction A New Epoch: Solstice of the Mando'ade 2023

[The Quartermaster]

C E L E B R A T I O N

TOR VALUM, KESTRI
902 ABY
​

The Solstice of the Mando'ade festival is a yearly tradition that commemorates the victorious Mandalorian fallen, past and present. A celebration of life and death, it is a time when all Mando'ade gather to remember their ancestors, sing the sagas, and share in kinship with one another. But this year's Solstice has coincided with another, much more ancient tradition. The Vormur flowers of Manda Square in Tor Valum have erupted into full bloom, initiating the Feast of Vormur, an ancient Mandalorian celebration that stretches back for a thousand generations.

Elated through their resurgence onto the galactic scene and recent seizures of rebellious territories, the Mandalorian Enclave has erupted into a mood of celebration. Warriors temporarily returned from victory and battle, drunk off of their glory, mingle with the rest of their kin who cannot remember the last time there has been such great cause for revels. In Tor Valum, the entirety of the Midtown sector has been transformed into the center of festivities; streamers and banners line the city, while lanterns, candles, and decorations provide festive illumination. A great Tournament of Iron, in homage to the traditional Trials of Iron that accompany the Feast of Vormur, has been declared by Warmaster Kranak Vizsla . Mandalorians across the Enclave and beyond have gathered to the tournament to prove their strength against their vod.

This rare convergence of two important Mandalorian traditions may be a once-in-a-lifetime event for many. As a new dawn approaches for the Mandalorian Enclave, join in the festivities to remember the past and celebrate the future.

Spoiler: OOC Note

Objectives One and Two take place two days apart chronologically, with Objective One on Primeday and Objective Two on Taungsday of the same week. Thus, same character can participate in both objectives if you wish. In addition, while Objective One is open to any spectators, only duel participants who have signed up and been vetted may duel in the thread. Enjoy!

OBJECTIVE ONE
Tor Valum - Coliseum of the Indomitable
Primeday

The Tournament of Iron is a massive spectator event in homage to the Feast of Vormur's accompanying Trials of Iron. Mandalorian warriors across the Enclave and beyond -- some infamous, some who have yet to be proven -- have flocked to the Tournament to test their strength against each other. Only the strongest may survive in this high-intensity, glory-fueled environment.



​

Spoiler: Duels

Opponent One​	Opponent Two​
Romul Saxon	Domina Prime
Sahan Dragr	Gailen Keldau
Siv Dragr	Yuri Maji
Fenn Stag	Yael Kandar
Gwyneira Vizsla	Korso Rook
MG-851216	Shakka Bralor
Hilal Vizsla	Araia Bralor
Kalðr Ísbjørn	Amarantha Bralor

​

OBJECTIVE TWO
Tor Valum - Midtown
Taungsday


The entirety of Tor Valum's midtown sector has been transformed into a center of revelries. Across streets and markets, trestled tables have been propped upk laden with traditional Mandalorian and Kestran dishes to feed the throngs of Mandalorians converging in Tor Valum. Shops and taverns have joined in the celebration; at the Shukur Kyr'bes tavern and Subhir Tapcaf all drinks are officially on the house, and the Dha'car brewery has supplied enough alcohol to fuel a generation, their brewers boast. It is truly a celebration of none other, fueled by the glories of the Tournament of Iron two days before.

Partake in the festivities! Catch up with old friends, make new ones, explore Tor Valum, and take this opportunity to remember. Remember why you're here. Remember what makes us Mandalorian. Enjoy the Solstice!

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Current Outfit

OBJECTIVE ONE

While DVA and 4 BRUH units were busy running the final repairs to Hilal's Mandalorian Armor, Hilal leaned against the wall of her dressing room her eyes focused on her datapad displaying her suit's diagnositcs. "Let's do this one more time....." Hilal muttered to herself she'd been doing that for the past couple of hours. "Concussion misses, carbonite spray....." She never participated in a Mandalorian tournament before to fight her fellow Mandalorian for honor was something Hilal dreamed of when she was kid. She remembered sneaking into one of the many grand arenas and watching Mandalorian duel surrounded by a crowd of thousands. Hilal couldn't help but admire the fighter's strength and skill as they struggled against each other to see who the better fighter was.

