Faction Packs of Iron | The Iron Wolves of Mandalore

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Location: Mandalore
Outfit: Dathomiri robes
Companion: Grisial
Equipment: Lightsaber, Ichor sword and Dathomiri Energy Bow
Tag: OPEN

A call had gone out to the witches from Vytal to meet on Mandalore. It was also sent to others who were within the Mandalorian Empire. The warden of Dathomir called to a large net it seemed and Dreidi was curious to see what the call was going to be about. The Iron Wolves was intriguing name, it seemed that the Dathomiri warden had embraced more of the Mandalorian cultures than Dreidi had noticed before the battle with the Diarchy. Perhaps that was in willingness to show the ways that Dathomir was willing to work alongside their allies, and the benefits that Dathomir brought to the planet. Make yourselves as desirable as possible to avoid being forgotten and thrown aside.

However, there were some concerns from Dreidi. Dathomir and the ways that the witches and natives lived their lives was allowed to remain traditional to Dathomiri ways. If their representative within the Mandalorian Empire was becoming more receptive to those ways, some might expect all of Dathomir to be like that. Something that would be met with the firmest of no's. Change was necessary and crucial but some traditions and ways of life could never be changed.

Even Dreidi understood the importance of that.

Stepping off her ship, Dreidi looked around at those attending the event. Mandalorians of differing backgrounds. Some that were not Mandalorian, or at least did not appear to be. However, Dreidi watched Vytal Noctura and listened as she discussed teaching lessons from Dathomir. And how what she taught was not about the ways of Jedi and Sith. Dreidi had to hold her tongue. While she was not one for publicly outbursts or arguments, Dreidi was not sure that they should be teaching outsiders Dathomiri ways.

Especially those who would never see Dathomir as home, or understand the importance of the ichor.

But Dreidi did hold her tongue, for now. She observed silently and walked more into the group. Her hand on the hilt of her sword as looked around. Curious to see what others would be up to. How they were taking in the information that Vytal was freely given. Hoping that this was going to be a move that would not backfire on Vytal, Dathomir and the people that Dreidi cared about. It felt like a massive risk to be sharing years of culture and heritage that had be insular. With good reasons, since it had been other Force Users that attempted to wipe them out in the past.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Kirae Orade

There was a lot of guilt weighing down the woman. So much she practically wore it like the beskar’gam the supercommandos wore. It was hard to figure out what, precisely, was going on with her but Adelle did catch glimpses of survivor’s guilt.

“I know a thing or two about curses,” she said softly. “They don’t scare me.”

The Mando gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and said something about Kael eating her out of house and home. Adelle scoffed lightly, hoping that further conversation would distract the young Wolf from whatever dour thoughts plagued them. Or at least, get them warmed up to the idea of trust.

“He can certainly try,” Adelle said, a hint of challenge in her voice. “If he actually succeeds, I’ll just send him out with his bow and tell him to bring back something.”

It was something she’d seen Skirata’s alor do to the teenagers in her house, sometimes as young as twelve or eleven: give them a tool and tell them to go get their own food if they were that hungry. And by all accounts, it seemed to be an effective tactic.

“I’m Adelle.” She held out her hand to the woman. “Will you join me by the fire, vod?”

 

[Kirae Orade]

Tags: Adelle Bastiel
​

Kirae stayed quietly as the stranger spoke. The way she offered to have Kirae sit by the fire. It was obvious to her what the stranger was doing. What Adelle was doing. She was hoping that by distracting Kirae, she would open up. Relax more around the others. It was a fools dream, but she'd go along with it, introducing herself to Adelle...whilst also leaving her hanging when it came to the handshake. Instead she made her way over towards the campfire, sitting herself down.

"Kirae."

Her mind continued to dwell however on the way Adelle had spoke. The pride she had. The challenge in her voice towards her ad. It made her wonder if her own parents would have thought the same. If they would have had the same pride that Adelle had. Or if they would be disappointed in her. If they thought she'd be some affront to her people, because of what she was. Yet she knew that ultimately she would never be able to hear the answer to that. She would never get the peace she wanted for...

