Korar Murrak
Large Lad
The snow never seemed to stop on Kestri.
The frozen winds moved across the mountains and valleys, covering the landscape in white. For many, this world would have been a harsh place. A place meant to be endured. But to korar the cold world felt more comfortable than the warmer planets he had crossed before.
The large Benathy walked through the snow, his heavy footsteps leaving deep marks behind him. His armor had seen years of use, worn from battles, contracts, and the long road he had walked since leaving everything behind.
It had been a year since Ontogr had fallen. A year since the Mandalorian who had taken him in, taught him, and given him a family was gone.
Since then, Korar had continued forward. He worked where he could, taking jobs and surviving however he needed to. But no matter how many battles he fought or how many places he traveled, something always felt missing. Then he heard about Kestri. About the Iron Covenant.
Mandalorians who had chosen not to let their culture fade. Warriors, smiths, scouts, and Foundlings who had gathered together and continued the path of the Mando'ade.
A place where someone like him might still have a place.
Korar did not come looking for glory. He did not come seeking a title or a clan. He came because Ontogr had taught him that being Mandalorian was more than blood. More than a name. It was a choice.
After arriving on Kestri, Korar spent some time learning what he could. Asking questions. Listening. Eventually, one name kept coming up.
Vren Rook. A Mandalorian of the Iron Covenant.
The giant warrior looked out across the frozen landscape ahead of him before continuing onward. He did not know what waited for him, or if the Covenant would accept him. But for the first time in a long time...Korar was not walking without a destination.
Vren Rook
The frozen winds moved across the mountains and valleys, covering the landscape in white. For many, this world would have been a harsh place. A place meant to be endured. But to korar the cold world felt more comfortable than the warmer planets he had crossed before.
The large Benathy walked through the snow, his heavy footsteps leaving deep marks behind him. His armor had seen years of use, worn from battles, contracts, and the long road he had walked since leaving everything behind.
It had been a year since Ontogr had fallen. A year since the Mandalorian who had taken him in, taught him, and given him a family was gone.
Since then, Korar had continued forward. He worked where he could, taking jobs and surviving however he needed to. But no matter how many battles he fought or how many places he traveled, something always felt missing. Then he heard about Kestri. About the Iron Covenant.
Mandalorians who had chosen not to let their culture fade. Warriors, smiths, scouts, and Foundlings who had gathered together and continued the path of the Mando'ade.
A place where someone like him might still have a place.
Korar did not come looking for glory. He did not come seeking a title or a clan. He came because Ontogr had taught him that being Mandalorian was more than blood. More than a name. It was a choice.
After arriving on Kestri, Korar spent some time learning what he could. Asking questions. Listening. Eventually, one name kept coming up.
Vren Rook. A Mandalorian of the Iron Covenant.
The giant warrior looked out across the frozen landscape ahead of him before continuing onward. He did not know what waited for him, or if the Covenant would accept him. But for the first time in a long time...Korar was not walking without a destination.
Vren Rook