It was exhilarating and it was one of many things that motivated Hilal to push herself to the be the best Mandalorian warrior in the galaxy. But to be chosen as a contender in a grand tournament such as this was intimidating. Hilal is a daughter of the famed Clan Vizsla and while she never had the size and strength compared to an average Mandalorian, she made it up in other ways. "Such as my affinity for technology," Hilal thought walking over to her Mandalorian armor to inspect it. She brushed her gloved fingers over the pink armor casing smiling. The armor was an accumulation of years of hard work and sacrifice. Blood, sweat and tears as well as passion was poured into the armor and it served as her final mark to be recognized as a Forgemaster.

Hilal's smile grew bigger she made many friends and enemies as well during her efforts to construct the armor and now not only it added to her reputation, but it earned her a spot in the tournament. "Kapr Ni athu'neha kote at ner ha'yr," (May I bring glory to my clan) Hilal said. "Ta' nadarna be olaror oi." (Regardless of the outcome)

 

[Drel Rook]

OBJECTIVE TWO
Tor Valum - Midtown
Taungsday

Drel Rook slammed back another beer. He was trying to test the limits of his mechanically enhanced body. Stood up off his chair. A little more shaky than he would have liked. That’s what happened when you drank copious amounts.

Drel was getting tired of drinking alone. He was going to look for someone to trade stories with.

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

SHIP:

• "Ure'adtr" Howler Basilisk War Droid​

ARMOR:

• Besk'gathr Mk II​

WEAPONS:

• M.I. Augmented Beskad​
• M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol​
• "O'dteyase" Modified Vora-Class Verpine Hand Cannon​
• M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle​
• Grulyr Cebatr Battle Staff​

ITEMS:

• AXC (10)​
• Mirshir Ka'esr Binders​

AMMO:

• Gas Canisters (12)​
• Slugs (100) |​
• Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs (1 Mag)​
• RB-02 "Salt" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-04 "Droid's Bane" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-03 "Force Breaker" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• Tracyn'wuta Pyro Slugs (5 Mags)​
• Hurdisi Photonic Blackout Rounds (5 Mags)​

PRESS PLAY

​

---

Sahan walked along the streets of the midtown sector, watching as people were getting ready for both the tournament and the feast. He had his helmet strapped to his waist upside-down, with his Ji'yr Rekr pup peeking out from inside. Sahan made his way up to a large holoboard, where the list for the tournament had been posted. "Gailen Keldau, huh? Quite the prominent name. Wonder if that was random, or if someone was pulling some strings. Will be quite the interesting match, won't it, Ciri?" Ciri gave some happy yaps as Sahan scratched her ears. "And Dad is facing the Maji guy. Never met him, but I hear he's quite the troublemaker. Looks like this will be fun. Let's go find the Old Man. I'm sure he's already here somewhere. Maybe we can get some idea about the actual rules." Sahan and Ciri were both enjoying the excitement in the air. What a wonderful time to be alive, and what an exciting time to be one of the Mando'ade.

---

TAGS: Siv Dragr Gailen Keldau Yuri Maji​

Spoiler: OOC NOTE

Ciri's name comes from cin'ciri, which means "snow."

 

[Celt Saxon]

Location: Yhe tournament
Objective: Meet the forgemaster
Tag: Hilal Vizsla

Celt walked along amongst the preparation rooms for the tournament, racks of weapons, suits of armour and proud looking warriors all around her, this was a good place to be. She watched as a muscle bound mandalorian man with olive skin toon an angle grinder to his armour, the noise made her wince a little but she couldnt help but watch the mesmerising waterfall of beskar sparks for a few seconds.