The dead never spoke. The dead never answered. The dead never loved.
Their only response to her questions?
Cold. Dead. Silence. ​

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

The pale Witch turned to regard Vael Saren as he drew near and hailed her. "To the women of Dathomir tis Magick. Tis part of everything you see, hear, feel, breathe, or taste. Its power runs deep even as all you know is but a part of it. One may think of it as a tool or an ally. There is no shame in that, but it hides the truth. It implies limitation where there is none. A tool does what t'was designed to do. An ally does what it wishes to do. Magick does what you ask it to do."

"Though, away from Dathomir, you may know this power better as the Manda. Much remains the same though there are religious connotations to Mandalorian application. They may shape how you call upon it, but that too carries no shame. The only shame that comes in seeking knowledge is being too fearful to ask the right questions, or in being too prideful to know when you are not ready for the answers."

Then another's voice rose. One disdainful of celebration. Vytal didn't make any aggressive or defensive movements as the man with his hostile tone had made none himself. The blade in his hand and the fire in his soul had begged those near to challenge him out of sheer instinct, but otherwise there was no intent to strike.

"For life," the Warmaster's voice rose in Ordo 's wake. "To knowing there is a tomorrow where we will train and fight and return here again." It was not a rebuttle or a challenge to him, but a reassurance to all those in camp. Perhaps a storm would come. Storms often did. But Vytal had weathered storms before, and she would training these Pups and Wolves alike to do the same.

Dreidi Xeraic | Siv Kryze | OPEN​

 

[Vael Saren]

The dilver-clad warrior chewed on what the Nightsister had said to him. He had never considered that perspective. The Force as an extension of the manda; it was a foreign concept. It did make a sort of sense, though. The Force was the binding agent of life, of death, of reality itself. Of course it would naturally extend to the afterlife, to the great oversoul of manda. He wondered why he had never considered this before, as deeply as he believed in the Mandalorian religion.

"Your perspective is an interesting one," he said after some time spent in contemplation, "Your wisdom humbles me. While my biases against... certain applications of the Force are too deeply ingrained to truly shake, I hope that, should the opportunity arise, you might share more of your knowledge with me. I am eager to learn all I can about how to use these gifts I have been bestowed. I want to be all I can and serve Mandalore to the utmost of my abilities. That is my Way."

Vytal Noctura

 

[Ashé Fenn]

Location: Yaga Minor
Objectives:l: Observe and interact
Tags: Sanguina Krev

"There is nothing more beautiful, pure and hypnotic."

"I think its my favourite thing in this place, I like to watch it and try to predict how it will move." she held out her hand and lifted up a piece of fire, allowing it to coil, twist and burn for a few seconds until the flame realised it was no longer attached to any fuel.

She turned to look at the other woman, she was a force user too, that much was evident just be looking at her. "Which one are you?" she asked. The white woman's gaze looked as if she was trying to focus on something beyond Sanguina, and by her inflection it was sure if her question was a direct question or simply her voicing her internal curiosity.

She extended her hand "Ashé" There was a half smile as Ashé's focus turned towards Sanguina's physical over her metaphysical and she looked at her hair, similar to her own, but longer. "It is very pretty" she added, giving no clues as to what "it" might be.

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla noticed Siv before he even reached the edge of the firelight; she always did, not because he demanded attention, but because he possessed that quiet alignment of space common to leaders who need not perform to be present. After giving Kael's arm a brief, encouraging squeeze and promising a "storm first, dance after," she drifted away from the brighter edges of the camp to stop beside Siv. Close enough for intimacy, yet far enough to respect his silence.

"You always choose the edges, even when everyone else is burning themselves out in the middle," she observed quietly, her gaze following his across the gathering where their people were slowly learning how to exist without the immediate threat of death. "It's strange, isn't it? After everything, this feels harder than the fighting because there are no formations or clear enemies. Just people trying to figure out who they are when they aren't bleeding."

