Atin Vendet
Journeyman Protector
[member="Cameron Centurion"] | [member="Greifen Ren"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Kriel Firin"] | [member="Arthan Corvax"] | [member="Ludolf Vaas"]
@Khalan Vhett | [member="Kyr'tsad"] | [member="Ailyn Kelborn"]
Location: A piece of Malachor V
Members in Attendance: Kyr'tsad Members and First Order (PM for inclusion)
Item: Creation of Replacement Darksaber
Hilt: Formed of Beskar Brought by @Atin Vendet
Appearance: Darksaber Recreation
Blade: Kyber Crystal provided by First Order
Construction: Knights of Ren
Payment: Help from Kyr'tsad regarding Mandalorian faction
Below for ambience
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGQn_mD30W0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ykubn632PxQ&nohtml5=False
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Atin Vendet stood at the ground where his ancestors had fought and died under Mand'alor the Ultimate. The area was hardly stable by any means, and a special area was needed to form the blade which would re define their culture. Here it would be made in sight of their honored dead. The man stood along the edge of a massive precipice, where the cracked and torn earth was barely contained within the artificial gravitational field they had spent days stabilizing to ensure they did not meet an untimely demise. The man clasped his hands behind his back, proud of the warrior faith that had brought him thus far.
A platoon of soldiers stood in front of him, mostly new verd, although a veteran or two among them, holding a position near the gauntlet dropships that had delivered them to this location. Soon, the first order would be arriving, and the experts on this sort of forgery would be needed. His filtered voice broadcasted over a placed loudspeaker system throughout the temporary facility. An ambient rumbling was deep inside the core of the rock, as if the world itself fought to tear itself apart, and release the thousands of years of agony it had suffered. Every once in a while, a silent plume of poisonous green gas would escape.
"Soldiers! Let us not forget what brought us to this point! For too long the unfaithful have ruined our government, and bent their will to the ways of foreigners. We await the return of the true Mand'alor, to guide our way against these traitors! Here lies a stark reminder to the trickery of outsiders, and that we must remain ever vigilant! I make this solemn vow to you; that we will not waver, never falter, and never cease until every last vermin of the un faithful has been extinguished! Once we yielded to outsiders, but no more. When we rise, and rise we shall, it will be to the tormented and pitiful screams of those that dared stand in our way!", he says, thumping his fist against his chest.
A chorus of replies, in unison: "Haat! Ijaa! Haa'it!", they yelled, raising fists into the air.
He pulls a bit of beskar from a pouch, in the form of a gauntlet. "This belonged to my ancestors, and as a reminder of my solemn vow to our warrior past, I pledge it in service of the Death Watch. May our forged blade bring swift justice to those that defy our creed!" The man sat it down on a pedestal, and awaited the arrival of the men he was promised.
Once more, the select few of the Akil'iit replied: "Haat! Ijaa! Haa'it!"
The black clad mandalorian placed his hands in the small of his back, and gazed to the stars. This weapon would be a reminder of what their people were capable of, and a reminder to the galaxy that they were a force to be rightfully feared. Kad Ha'rangir would guide their way, and victory would be secured at any cost. Those that arrived would be able to feel the whispers of the tortured dead, and the wound in the force. The forging of such a weapon in a place like this was ominous at best.
@Khalan Vhett | [member="Kyr'tsad"] | [member="Ailyn Kelborn"]
Location: A piece of Malachor V
Members in Attendance: Kyr'tsad Members and First Order (PM for inclusion)
Item: Creation of Replacement Darksaber
Hilt: Formed of Beskar Brought by @Atin Vendet
Appearance: Darksaber Recreation
Blade: Kyber Crystal provided by First Order
Construction: Knights of Ren
Payment: Help from Kyr'tsad regarding Mandalorian faction
Below for ambience
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGQn_mD30W0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ykubn632PxQ&nohtml5=False
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Atin Vendet stood at the ground where his ancestors had fought and died under Mand'alor the Ultimate. The area was hardly stable by any means, and a special area was needed to form the blade which would re define their culture. Here it would be made in sight of their honored dead. The man stood along the edge of a massive precipice, where the cracked and torn earth was barely contained within the artificial gravitational field they had spent days stabilizing to ensure they did not meet an untimely demise. The man clasped his hands behind his back, proud of the warrior faith that had brought him thus far.
A platoon of soldiers stood in front of him, mostly new verd, although a veteran or two among them, holding a position near the gauntlet dropships that had delivered them to this location. Soon, the first order would be arriving, and the experts on this sort of forgery would be needed. His filtered voice broadcasted over a placed loudspeaker system throughout the temporary facility. An ambient rumbling was deep inside the core of the rock, as if the world itself fought to tear itself apart, and release the thousands of years of agony it had suffered. Every once in a while, a silent plume of poisonous green gas would escape.
"Soldiers! Let us not forget what brought us to this point! For too long the unfaithful have ruined our government, and bent their will to the ways of foreigners. We await the return of the true Mand'alor, to guide our way against these traitors! Here lies a stark reminder to the trickery of outsiders, and that we must remain ever vigilant! I make this solemn vow to you; that we will not waver, never falter, and never cease until every last vermin of the un faithful has been extinguished! Once we yielded to outsiders, but no more. When we rise, and rise we shall, it will be to the tormented and pitiful screams of those that dared stand in our way!", he says, thumping his fist against his chest.
A chorus of replies, in unison: "Haat! Ijaa! Haa'it!", they yelled, raising fists into the air.
He pulls a bit of beskar from a pouch, in the form of a gauntlet. "This belonged to my ancestors, and as a reminder of my solemn vow to our warrior past, I pledge it in service of the Death Watch. May our forged blade bring swift justice to those that defy our creed!" The man sat it down on a pedestal, and awaited the arrival of the men he was promised.
Once more, the select few of the Akil'iit replied: "Haat! Ijaa! Haa'it!"
The black clad mandalorian placed his hands in the small of his back, and gazed to the stars. This weapon would be a reminder of what their people were capable of, and a reminder to the galaxy that they were a force to be rightfully feared. Kad Ha'rangir would guide their way, and victory would be secured at any cost. Those that arrived would be able to feel the whispers of the tortured dead, and the wound in the force. The forging of such a weapon in a place like this was ominous at best.