She hadn't entered the tournament herself, she had missed the cutoff for applicants but had friends that were here, but today was about business.

One of the forgemaster's was competing, the woman hadn't been around much, offworld hunting bounties so had been hard to track down. This would be their first meeting having previously only communicating digitally.

Celt needed to make payment for some items she had purchased, she could do that remotely of course, but also wanted to discuss a custom item with the woman. She saw the room, Hilal Vizsla had called it a dressing room, bit it was a workshop. Celt tapped on the slightly ajar door before pushing it open to see the blue clad woman inspecting her large suit of pink armour. "Forgemaster Hilal?" she enquired, the woman in front of her seemed smaller and younger than her noble honorific would suggest. "Celt Saxon, ive come about those parts, apologies if im a few minutes earlier than we agreed"​

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Current Outfit

As soon as the door opened, Hilal and her droids immediately turned to see a red headed woman peering through it asking for Hilal. Hilal was confused for a moment, but then realized that she was Celt Saxon : The customer whom Hilal spoke with over the Holonet a week ago her turbine engines on her speeder broke down and needed to be replaced. Hilal promised Celt that she would build new ones for her and they will be more durable than the old ones. Indeed, It took Hilal a week to gather the necessary parts to create the engines. These corporations lacked passion and ingenuity but a Forgemaster can always turn chit to gold if they had the right tools and lots of love for their craft.

"Don't worry!" Hilal said smiling. "My first match won't start for an hour! Come on in! The Turbines will be waiting for you on the counter so you can inspect them!"

 

[Romul Saxon]

C O L O S S U S​

Tag: Domina Prime

The throngs of Mandalorians cheered as their former Warmaster stepped out onto the sands of the Colisseum of the Indomitable. A massive statue of the legendary Mand'alor overlooked the arena named for him, sanctifying the combat done here under his helm. Though he no longer lead the military might of the Enclave, the Cerar was still a champion for many Mandalorians, and his tales of combat were legendary.

He raised a beskad to the cheering crowd, and their roar grew. Today was the first day of celebrations and as such, the Mandalorians gathered were drunken with anticipation. . . and lots of ne'tra gal. They had come to seen their champions and those yet unproven to fight. And a fight they would receive.

Across the field would enter his opponent, the massive xeno many knew as Dima. Part-time nuisance and full-time Mandalorian beast, she was a formidable opponent in her own right. The crowd's hunger for combat would no doubt by sated by the righteous combat the two were about to perform here today.

 

[Siv Dragr]

D R A G R
​

Tag: Yuri Maji | Sahan Dragr

EARLIER​

Sahan would find his 'old man' in one of the many preparation rooms adjacent to the coliseum's appropriately-massive armory. The entire facilities were the busiest they'd ever been, Mandalorians streaming in and out as they prepared for their fights, inspected gear, or looked to catch a glimpse at some of the more famous figures slotted for the tournament. Siv preferred to keep to himself. His name and armor were well known throughout the Enclave by this point, but he didn't like the fame.

"You should be preparing, Sahan," Siv said brusquely as he ran a whetstone along the edge of his kal knife. He looked up from his sharpening, eyeing the Ji'yr Rekr cub. Sahan had taken quite a liking to his new pet, and the cub to him. Though Siv really wondered what it would look like in a few years when the fully-grown beast would be let loose on White Scar post. They were going to need a crash course in Ji'yr Rekr domestication. Suddenly, a massive gong reverberated throughout the coliseum. The current fight had concluded. Moments later a notification pinged on Siv's comms. He was up.

Their father and son pre-games bonding time cut short, Siv rose, sheathing his weapons. Before walking out of the room and towards the staging grounds, he put a gauntleted hand on Sahan's shoulder. "Remember, son, you've fought Jedi," he said with a reassuring tone. The corners of his mouth suddenly turned upwards in an almost conspiratorial grin. "Now you're ready for an actual challenge."

