Private The Song of the Anvil

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

HOUSE VERD ESTATE, MANDALORE

The volcanoes had once claimed everything.

Stone walls, family banners, heirlooms of a House that had called these grounds home for generations had all been reduced to ash when the fires of Mandalore had torn themselves from the earth. It would have been easy to let it remain that way, to let the ruin stand as a reminder of how fragile legacy could be. Yet under Aether's direction, what was once a humble estate had been reborn. Nay, it had been reforged.

The Estate of House Verd had become a fortress in every sense, its walls standing firm against the winds that carried ash across the plains. Within its West Wing, a private landing bay welcomed vessels both old and new, belonging to guests who had chosen to visit the home of their Mand'alor. It was here, behind these thick walls, that they could find a measure of comfort from the heat that clung to Mandalore's surface.

Only, what their host had planned was not something that would grant a reprieve from the heat.

Those who stepped from their ships would be guided deeper into the fortress, past banners that had been mended and symbols of House Verd that had survived the flames. Downward, a staircase of blackened stone led them into the heart of the estate, where a dry heat pressed against their skin like a second armor. The sound that greeted them was not that of celebration or feast, but rather the rhythmic hammering of metal against metal, a steady pulse that resonated within the bones of all who heard it.

Here, within the depths of the fortress, Aether and his clansmen practiced the sacred craft of forging beskar. Yet it was more than a craft. The air was alive with the presence of the Manda, and with each strike of the hammer, the ancestors seemed to lend their voices to the work. It was as though every note of metal upon metal invited the dead to sing from beyond, each echo adding to an ethereal chorus that filled the forge with life.

When the guests arrived, they would find Aether at the anvil, the glow of the forge reflected in his dark eyes. His helmet rested upon a nearby stand, revealing the lines upon his face and the strength of the gaze that greeted them. His hammer would fall once more before he lifted it from the beskar, letting the ringing of the strike linger in the air.

A smile found its way to his lips as he set the hammer aside, his voice rising above the song of the forge.

“Welcome, welcome! Today, I've something special in mind for you...a lesson in our ancestors' most sacred art.”​

Torva Vikar , Liorra , Kayla Ordo-Shan , Siv Kryze

 

[Torva Vikar]

Torva didn’t really understand just how she had gotten to where she was now: the warrior-people who had taken her in called it Mandalore, and it was a strange and foreign place to the young woman. Not all that long ago, she had been living a peaceful existence with her family on Ketaris.

Now she was a refugee without a home, without a family, without anything to claim except the clothes on her back. And even that had been given to her to replace the damaged clothes she’d been found in. Her burn wounds were still healing too, though for the most part all that remained were scars.

She wished there was something to help the wounds that existed in her heart. Something to take away the pain of loss.

Torva followed along quietly with three others who’d come to the hot, ash choked planet. The ship she’d been on landed at what appeared to be an estate, surely belonging to some powerful family, and she was guided from the landing pad with the others into the cool environment of the great structure…more akin to a fortress than a sprawling house. Banners bearing symbols that were foreign to her, decorated the structure as she was guided to a staircase of black stone that led downwards. The further Torva descended, the hotter the air became - and soon she caught a whiff of a rather familiar scent - hot metal - and not long after that, the tell tale sounds of a hammer falling upon metal.

It reminded her, painfully, of her father and brother’s workshop, where they had worked together to make various items to sell at bazaars and markets to add to the family’s income.

As a little girl, Torva had been entranced by the hot forge in her father’s workshop, enthralled by how he had skillfully bent and reshaped metal to make all sorts of items, even weapons like knives or daggers. She recalled how she had wanted to learn from him, learn how to make things from metal…but he had adamantly refused. It was a job for men, he had told her, not for young ladies.

So she had learned sewing and needlework from her mother - learned how to make clothes and tapestries and beautiful clothes to sell at market too. That had been her job for many years…until it all vanished in flame and smoke.

Torva heaved a deep breath as she tried to brush the memories aside, even as the stairs led to a great forge chamber that sat in the heart of the fortress that surrounded her. Bright blue eyes flickered to the others that were with her - though she was too wary to interact with any of them at the moment - before she turned that wary and guarded gaze upon the one that seemed to be working at an anvil.

Seeming to notice the arrival of his guests, the man paused to set the hammer aside, flashing a welcoming smile at the small group. Torva hung back somewhat, hugging her arms across her midriff, as she scanned her environment. They settled upon the helm that rested on a nearby stand, watching the flickering flames dance off its metallic surface for a moment before the man’s voice reached her ears, welcoming the small group before he told them all that he had something “special” for them all.

Torva returned her attention to him, though a frown settled across her face when he mentioned something about the “ancestors” and their “sacred art”. Whatever he was speaking about was unfamiliar to her, but she remained quiet - willingly to listen and try to understand the ways and customs of the people who had taken her in.

Aether Verd
Liorra // Kayla Ordo-Shan // Siv Kryze ​