Faction Packs of Iron | The Iron Wolves of Mandalore

[Vytal Noctura]

MANDALORE
"The only way is through. The only failure, surrender."​

The fires of affirmation never waned. Whether it be Mandalorian against another, another against Mandalorian, or even Mandalorian against Mandalorian there was always a challenge to become over, or an ideology to prove out. Most recently, the first domino that had led to glory had been Vexis Station. Now, the Mandalorian Emprie proclaimed a great victory over Yaga Minor and sought to secure an end to the Troubles upon Bastion.

And the fire burned unabated. The aftermath of the conversation with the Imperial Confederacy had yet to manifest. Flames danced, carried by the currents from Yaga Minor and the revelations of third-party involved. Soon, embers of one storm might beget another. How many more would follow?

It was not a blaze that could be contained. Whether one used a cold fire or a searing fire, plastered in ideology and coated with the banners of hosts, it would go on. And it was because of that the people should celebrate their victories as time allowed, cling to one another when they were harsh, and take every opportunity to grow as individuals and as a whole.

The Warmaster of the Iron Wolves had sent word out to all. Called to this plateau among the clouds in the wilds of their home, Witches and Wolves alike had set up a camp at the edge of a forest that sat at the foot of a towering peak. Even as the light still reached them, a fire burned. To cook. To draw warmth from a chill in the air. To study and find meaning in its nearly hypnotic dance. Every use was appropriate.

And as more Wolves appeared, some of the Witches faded into the shadows to make space. The Warmaster had given her silent thanks to the Sisters that had come. They had not all pledged to be called Iron Wolves, but they heeded the call of their Warden and Nethermother.

Today was a new beginning. A new offering.

After welcoming all those to camp, Vytal had those on drums set a beat for Wolves to dance if they will. Spirits would have drink passed among the membership freely, fulfilling every request for drink or food. It was a celebration! A time to meet others like themselves.

"To grow. To become more than that which we were," the Warmaster had declared.

After the welcoming, the pale Warmaster drew off to the side to use her magicks to form two diagonally beams out of the ground and over an edge nearest to the camp. Grooves burrowed into their length and Vytal Noctura tested the stout quarterstaff in her hands. The creation was wide enough for a body to pass through, but not wider than the staff. A Salmon Ladder that had the participant dangling over the cloud cover over the edge. Who knew how far below the ground might be among the mists?

With the staff in hand, the Warmaster of the Iron Wolves couldn't help but bring the weapon to bear and give it a thrust, step into the strike, and spin about to bring the end down toward an imaginary opponent. An excellent weapon in the right hands at close distances. Such martial or melee weapons were suited for the people from Dathomir; their tradition had not be forgotten over the centuries.

Attention: Mandalorian Iron Wolves
Adelle Bastiel | Siv Kryze | Persephone Halcyon | Kirae Orade | Torva Vikar | Veyla Krinn | Eenia Vahn | Aether Verd | Liorra | Vael Saren | Talohn Atar | Dreidi Xeraic | Kael Varr Basteil Skirata | Sanguina Krev | Incitrix | OPEN, Iron Wolves, Mandalorian Force Users, Witches & Mystics

 

[Kael Varr Basteil Skirata]

Mandalore

Kael... wasn't a huge fan of crowds; however, the war- mistress of the Iron Wolves had summoned all who could touch the force, and so he came. He lingered at the edge of the group, not ready to really show off or show out. He wasn't openly hostile, just kept his eyes down and focused on his drink and food. He watched the War Mistress shadow spar with her quarter staff, making him want to join in with his tanfa, but he wasn't as familiar with them yet since they were new to him. He also thought of his plasma bow on his back, if only he had a target to shoot.

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla did not arrive with ceremony.

She came on foot from the tree line, cloak unfastened and draped loosely over one shoulder, boots quiet on the packed earth as she crossed into the fire's glow. The camp was alive in the way only gatherings like this ever were: drums threading rhythm through the air, laughter rising and falling, heat and smoke curling together beneath the open sky. Witches and Wolves moved in overlapping orbits, some dancing, some sparring, some simply watching and listening.

It felt…honest.

She paused near the edge of the gathering, taking it in without rushing herself forward. Vytal's movements caught her eye first. The staff flowed like an extension of the Warmaster's will, each strike and turn precise, controlled, grounded in something older than doctrine or rank. Veyla watched for a few moments with quiet respect, recognizing discipline when she saw it.

Only then did she notice Kael.

He stood apart, not withdrawn enough to be rude, not engaged enough to be comfortable. Food and drink in hand. Eyes lowered. Attention split between the fire, the staff, and his own thoughts. The posture of someone who had answered a call out of duty, not certainty.

She recognized it immediately.

After a moment, she angled her path slightly and approached him without fanfare, stopping a comfortable distance away rather than intruding into his space. Her presence was calm, unassuming, boots planted easily in the dirt.

She glanced briefly toward Vytal, then back to Kael.

"You've been watching her like you're trying to memorize every step," Veyla said quietly, her tone warm rather than teasing. "That's usually what people do when part of them wants to try…and part of them is still deciding if it's allowed."

A faint, sympathetic smile touched her mouth.

"Crowds aren't everyone's strength," she continued. "Doesn't mean you don't belong here."

She shifted her weight slightly, resting her hands loosely at her sides.

"If it helps," Veyla added, nodding subtly toward the open space near the ladder and sparring area, "half the people out there are just pretending they're more confident than they feel. The rest are lying to themselves."

Her gaze flicked, briefly, to the shape of his weapons.

"Tanfa take time," she said gently. "So does learning when to draw and when to wait. Neither makes you weaker."

Then, quieter, more sincere:

"This place isn't about proving anything tonight," Veyla told him. "It's about showing up. You did that."

She lifted her own cup slightly in a small, informal gesture.

"Veyla," she offered simply. "If you feel like talking. Or sparring. Or just standing here until the noise makes sense. Any of it's fine."

Her eyes softened just a touch.

"No rush."

Kael Varr Basteil Skirata Vytal Noctura

 

[Vael Saren]

MANDALORE


It had been so long since Vael had been home. Even longer since he felt he was among peers. Even if all of the brothers and sisters here did not follow the Way as he did, they were all Force users. All of them had something beyond their connection to the Empire connecting them together. When the Warmistress called for all of Mandalore's Force Sensitive children to congregate here, he jumped at the call. Even with the training of the Jedi under his belt, he felt there was still much for him to learn in the ways of the Force. Being here could prove to be the best way to find someone willing to teach.

He sat, somewhat apart from the main group. Eager as he was, those years in solitude had left him... unprepared for mingling with a group that size. Instead, he sat down, cross-legged, and began to meditate. He used the Force to levitate his weapons from their places on his hip and began to disassemble them. Hopefully, he would be able to finish this session and reassemble them before anything got started.

 

[Kael Varr Basteil Skirata]

Mandalore

Kael looked to the newcomer, listening to her comments then responding in kind. “I watch her because that’s what I’ve known. I’m a hunter, and I have been a mechanic when times were lean. Watching is what I do best. My name is Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata…” he paused as if adjusting to the length of a name that had been short for a long time, “I came, yes, but I also want to meet the people I may serve beside, may become pack mates with whenever I’m sorted into my pack. That’s how I was told The Iron wolves were organized, no?” He would look down to his belt where his tonfa were mag clamped, “I used to use vibro-machete, but they don’t provide near the utility as these do. And I’m not as familiar with either as I am with my bow. What about you Veyla, what is your story?”

Veyla Krinn