PRESENT
​

The floodlights of the coliseum shone brightly on its orange sands. The cheers from the drunken crowd were deafening, reverberating throughout the massive arena. Altogether, one could approximate it to battlefield conditions. Though Rodia had been quieter, compared to this. It was almost as if Siv was back on Tython all those years ago.

His hand rested on his blaster pistol at his hip as he watched his opponent enter from the opposite side of the arena. He knew little about this Clan Krayt scion beyond that he was the adoptive son of Shai Maiji. . . at the very least a polarizing name among the old guard of the Enclave. But Siv knew little of her story beyond what he'd heard over comms channels, and what little he had heard hadn't concerned him. What he did know was that Shai was a good fighter and leader.

If her son was anything like her, then he'd definitely be in for a fight.

 

[MG-851216]

Taught better but blinded still...

The roar of a speeder outside the colosseum roared as a racing speeder bikep descended from a low building, using it as a ramp. The woman riding it was wearing all black leather and a biking helmet, though the leather noticably had a red Iron Heart at the same place a beskar'gam would. As the bike landed, the rider swerved it right and parallel parked it smoothly into a parking spot. After a moment of checking the systems and turning on safety locks, she lifted her hands and pulled her helmet off.

The Chiss woman closed her eyes as she shook her long locks free from the helmet. Not bothering to smooth her hair out as it fell over her shoulders and over her back, she set the helmet aside and dismounted the bike. She took her keys and applied a final lock on her bike before grabbing a large satchel off its side. She flung the whole thing, loud and metallic, over her back and placed the keys in her back pocket.

Walking towards the colosseum doors, she noticed a fellow vod with his own beautiful speeder bike. She called to who she didn't know was Sahan Dragr , "Sweet ride!"

She also noticed Yael Kandar and LIL FINN THE BASEDGOD outside as well and waved in greeting as she ran into.

It took little to no time to find the dressing rooms. She opened her satchel, revealing her beskar'gam and some weapons, and then changed. She checked that systems were in check, tossed her wodded leather riding outfit into the same satchel, then was off. She smirked beneath her buy'ce.

She was looking forward to today.

Already, the arena was roaring as Mevia Krayt stepped out from the shadows of the door. As the crowd cheered, she had a moment of nervousness. She was always so confident talking about crusades and reclaiming lost glories, but this was different. Honorable combat between Mandalorians. She bit her lip before raising her fist and shouting, <"shereshoy bal akaanir!">

Spoiler

lust for life and fight!

The crowd roared. Mevia must have gotten it right. She smiled, looking to the opposite side of the arena where her opponent would emerge. She knew it was someone by the name Shakka Bralor , but she had not bothered the research much about her opponent in advance, like her mom and researched her's.

"In order to defeat your opponent, Mevia, you must know them. Preparation and prior research can save your life out there. The landscape of the battlefield, the enemies themselves, it is important to know what you're getting into."​

When there was training - and when she wanted a quick joyride here - she really thought that sitting and reading things was a waste of time.

And so, she stood there. She waited in anticipation. She was always excited for a good fight, and Mandalorians were truly honorable and worthy opponents.

Spoiler: OOC

Equipment:
- Beskar'gam.
- Beskad.
- Kal.
- Pistol, on stun setting.

 

[Yael Kandar]

OUTFIT: x
ENGAGING: Fenn Stag
GEARS:

Spoiler

Yael Kandar's Beskar'gam
M.I. Exoskeleton
M.I. 'Halo' Jump Boots
M.I. Model 6M Hybrid Pistol
ENCL-JR5 Striking Falcon Jetpack
KSTR-20 Borealis Heavy Blaster Pistol
KANDAR Model 8 Ultrasonic Pistol
KANDAR Gauntlet-Beskad (Both Arms)
Flamethrower (Right Arm)
Breshig War Forge Consolidated TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector (Left Arm)

​

KANDAR ESTATE, TOR VALUM, KESTRI, WILD SPACE
889 ABY

​

CLANK! Dad's blaster shot caught me off-guard right on my left chest armor and it sent me rolling down the ground. The shot hurts, even though it was absorbed perfectly by my chest-piece, and the crash-landing impact wasn't nothing either.

