Open Mandalore Mand'alor

[Nox Solus]

THE CITADEL
(Open to Mandos only)​

With each step their people took forward, a glaring shadow would still be cast over them. Fenyang, their Mand'alor had vanished without a trace, speculation either chalking up his disappearance to him being killed and disposed of somewhere in the galaxy or that they had been abandoned once again. The clans had progressed well despite that but it would only be a matter of time before the cracks began to form. They required a Mand'alor, someone at the helm who combined all of the clans into one might that was absolutely terrifying to behold. If they didn't have one, the biggest enemy would be themselves eventually, as had always transpired in their people's bloody past. Nox would not let that happen again.

He had started as a simple bounty hunter but through a short amount of time had become the Solus'alor. There was never any aspiration inside him to become a leader, it had just taken place through necessity. His ascension to Alor of his clan had been because of the decision of others and a weight needing to be burdened. Once again, Nox found himself in a position where through the actions of others, an integral piece of them was taken and had to be restored. The Solus'alor could not stand by on the sidelines anymore and find his people returning to the state where they had been barely recognizable of their past selves.

Nox would be at the Citadel, the clan home of Solus, and specifically out in the open courtyard, a gathering of Mandalorians before him as he had put the call out for the assembly. Clouds reigned in the sky and darkened with each passing moment as if matching the growing number. Low rumbles would erupt from above but each one was ignored as more mandalorians landed in the square. Red Eyes stood beside him, his massive albino dire-badger, that when compared to his own frame, reached his knees on all fours. They were a staple to his clan and she in turn had become a staple of him, the two inseparable. A helmeted amber gaze would scan the crowd before him, a sense of pride bubbling inside him upon the sight. Whatever happened today, his people had still elevated themselves above simple dwellings that could barely fit them. Before him, Crusaders stood there, a true unified face that few could stand up against.

After a few moments, as the buzz died down, Nox would level his gaze on them all, his resolve hardening as he spoke to them all, "My name is Nox Solus, Solus'alor of my clan and first crusader of Lothal..." At first, he was about to list his achievements and why he deserved to be Mand'alor. But standing there, the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Instead, Nox would begin to step off the platform, each step made with a thud, mostly from his half metal leg as he would get on an equal level with them all, new steel to his words. "I hold no darksaber or mask to make my claim, but I am tired of our indirection like you all. Quite a few of you were here from the beginning just like me too and we all know not too long ago what that entailed. We groveled for contracts, supplies, and money just in order for us to have a semblance of surviving. We lost our way so much that it was the Sith who had to be the ones to re-straighten us. Now, we stand here, not as mercenaries or refugees, but as crusaders and conquerers by our sheer will." Even though he walked through the crowd, Nox's massive frame still allowed him to see over others and gaze across all those that surrounded him. "But, it is no secret, Fenyang has disappeared, leaving us leaderless once again and leaving it possible to regress back into what we were. The galaxy will not help us, all of them would rather watch us starve out, as they have in the past, and scurry back underground. Throughout our history, we have let them decide our fate, and dictate what we can and can not do. To them, we are nothing more than grazing cattle waiting to be slaughtered or die out."

Nox would stop in the center of the square, in the middle of the ocean of mandalorians. The clouds above grew thicker, the rumbling from before growing louder as if matching what was building inside him. Despite him conducting and participating in numerous invasions and campaigns, his body and bones ragged, he stood before them at his full height. "I will not go down that way! I CHOOSE TO FIGHT BACK! I choose to rise, not fall!" It was a glimpse into the resolve and will he had, which kept him standing there as his booming voice carried to all of the mandalorians, a fire within that swelled into a blaze. "That is why I ask you to join me now, as your Mand'alor and take our fate into our own hands, rise on the spirit and legacy of our ancestors. No more moots, no more groveling, no more hiding! We rebuild all that has been laid to waste! We retake what has been stolen from us and we do so with such ferocity that they will hesitate upon the simple mention of a Mandalorian from this point on!"

Lightning ripped from the sky above, illuminating all those below it as the thunder rolled through the mountains and hills. It was as if the very planet showed her support and wanted her revenge upon those that had wronged her and her people. Nox withdrew his beskad out, the metal gleaming as raindrops would begin to fall upon them, opening the door for others to rebuke him, "Does anyone object to my claim?!" The Solus would then thrust the weapon into the air, lightning once more striking out from the clouds as the blade reflected the light, "OR DO YOU STAND WITH ME?!"

 

[Arthos Vizsla]

Arthos attended.

Of course he did - Nox had called him for something important and he had an idea as to what it was for. It was becoming a habit that Arthos was in attendance for some of the turning points of Mandalorian history, it seemed, and he was happier this time than he had been the last time. This felt more... right. This felt like the kind of moment that people across all Clans could point to and say that it felt right from their helmet to their hearts.

Having brought a ceremonial beskad with him (still capable of killing of course, he was a Mandalorian after all), Arthos drew his blade before pressing it against his chest in a salute. The sound of metal ringing against metal would come from Arthos as he slammed the flat of his blade against the metal of his chest plate, joining in with a salute that seemed to be growing in volume and numbers.

"OYA!"

He was roaring his approval, louder than most people had likely ever heard him speak.

"Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" he declared loudly, proudly, "Mand'alor the Unwavering!"

