The small gathering of both of Kell's birth Clans did bring the same relieved feeling that he assumed he was supposed to feel. His Lucky-Gut-Instinct told him something was off and that he needed to bring weapons contrary to the invitation he received. It also appeared that Srucayr had been invited along with Akalenedat.
You have been invited to partake in the celebration of the final dispute between Ord Mantell's two rival clans. Clan Rook has asked for Peace and Clan Vizsla has accepted. Come now and join with us! It is finally time to lay down our arms and meet as brothers and sisters instead of blood-rivals.
The subject of the matter seemed to be fine! The letter he received via holomail was well written, but when Kell read over the words, 'Blood-Rivals', his gut began giving him pangs of anxiety similar to the ones he felt after being told the story of his grandfather, Vallen Rook, and how he called Kell a 'Blood-Traitor'. But Vallen was killed, so there was no way he could've made the letter.
The man Kell was excited to see and meet was Vulfang Rook, Kell's cousin to an uncle that died in the conflict his parents were caught in to defend his Father against Vallen's loyalists. Vulfang was quite the leader and the kind of man Kell aspired to be liked.
Upon greeting Vulfang, they were both clad in their traditional armor, but Kell was the only one who bore weapons. Nevertheless, Vulfang and Kell hugged each other, excited to see each other again. "I like the horns, Kell." Vulfang complimented, nodding towards the helm in Kell's hands that he fastened upon his head. One of the horns was broken, but the admiration from Vulfang was still greatly appreciated.
As Kell partook of the celebration, his Lucky-Gut-Instinct was still a little berserk, causing the Ranger to not partake in drinking as he wanted to make sure there was no threat about the small party. There were twelve Vizslas present and fifteen Rooks, but they all looked too happy to see each other to be traitors or threats to such a peaceful congregation. Still, Kell held his ground and kept watch for whatever his instincts were fussing about- and they were never wrong.
Then, the feeling of the 'The Big Bad' as Kell had called it, intensified when he passed by a tent with seemingly nobody in it. Kell hesitantly entered to find it wasn't empty at all. And old, scarred, and crippled man was sitting in a chair with twisted smirk plastered across his winkled face.
"So you finally made it." The elder hissed. "Who are you?"
The man chuckled, standing up from his chair to meet Kell. He stood just a few inches from the Ranger, and held himself as if he was expecting a fight.
"It's been a long time...I've waited years for this you know." The old man cooed, and Kell got the feeling that he wasn't talking about the party outside.
"Who are you?" Kell ordered this time, looking down upon the stranger with skeptical eyes. The older fellow huffed and turned on his heel to put his back towards the Kell who silently drew one of his WESTAR-35s. "Really, Kell? You don't remember who I am? What a hurtful travesty- you dare to mock me! Questioning who / am! You can't even recognize your own family these days, can you? I should have killed your father the second he was born if I knew he was going to mix with another Clan to sport a brainless son like you-"
A yellow blaster bolt rung through the air but it didn't come from Kell. Burning throbbing from Kell's lower back caused him to gasp as he dropped to his knees. He turned around to see who fired the shot but there was no sign of the perpetrator besides a singed hole where the bolt had come from. So much rabbled through the man's head- Vallen was alive! This party was a trap and Kell was the prime target. Then the Ranger began thinking of Srucayr and the potential danger he would be in as well but Vallen cut off that thought by literally cutting a deep wound into Kell's shoulder just below his durasteel shoulder pauldron.
Kell wasn't dead.
Not yet. And the stupid mercy of sparing the orange and white Mando's throat was a big mistake.
Akalenedat lifted his blaster and squeezed the trigger as Vallen attempted another assault, stopping the deranged murderer in his tracks. Kell had hit the man who killed both his parents straight in the forehead right between the eyes.
Kell stood up and groaned, now having to deal with a wounded shoulder and a busted back. When he turned to exit the tent to explain to his people of what happened, his gaze met the shocked and angered gaze of Vulfang, who looked as if Kell had murdered his dog. But apparently, it was Vulfang's grandfather.
"Traitor!!" Vulfang accused Kell as he tore down the tent to reveal to the what had happened to the entire party. Everyone's eyes were on Kell who was standing over the body of a dead elder of Clan Rook.
Now everything made sense. It was a set up to ruin any reputation he had made with his people, and with the delayed arrival of Srucayr, Kell thought that Vulfang was planning on convincing everyone that Kell had killed in cold blood like his dreaded grandfather.
But Kell wouldn't allow for such a thing to happen.
Before Vulfang could say anything, Kell took the stage first, "No! No, I am not a trader. The man I just killed was Vallen Rook." Several gasps came from both Vizsla and Rook members at the mention of the name. A woman from Clan Rook examined the dead body and nodded, confirming the statement. "He orchestrated this gathering-"
"Vallen orchestrated this gathering to bring us together, you fool! He knew what he did to sever this family and he was going to make his appearance for an apology we'll never here because you blasted his brains out. You wear colors of redemption when you blatantly hinder someone else of their own redemption. How dare you!" Those words stung into Kell like a plasma arrow shot precisely from a Nightsister. Vulfang was Kell's friend! An ally! To hear these words come from someone he trusted so dearly filled the big man with sorrow.
"You set this up, didn't you? Show me your blaster." Kell demanded his cousin to hand him the blaster rifle slung over his back. "What? So you can kill me unarmed?" Threatened Vulfang.
