The Line Part Two: Challenge for Mand'alor

[Olivia Dem'adas]

OOC: Continued from this thread.

Olivia's eyes darted from Isley Verd to Vilaz Munin and back again. <So he was here after all...> Olivia thought to herself. "This one issues an ultimatum. One that goes against the Manda and is tainted by dar'jetii ideals." Olivia said loud enough for all to hear, Munin included. "He demands that all bend the knee or be exiled by the Exile as Dar'manda." Olivia said, turning to face the crowd that was now gathering and polarizing between herself and 'the warmaster'. "I, Olivia Dem'adas, Alor of Clan Dem'adas, choose to instead challenge [member="Vilaz Munin"] for the title of Mand'alor. The Exile and his like have lead our people to folly for too long. They would have us serve as puppets to dar'jetii witches and twisted fools like this one." Olivia added, repeating her challenge loud enough for all to hear and gesturing towards Isley Verd as she mentioned him.

Turning herself towards Munin, Olivia addressed him directly. "This one would fight on your behalf, Mand'alor. What of you? Would you face me yourself, or have this one fight your battles for you?" Olivia said, nodding towards [member="Darth Metus"] as she mentioned him. Her body angled so that both men were in her forward arc, Olivia's hands hovered near the weapons at her hips, ready for either man to attack her. Or both.

 

[RC 212]

Carrying this over.

She approached the fire, a woman in a grey cloak and black clothes. The Force thrummed around her as she rosined up her Violin which was summoned out of no where. Alas this was something to play a song about. A thing that must happen, but other did not want to happen.

She set her bow to the strings and a jaunty tune began.

"Long ago in the Manda'yaim,​

A Warrior named Vilaz had staked his claim​

​

But Olivia Dem'das wasn't havin' his game.​

She decreed her claim to fame.​

​

Alas by the fire an oath was sworn.​

To slay the dog Vilaz, that lower born​

Beneath the banner of a Mythosaur​

Two mighty Giants prepared for war...."​

​

-------------​

​

As she sang they would feel her words deep in their bodies. The force thrummed from the strings, amplifying her voice and the tune for all to hear. A blood lust would come over most as the currents of the dark side magic's ripped deep into the area.

The Violin, lit by the magical tune began to become wreathed in flame.

 

[Kenrath]

Cole was late to the party. He new it and while he had good reason it was neither the time nor the place for such things. Considering he arrived just in time to catch the challenge Olivia issued for Manda'lor. Cole would be lying if he said he was surprised by the Challenge. Ever since Ra never came back from Omega the Clans had been in a constant state of unrest.

Cole wore the Desperado Class Beskar armor he had acquired through Reclaimer Arms that he had gone through the great effort of having painted solid white with a single black emblem on the chest. The Ripper in it's holster, the scatter gun on the other hip, and his Echani sword on a sheath on his back. Cole slid off his helmet and tucked it under his arm looking around the group.

I group of banners stuck in the ground near that of [member="Vilaz Munin"], a Bonfire with what appeared to be a few banners burning inside. It was clear to Cole he had missed quite a bit before the challenge had been issued. Hopefully after the day's events were all said and done who could enlist the help of [member="Stardust Raxis"] or [member="Arla Balor"] to figure out exactly what was going on. Regardless of who held the title of Manda'lor at the end of the day it probably would be best if Cole got up to speed on the state of the Mandalorian people.

Cole carried no physical banner. He was the banner. In his ever action, in his every word, in his every deed Cole representing not only himself but his people.

[member="Olivia Dem'adas"] [member="Saeryn the Bard"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

"And you'll bend the knee. You and your clan," the warrior said to Olivia.

"You know the tradition, Dem'adas. No armor and no weapons save for your beskad, body, and mind. Or are you afraid to do so otherwise?"

While in combat a Mandalorian always had their armor and were armed to the teeth. However, when for the mantle the two combatants were to fight with only themselves and a blade to show that they were indeed strong without the need of technology. It was how Mand'alor Ra won the mantle and it was how he had won it as well.

Vilaz didn't made a move to strip himself from his ranged weapons, grenades, and armor until Olivia would do so.

