The Old Boar
W A R M A S T E R
Tor Valum, Kestri
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Nighttime had fallen over Kestri. Inuyahya'baar, the ice world's amethyst moon, shone brightly, a faint sheen of purple in one of its common phases. Below, the city of Tor Valum did not sleep. The rhythm of the Mandalorian city had changed since the Mythos Fleet had departed from Kestri. Though warriors remained, and the forges sang with the sound of hammer and steel, it felt much emptier than before. The vast majority of those who had sworn themselves to the Iron Covenant were no longer planetside and only occasionally returned to the world as needed, especially in these opening stages of the campaign. Romul was one of the few who regularly frequented the world, as his duty of managing its defenses -- the Verd'kandar -- fell primarily on his shoulders.The heart of the Rekav'dral Keep burned bright, though it only cast shadows on the cavernous hall that, apart from the Mythos Guard and Saxon himself, was empty. He did not sit on a seat nor pretend to rule, but stood at the foot of the roaring flame, warhammer held in front of him, its head resting on the ground, and both hands gripping its handle. Light from the fire danced across his crimson and gold armor.
He had been surprised to receive communication from the Alor of Clan Kryze of Concordia. Since the rise of the second Mandalorian Empire, Clan Kryze had been one of its larger supporters. The Mando'ade of Kestri and those of Mandalore were estranged, and communication was limited. The Iron Covenant did not recognize him who claimed the title of Mand'alor, and the Empire's support and collaboration with the Sith had not gone unnoticed. Those more zealous in the Covenant even deigned to name the regime a slight against the memory of all those millions of vode who had perished in the Sith's genocide of Mandalore. That there was tolerance by any vode of the Sith culture was a sign of the new generation who had not been raised in that shadow.
Romul was passionate, ardant in his hate for the Sith. He had watched their destruction of his homeworld, had lost hundreds of kin he personally knew to their slaughter. He had been as fervent a follower of the Quartermaster and her dream for an evolution of the Mando'ade. In many ways, the return of Mandalore represented regression, not recovery. But he did not carry hate in his heart for fellow vode. Only the Death's Hand who had followed a Sith Mand'alor had erased their heritage, in his eyes. All those who followed the Resol'nare would be welcome on Kestri and among the ranks of the Iron Covenant in their sacred crusade against the Sith. And so Romul had responded effectively with open arms. He did not know the purpose of Kryze's visit, but he would not bar him from Kestri's hearth.