Private The Fires Of The Hearth

[Caeos Prahl]

Caeos Prahl
Location - Great Forges of Mandalore
[Invitations to the Forge by request over Comms]

​

One might ask themselves if it was all an illusion, Mandalore rebuilt and of course Sundari with
its architecture that illuminated the past in it’s grandeur and towers. Yet it was still different from the place of industry she had known in her youth. Caeos had studied the city plans the first rotation back, just as the Neo Crusade called all to rally and out of sheer curiosity she had to wonder how many souls lived that recalled it before Hammerfall.

She still detested the name, it was the concoction of some Sith sworn to name their destruction. The Great Forge itself had stood the time of all destruction present and past at least, though Caeos had been a child at the height of it’s operations-only a spectator to others at work amidst it’s blue fires. The heat was palatable here, though not industrialized-the caves below the surface had served as refugee many time over and strictly left uncolonized.

A place had been cut out for her amongst the hundred hammers, forgers from different sects of Mandalore’s fractured people. The last of her own tools and her kin’s had been unloaded off hover carts, just before the great ignition at their center. Few that had carried their Clan name had served here in the distant past, they had been in service of the manufacturer plants and businesses invested in ships and weaponry. It wasn’t dissimilar, but as Caeos dragged a glove along the edge of the burning circle-the flames reflected from her worn helm. This was a purpose more sacred than that.

<”Account for all our tools, electrical and wiring will take place here and I will need our anvil in conjunction to the power press-”> the woman rasped, nephews, cousins, kin alike who moved with the prowess of youth abiding. The forge would need some time to re-temper, to cleanse itself and it's fires to stabilize. Time was on her hands and helm tilted back to take in the hall.

The triple hammer of her Clan was emblazoned above her fires, an honor in itself. Such a new feeling and still echos of the past lingered in the setting-Caeos lamented over her lost mentor, and the yaim'la that she had long crafted for her siblings amidst the wars. A dusty leather mat was rolled across the spacious forge floor, a kettle set near the flames-the workshop of each forger custom to them and their own tradition alike. A table and seats would be placed amidst rolling safes and tool boxes and and their banners above the work station would be a small and homely addition. This would be a place to receive guests in due time, to craft, and to teach.

Caeos smiled if only to herself.

Carduul Akahl

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[Carduul Akahl]

Long ago, Mandalore the Ultimate had a distinct, strange vision of society for Mandalorians. He envisioned not just a culture of purely warriors, but one where warriors safeguarded the artisans, craftsmen, and laborers of their people. T’was true - it was important for a Mandalorian to be versed in combat should the need ever arise. But their culture was more than just the fight. There was aspects of creation, of innovation amidst the pursuit of a glorious battle. Weapons or armor do not make a warrior, but they certainly help.

And with that thought, Carduul had stepped into the Great Forges of Mandalore for the very first time in his life. He, who had been secluded on Dxun, then embarking upon the glorious crusades with his awakening kin, had much knowledge upon the history of Mandalore, but no actual experience to call his own. In fact, he had not set foot on ancestral Manda’yaim since until the day his sect had made their triumphant return. Since their arrival on the planet and expansion to the surrounding territories, he did not get much of an opportunity to see it for himself.

The Rally Master’s condition, however, did not reflect the quiet sense of awe he held at the sights of various blue-hued flames beginning to be set up again for the first time in a while, the sounds of metal against metal being worked to shape the future, of craftsmen bustling about to and fro to prepare for their work. His armor, the visage of that ancient uniform of old, was fractured and broken in several places. The smaller T-visor itself was cracked. The battles he had taken his share in were told clearly by the marks, dents, and fault lines in the imperfect shell. His brass-colored poleaxe in hand, a datapad in the other, the taps of metal against the ground made itself apparent as he had moved inside with a roving gaze. After it took in the sight of the grand place, it eventually rested upon the sigil of the three hammers, then the Forgemaster of Clan Prahl.

“Su cuy’gar, vod.” He greeted with a dip of his head, as he stepped over with a barely noticeable limp - the armor around the right leg was completely shattered. Leaning ever so slightly upon the weapon he staunchly clutched to, in order to mask it. “Hath thou settled well with the accommodations?”