"Never stop moving! Use your jetpack! Again."​

I tried again, this time moving more swiftly, and I managed to survive the barrage for 30 more seconds.

"Brilliant, but there are thousands of brilliant young warriors out there. This galaxy is a dangerous place for us not touched by the Force. Again."​

Again, for one more minute, and the last one for four minutes. Finally, the last stage of my regular training is done for today. I reached for my bottle of water as Dad pulled me for a hug and pampered me with kisses on the head.

"Excellent work today, love."​

Combat training with Dad is hard and tiring. He was a Karjr after all, he used to fight the most powerful beings in the galaxy for a living. I leaned and rested my head on his chest, trying to catch breaths after gulping a full bottle of water.

"You have to remember that strength and combat prowess is not the only thing in this world, but mastery in it is still crucial for you. I know you are capable of reaching places no one ever has Yael, you are the Moon sent by the Manda. One day you will lead us back to where we belong."

"But Emam doesn't train as much as I am?"

"Emam's path is the path of an architect. He'll build the engines that will help our people back to our glory. Your's is a leader, Yael. You'll shine the light on the tribe of Mandalore, you're the one who is going to lead us to our glory."​

Dad gave me another tight hug. It's love, what Dad showed me. A faith and confidence of what I could achieve, a devotion of showing me the path of the Manda. One day it will lead me to what I was destined to do.
​

TOR VALUM, KESTRI, WILD SPACE
902 ABY

White noises. That's what the rabid roar of the crowd is to me at this very moment, inches away from the arena's entrance gate. Roars of yearning, of what we once were. Ours' is a tribe of strength, of power. It's always been, from the old days of the worship of Kad Ha'rangir, the Crusaders, the Neo-Crusaders, through the numerous civil wars, unifications, and destructions. But is that enough, strength and power?

Something I've learnt in a very short duration of ambivalence and the terror of a looming Crusade is how our people, including me in the past, clinged so hard on the idea of old glory, and have forgotten that that is not the aim. That is not enough. Our forebearer, with all the limitations they were bound to, laid down patches of framework on what could've been. Of the psychology and the mental make-up of our people. The realistic box in which our people can live efficiently. The people know and ache for what they knew and lost. What they want is inherently flawed. White noises. The leader should have a vision to go above and beyond. The leader should know how to bend and stretch the box without breaking its edges. The leader should lead.

The only thing my mind fixates on at this very moment is one Fenn Stag. Let's list what we know of the mysterious man I am set to face in the first round of the tournament. A clone of a warrior from a bygone era. Captured and frozen for twenty years. A man that's not supposed to be here. Out of all other participants of the tournament, I'm probably the least familiar with Fenn Stag. Not the way he fights, not the way his brain works. Going in blind is not ideal, but it has to do. This tournament is a proving ground for myself, that all I've been gifted, blessed with, and went through, that's for a cause and a destiny. It's for something bigger than me, bigger than my clan, and bigger than the Enclave. This is my tournament and I will not let Fenn Stag, nor anyone else on that matter, take the spotlight away.

​

Spoiler

TLDR: Training flashback, entering the arena, waiting for Fenn.