The air shifted suddenly as a weight settled over the camp. A pressure change signaled a storm named Jasper, and while Veyla didn't move, her attention sharpened as she watched Mia transform from mentor to warrior in a single breath. "That won't stay quiet," she murmured, her assessment devoid of fear but heavy with the realization that the night had shifted from celebration toward consequence.

She remained anchored beside him, a steady presence between the dying embers and the encroaching shadows of new conflicts. "You being here like this, not commanding or performing, matters more than you think," she said sincerely, gesturing subtly toward the camp where the others looked to his stillness as permission to breathe. "They see you still steady, and it holds them together…but how are you holding up?"

Kael Varr Basteil Skirata Siv Kryze

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

"Good. Tis the Way I teach." There was a faint smirk on those dark lips.

"Tis no Right or Wrong in the Manda, or the Force, or in Magick," the Witch declared louder for more to hear. "No Good or Evil. Light or Dark. What you bring to your gifts will empower them, or corrupt them. If they spring from your Will how else would it be? If your heart is full of hatred, you cannot heal. If tis full of peace, it cannot torture. You are the sole arbiter of how you manifest your power in this life or the next."

Vytal slowly turned so her voice could carry in multiple directions, "Some Mandalorians may still harbor resentment toward those with 'abilities.' They may think you weak, unable to brave the rigors of a 'true' Mandalorian. I tell you all now tis not so -- unless you Will it to be so. We will train hard together. We will become strong together. And together we will show those that look upon us with skepticism or disdain our place is beside them. It has always been so. It will always be so."

"This... is Our Way."

Her emerald gaze fell back upon Vael Saren . "Whatever way you seek to use the power is your choice, but you will be given those choices." Light, Dark, somewhere in-between didn't matter to Vytal Noctura. Oh, she was 'Dark' so far as the galaxy was concerned, but knowledge knew no boundaries.

OPEN
Veyla Krinn | Ashé Fenn | Sanguina Krev | Siv Kryze | Kael Varr Basteil Skirata | Adelle Bastiel | Kirae Orade | Dreidi Xeraic | Mia Monroe | Liorra | Ordo​

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

MANDALORE​

​

Siv didn't answer right away.

He watched the fire a moment longer, listening to the drums fade into uneven rhythms as attention slowly shifted toward whatever tension was building elsewhere in camp. The wind rolled across the plateau, carrying smoke and cold air between them.

Then he glanced toward Veyla Krinn

"I saw you with the kid," he said simply.

His chin tipped slightly toward where Kael stood, no longer quite as isolated as before.

"You weren't trying to teach him how to fight. You were teaching him how to stand here." A faint huff of breath — almost amusement. "That's harder."

He shifted his weight, resting a gauntleted hand against his belt.

"When you first showed up," Siv continued, voice calm and even, "you carried everything tight. Like you were waiting for someone to tell you you didn't belong." He paused, choosing the words without rushing them. "You listened more than you spoke. Stayed on the edges. Measured every step."

A small nod followed.

"You don't do that anymore."

His gaze moved across the gathering — Kael talking instead of watching, others easing into conversation, tension slowly melting into something closer to trust.

"They're settling because someone showed them how," he said. "You didn't realize you were doing it, but they're watching you the same way you used to watch everyone else."

The fire cracked between them.

"I helped you find your footing back then," Siv added quietly. "That was my job." A brief pause. "Now you're doing it for them."

There was no grand tone to it — just recognition, spoken plainly.

"That's how this works. One of us learns how to stand… then makes it easier for the next one."

He finally looked back at her fully.

"You came a long way, Veyla. You stopped trying to prove yourself and started making space for other people to figure themselves out." A slight tilt of his head. "That matters more than any victory we've had lately."

The pressure in the air shifted again — the storm brewing somewhere behind them — but Siv didn't immediately turn toward it.

"You asked how I'm holding up," he said. "Seeing you do that? Seeing them start to steady themselves?"

A faint nod.

