Rynn Vizsla
Spawnslayer
"This day, I release you from all allegiance to the Galactic Republic. The Mando'ade are your clan now."
Cassus Fett, Field Marshal of the Neo-Crusader Host.
Welcome, Cousin. Take a seat by the Hearthfire, and drink your fill. For today, I shall tell you the tale of our Founding. It's not a tale that many speak with any clarity; as with all things, these events are flavoured by perception. One side of the story is told, whilst the truth becomes buried in assumptions or lies. So, take these words as you will, but know that I - we - believe them to be true.
It began with the Red Coronation all those years ago. When the One who called herself the Hellwolf, who we've proclaimed to be the Unworthy, claimed the throne of Mandalore. The Clans were divided like they always have been in the past. But, this time, many of the Chieftains wouldn't follow the Unworthy. They refused to bend the knee before a Child who knew little of our ways. Tensions rose, and when our blood gets hot - we Mandalorians act.
Some of our kin foolishly gave their lives in the hopes of assassinating the newly ascended Mandalore. They failed, and through their failure, the Unworthy began to reshape the Empire. The very one, our forefathers, had carved out amongst the stars. Her weakness spread throughout the Clans that remained loyal to her misguided cause. However, as the Clans were still recovering from yet another Civil War, which sundered our collective strength, those that went into self-imposed exile took to the Stars. They were the lucky ones.
They weren't around to see the Unworthy's influence corrupt the Clans from within. After generations of fighting the Sith and their myriad Empires, that foolish Pup threw her lot in with that Order of Dark Sorcerers. According to rumour, and as fate would have it, the Unworthy was allegedly related to the reigning Sith Emperor and his bastard's seed. Many of the Clans explained her madness and further reinforced the sobriquet that was later bequeathed.
Not long after this dark pact was forged, the Clans of Mandalore were united in their folly. Their arrogance and idealism led to their downfall as the Galaxy declared them to be the enemy of all and banded together to defeat them. To no-one's surprise, as the remaining Clans were embarrassingly defeated in Battle after Battle - the Sith Empire stabbed the Unworthy in the back, seeking to devastate the Homeworld in the process.
While their assault was initially repulsed, thanks in part to the previous Mandalore - Ra Vizsla - returning from the dead, the Sorcerous Empire broke what resolve remained between the Clans.
They, too, scattered to themselves across the solar tides as the Sith Empire returned in greater numbers to lay claim to Mandalore. Many of those that swore themselves to the Creed believed that this would become the last time the Clans stood united. They knew that they didn't have the strength to resist the violent and oppressive occupation of the Sith. Yet, some believed they could fight back. An Underground Network of Freedom Fighters was established by those who sided with the Unworthy.
They, alongside the more Zealous Clans, sought to gather their strength and reclaim their lost Homeworld. However, as they took to the fields of Wayland, those Cowards tucked tail. They ran - leaving the Sons of Mandalore to fend for themselves against the onslaught of the Sith as they fought their way off-world. There is honour in withdrawing from a fight you know you can't win, and none shall ever shame you for it. Yes, you may lose the battle today, but there is a chance that you can win the war tomorrow. So long as you never turn your back to your enemy, none shall ever brand three as a Coward.
To be named a Craven wretch - is the worst fate any who swear themselves to the Creed can endure.
The Sons of Mandalore were Crusaders in the beginning. A Band of Misfits and Clans that refused to bend to the Unworthy's command. They bound themselves together fiery sermons and blood-oaths that committed them to the cause. As it would turn out, the cause aligned perfectly with that of the nascent New Imperial Order. You may know them as former Sith Imperials. They grew tired of being mindlessly sacrificed at the behest and whim of those that lorded over them. While the Sons decided to stand beside these New Imperials, the rest of the Clans were silent. Seemingly content upon consigning themselves to the shadows.
They sold what was left of their souls to scrape out a living on distant rocks and simply survive until another day dawned. The Sons of Mandalore were content with these truths. Let them suckle upon the teats of their new masters, some would cry. The Sons would reap the Glory of being true heroes to the scattered Mandalorian people. They would reclaim Mandalore by blaster and beskad and oust the Sorcerous Empire from the Sector. While many sought to stop there, the blood-oaths would bind many to the fate we all now share.
However, before that vision of reality came to pass, something curious rose from the shadows of history. What remained of the Unworthy's legacy - banded together with elements of the disparate Clans amongst the Stars - to form a Union of sorts. Their goals were similar to the zealous Sons… One would think that this Union would seek out their erstwhile brothers and Sisters to forge a bond of convenience between Cousins. Yet, they childishly proclaimed the Sons to be nothing more than Imperial puppets.
I can't imagine how orderly we would become if such claims were true, especially with an Imperial arm halfway up our…
Nevertheless, the Sons were saddened by the path this Union had taken. Together, they could've ousted those Dark Sorcerers from their Homeworlds. But, alone and divided - they didn't stand a chance. Not without support from another Interstellar Nation. Yet, even as the Sons of Mandalore began rallying themselves to make one final push into the heart of their stolen homeland - the Union sought to deny us of that Glory. For reasons unknown, the Sith and their Empire began falling back from the Mandalore sector - purposefully leaving the desiccated worlds to their fate.
Thus, the Union saw its chance - as all Carrion do after a battle ends. They struck out from shadowy havens and ports unseen, with thousands of Soldiers, all proclaiming themselves to be Mandalorian. It was… a sight to behold. Sadly, they laid at the Sons' feet because of the dishonour - it was a feat that couldn't go unanswered. The Oathsworn - the most elite of our number - sallied forth to give those Cowards their due. But, before their Ships could sail across the Solar tides, an Old friend of the Sons resurfaced and informed the Oathsworn of a vile plot that sought to further despoil Mandalore.