​

​

​

 

[Kalðr Ísbjørn]

SNOWBLIND​

Spoiler: Equipment

Armor: Htagir'Jorir | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Beskar'gam w/ENCL-JR5 Striking Falcon Jetpack & PMP-7 "Icharus" Gravpack
Weapons: G'ahycaya | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Beskad - Ciryc'saca | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Slugthrower Revolver - Htagir'karyatr | "Ice Hammer" - Htagir'senaar Whistling Birds
KSTR-28 Foremund Sniper Rifle - KSTR-24 Dvalin Blaster Rifle - KSTR-26 Perudin Blast Cannon - ENCL-43 Kayaur Heavy Blaster Cannon
Items: AXC (x3) - CryoBan Grenade (x12) - Power Packs (x7) - Slugs (Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs: x312) - Ration Packs (x5 Days)​

Kalðr Ísbjørn stepped out into the arena amongst the excited cheering of onlookers. He knew they weren't cheering specifically for him; they didn't even know him. They simply saw a large guy in white heavy beskar'gam wrapped in a fur cloak and got excited at the upcoming fight. It was typical of Mandalorians. He well understood. It didn't really matter to him. He had merely wanted to test himself and his brethren, perhaps get closer in fellowship through the sharing of blows. He wasn't the most sociable guy, but every Mando'ad knew how to communicate with fists or blade.

Across him stood a small red-headed woman, Amarantha Bralor . He towered over her, her head probably only coming up to around where his iron heart was, but he knew better than to judge a fellow Mandalorian based on size or even sheer strength. The traditional Ísbjørn clan verd'goten was to hunt a Hoth snow bear. A young man or woman could alone bring down a massive snow bear with enough ingenuity, grit, and determination. But at the same time, a snow bear could kill a man with one swipe of those massive claws. Kalðr was the bear in this case. Whcih one of them would come out on top? Either way, he was excited to find out. And hopefully he could make a new friend to go share some drinks with afterward, regardless of who won. This is the way.

 

[Drel Rook]

Drel stood at the edge of the ring, tapping his foot nervously. He wasn’t nervous because he was about to fight, he was nervous because he might not fight.
Drel was an idiot. An idiot that forgot to put his name in the draw for the tournament. After a considerable amount of pleading and grovelling, he was allowed to fight, if they found an opponent. That was a big IF. Nearly everyone that wanted to fight had already signed up and was paired off.

Drel turned to the steward who was standing next to him. “Any news?” Drel asked. The steward shook their head. They had no sympathy for Drel. Why should they? It was his own fault.

 

[Yuri Maji]

Objective: Tournament of Iron
Engaging: Siv Dragr
Gear: In bio

---

NICOTEEN​

The Solstice was a rather odd event for Yuri to join on. He was barely a Mandalorian in name, by his own choosing, but he always joined with his mother when growing up. It was almost like a family reunion for him. Despite his reservations of his childhood and his issues with his mother and their people, he wouldn't miss it for the world. He couldn't break her heart like that... besides, it was a lot of fun.

He signed up for the tournament and went on to enjoy the festivities the day before the tournament. A few drinks here led to a few more there, eventually seasoned with a few lines of spice to take the edge off before continuing the celebrations with a few more mugs of tihaar. The night became a dizzy blur and before he knew it, he was passed out in someone's bed with armour scattered, debauchery in the air and a bottle in hand.

It nearly gave him a heart attack when the tournament's cheers and announcements yanked him out of his deep sleep. Bloodshot eyes fluttered open and realisation kicked him out of bed to don his armour in a mad dash to reach the tournament in time.

He was a few minutes late, but eventually he touched down in the field with his opposition waiting for him. Yuri held a hand out as he removed his helmet, lighting a cigarette to calm the pounding headache. "Just... gimme a sec here." He remarked as he glanced over to the Karjr's big daddy. Siv Dragr. How the hell did he end up in a draw like this? As if previous run-ins weren't enough. Hopefully he forgot about the mess with a spice shipment from a while back.

"Tihaar got me good last night... holy kriff, can those lights kark off already." He flicked the cigarette bud away and slid his helmet on with sluggish movements. This wasn't going to be a good fight. Did he at least pack some extra ammo? A glance down at his empty pouches gave him a quick answer. He was going to have to go Old Republic on the dude.