"Means I don't have to carry as much alone anymore."

Not praise. Not sentimentality. Just truth.

"You found your place," he finished. "Now you're helping build one for the rest of them."

Tags: Kirae Orade | Vytal Noctura | Kael Varr Basteil Skirata | Vael Saren | Veyla Krinn | Adelle Bastiel

 

[Talohn Atar]

COME GET SOME CURRY. CURRY TO A HUNGRY STOMACH!

Talohn had gone ahead of the others he had brought with him. His fang type starfighter would be able to be seen landing in the distance. He was excited, to be certain, but he primarily arrived ahead of the other guests that were coming with him so he could set up what he brought. It'd be about fifteen to twenty minutes before he arrived. Talohn had always had differing attire preferences from his Mandalorian fellows. Where the others would always be kitted out in their armor, Talohn reserved that for battle. Or ceremonies that absolutely demanded it. With that grayish blue fur and those orange colored eyes, he'd be easy to spot as he showed up at the edge of the camp, arriving from the forest path. He was dressed in dark brown cargo pants with black leather boots, a dark brown bomber jacket, and a white shirt. As always, his pistol and lightsaber were holstered at his side. His final accessory was an apron. His arms were filled by a massive pot, from which steam arose from the holes in the lid to bless the camp with a fragrant yet somewhat spicy scent. A massive hiking backpack hanging from his shoulders emitted all sorts of clanging as he strode into the camp proper.

Much to what might be her slight concern given his carefree and aloof nature, Talohn strolls up to Vytal first. She would be subject to the slight chorus of clanging from the backpack as he came to stand before her, head craning to the side so he could properly get a look at her from behind the pot. "Aha. Found you." Deciding it was high time he gave himself some rest, he places down the pot, unslinging the backpack from his shoulders to set that down as well. He takes a moment to stretch his arms and roll his shoulders before he speaks, that signature goofy grin of his widening across his face. "Nethermother. Been a minute. Since that meeting where I brought up cathar to The Iron, I think?" He arches a brow, then waves a hand dismissively. "Nevermind that. Gotta hurry and get this somewhere warm before it cools down on us." The pot, which was tall enough that it came to just below his waist, is knocked on by his knuckles with a metal clang. "I brought curry. Lots of curry. I have bowls and utensils in my bag. Rice and flat bread as well." He nods sagely before leaning his head in the direction of the fire. "Could I put it there? It's not being used for any ceremonial purposes, is it? I would hate to interrupt or intrude." He chuckles.

He reaches to pull a ladle out of his bag, his other hand opening the pot to reveal a creamy dark orange curry that seems to be filled with chunks of marinated and seared poultry. He takes a scoop of it into the ladle and holds it up in Vytal's general direction. "Care to have a taste? You seem like the sort to enjoy a dish that has a nice kick of spice to it."

Vytal Noctura Zlova Rue Leea Pandac @Open

 

[Sanguina Krev]

​

Tag: Ashé Fenn

"Mmhmm..." Sanguina offered a quiet affirmation. Fire was second only to life blood in the things that fascinated the woman. She watched as the pale stranger gathered a flame upon her fingers, seeing it dancer there until it extinguished. Sanguina nodded, admiring someone who could appreciate something as simple yet unpredictable as fire.

The spiritspeaker clasp the offered hand. "Sanquina. Well met, sister." She replied with a grin. "I am Mandalorian," answering Ashe's first question. She noted light gray eyes, nearly the same color as her own, admiring the Iron Wolf's long black and silver dreadlocks that reached down her back and cascaded over her shoulders. "Thank you." Sanquina replied to the Umbaran woman, who appeared younger, yet didn't 'feel' so. "You are pretty." The Mandalorian answered unashamedly. Ashe was rather unique overall, not only in her exotic monochromatic features, but in a very metaphysical way.

Ashe wasn't Mando, but she didn't seem to be one of Vytal's sisters either. "And which one are you?" Sanguina asked, turning her own question back.