[member="Olivia Dem'adas"]

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

[member="Cole Dagos"]

Shebdidbt understand as to why this challenge was happening, she'd rather have both sides work together for the better if the clans rather then trying to show who can be the top dog over all clans

Maybe that's why she cpuld never try and fight for it, she tried to find a solution around fighting most of the time, either way shebsais here. She spotted Cole as she moved over to him and gave a smile

glad to see you came Cole

 

[Kenrath]

Cole turned as Stardust walked up to him and said hello. He smirked with a soft chuckle.

"Well I heard about this little shindig.........was at the last one and figured why not show up for this one. Have you seen any of the others recently?"

He gave her a shrug.

"Not sure it will matter though. Our people have not been the same since Mandalore was turned into a veritable wasteland."

He paused.

"Sure we tried to save as many as we could but you have to wonder if it was enough."

He turned back to watch and listen to what [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] and [member="Vilaz Munin"] said or did next.

[member="Saeryn the Bard"]

 

[Atin Vendet]

OOC: (https://i.imgur.com/bBcC7XU.jpg)

Jekai Almec stood behind Olivia Dem'adas , The banner of Almec waving gently in the breeze. His communications had made his stance clear. Vilaz Munin was no force wielder, and therefor still had rights to claim himself as a Mandalorian. His soul was not yet tainted by the disease of the Dar'manda Force cultists. This would determine a great many things, and perhaps there was a chance to save him as well through devotion to the Oversoul.

The Mandalorian Preacher, loyalist, and Traditionalist (For canons of honor stood even before the codex, and served as their basis), prepared to watch- and to ensure that Olivia's body and armor were returned to her clan, should she die. He raised an eyebrow in confusion at the removal of armor. He bursts out in joyous laughter, almost unable to contain himself, to the point of bending at the waist and slapping his knee. That must have been a relatively new, albeit silly tradition. "I've never heard of the tradition of stripping out of your armor, thus breaking the resol'nare, to do a duel; but I suppose if we're fully committing to forgetting real tradition. Should call you Mand'alor the Citation needed.", he says. Armor was the extension of the Mandalorian, and a part of the culture. "Gonna slap fleshy besk'ad's, guy? But seriously. Lets not hide a fetish behind real tradition, yeah?" Many duels had been done throughout history, and to remove it was borderline violation of the resol'nare in a combat situation.

"Forget my support.", he says to [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] "There's no way I can support this thing as even remotely a considerable claim. Kill him for free, be Mand'alor, then lets get to saving Mandalore from these Dar'manda trash."

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

(OOC: Some of the Mando'Ade may not like it, but if you want to be Mando, your OOC wishes should bend to IC mando rules; otherwise that's kinda metagaming. [member="Kad Tor"], we should have a RPJ fairly determine a winner I think)

MANDALORE

Three ships arrived.
Clan Praxi, Clan Catar and Clan Tol Varen.
The Matador had united these clans under his banner, he had sought them out to return them to Mandolore. He had done that, however upon arrival. He found discord, he brought unity to a broken circle. The roaring fire of Mandalore's heart continued to burn with ravenous rage as all around them Mandolorians splintered. The 6'6 mass of a man arrived, clad in his newly constructed and updated Flayer armour; massive beskar plate covered his entire body. It was a newly refurbished suit of incredibly ancient Mandolorian armour returned to its former glory. The Matador carried three banners, as both Clan Praxi and Catar had elected him to speak for them. He carried them in both hands, his Great Axe strapped to his back; occasionally rattling against his beskar plated back. The lightsaber he had taken from the fallen Knight on Colla IV had been reconstructed in the vision of Tarre Vizla's ancient saber. Albiet, a far newer and more personal design for the Matador himself. However, he hoped at this reunion of Clans, that he would have no need for it.

He caught [member="Darth Metus"]' gaze, returning a court nod and so to [member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"] as well. He stopped, studying both @Vilaz Mulin and [member="Olivia Dem'adas"]. These were the contenders for rule? The Matador stood, with a mass following of Mandolorian warriors gathering just outside of the ships that hand landed.

"I have brought an audience."

The Matador spoke, his voice was pained. Due to his one man crusade to bring as many clans as safely home as possible, he hadn't slept recently and therefore his voice was rugged and strained.

"Today, this is what you fight for." The Mandolorian gestured to the many banners surrounding them. "I, A'lor of the Tol Varen; The Matador of my people have been unjustly away from Mandolore for far too long. But, even as a force wielder; I and the Tol Varen are loyal to our words." The Matador activated his saber; a bright blazing orange escaped from its hilt. He held it downward, scorching the ground in a large circle around Olivia, waiting for Munin.

