Veyla Krinn
Character
The following morning arrived with the familiar bite of Concordia's cold.
A pale sunrise spilled across Kelita, painting frost-covered rooftops in muted gold while smoke from the forge district drifted lazily into the still morning air. The city had already begun to stir. Hammers echoed from workshops that never truly slept, merchants assembled their stalls, and armored figures crossed the streets with steaming mugs of caf before another day's work began.
Veyla had been awake long before dawn. Her armor had been inspected, cleaned where necessary, and fastened piece by piece until every strap and clasp sat exactly where it belonged. Her spear rested across her back, her blaster remained holstered at her hip, and a small pack carried little more than water, rations, and a basic medkit. Whatever today became, she intended to arrive prepared.
The Broken Mythosaur was considerably quieter than it had been the previous evening. Celebration had given way to the slower rhythm of morning. A handful of familiar Mandalorians occupied scattered tables, exchanging stories over caf instead of ale. More than one offered her a nod as she stepped inside, returning each greeting before ordering two mugs.
When Kallous arrived, she slid the untouched cup across the table toward him.
"Morning, Kallous."
She waited until they had both stepped back into the crisp mountain air before continuing.
"I thought we could head up into the foothills." She nodded toward the snow-capped ridgeline overlooking Kelita. "There's an old quarry a few kilometers outside the city. It's quiet, open, and nobody goes there anymore unless they're looking for solitude."
A faint smile touched her lips as she adjusted the strap of her pack.
"Figured it'd be a better place to start than the middle of town. Less chance of someone interrupting us."
Without assuming anything further, she started walking toward the northern gate, matching her pace to his once he caught up. The route gradually left behind the ringing of hammers and the smell of forge smoke, replacing them with evergreen forests, cold mountain air, and the crunch of frost beneath their boots. Wherever today's first lesson truly began, she would leave that decision entirely to him.
Kallous
A pale sunrise spilled across Kelita, painting frost-covered rooftops in muted gold while smoke from the forge district drifted lazily into the still morning air. The city had already begun to stir. Hammers echoed from workshops that never truly slept, merchants assembled their stalls, and armored figures crossed the streets with steaming mugs of caf before another day's work began.
Veyla had been awake long before dawn. Her armor had been inspected, cleaned where necessary, and fastened piece by piece until every strap and clasp sat exactly where it belonged. Her spear rested across her back, her blaster remained holstered at her hip, and a small pack carried little more than water, rations, and a basic medkit. Whatever today became, she intended to arrive prepared.
The Broken Mythosaur was considerably quieter than it had been the previous evening. Celebration had given way to the slower rhythm of morning. A handful of familiar Mandalorians occupied scattered tables, exchanging stories over caf instead of ale. More than one offered her a nod as she stepped inside, returning each greeting before ordering two mugs.
When Kallous arrived, she slid the untouched cup across the table toward him.
"Morning, Kallous."
She waited until they had both stepped back into the crisp mountain air before continuing.
"I thought we could head up into the foothills." She nodded toward the snow-capped ridgeline overlooking Kelita. "There's an old quarry a few kilometers outside the city. It's quiet, open, and nobody goes there anymore unless they're looking for solitude."
A faint smile touched her lips as she adjusted the strap of her pack.
"Figured it'd be a better place to start than the middle of town. Less chance of someone interrupting us."
Without assuming anything further, she started walking toward the northern gate, matching her pace to his once he caught up. The route gradually left behind the ringing of hammers and the smell of forge smoke, replacing them with evergreen forests, cold mountain air, and the crunch of frost beneath their boots. Wherever today's first lesson truly began, she would leave that decision entirely to him.