 

[Kael Varr Basteil Skirata]

Mandalore

Kael let her go without words. He didn't understand what storm Veyla Krinn was referring to, but he wouldn't monopolize her time. Instead, he would drift toward his adopted mother, Adelle Bastiel , so that, should there be a threat, he could follow her directions and lend his weapons to protect her if she needed to fulfill her medic duties here. He didn't interrupt her conversation with the other person by the fire, but he stayed within easy-shielding range.

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla did not answer him immediately, choosing instead to watch the fire as it worked through a thick knot of wood. She followed a thin ribbon of smoke that curled upward, unraveled in the wind, and finally disappeared into the vast darkness above. The drums had lost their earlier cohesion and were replaced by uneven rhythms and distracted hands, while somewhere behind them, a certain tension still lingered, not quite sharp but entirely present.

Siv's words settled heavier than the night air, and while she did not attempt to deflect them, she did not absorb them easily either. A faint breath left her nose in a way that was almost a quiet laugh, though there was very little humor to be found in the sound.

"You make it sound as though it were entirely intentional," she said, her voice barely rising above the crackle of the embers.

Her gaze drifted toward Kael, who stood now within the circle instead of orbiting it. He was speaking and moving, though he was not quite at ease; he was clearly trying to find his footing.

"I wasn't trying to teach him anything in particular," she said more quietly than before. "I just happened to remember exactly what it felt like to be the one on the outside watching everyone else."

She shifted her weight and rested her forearms lightly along her knees, settling into a more grounded posture.

"It is always easier to stand your ground when someone else doesn't look like they are simply waiting to be asked to leave," she explained, her words simple and honest rather than dramatic.

At his mention of how she used to carry herself, her jaw tightened faintly in a gesture of recognition rather than offense.

"I was waiting," she admitted after a long moment of reflection. "I wasn't waiting for permission, but I was certainly waiting for correction."

Her eyes returned to the fire, the orange light dancing across the dark visor of her helmet.

"House names carry a tremendous amount of weight, and the name Kryze carries more than most. You either live up to that legacy or you spend your entire life bracing for the moment someone tells you that you failed to do so."

She glanced at him then, her expression thoughtful rather than defensive.

"I simply didn't want to take up space that I felt I hadn't properly earned yet."

The wind shifted again and pushed a cloud of smoke sideways between them, momentarily obscuring her silhouette.

"It turns out that no one actually hands you a place in this galaxy," she added, her voice quieter but steadier than it had been all night. "You have to build it for yourself. Or, sometimes, you make a place for someone else and realize that it fits you perfectly too."

At his comment about her not having to carry quite as much alone anymore, something in her expression softened into a look of profound relief.

"You were steady at a time when I wasn't," she said plainly, giving him the truth without any embellishment. "You didn't try to fix me or change my path. You just stayed where you were and didn't move."

A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth as she looked at him.

"That is much harder to do than it sounds."

She leaned back slightly and let her eyes move across the camp to watch the Wolves finding their rhythm even with a storm gathering at the edges of their world.

"If they are watching us," she said, "I hope that what they see isn't someone who has already figured everything out."

Her gaze returned to him and held steady.

"I hope they see someone who is still working at it every single day."

There was a brief pause as the fire popped, throwing a stray spark into the dirt.

"That is the only part of this that I truly trust."

The fire cracked softly between them, the heat a physical presence in the small space they shared.

"And for the record," she added, her tone turning lighter and more familiar, "I didn't actually stop standing on the edges."

Her eyes flicked toward him with a quiet, shared understanding of their history together.

"I just learned that the edges are much easier to hold when you are not standing on them alone."

Siv Kryze

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Kirae Orade | Kael Varr Basteil Skirata

For just a moment, a brief moment, annoyance sharpened Adelle’s eyes as she spared a sidelong look at Kirae’s back, the young woman walking to the fire. Leaving Adelle’s hand extended and empty.

Manners. How hard was it to show manners?