"Two Mandalorians will enter. Only the true Mandalore shall walk away."

 

[Vilaz Munin]

"Shut your ignorant mouth before I cut out your tongue," Vilaz said to the Pup. Apparently one had forgotten how his predecessor became Mandalore, showing that he was strong without his armor as well as the Munin.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Kurayami had arrived some time before, staying off to the side, out of the discussion, yet doing nothing to hide either the lightsaber at his left hip or his presence in the Force. He was here to see who had come to rally behind the Mand'alor, Vilaz. Instead it turned into this fucking mess. Those who had been given a chance to say no and simply walk away made a grand display of ignorance. While the Corellian knew to hold his tongue in this situation, it did not mean that he was happy with having to do so. He took a seat by the bonfire on one of the split log benches, watching everything play out through the readouts on his newly crafted beskar'gam. The armored flightsuit incorporated actual beskar in its construction, a first for him. As he sat he reached into the small bag he had been carrying with him. It was full of booze for the celebration he had been hoping would follow, but now he was just disappointed.

Oh well, no sense in letting good booze go to waste. He pulled out a bottle of namana nectar, his favored drink since it went down with a slight burn but had a nice sweet note to it as well. Popping the cork he took a long pull. This 'Pup' figure seemed confused as to the 'no armor, no weapons outside of a besk'ad' rules. Why? It was simple enough to understand, even for one such as himself who was still learning the language. His acceptance was still rather new and he was adjusting as best he could. He let the namana nectar burn down his throat before he stopped a moment and addressed the Pup directly, a small smirk on his face as he did so.

"Gotta say, for a staunch traditionalist you don't seem to know all that much about the traditions governing challenges such as the one made here tonight. A refresher might help, ad'ika."

Having said what was obvious to all around, he went back to his drink.

 

[Keira Priest]

"I would advise you to hold your tongue if you don't know what you speak of." Keira stepped up behind [member="Vilaz Munin"], fully armored, helmet at her waist. She had been late in arriving to the proceedings, but had come nonetheless as a representative of her clan alongside her elder brother. Dark eyes were trained directly on [member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"], watching him evenly. "If one wishes to challenge for the title they will do so with their own might, sans armor and any weaponry but a beskad. Mandalorians though we might be, we are fond of our traditions." Her voice was quietly level, betraying no signs of anger or upset. However, the muscles of her jaw did grow taut at the man's final statement. Misunderstanding was one thing, but this was another.

Taking in a breath she released it slowly, glancing briefly to the standing Mand'alor before she continued. "I wouldn't throw that word around so easily. Dar'manda isn't something to be taken lightly, and you aren't in any position to be declaring one of the vode soulless, where you stand. Allow the challenge to proceed, then perhaps we can see about that." This reminded her all too much of the same dissension she had witnessed years previously, and it turned her stomach. The last thing their people needed in this moment was to be divided once more by claims of who were the 'true Mandalorians,' and she had no desire to spill the blood of her brothers and sisters.

[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"], [member="The Matador"], [member="Cole Dagos"], [member="Stardust Raxis"], [member="Saeryn the Bard"], [member="Olivia Dem'adas"]

 

[Ardasz Verd]

"Heavy are the words that fall from the tongues of babes," the Priest uttered quietly as he trudged through the dirt toward the cadre of combatants. "The Resol'nare are the lifeblood of our people; we teach our children to be Mandalorians by their writ and word- it is the only law we follow, and yet-"

He turned his gaze to [member="Vilaz Munin"], the Mand'alor who's claim was put to question. In a distant time past, this manner of challenge would have died when the majority threw their support behind one sole ruler. One or two dissidents would have kept their peace, or left their souls behind. Oh, how times had changed.

"The young Munin has raised a point that contends further back than the history of our renewed people, before plague ripped us apart and forced us to the fringes of society. Certainly the words have crossed your ears, Verd ori'shya beskar'gam?"

His jade eyes moved to [member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"] with no hint of disdain or anger; only mirth could be seen as he folded his hands and bowed his head. "Mand'alor is the ruler of our people, and the voice that speaks for us all. He must be more than armor. He must be quick, keen of mind, and strong, and he must be more than a tradesman with tools."