"I was shot in the back and you were the only one at the tent. If you haven't fire a shot from your rifle, then I will be condemned as a murderer, if not, then you will be charged with treason to your people. Show me your blaster!"
@Rhogar
You have been invited to partake in the celebration of the final dispute between Ord Mantell's two rival clans. Clan Rook has asked for Peace and Clan Vizsla has accepted. Come now and join with us! It is finally time to lay down our arms and meet as brothers and sisters instead of blood-rivals.
The subject of the matter seemed to be fine! The letter he received via holomail was well written, but when Kell read over the words, 'Blood-Rivals', his gut began giving him pangs of anxiety similar to the ones he felt after being told the story of his grandfather, Vallen Rook, and how he called Kell a 'Blood-Traitor'. But Vallen was killed, so there was no way he could've made the letter.
The man Kell was excited to see and meet was Vulfang Rook, Kell's cousin to an uncle that died in the conflict his parents were caught in to defend his Father against Vallen's loyalists. Vulfang was quite the leader and the kind of man Kell aspired to be liked.
Upon greeting Vulfang, they were both clad in their traditional armor, but Kell was the only one who bore weapons. Nevertheless, Vulfang and Kell hugged each other, excited to see each other again. "I like the horns, Kell." Vulfang complimented, nodding towards the helm in Kell's hands that he fastened upon his head. One of the horns was broken, but the admiration from Vulfang was still greatly appreciated.
As Kell partook of the celebration, his Lucky-Gut-Instinct was still a little berserk, causing the Ranger to not partake in drinking as he wanted to make sure there was no threat about the small party. There were twelve Vizslas present and fifteen Rooks, but they all looked too happy to see each other to be traitors or threats to such a peaceful congregation. Still, Kell held his ground and kept watch for whatever his instincts were fussing about- and they were never wrong.
Then, the feeling of the 'The Big Bad' as Kell had called it, intensified when he passed by a tent with seemingly nobody in it. Kell hesitantly entered to find it wasn't empty at all. And old, scarred, and crippled man was sitting in a chair with twisted smirk plastered across his winkled face.
"So you finally made it." The elder hissed. "Who are you?"
The man chuckled, standing up from his chair to meet Kell. He stood just a few inches from the Ranger, and held himself as if he was expecting a fight.
"It's been a long time...I've waited years for this you know." The old man cooed, and Kell got the feeling that he wasn't talking about the party outside.
"Who are you?" Kell ordered this time, looking down upon the stranger with skeptical eyes. The older fellow huffed and turned on his heel to put his back towards the Kell who silently drew one of his WESTAR-35s. "Really, Kell? You don't remember who I am? What a hurtful travesty- you dare to mock me! Questioning who / am! You can't even recognize your own family these days, can you? I should have killed your father the second he was born if I knew he was going to mix with another Clan to sport a brainless son like you-"
A yellow blaster bolt rung through the air but it didn't come from Kell. Burning throbbing from Kell's lower back caused him to gasp as he dropped to his knees. He turned around to see who fired the shot but there was no sign of the perpetrator besides a singed hole where the bolt had come from. So much rabbled through the man's head- Vallen was alive! This party was a trap and Kell was the prime target. Then the Ranger began thinking of Srucayr and the potential danger he would be in as well but Vallen cut off that thought by literally cutting a deep wound into Kell's shoulder just below his durasteel shoulder pauldron.
Kell wasn't dead.
Not yet. And the stupid mercy of sparing the orange and white Mando's throat was a big mistake.
Akalenedat lifted his blaster and squeezed the trigger as Vallen attempted another assault, stopping the deranged murderer in his tracks. Kell had hit the man who killed both his parents straight in the forehead right between the eyes.
Kell stood up and groaned, now having to deal with a wounded shoulder and a busted back. When he turned to exit the tent to explain to his people of what happened, his gaze met the shocked and angered gaze of Vulfang, who looked as if Kell had murdered his dog. But apparently, it was Vulfang's grandfather.
"Traitor!!" Vulfang accused Kell as he tore down the tent to reveal to the what had happened to the entire party. Everyone's eyes were on Kell who was standing over the body of a dead elder of Clan Rook.
Now everything made sense. It was a set up to ruin any reputation he had made with his people, and with the delayed arrival of Srucayr, Kell thought that Vulfang was planning on convincing everyone that Kell had killed in cold blood like his dreaded grandfather.
But Kell wouldn't allow for such a thing to happen.
Before Vulfang could say anything, Kell took the stage first, "No! No, I am not a trader. The man I just killed was Vallen Rook." Several gasps came from both Vizsla and Rook members at the mention of the name. A woman from Clan Rook examined the dead body and nodded, confirming the statement. "He orchestrated this gathering-"
"Vallen orchestrated this gathering to bring us together, you fool! He knew what he did to sever this family and he was going to make his appearance for an apology we'll never here because you blasted his brains out. You wear colors of redemption when you blatantly hinder someone else of their own redemption. How dare you!" Those words stung into Kell like a plasma arrow shot precisely from a Nightsister. Vulfang was Kell's friend! An ally! To hear these words come from someone he trusted so dearly filled the big man with sorrow.
"You set this up, didn't you? Show me your blaster." Kell demanded his cousin to hand him the blaster rifle slung over his back. "What? So you can kill me unarmed?" Threatened Vulfang.
"I was shot in the back and you were the only one at the tent. If you haven't fire a shot from your rifle, then I will be condemned as a murderer, if not, then you will be charged with treason to your people. Show me your blaster!"
@Rhogar