Echoes & Silence
Obran hadn't organized a thing, but he had come when word had spread through the Enclave. A barkeep had come to the planet from Mandalore with the diaspora and had decided to open up shop as the Enclave formed here. Cantinas were cantinas, galaxy-wide. But a Mandalorian cantina was cut of a different cloth, or so things were told. Rougher, if possible, than even Mos Eisley. You didn't check your weapons like some high brow areas. The patron had just reminded everyone they'd be held and made to do busboy work if they got out of hand. And given her size, and the fierce cudgel/rolling pin always present at her side, not many argued.
This time of year, many places had their version of a Solstice or Life Day celebration, and the enterprising woman had set up a sort of bazaar of traveling vendors outside, from Catharese bladesmiths to Hapan weavers and even a Corellian shipwright who somehow seemed more at ease amongst Mandalorians than any would have thought possible. Knife throwing, axe throwing, a band from Tatooine, and other carnival-like games were outside. Inside was a sabaac tournament, holo-chess and even an arm-wrestling competition and drinking contest being won by some burly Onderonian lout.
Obran had a perch on a ovular table, bes'bev out, playing old marching songs and telling tales to the gaggle of verd'ika and even a few more than grown warriors. The Rage of the Shadow Warriors. The Betrayl of the Ultimate. The Slayer of Mandalore. The Quest of Djarin. Even tales of the Mandalorian Civil Wars through the millennia. Music, theatric voices and more. Surprisingly, despite his gruff demeanor, the big Mandalorian quite liked children, a fact a few others noticed with a shake of their heads. Some enterprising Mando'ad with an eye for romance would see the heavy brow and olive skin, and the brooding eyes, and try to tie him to a family.
But tonight was the Cin Vhetin festival, as his adoptive father had raised him to call it. It marked the Mandalorian celebration of a New Year, and a turning point in the seasons. Raising his glass, the smith and occasional bard shouted loud, to a racuous return.
"Mando'ade, k'oyacyi!!!"
This time of year, many places had their version of a Solstice or Life Day celebration, and the enterprising woman had set up a sort of bazaar of traveling vendors outside, from Catharese bladesmiths to Hapan weavers and even a Corellian shipwright who somehow seemed more at ease amongst Mandalorians than any would have thought possible. Knife throwing, axe throwing, a band from Tatooine, and other carnival-like games were outside. Inside was a sabaac tournament, holo-chess and even an arm-wrestling competition and drinking contest being won by some burly Onderonian lout.
Obran had a perch on a ovular table, bes'bev out, playing old marching songs and telling tales to the gaggle of verd'ika and even a few more than grown warriors. The Rage of the Shadow Warriors. The Betrayl of the Ultimate. The Slayer of Mandalore. The Quest of Djarin. Even tales of the Mandalorian Civil Wars through the millennia. Music, theatric voices and more. Surprisingly, despite his gruff demeanor, the big Mandalorian quite liked children, a fact a few others noticed with a shake of their heads. Some enterprising Mando'ad with an eye for romance would see the heavy brow and olive skin, and the brooding eyes, and try to tie him to a family.
But tonight was the Cin Vhetin festival, as his adoptive father had raised him to call it. It marked the Mandalorian celebration of a New Year, and a turning point in the seasons. Raising his glass, the smith and occasional bard shouted loud, to a racuous return.
"Mando'ade, k'oyacyi!!!"
Come and celebrate the last year, socialize with the various Mandalorians, and maybe compete in games of skill or chance. You don't have to be Mandalorian or CIS to participate. Fun social thread with an easy pace to build characters from all factions!
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