Beneath his breath, he uttered a silent prayer for guidance over both warriors. It was the will of Kad that the winner would sweep aside the loser and usher in a new age for the Mandalorians. Regardless of who won, he would pour blessings over them.

The stagnation would be burnt to ash and swept away by the tide of war.

"Long has it been our way to test our children before they are considered worthy to wear our armor," he reached for his mantle and peeled away the cloak of chains that hung there. His tanned, burned flesh was revealed, covered in blackest soot. "In honor of that ancient tradition, when the worthiness of our leader is called to question, and someone in turn declares their worth, we must once more test them both, mind, body, and spirit."

He cast off all armor and weapons save his tomahawk, forged of beskar. "These are the old ways," he explained, "these are the ways of the Destroyer God. Kad Ha'rangir has cast his eye on these two."

And now, they must prove themselves in His eyes.

To the woman, [member="Olivia Dem'adas"], he offered a slight nod. The burden fell upon her to stake her claim. "Fight hard," he told them both. "Fight well."

 

[Atin Vendet]

[member="Vilaz Munin"] He snorted, as that was never actually a thing. Like. Anywhere. Ever.

"Yeah? It come from the same made up tradition book as the assassins, force users, and naked mud wrestling match you've come up with?", he says to [member="Keira Ticon"] . "Congrats on killing a decently powerful force wielder. Shame he wasn't a Mandalorian, and therefor no title available as Mand'alor. Force Cultists hardly count. I'll be happy to meet you after.", he says simply. "Maybe teach you a few things" He looks to the 'priest'.

"Sure. Sure. Don't let me keep you. When we're testing ourselves by breaking the resol'nare, or coming up with excuses for ourselves. By Manda this Mandalorian Worshiping force user cult stuff is next level. Watching people play at being Mandalorians really is outstanding.", he says. "I'm a child all right, and it looks like it takes one to teach those that have fallen beneath that." , he remarks with bemusement.

He watches with crossed arms, his laugh eventually subsiding to watch the show.

 

[Ardasz Verd]

Darian watched the young man with a sad smile. What had their people become, so lost and bereft of the old ways? These new beliefs, this interpretation of the Resol'nare that coveted armor above skill, all of it was foreign and served only to jade him. He looked on through weary eyes at what their culture might become, if allowed.

"Alright, bur'cya," he gestured toward 'Pup' with one hand. "Keep your armor on. Show me how well you handle yourself."

Beviin pried the tomahawk from his waist and spun it once, feeling the familiar grip in his palm. He watched the man with some interest, waiting to see how he would approach- or if he would at all.

"Show me that you've got spirit, and not just a big mouth."

[member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"]

 

[Artemis Lux]

Word traveled swiftly among the vode. When news reached Dxun that the hounds of the galaxy nipped at Mand’alor’s heels, the Lioness had risen and immediately booked passage across the stars to join her kindred in rallying behind [member="Vilaz Munin"].

Artemis Lux arrived in due course, gilded beskar’gam reflecting through the chaotic assemblage, her helmet tucked against the flare of one hip, and her beskad glinting cruelly from the other. Without ceremony, she inclined her dark head in greeting toward Vilaz, then toward those she recognized as Aka’liit—Kurayami, Keira, and others—before sweeping the dangerous calm of her gaze over the dissenters.

“Choose your words carefully,” murmured Artemis, vivid green eyes as cool and tapered as a feline’s from where she stood, shoulder-to-shoulder with Keira at their Mand’alor’s back. “They have consequences. I advise you to answer this challenge with your blade rather than your tongue.”

[member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"] | [member="Darian Beviin"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] | [member="The Matador"] | [member="Cole Dagos"] | [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] | [member="Saeryn the Bard"]​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Kurayami returned the nod to Artemis, the smirk ever present on his face as Darian issued his own challenge to the pup. This could end up being rather entertaining in the end. Well other than the fact that so many challenges were going on. A look as though he were in deep thought twisted his expression into a deep scowl momentarily. As quickly as it had shown itself the scowl was gone, replaced once again by the wry smirk. He tossed the empty bottle of liquor into the fire, before drawing another out of his bag and opening it. He almost choked on the namana nectar as the one known as Pup made his feeble attempts at insults. It was nothing but entertaining at this point, though that was likely due inasmuch to the liquor as anything. Actually it was almost completely due to the liquor. He took another long swig when he could manage to stop laughing long enough to do so.