Adelle blew out a breath of air and rolled her neck and shoulders, breathing out the sharp, bitter feeling. Kirae had isolated herself intentionally at this gathering. It seemed like that isolation was something she’d internalized. Adelle followed and sat down next to Kirae, accepting a mug of ne’tra gal from someone, and stretched out in front of the fire.

Kael had wandered closer, Veyla having moved on. It was still very strange to think she had a son, even adopted. For the longest time, it had just been her and Phantom.

“Kael’ika,” she said, acknowledging him. “Who have you talked to tonight? Remember, your goal is three.”

She held up the appropriate fingers as her spukami materialized from shadows and walked across her like she wasn’t there. Phantom sat and started grooming, a self-satisfied air to her. Adelle gave the feline a stare—someone had probably fallen prey to her begging and gave her food she wouldn’t normally get.

“That’s Phantom,” Adelle said to Kirae, nodding at the black feline. “Don’t let her fool you, she’s eaten enough tonight.”

Phantom looked up while licking a paw, set it down, and half-closed her eyes in Adelle’s direction. <<Not fat.>>

She picked up her other paw and began to fastidiously clean it.

 

[Leea Pandac]

The Cathar was not alone in arriving out of his Mandalorian armor. Following more slowly, the Mirialan's fighter craft, an old make from some now long gone galactic power, settled in a clearing near to that familiar fang starfigher that Talohn currently rode. Passing along the forest paths, Leea listened closely to the distant sounds that filled the place, her senses alive even as she tried to focus on the immediate celebration.

Celebration! That's what this was? It was unlike any occasion she had seen before. It was not the garrulous songs and reckless games of fighter pilots and commonfolk, neither was it the polite conversations and subdued dances of officers and nobles. Like a ghostly wisp hovering on the edge of the light, uncertain if the fire's brightness might reveal some insubstantial horror. If not for the glint of her footwear, one might be forgiven for mistaking the newcomer for a spectre of some longpast war, or perhaps a transient somehow stumbling here from the backalleys of Nal Hutta. The boots of Mandalorian Iron fit snugly around her feet, a concession to traversing the wilderness that was rougher than a starship's carefully formed passageways. But beyond that, she was hardly the image of a Mandalorian. Loosely fitted leggings that bunched baggily over her ankles were a dirty brown, some attempt at formal folding could be seen in the way a perfectly neat crease had clearly been sonically ironed into the material. More fitted and surprisingly well kept, her shirt and jacket, a uniform of some variety, seemed more at home on a desert world than in this richly verdant environ.

For a brief moment, eyes wide anad green skin a shadowy orange and grey in the fire's light. Then, as if realizing how ridiculous it was to stand on the edge of such a party, Leea passed into the warmth and revelry. She carried no food, but she smiled warmly and the tension dissolved. Her hands were tucked into her pockets, but as a Spirit offered a drink, Leea swiftly pulled them out to accept. She did not drink immediately, nor did she approach the cavalier feline who had approached the Nethermother, uneasy around the being and still adjusting to the culture of Mandalorian camaraderie after so long apart. Instead, she found a quiet spot near the fire where the warm overcame the chill. She began to nurse her drink, sipping at the flavorful brew.

From her spot, Leea listened to the conversations passing about her. She was surprised, not by the variety for that was a given in Mandalorian culture; rather, it was the almost normalacy of conversations. She might have expected this sort of talk in a cantina! Her eyes, the dark rings beneath them showing her weariness still recovering, glanced from group to group, watching and listening. This may be an interesting event after all!

Talohn Atar @Open

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

MANDALORE​

​

Siv let the silence sit comfortably after her words, the fire snapping softly as another piece of wood gave way to heat. He watched the sparks climb into the dark for a moment before answering, expression thoughtful but lighter than before.

"Good," he said quietly. "Anyone who thinks they've figured everything out usually stops learning."

His gaze drifted across the camp again — Wolves talking louder now, movement easier, the awkwardness wearing off little by little.

"That part never changes," he added. "You just learn how to live with uncertainty without letting it make your decisions for you."