While the Union would cut their teeth upon the fleeing Sith and eventually slay the puppet we've come to know as the Kneeler - the Oathsworn speared towards the planet. Driving forth into the very heart of the darkness that sought to poison what remained of their beloved world.
It began with the Red Coronation all those years ago. When the One who called herself the Hellwolf, who we've proclaimed to be the Unworthy, claimed the throne of Mandalore. The Clans were divided like they always have been in the past. But, this time, many of the Chieftains wouldn't follow the Unworthy. They refused to bend the knee before a Child who knew little of our ways. Tensions rose, and when our blood gets hot - we Mandalorians act.
Some of our kin foolishly gave their lives in the hopes of assassinating the newly ascended Mandalore. They failed, and through their failure, the Unworthy began to reshape the Empire. The very one, our forefathers, had carved out amongst the stars. Her weakness spread throughout the Clans that remained loyal to her misguided cause. However, as the Clans were still recovering from yet another Civil War, which sundered our collective strength, those that went into self-imposed exile took to the Stars. They were the lucky ones.
They weren't around to see the Unworthy's influence corrupt the Clans from within. After generations of fighting the Sith and their myriad Empires, that foolish Pup threw her lot in with that Order of Dark Sorcerers. According to rumour, and as fate would have it, the Unworthy was allegedly related to the reigning Sith Emperor and his bastard's seed. Many of the Clans explained her madness and further reinforced the sobriquet that was later bequeathed.
Not long after this dark pact was forged, the Clans of Mandalore were united in their folly. Their arrogance and idealism led to their downfall as the Galaxy declared them to be the enemy of all and banded together to defeat them. To no-one's surprise, as the remaining Clans were embarrassingly defeated in Battle after Battle - the Sith Empire stabbed the Unworthy in the back, seeking to devastate the Homeworld in the process.
While their assault was initially repulsed, thanks in part to the previous Mandalore - Ra Vizsla - returning from the dead, the Sorcerous Empire broke what resolve remained between the Clans.
They, too, scattered to themselves across the solar tides as the Sith Empire returned in greater numbers to lay claim to Mandalore. Many of those that swore themselves to the Creed believed that this would become the last time the Clans stood united. They knew that they didn't have the strength to resist the violent and oppressive occupation of the Sith. Yet, some believed they could fight back. An Underground Network of Freedom Fighters was established by those who sided with the Unworthy.
They, alongside the more Zealous Clans, sought to gather their strength and reclaim their lost Homeworld. However, as they took to the fields of Wayland, those Cowards tucked tail. They ran - leaving the Sons of Mandalore to fend for themselves against the onslaught of the Sith as they fought their way off-world. There is honour in withdrawing from a fight you know you can't win, and none shall ever shame you for it. Yes, you may lose the battle today, but there is a chance that you can win the war tomorrow. So long as you never turn your back to your enemy, none shall ever brand three as a Coward.
To be named a Craven wretch - is the worst fate any who swear themselves to the Creed can endure.
The Sons of Mandalore were Crusaders in the beginning. A Band of Misfits and Clans that refused to bend to the Unworthy's command. They bound themselves together fiery sermons and blood-oaths that committed them to the cause. As it would turn out, the cause aligned perfectly with that of the nascent New Imperial Order. You may know them as former Sith Imperials. They grew tired of being mindlessly sacrificed at the behest and whim of those that lorded over them. While the Sons decided to stand beside these New Imperials, the rest of the Clans were silent. Seemingly content upon consigning themselves to the shadows.
They sold what was left of their souls to scrape out a living on distant rocks and simply survive until another day dawned. The Sons of Mandalore were content with these truths. Let them suckle upon the teats of their new masters, some would cry. The Sons would reap the Glory of being true heroes to the scattered Mandalorian people. They would reclaim Mandalore by blaster and beskad and oust the Sorcerous Empire from the Sector. While many sought to stop there, the blood-oaths would bind many to the fate we all now share.
However, before that vision of reality came to pass, something curious rose from the shadows of history. What remained of the Unworthy's legacy - banded together with elements of the disparate Clans amongst the Stars - to form a Union of sorts. Their goals were similar to the zealous Sons… One would think that this Union would seek out their erstwhile brothers and Sisters to forge a bond of convenience between Cousins. Yet, they childishly proclaimed the Sons to be nothing more than Imperial puppets.
I can't imagine how orderly we would become if such claims were true, especially with an Imperial arm halfway up our…
Nevertheless, the Sons were saddened by the path this Union had taken. Together, they could've ousted those Dark Sorcerers from their Homeworlds. But, alone and divided - they didn't stand a chance. Not without support from another Interstellar Nation. Yet, even as the Sons of Mandalore began rallying themselves to make one final push into the heart of their stolen homeland - the Union sought to deny us of that Glory. For reasons unknown, the Sith and their Empire began falling back from the Mandalore sector - purposefully leaving the desiccated worlds to their fate.
Thus, the Union saw its chance - as all Carrion do after a battle ends. They struck out from shadowy havens and ports unseen, with thousands of Soldiers, all proclaiming themselves to be Mandalorian. It was… a sight to behold. Sadly, they laid at the Sons' feet because of the dishonour - it was a feat that couldn't go unanswered. The Oathsworn - the most elite of our number - sallied forth to give those Cowards their due. But, before their Ships could sail across the Solar tides, an Old friend of the Sons resurfaced and informed the Oathsworn of a vile plot that sought to further despoil Mandalore.
While the Union would cut their teeth upon the fleeing Sith and eventually slay the puppet we've come to know as the Kneeler - the Oathsworn speared towards the planet. Driving forth into the very heart of the darkness that sought to poison what remained of their beloved world.
To be Updated after the Mandalore Rebellion.