 

[Korso Rook]

COLISEUM
Gwyneira Vizsla ​

This was an alien world. Korso honored the ancient traditions and combat with these colonists intrigued him. Salvaged plastoid replaced a missing beskar pauldron. In both hands he clutched a fearsome mythosaur axe. More weapons dangled from his belt. Everything looked in dire need of a forge.

"I am Korso," he did not remove his helmet, "My clan is Rook."

He raised the axe in salute.

"Glory and honor."

Under strange stars Korso waited for his opponent. A cracked visor beheld roaring crowds. Soon there would be blood on the sands.

 

[Zorana]

Tag: Open

With a heavy sigh, Zora placed her helmet down on the table and ran a hand up through her hair. She had gotten a drink at the bar and isolated herself to an empty standing table, hoping to avoid at least the most loud and obnoxious of them all. As much as she considered them her people, throw some alcohol at them and too many turned into insufferable hooligans. Some of them were currently smashing each other's brains out somewhere too, and the idea had been tempting to her as well.

But she had decided to take some rest instead, before she'd be on her way again to quell other rebellious insects who wanted to oppose their efforts in their rightful territory. The Rishii and Rodians were only the beginning, and she was looking forward to testing the next planet with the guts to stand tall.

"Well, aren't you looking-"

"Don't even try," Zora told the obviously drunk Mandalorian with pure disgust in her eyes. Lucky for him, he got the message and backed off immediately, or else she'd have lost her table smashing his face right through it. Zora then leaned back against the table with the drink in her hand and just watched the crowd around her for now.

This socializing thing sucked.

Why am I here again?

 

[Celt Saxon]

Location: The party
Objective: Celebrate
Tag: Zorana
Equipment: In bio

After meeting with forgemaster Hilal Vizsla , Celt used the time to both watch the duels and change into her own armour After noting that everyone else seemed to be wearing their beskar too.

As much she fiercely felt the honour of her people, she would rather be in her leathers or a dress for a social event. The red head left her helmet in her car, made sure all her hair was pulled clear of her chestplate and walked in, immediately moving to grab gerself a beer at the bar. She let out a little laugh as she spotted a vod she didn't recognise shoot down a man who hoped to try his luck.

Why am I here again?

"To celebrate the ascendancy of mandalorians and the swift demise of our enemies of course" Celt laughed as she moved to join the blonde "Celt Saxon..." she held out her free hand to shake it, holding her cold beer in the other.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

As she entered the stadium, Gwyneira Krayt pulled her buy'ce over her head. Her armor was pristine, recently repainted again, and her weapons were in expert condition. A Forgemaster. A Karjr. A buir. An adi'ka. An exile. A distant help to her people. The daughter of Warmaster Kranak Vizsla .

She looked over to her opponent in the opposite side of the arena. Korso Rook . She saw his unkempt appearance, and through the Force she felt his hammer blunt personality through his Force Signature. Already, her mind was formulating potential battle strategies and plans. Still, this was no battlefield. This was an honorable arena, where two Mandalorian warriors sparred in good faith. And Gwyneira still had respect for others, despite all the reasons the Galaxy gave her to not to. Thus, she would treat her opponent with honor.

<"Olarom, vod. I am Gwyneira Krayt, of Clan Vizsla. It is an honor to duel my fellow warrior.">

She smirked beneath her helmet, pointing to his poor quality armor and offered with both amusement and genuine care, <"If you ever need your equipment spruced up, I'm always willing to help out a vod. Now-">

She pulled her M.I. pistol from its holster, setting it to stun as she entered an opening salute. <"Shall we begin? Your move.">

She could gather information of Rook's fighting style and preferred tactics by having him make his first move. With her Force Sense, it would be difficult to put her off guard. She could handle it, and read his skillsets like words in a book.

Spoiler: OOC

Equipment:
- Beskar'gam, including cybernetics, kama, custom armor submissions inside.
- Twin pistols, set to stun.
- Kal.
- Pistol, on stun setting.
- EMP Grenades.