When she spoke about legacy, about the weight of names, Siv huffed a faint breath through his nose — recognition more than amusement.

"Yeah," he said. "Names do that. Especially ours."

He tilted his head slightly toward her, a small, knowing smirk forming.

"We're Kryze," he added dryly. "Apparently we're supposed to have everything together at all times. Legacy to uphold and all that."

The humor was gentle, self-aware rather than dismissive.

"Truth is," he continued, "most of us are just trying not to embarrass the last generation while hoping the next one turns out better."

He shifted slightly, resting his arms loosely on his knees.

"Nobody here was waiting for you to fail, Veyla. They were waiting to see who you were once you stopped bracing for judgment." A small shrug followed. "Turns out you were already doing fine."

At her comment about him staying steady, he shook his head faintly.

"I didn't stay because I knew what I was doing," Siv said. "I stayed because leaving people to figure things out alone rarely makes them stronger. Just quieter."

His eyes flicked back toward Kael, now fully part of a conversation instead of orbiting one.

"You gave him enough space to stand on his own," he said. "That's usually all anyone needs."

The drums faltered somewhere behind them, then picked back up in uneven rhythm.

Siv listened for a second before adding, tone lighter again,

"And for the record — standing on the edges isn't a flaw. Someone has to watch the horizon." He glanced sideways at her. "Kryze habit, I think."

A brief pause, comfortable.

"Besides," he added with a faint smirk, "edges make it easier to slip away when speeches start."

Tags: Kirae Orade | Vytal Noctura | Kael Varr Basteil Skirata | Vael Saren | Veyla Krinn | Adelle Bastiel

 

[Kael Varr Basteil Skirata]

Mandalore

Kael looked to his mother and, in a quiet voice, said, "Yes, Buir, I have spoken to one, but she now seems to be conferring with her own Alor." He said as he worked to ratchet down his own tension and alertness. He sat down next to Phantom and slowly tried to pet the creature. It had been a goal of his to try to earn the feline's trust, and the exercise forced him to calm himself so as not to disturb the feline overmuch. He took note of the other female that his Buir was talking to and said softly, "You look like someone who has lost everything. I have seen that look in the children like me back on my home world after the slave raids, and in the mirror after my first founder ditched me on Concordia. You may not know how those you have lost would react to you now, but you have the whole of the Manda to either strengthen by your hand or weaken by inaction. You cannot change the past, that much my Buir has taught me in short order, but what you choose to do in this moment, and the next and the next, can shape your whole future."

Kael would then look to Adelle Bastiel , "That's two, Buir"

Mentioned: Kirae Orade

 

[Julra Repraj]

​

The night did not explode or shimmer when Julra arrived. It tightened.

The firelight bent first, stretching sideways as though the air had been pulled thin between invisible hands. Sound dulled for a breath, drums warping off-beat, the wind seeming to catch in its throat. Then a line appeared in the space just beyond the edge of the fire's glow no wider than a blade at first, a vertical fracture where reality had been persuaded to part.

It did not blaze green like common Dathomiri ichor. It did not roar. It folded.

The seam widened with unnatural precision, edges smooth and unnervingly clean, revealing not light but depth layered, shifting darkness threaded with faint glints like distant stars dragged too close together. The sensation of it pressed against the skin, a subtle wrongness, as though the plateau now existed in two adjacent moments at once.

Julra stepped out of that fracture as though stepping through a doorway she had used before.

Her boots touched earth and stone with measured certainty, and the seam remained open just long enough to suggest that something else might follow before it stitched itself closed with a soft, inward collapse. No flare. No residual glow. Just the quiet correction of space reasserting itself.

She stood slight but composed, A red hooded cloak framed her face, the fabric deep and well-kept, falling cleanly over her shoulders. Beneath it, fitted black leather armor hugged her form, practical rather than ornate a reinforced bodice with subtle plating worked into its structure. Fair skin caught the firelight in muted tones. Blue eyes, cool and assessing, moved once across the gathering. They did not linger long enough to invite conversation. Long blonde hair slipped forward from beneath the hood in a haphazard fall, catching briefly against the red of the cloak.