The Neo-Crusaders had re-ignited the forges with an even greater intensity than before - especially so compared to its previous stewards, the Protectors. Preparing for war, for their endless crusade against an uncountable foe. The raids brought many materials for them to work with - though the prized Beskar was in shorter supply.

“...Clan Prahl, if I am not mistaken?” Helm inquisitively tilted, glancing about the small area she had set up. Even the lesser-known Clans he held some knowledge of. “Thou’rt the first I’ve met from there. Seems I’m fortunate, given mine state.” Briefly gesturing to himself, with a touch of humor to his voice. Even if it the forge was not yet fully set up, he doubted he could continue to fight in this state. This was the closest thing to downtime he had, however brief it was.

Caeos Prahl

 

[Caeos Prahl]

Caeos Prahl
Location - Great Forges of Mandalore
[Invitations to the Forge by request over Comms]

​

A warrior as such was subject to looks, maybe even accustomed at this point and the youth that occupied the forge did such with awe and interest. Such oggling was only tolerated in passing, half hearted nudges were given by their elders as the ad'ika returned to their tasks. Caeos’ visor had turned at rhythmic tapping, she knew that it was no hammer at work and curiocity spiked.. The blackened tongs in her hands set aside with care as she turned to regard the Crusader as he spoke, for he could be nothing else but that.

“Su cuy’gar ijaatse vod,” Caeos mirrored his greeting as she pressed a gloved hand unto her vod’ad’s shoulder gesturing to the final preparations. Living Water was produced from her belt, the canister entrusted to the eldest in her care to oversee whilst she saw to their guest. He was a traditionalist at first glance she assumed, by the shape of his armor, his speech even. It was early yet, and to have men seeking armor at this hour meant many had neglected it-and there would be more. The flames would need to burn long and hot to manage it seemed.

As he spoke the woman listened, a noise of amusement escaped her and she nodded along- though her visor was keenly busy with each tilt and turn as she took in the most egregious of damages done to the warrior. What had shattered his leg’s armaments, it had to be a serious foe and the waiver in his gait was not missed-or how he clung to his polearm. This would be her first task then, what trivial ones she had concocted to keep the younger of their lot busy would wait for another day, when all the Crusaders had left to hunt their next quarry. One open palm raised from the woman, and the forgemaster gestured then to her left to the squat stools and a table waiting for them both.

“We are Clan Prahl, yes,” Caeos said, speaking finally after he had made his peace. The statement itself filled with a warmth, and a pride that seemed to cause each craftsman young and old in her company to straighten their back just so. Though she was no less surprised to be known and her voice betrayed that small fact. Her movements were slow and mindful, betraying her age as she crossed the forge to ease herself down to sit. Such was the place of business, theses kind of matters were equal ceremony and business. Though the woman was curious to know how he knew their Clan in truth. They had produced credits to support the crusade, many had, and Caeos only assumed they were known by that contribution alone. That or perhaps the circulating rumors of them and Velmor.

“-and I am Caeos. Alor of this forge.” she added, to steer her thoughts from rumination.

Her sister’s daughter was ever ambitious for that development. Alas, however their name had come to be known, she was glad to be of use. Seated, her hands planted on either knee as she glanced across to the man. A crack in his visor was reflected in own, how they mirrored one another-the elder wore hers still with pride. The sliver that cut across the left eye of her visor up to a peculiar dent in contrast to his. Amidst their exchange, the cannister floated from hand to hand until a youngling returned to Caeos' side to return it to her safe keeping.

“There are a few of us who you may fight beside in the coming days burc'ya. As for this forge-it is more than any would have expected, I have never had the honor of working in the Great Forge in my youth. Though that does not diminish my skill, tell me what it is you need and we shall see to it.”

Carduul Akahl

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[Carduul Akahl]

Gaze briefly flickered to the Living Water from beneath the visor. He didn’t recognize it, as he was no forgemaster that would understand its use. More than likely, he thought it was some kind of fuel needed for the forge. Asides, he’d never really seen a community of forgers working together. It was warming to see, to be honest, for it was exactly what he fought for.

He then saw the open palm, and gratefully stepped - with a subtle hobble - over to take the offered seat. A quiet exhalation left as he settled in properly, careful not to put too much stress on the recovering leg. Watching as she herself made slower movements to settle, amidst the hustle and bustle of the surrounding craftsmen also watching over the forge.

