Beskar'games

[Varien Moxla]

Initiated into the Mandalorian Clans after facing off against the Yuuzhan Vong after an Ithorian Herdship had crashed on the aforementioned planet, it was different from what he had imagined the Mandalorian's to be like. Yes, they were warriors through and through, but more than that they were a family.

A large extended family.

An extremely large extended family.

Comparing it to how life had been on Kiffu, he could understand it. But, Clan Moxla was nowhere near as big as the entirety of the Clans.

He had been there on Mandalore when the Mand'alor addressed all Mandalorians. Independent Clans, the Crusaders, and of course, the Clans. The sheer amount of warriors was nothing he had seen before. Off of the battlefield, they had differences, no doubt about it. He had heard how some resented those that were Force sensitive, and he made sure to steer clear of those, even if he hardly used the Force. But what had truly enticed him was the armour.

All of it different, and yet similar.

It was only a few days after the gathering of tens of thousands, and he was of the mind to prove himself, not just to the Clan that initiated him, but to all that were his new family.

The young Kiffar was on his way to a forge where he had asked one of his new brother's in Clan Kelborn to get in contact with someone who could actually craft the Mandalorian Iron. Within only a few days, someone was to meet him. On the DataPad in his hands were a design that he was interested in having created. Naturally, he went on the HoloNet to compare images as a baseline for the own drawing and design he had created.

Numerous concepts were brought together. He was hardly original about it.

 

[Varien Moxla]

He arrived at the forge alone.

He had told Kade Kelborn where he was going, perhaps he would meet him there later and together they would appraise the suit of armour that had been made for him. The one that was an idea in his mind, one that could hopefully be pulled directly from his mind.

"Varien of Clan Mo- Kelborn," he said before he had said the wrong name. Was he still considered to be apart of Moxla? He figured he was, it was sort of like marrying into another family he assumed. His Kiffar Clan was still his family, the Mandalorians were just the family that he was marrying into. Likely spending plenty of time with in the coming weeks and months, perhaps even more than he would in his own people's section of Space.

The Galactic Alliance.

"I was told I could find you here to forge my armo- Beskar'gam," he corrected again, this time more firmly.

Was he nervous? Never before had he felt such an emotion.
"I also came to be taught how. Not just to watch. I want to take part."