 

[Siv Dragr]

D R A G R
​

Tag: Yuri Maji

​

Siv sighed, hands on his hips. His opponent was hungover? He'd expected more from the child of Shai Maiji. Hell, he hadn't physically been the one who'd procreated Sahan, but he'd raised him just as well as if he had. And no Dragr would ever walk into a fight in a drunken stupor.

A massive gong reverberated through the arena, accompanied by the roar of the crowd. The fight would start. Siv drew his pistol in a swift, fluid motion and fired it at the Shistavenan. If the Mandalorian was wearing beskar -- a good probability -- then the blaster pistol would do little but distract the Mandalorian, but that was all Siv needed. He lept into the air, propelled by his jetpack, and then began a feet-first downwards kick at his foe.

 

[Yuri Maji]

Objective: Tournament of Iron
Engaging: Siv Dragr
Gear: In bio

---

BONKERS​

The inebriated Shistavanen barely had time to process the gong that split his ears before a number of shots smashed into his armour. He stumbled back until a powerful kick sent him flying back several meters. Yuri's stomach turned and boiled as bloodshot eyes widened. "That'll do it..." He yanked off his helmet and rolled over to sober up, spitting the last of the bile out of his mouth as reinvigorated eyes beheld the roaring crowds.

"KARK YEAH, LET'S DO THIS!" He slid his helmet back on and let loose with a missile from his jetpack before taking to the sky. His pistol burst with a volley of blaster bolts aimed at Siv as he circled his opponent. "I'm back in the fight, boys!" He cackled away as he closed the distance, taking aim with his grappling line to try and ensnare his opponent.

"Hey Siv, you finally tryin' to be a good fighter?! Or is flexing your badge still your favourite pastime?" He taunted the man as he fired his grappling line.

 

[Zel Sharratt]

Tournament of Iron: Spectating
Tags: Open

​

"Log 27."

Zel was a well traveled man, even in his young age, but not once had he been to the heart of the Enclave. His sect had, at one point or another, fallen under their banner, though they had chosen to isolate themselves deep into the Dune Sea. To say that resent waves of aggression in the Enclave had made it difficult to work his way around in search of history to record was a bit of an understatement, but the Blubreen couldn't miss the opportunity to record the Vormur Feasts and the Trials of Iron.

"There's a beauty in war and combat, even where some may expect to find barbarism. Even the most hardened warriors in the galaxy welcome in a time of remembrance and solace with the super bloom of a flower, the Vormur of Mandalore. To put it simply, I couldn't keep myself from dropping in and recording the the biggest semi-centennial event for all Mando'ade for my Chronicle of History of the Galaxy, name pending. A tournament of grandiose proportions accompanying the sacred Trials of Iron was something that I had to observe in the flesh."

He had managed to find himself a good spot in the stands to observe the matches, a rare opportunity to record live combat between the heaviest hitters in the present era, war heroes from the Second Great Hyperspace War and young upstarts alike. This was history in the making. He'd have to drop by the feast later. His present interest lay in the Tournament of Iron.

"With a new era of conflict on the horizon, this event is a rare chance to observe some lurking legends not yet born, figures that may rise to great significance in the coming years," the historian mused. "Some of these helmets may very well be the ones you find plastered in holobooks for centuries to come. As the historian of the people, I hope to lay the foundation for the continued recording of present and past events alike."

The man reached up and adjusted the recorder on his helmet before leaning back and crossing his arms.

"But perhaps a little off-the-cuff commentary couldn't hurt," he added. "A few predictions certainly wouldn't harm the neutrality of documentation, and I'm sure my listeners will be curious about the man behind the camera. Alas, I cannot divulge that much, but if I were to place money on any combatant present..."

He would shift his head, the recording device honing in on a certain Domina Prime .

"My bets are on the purple one."