The grasslands around Keldabe were alive with activity in the setting sun, funeral pyres had been lit, the bodies of the fallen laid to rest, at their centre, the Liberator’s pyre stood, flames licking up and over her body along with the others. Death Watch and Insurrectionists alike, the funeral chant carried on the wind. For some this was a time of quiet reflection, a chance to mourn what had been lost in one of the bloodiest battles in their history…
For others, it was a time of joy and celebration. Far from the pyres a huge marquee had been erected, beneath it tables laden with food. Great barrels of tihaar and ne’tra gal were piled high, free for all to help themselves. A dais had been erected at one end, a throne hastily carved for the Undying.
Hewn logs were scattered all around the open marquee, a dozen fire pits casting light as the darkness that was chasing the sun out of the sky. Groups erupted into song all over, chants rippling in the cool night air, accompanied by the soft tune whistle of bes’bevs, and the harsh shouts of a bolo-ball game that had erupted near by.
Malika passed wide eyes and a few sets of dilated pupils, a sure sign that there was more at work here than the free flowing alcohol. She smiled to herself as she wandered through the throngs. Mandalorians did nothing by halves.
For others, it was a time of joy and celebration. Far from the pyres a huge marquee had been erected, beneath it tables laden with food. Great barrels of tihaar and ne’tra gal were piled high, free for all to help themselves. A dais had been erected at one end, a throne hastily carved for the Undying.
Hewn logs were scattered all around the open marquee, a dozen fire pits casting light as the darkness that was chasing the sun out of the sky. Groups erupted into song all over, chants rippling in the cool night air, accompanied by the soft tune whistle of bes’bevs, and the harsh shouts of a bolo-ball game that had erupted near by.
Malika passed wide eyes and a few sets of dilated pupils, a sure sign that there was more at work here than the free flowing alcohol. She smiled to herself as she wandered through the throngs. Mandalorians did nothing by halves.
OOC: a chance for you all to blow off steam and relax after the war.Pay your respects to the dead, stuff your faces at the banquet ‘hall’, swap stories round fires, drink till your heart's content and consume as much spice as you can get your hands on.