“Gedet'ye urcir, Caeos. I am Carduul Akahl. Rally Master in the recent war for our future.” Head dipped in time with his brief introduction. He did not proclaim himself Alor, or even ascribe himself to a Clan. Merely another person in the movement. Nonetheless, he certainly respected her own title - and moreso the experience that was expected with it. You did not see many old Mandalorians for a reason.

“I do not doubt it. All warriors are welcome to share in the glory and honor garnered from our undertaking.” Was a courteous acknowledgement in regards to her skill, and her Clan’s potential warriors. “I hath never been to Mandalore until recently. I only know its history, of which has left it scarred and weary.” The Rally Master admitted in turn. “Its forges and the infrastructure that is already here will be put to good use.” Gaze briefly tilted towards the doorway, before it returned to rest on the similarly cracked visor. “By the time its job is finished, Mandalore shan’t be threatened again for a very, very long time.” He decreed, firm in this belief.

“What I need are repairs, foremost.” His other hand had shifted, setting down the datapad. “No need for beskar. Others are in need of it more than I. This design is not made for the sacred iron.” Sliding it over to the opposite end of the table. The contents of which detailed the outdated design of the original Neo-Crusaders. More simplistic in nature, though less intensive on materials and more flexible compared to the bulkier designs of modern Mandalorians - necessitating more hardy fibers or leathers in some places to alleviate the lack of plating in others. Still, it was familiar enough, as the armor covered the same areas. “If thou’rt willing to accommodate its age, then I will be grateful, burc’ya. This design will soon become familiar, once more.”

Caeos Prahl

 

[Caeos Prahl]

Caeos Prahl
Location - Great Forges of Mandalore
[Invitations to the Forge by request over Comms]

​

The woman’s visor nodded ever so as they traded names, she did not know him or his Clan at the very least but such was refreshing.

“Scarred and weary..yes indeed. I remember the tales where there was a point in time when the surface was green. Such is a shared hope for our yaim, if the Crusaders can bring this security atleast,” Caeos paused in her words, something optimistic behind it as she raised her hand as if honoring the very notion, “-so be it.”

The very same hand raised fell on the data pad gently, to bring it to her sights to inspect the schematics. His armor was a generation old as far as design went, and silence beyond the work at the Forge filled the air. The woman studied each frame of the..she wasn’t sure if she could even call it beskar’gam in the traditional sense yet it’s simplistic needs were…

The elder made a noise, humming really, setting the data pad down between herself and Carduul. There would need to be a stop at the mercantile-but Caeos while all the eager to send the youngest boys on errand would need the blessing of the wearer.

“I can perform these repairs, I would be aggrieved to let you walk away without them,” the woman snorted, “-the age of the armor is not of concern. Perhaps enhancements as well if you require. Whistling birds, mandokar support features, though that is not my work but additions purchased with time tested reliability. And..If not beskar, there are other alloys that can be spared for a verd such as yourself,” The woman offered him a choice, her hands laced together-her servo wiring quietly as her helm turned toward her kin.

A projector disc was presented on the table by a youngling and activated, a cerulean image floating of a fierce feline creature-and when the data pad from her station was passed off. The forgemaster began to flicker through different beasts and the like.

“You are built for speed and agility and the leathers of an Akul or Nexu perhaps honor that, durable and light. Or other creatures are often attainable, many great hunters bring their kills to us to bind into armor.”

Carduul Akahl

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[Carduul Akahl]

Carduul had quietly listened to her speak, interest piqued when she made mention of tales of yore. Such things were his proverbial stock and trade, something he prided himself and engaged with often. “You speak of a time before the Republic had wrought its vengeance upon us. When Monroe and Mereel had sabotaged our own people. When the Sith came to deal it a final blow.” Murmured softly. “Perhaps one day, it shall be like that again. Far, far into the future.”

Though he grew silent for a period thereafter, gaze averting. Could the crusaders truly bring about this peace, though? Theirs was not a path of brighter futures - only war. Lips had thinned with the thought, “It will take much time to improve upon the Ultimate's work, but it is our hope. Our movement is…eclectic, in such ideas.” Was the statement thereafter. Some wished only for the entire galaxy to burn, while there were others who truly did see a golden future for the Mando’ade in the conquest. It was the Rally Master’s goal to spur the latter.