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The Mandalorian that was to be forging his armour remained silent whilst the young Kiffar spoke, deciding it was best to just let the boy get everything out before he actually responded. Once Varien born from some Kiffar Clan finished, the tattooed Mandalorian finally spoke.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]An idea of playing with the kid had crossed his mind, but he had decided it’d be for the best if he saved the jokes for another time. He had already agreed to the request from his contact from Clan Kelborn. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Your size.” He croaked out. He practically lived in the forge, so his throat was almost always dry. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien almost had a dumb look on his face as he started to lift the DataPad to offer to the Mandalorian, but he made no moves to reach for it in turn, so his arm dropped back down to his side a moment.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Just from looking around one could see that there was plenty of beskar plates. Guantlets, crushgaunts he presumed. Those were already in the plans that he had. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He didn’t answer it because he was busy looking around, his attention became divided in new environments, probably one of the things that tended to annoy the Masters in the New Jedi Order. He was like a dog in that aspect. Or a cat. Or any curious being for that matter. But when it came to battle… He’d be focused like no one other.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The beskar’gam was to protect him further.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]As limited as he was with his abilities in the Force. He tended to use more practical weapons.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Six foot two,” he said as he spotted other sets of armour and partial sets throughout the room. He had plenty of orders to complete and to get through it looked to Varien. “About… Thirty-two inches around the waist? Or maybe… Thirty four?” He shrugs. He knew he didn’t exceed thirty-four. He was lean, and he had a powerful form. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]“Thirty-four it is. If you’re not, you can grow into it… If you get… Bigger.” That didn’t seem likely. He looked young, but he was pretty big already. [/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I’m not planning on getting fat, Smith.” He said in retort, which brought about a chuckle from the Beskarsmith. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Lanjon.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“What?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“My name,” he croaked out again. “Better you use that instead of ‘Smith,’” he explained. “Bet there is millions of Smiths out there.” Varien could only blink. Was it the dry, stretched features, along with the dirt caking his visage that made him look older? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Based off of how he spoke he could guess they were of an age with each other.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]“You’re Mandalorian? Born and bred?” He questioned, similar to the question that he had asked Kade Kelborn when they had first met on Ithor. His life had been much different back then. He had simply been a Padawan with two blasters and not much else other than the clothes on his back.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Just a few weeks ago he was just some Kiffar kid who aspired to be a Guardian of Kiffu. If he had succeeded and had become one, he could do right by his parents. His plan? To become one of the youngest Generals within the Guardian history. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]After he had done that? Well, he wanted to lead some sect of the Guardians of Kiffu that didn’t stay in Kiffar Space, but rather scoured the Galaxy for the most dangerous of criminals and to bring them to jail. Whether they had bounties or otherwise, mattered not, they would be jailed as they were supposed to. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I am. Probably a few years older than yourself,” Lanjon, the Beskarsmith said shocking Varien out of his own reverie. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Blunt as ever, Varien spoke.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“You look like an old man.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]His voice was dry, so when he laughed, it sounded raucous as he went about preparing his tools. [/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]That had been when he snatched the DataPad out of Varien’s hand.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]A large tank filled with cold water was pulled out of nowhere, there were tools inside of it, likely the equipment he’d been using before he had arrived. Swiping through the pages a few times, Lanjon nodded his head as he handed the DataPad back to the Kiffar. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Looks good,” he said drily. Maybe he needed water from how short he was with his words. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“You won’t need it again? Isn’t it complicated?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]“What you want? Sure it is,” he said, a fire coming to life underneath a table of freshly fashioned sheets of Terenthium infused into the Mandalorian Iron. Despite the archaic appearance of the setup, it came to life quite quickly, the beskar slowly beginning to glow brightly. Lanjon looked up to Varien briefly, and then lowered his gaze to the horn of the nearby anvil as he guided the cut sheet of metal, large enough for a torso as he guided it over the rounded edge of the anvil slowly.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“You’re not going to look at it again?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]There was no answer. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Other than the ringing of the hammer over the sheet of beskar, forming it to the specifications that Lanjon’s dusty gaze had seen moments ago. It was imprinted in his mind, all the intricate and complex designs. After looking at the schematics, his mind had immediately translated what was necessary and what wasn’t. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]How much hammering here, how much hammering there. Lanjon’s hammer clanged over the sheet of beskar, and bounced back up before he brought it back down again. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Slowly guiding what would be the upper torso of the chest piece to the ‘horn’ of the anvil, he held the still hot sheet with the tongs as he fashioned what would protect the wearer’s neck. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I was born for this sort o’ thing.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Pointing towards one of the objects on the work table, Lanjon said, “Bring me the vice.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien had done his homework at least, he had snatched up the vice that was within arm’s reach and handed it to him after what appeared to be the front of the chest piece was finished being hammered.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien was told to do a few more tasks involving the chest piece. He was scurrying back and forth across the forge over the next hour. Towards the end of it, he spotted Lanjon chiseling something around the base of what would be protecting his throat and over the collarbone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]In Kiffar, it read, the ‘Dark Wolf of Kiffu’ and after a moment of smirking and satisfied with the written words, he straightened out. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]It was [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]almost [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]offensive on account of Varien’s pigmentation. But was it wrong to say that someone dark… Was dark?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]After the words had been inscribed into the almost ready sheet, he chiseled the Mandalorian Diamond just a few inches underneath the insignia. It wasn’t in the original design from the Kiffar kid, but he’d be damned if he didn’t stick to tradition.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Come here. Get some gloves on.” He said as he began unclipping the vice from the finished chestpiece, neck guard, arm holes and all. “Grab the tongs,” he said after his first command had been followed. Once that was done, Lanjon guided him through the motions of taking the chest piece into his hands. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]“Dunk it into the cold water,” he said, and a grin that was only fit for a mischievous soul, a handful of long strides, thanks to his long legs had him already sinking the chestpiece into the water with a satisfied grin as he heard the water hiss as it cooled the Mandalorian iron.