If nothing else this night would be very interesting, albeit not a very informative one for him. Just a lot of posturing from two, one who had challenged and the other who had been presented a challenge.

 

[Kenrath]

Cole sighed but did not say a word. There had not been this much stick measuring and arguing during the last challenge. Then again Cole was never one to make speeches. They were a waste of time. Cole had been late arriving and he already felt like too much time had been spent talking. That meant it had been one big poodoo fest from the beginning.

"This can't be good."

Spoken lowly to Stardust standing beside him. He just wanted this whole thing over with so he could go on his way until the next crusade.........whenever that would be. Cole and his men had no need for politics nor posturing. Granted it was good to see a few familiar faces.............but not good enough to deal with all of this.

Glancing around the group Cole wondered how many more duels there were going to be. It is as if everyone wanted to just punch everyone just to not feel left out. He liked to fight as much as the next guy but this was a little ridiculous.


[member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Artemis Lux"] [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"] [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] [member="Darian Beviin"]

 

[Garith Darkhold]

Garith was still standing around, after arriving sometime ago. It was shortly after [member="Vilaz Munin"] had fired three shots into the air. The challenge was made and accepted by words. Maybe the duel would have started by now if people talked less?


Garith did not stand his banner nor his body behind Vilaz or [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] . Garith waited, waited to see who was going to be the next Mand’alor. Or if the clans would fall further apart.

[member="Darian Beviin"] [member="Jekai 'Pup' Almec"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Kurayami Bloodborn"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Cole Dagos"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Saeryn the Bard"] [member="Artemis Lux"]

 

[Olivia Dem'adas]

Olivia couldn't help but to chuckle to herself as the spectators bickered. Not for any humor in what they said, but for the words of [member="Vilaz Munin"]. "What's wrong Munin? Are you afraid of me, or do you just want to see me topless?" Olivia jested. "I remember when Jack Raxis tried to make that argument with Ra Vizla." Olivia said flatly as she squared herself against the Exile, embracing faint memories of when she had loaned her Beskad to Ember Rekali in his honor duel against his fellow Alor. Her hands ready and her eyes sharp upon her pray,
Olivia allowed her lips to finish uttering aloud the thoughts that only enhanced her dislike for the man. "It sounded cowardly then, and it sounds cowardly now."

"No." Olivia said as she looked Munin up and down. Fighting hard against the instinctual urge to pace before him like a predator trapped behind a cage. "I would fight you as you are. With your true face on and every asset at your disposal." She said with a gesture towards the weapons Munin held, including the hidden ones in his wrists. "Just as you where when you failed to kill that pompous Imperial clown on Monastery and just as you were when you failed deal with Ijaat properly."

"Besides." Olivia said as she Drew her saber, a pale blue light springing to life within her hand as the metal blade withdrew from it's sheath. "I doubt your Beskad could stand up to mine." She added as she pointed the Ori'mishir Chaab'kad at the Exile.

Spoiler

(OOC: play nice guys. Please keep the OOC comments to a minimum and remember not to make things personal.)

 

[Atin Vendet]

While he didn't covet armor above skill, and that may have been a slight projection, he certainly valued the proper interpretation of the resol'nare. He certainly couldnt remember any such instance ever in history of both parties getting out of armor, but many where they specifically did not. He drew the vibro-sword from his back, not bothering to reply. It was two handed, and he allowed his right foot to glide behind his left, a foot and a half distant, and turned his body to match with his side turned to the enemy. His elbows were kept relatively close, his body evenly weighted, and the sword faced his apponent point first.

As his rival would step to either flank, he would shift his right or left forward or back, and twist to allow the blade to follow as an extension of his body, held close. He kept an eye on the center of mass, as that was often the area that easily projected the most what an enemy was doing. He droned the rest of the speech out, the rest of the words, and any side comments or threats. Only two things existed in this duel; himself and this 'priest.'

He too was a priest, one of the Manda, and one of the proper ways- so he prided himself. The Mandalorian un tensed his muscles, listened, and pushed himself into the proper battle mindset. Move, counter move. The hatchet was not the only weapon. He would keep himself poised and ready to strike with the weapon. He smiled.

'Kid'. 'Pup'. Few Mandalorians of challenge lived to the age of 40. He was 28 years old, and prepared to face this adversary.

[member="Darian Beviin"]