“...I must admit curiosity; were thee present, for any of those events?” Imparting a slow query. He had lacked first-hand accounts or experience, only ever studying the history of their world. Caeos was an elder - and though he meant no disrespect in the question, he could not resist the chance to garner such an account at long last.

As she silently looked upon the armor in thought, Carduul waited with practically baited breath. Perhaps in some corner of his mind, he was worried that no armorer would be willing to work on the antiquated design, save for the novices amidst his sect. Then she made her evaluations known with a soft hum.

The helm had then tilted in mild surprise. She recognized his strengths without him needing to expound upon them. Put her experience to show, if anything. “You’ve a keen eye. We have leathers to provide. Maalraa - from Dxun.” Gratefully said, his prior worries lifted from his mind. “Later, we will look into getting the forges access to more battlefield-ready materials that may serve better. Many spoils of war are still in transport from the front.” Red hide for red armor. A bit of dye, and it was ready for integration, he believed.

Then she made mention of, improvements. He had paused at the thought - the venerable design didn’t have much armament to speak of, compared to modern armors. He supposed it was prudent to remain prepared. “So long as they leave me unhindered, I do not mind any enhancements you may offer. Though, I oft’ prefer engaging blade-to-blade, more than resorting to gadgets to fight mine battles.” Was the admittance thereafter.

Caeos Prahl

 

[Caeos Prahl]

Caeos Prahl
Location - Great Forges of Mandalore
[Invitations to the Forge by request over Comms]

​

"I speak of a time before even them, before the Empire's forefather and the High Republic. The true days of yore. This planet had been reduced to desert, glass, rebuilt, only to return to the vicious cycle of waste,” Caeos’ voice is measured, she considered the stories akin to that of the mighty mythosaur. Real but distant from the people that lived now, and the troubles that plagued them and the galaxy. “You are a collector of histories aren’t you?”

Caeos’ hands folded in her lap as she considered the vod before, humming before she divulged in the past. It was a dangerous thing to ponder history too long, less one found themself lost in it-yet Carduul was a curious one. He measured his words, something rare for such hot headed people they had become.

“I was present for the Sith Empire's attack some fifty years ago, before the birth of the New Imperial faction and such. I was but a child then and did not involve myself much in the ongoing of the loose factions that rose and fell from our people. The Sons of Mandalore were amongst the most popular and were under the wing of the Imperials, I worked for them as a means to shelter my siblings. The Enclave was a second popular choice, traditionalist…yet they did not survive long either. I drifted in between Clans for sake of work and serving all of Mandalore. I did not invest much in the stock that took over Mandalore in the recent times, my Clan was my only concern by that point. If you wish for details, forgive me much time has passed. I can only recount so much."

The elder recounted what she could, it was at best a summary of all the petty wars that had taken place between others and she-maybe just considered herself a survivor of the times. Raising her hand, she passed it over the projection, the images of beasts flickering off as she turned back to the matter at hand. The promise of supply was always tantalizing but the woman hummed deeply as he named the beast he would emulate in his beskar’gam.

"Whatever spoils can be brought before us, scrap or trophies to melt down. We shall make use of them. Maalraa are rare, so much so I am amazed you can provide such.” Caeos assured, she would have to handle the hide personally to ensure no scrap was wasted.

The statement did not mean to question the warrior's prowess either, only that it was indeed a very fine hunt and a testament to his skill. Pausing only to glance to the youth of the forge, they would be of minor help this project they could learn on less costly material she decided. Caeos drummed her fingers atop the table then. The Forgemaster could see his armor coming together in her minds eye..as quickly as she had begun the thought her hand balled into a fist to gently knock once on the table.

"I shall not weigh you down then Carduul, whistling birds will be the only addition to your vambrace. A time honored weapon. I shall endeavor to add a splintering weave under these plates you wear-to reduce the heat from blaster fire for you will encounter it either way. Your helmet will be updated for better interface and tracking as well as a new visor. You may leave your armor in our care when you are ready.”

Carduul Akahl

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