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Despite the gloves he bore, he could still feel the heat. He had some apron that was probably a size too big, was it? Or maybe it was big enough to make it noticeable to the person wearing it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Anyway, Varien couldn’t fathom how someone could stay in a forge for hours at a time. To practically live in such a place. It was arduous, not nearly as exciting as the battlefield. But still, despite his dislike for it, it still intrigued him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Not to the point that he’d want to grow up and become a Beskarsmith, but enough that he’d fix or forge his own armour if the time came for that.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“What do you mean you were born for this?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]There was a moment of respite and he decided to recall a moment that he was certain Lanjon had forgotten. But, he answered almost immediately. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]“I ain’t made for war, but I can make the weapons that [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]are [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]made for War.” He paused. “For people like you.” He lifted his face mask in that brief break, “For my brothers and sisters. For my family. Any who ask.” He nodded his head to Varien, and the protective gear for his face came back down and concealed his features as he started to work on the helmet.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]They went through the same process with the helmet. It was difficult, he imagined it’d take more lessons for that part. Designing the helmet was the most difficult part. Every time Varien swung that hammer he was afraid he would shatter the beskar being used, or he’d strike it too hard and move a portion too far to the point that it was unusable.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He was assured numerous times, but he was still apprehensive about it. This was something [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]for [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]him. Making a mistake would be ruining his own stuff in a way. It was a distracting thought, and although it remained present as he hammered, it was the one thing that made sure he didn’t mess up. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien excelled under pressure.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Or on the battlefield, whichever. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“The helmet is completed,” the Smith said after a brief pause, pulling the helmet out of the cold water, setting it down on [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]another [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]table and actually finding a space on it. Enough space for a single suit of armour. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“What is nex-?” Lanjon was going to continue with before he was cut off.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Crushgaunts.”[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Crushgaunts.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien’s amethyst coloured eyes were appraising the armour that he was helping to forge. He imagined that it would be completed by now if he hadn’t insisted in learning how to do it himself. But it was about the experience, no?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He rolled his shoulders after he finished fashioning the shape of the Crushgaunts. There were multiple slots and gaps in it too, it heavily required the help of Lanjon, his young Beskarsmith. He knew what they were for. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The electronics that would otherwise be inside of the suit of armour. Wrist mounts, a holo-display perhaps if it made it into the final production. He would’ve wiped his face, but there was a protective mask covering it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“That was worse than the helmet.” Varien declared, the protective helmet muffling his words just enough to raise a query from Lanjon.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Something helmet?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Don’t make me do that again!” He said a little bit louder which triggered a snort and a shake of Lanjon’s head. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“You wanted to le-”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]“No.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien knew what he had wanted. He just didn't want to reminded me of it.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The finished Crushgaunts were pulled out of the cooled water and set to the side. Just like the helmet, and the beskar plates that were fashioned for his size. They were awaiting assembling. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Find more cold water. To cool down the metal,” Lanjon explained before there was a complaint. Was it taking too long? Just a little bit, but it was endearing in a way. He just wanted it to be finished. After all, there were other armours to repair.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Contrary to what Lanjon would’ve expected, the young Kiffar walked over to the water container that was already there. He pushed it across the forge until he got to the grate that he had spotted when he first entered. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Varien tipped it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The water spilled out into the grate and disappeared below as it [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]splooshed [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]and [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]whooshed [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]out of its container. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Picking up the container, Varien slowly took off his heat resistant clothing and then hurried out of the forge. The suit was hot as well. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]So much for resistance.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Now where to go to find near frozen water.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]By the time he got back from a vendor and entered the forge, Lanjon was standing by the door, already submerging what looked like boots into the near frozen water. It steamed up, and then the smith ushered him deeper into the forge so that he may replace the water container where it had been previously.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Took you long enough.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I’m new to this sort of thing.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Doing as you’re told, or getting lost?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]There was a temporary silence from Varien as he replaced the heat resistant clothing back onto his person. “Both,” he admitted. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]After he had the clothes back on, they looked at each other and there was chuckling.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I’m not cut out for making armour,” he said a moment later. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Agreed.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Purple gaze narrowed.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]And then they laughed again.[/SIZE]

 

[Varien Moxla]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Now with all the heavy heat resistant clothing on, he realized he didn’t want to help with the forging anymore.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I’ll wait outside,” he said with a single nod of his head as he trudged out, heavy clothing and all, and once he was outside he began taking them off. One at a time. It was easy to build up a sweat underneath all that padding. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Once he was out of it all, he breathed aloud, and heavily too as he stretched his tense shoulders. “No chance I’m doing that again,” he groaned out as he stretched. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He heard the hammering from within. At that point, Lanjon was likely hammering out the cuisse. The lower body of the armour was primary armourweave and mandalorian steel, there was limited plates down there, so there was less restriction for his quick and spontaneous movements.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]The risk of losing his legs if the right weapon was used was present, but he wanted his legs to not be worn down. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]The clanging of the hammer striking the beskar within was heard and he just breathed in as much as the air as he could.[/SIZE]