She inclined her head once toward Vytal Noctura in acknowledgment, nothing more, and then the scent of spice reached her.

Talohn Atar and his massive pot became the only destination that mattered. She approached without weaving into conversation, "I'll take some" she said evenly, accepting a bowl and serving herself with quiet efficiency. Rice first, then curry, ladled carefully. A portion sized neither indulgent nor sparse. Flatbread folded cleanly along the rim.

She tasted it with the same scrutiny she might apply to a ritual circle. A brief "It's good." That was all.

She did not remain to exchange pleasantries or entertain curiosity about the tear she had left in the air moments ago. The bowl settled securely in her hand, cloak shifting in a controlled sweep of red as she turned away from the cooking fire.

She moved through the gathering without truly entering it, the celebration flowing around her rather than pulling her in. Julra came to stand beside Viana, the other who had stepped through with her. positioning herself just outside the densest circle of warmth and light. She took another measured bite, expression unchanged.

"Expending that much energy has a cost" she said quietly, voice calm and detached. "Folding distance. Holding it open. It burns through more than most realize. It also tends to make me hungry."

There was no invitation in the statement, no elaboration. She simply stood there, composed and self-contained, eating while the drums resumed and the fire continued to burn as though space had not been parted moments before.

​

TAG: Viana Morreth + OPEN

 

[Viana Morreth]

Tags: Julra Repraj


It was truly impressive skill, and a sight to behold. The way the space just pulled itself open, nothing bright and inviting, nor dark and foreboding. It was just a tear in space and Viana had watched from preparation to delivery. Granted, there was not so much as a twitch of an eyebrow to reveal that she had been impressed, and she did not fawn over the witch responsible when it was done. Instead, she followed through the tear and somehow managed not to shudder when she emerged on the other side behind Julra.

Her hands still reached up to dust her arms even though there was nothing lingering on her skin, and her gaze slowly swept the scene around them. Fire and food…and Vytal Noctura amidst the gathering. Somehow this did not surprise her and still she smirked as she stepped away from the place she and Julra had appeared from. “What, no formal invitation? I’m hurt, Nightmother.”

There was no waiting for a response, Viana was good at keeping herself out of conversation when she wanted to, and even better at assessing others as she came across them. Reading people had become somewhat second nature to the white haired witch, and for good reason. Though if she were being perfectly honest with herself, there was not one face in the immediate vicinity that jumped out and demanded attention. As such, she meandered to the outer rim of the fire to perch beside Julra.

“I can only imagine what it takes from you.” She didn’t disagree that, that level of skill was costly. Vi knew personally what tolls magic could take. "Show off." Her frame then leaned only enough to see within the contents of her companion’s bowl before a slender brow lofted. “Do you even know what you’re putting into your body right now?”

 

[Eenia Vahn]

​

TAG: Open
Wearing: [X]


Late…how had she let herself be late? A formal call, a gathering of the Iron Wolves, and Eenia had managed to arrive unceremoniously behind schedule. She did not like being late to things, anything for that matter, and the fact that she could see the others all sat around, conversing and what have you as she approached? It created an uncomfortable knot in the healer’s stomach. By no means was she a shy person, it was impossible to be shy as a healer, but she did have the occasional tussle with anxiety over the silliest of situations.

Like being late enough to a gathering that everyone else had settled for the time being…

Regardless, she made her way to the bonfire, stepping into the circle of warmth with a sigh. Her eyes fell closed and she took a moment or two to try and collect herself and stifle that nagging little voice in the back of her head that was trying to make her a mess.

When she did finally open her eyes again, she gave a slow and steady look around at those gathered around. A few faces she at least recognized - and Adelle Bastiel she of course waved to, but she didn’t approach to interrupt anything. For now she observed, and she listened to the conversations around her to see if she could fit herself in somewhere as seamlessly as possible.