They'd workshop the title if no one ended up using the first one that came to mind when he thought about Nox Solus, the man who had stayed the course when everything else had turned to shit and fire. Maybe there would be another title that would be worthy but to Arthos, Nox would always be the crusading leader who steadied the ship in the storm and did not falter.

@Orbit

 

[Gett'se Vizsla]

Gett'se had heeded Nox Solus' call to Mandalore. He stood among others of his clan as they awaited the Solus'alor's words, storm clouds gathering overhead. A sea of blue and black armor stood out among the gathered children of mandalore, the warriors of Clan Vizsla well represented among the gathering, marred only by the occasional warrior of the clan who bore more personal markings on their armor.

The crowd buzzed with caution and excitement as they awaited Solus'alor's words, but Gett'se remained silent, his eyes not to the brothers and sisters that stood by him, but the man who stood above them. Nox Solus. A man that Gett'se held a begrudging respect for, his only grudge the colors that marked the mans armor... A grudge born of the distant past from before Gett'se was born.

Perhaps a grudge that would be better to stay there.

Finally, Nox spoke. Gett'se hadn't been certain of the Solus'alor's intent on calling the clans, but there was only one real question that the Solus leader might call them to answer. The question of Mand'alor. Gett'se had fought alongside Fenyang and Nox both in that first crusade, he numbered among the first crusaders of Lothal himself. He had loathed that day even as his heart sung with the joy of camaraderie and his heart pounded with the heat of battle. Fenyang, the name rang with a sour note in his mind. Fenyang, Mand'alor the dog. The dog of the Sith, he had called their leader in his mind that day.

A slight echo rang through his helmet, followed by more as rain began to spatter against the beskar of Gett'se's buy'ce. Droplets streaked down the outside of his visor, soon to be matched by water running down his cheek as Nox made his claim. He bore no artifacts of great renown to make his claim. No backing of the wretched Sith to prop up his rule. Just a steadfast resolve for their people that Gett'se knew the Solus'alor carried in his heart just the same as his own.

Arthos' shout was not the first among the crowd, but perhaps it was the first among Clan Vizsla. It would not ring alone as Gett'se opened his mouth to speak, tasting salt as he shouted.

"OYA!" Gett'se's own beskad rang from its sheath on his back. No ceremonial blade for him, only the well used sword that had been given to him by his buir decades ago. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" He repeated the Rally Master's words, banging his scarred sword against a battered chest plate. Gett'se's chest swelled with pride as Clan Vizsla took up the call, their shouts loud and swords ringing clear against the sound of falling rain.

@Orbit @Nefieslab

 

[Van'Aria Solus]

Overlooking the happenings from one of the many Battlements of The Citadel, Nox had picked a fortunate stage for his speech, one that had many angles where she could overlook it without sticking out like a sore thumb even if that was the understatement of the millenium, she had built herself a steady reputation in her clan and even those outside of it knew that she stood for some claims others might see not eye to eye to.

Striding forth she stepped closer to the edge of the Battlements brushing past two of her Clansmen to look into the crowd beneath where Nox took the spotlight, the lower half of her Vibro-ax sung loudly as she struck it into the floor to reaffirm her stature, it was not overlong until Nox called out for unity, she had known his ambitions from the moment she met him, she had known which heights he would reach for and what he was destined for.

"Hear him, Hear him all! This man is no false pretender! Nor is he a Man of small words and inaction! He will carry us to the heights we have once known, of UNITY, PROSPERITY and INDIVIDUALITY."

She then pointed down at the Solus in question, Nox, or how he would be hailed as... Mand'alor.

"He will restore what was once rightfully ours! So come! Put aside false pretense and lofty accusations, I ask this not for my own selfish intentions for my clan... but the good of MANDALORE!"

She slammed the Ax twice down once more a rythmic thrum that was followed by those that followed her words either in stomp or similiar, once order returned to the Crowd she retook the word once more this time addressing the people alongside Nox.

"Those that would object this claim speak now. I aswell as the rest of clan Solus that stand with me support this claim. Our Crusade shall be known to be the Sword that cuts away the chains put upon us... wielded by MANDALORE THE UNWAVERING!"

A resounding resurgance came from those that sympathised with her, it was clear, many were in favor of this decision but one cannot rule out someone that may yet object to this claim.

"Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a!"

At last... finally there would be a start, yet they must not get complacent yet, there was much work to do, but one thing was for certain, and Nox above all should know this if there was one person that supported him in this claim it was her, it was almost a preternatural affirmation that radiated from her, she felt as though this was the will of the Planet, how far that reached was however beyond her.

@Orbit @Arcangel @Nefieslab

 

[Jado Veren]

Jado stood tall amongst the Veren clansmen that had gathered at the call of Nox Solus, Solus'alor and proven Mandalorian warrior. Though the purpose of the gathering was not publicized, Jado had his suspicions as many fellow Mandalorians probably did as well. With Fenyang missing, their people had lacked direction. There were aspirations for conquest, sure, but not unified; not directed. They needed a sharpshooter to aim the figurative longblaster that was the Mandalorian might - someone to unite the strength of all the clans, unquestionably.

The crowd hushed as Nox spoke, though the synchronizing heartbeats of the gathered warriors pounded louder and faster until Nox reached the climax of his speech. The crowd boomed in unison with the sky as rain coated the sea of armor. With the claim of the new Mand'alor, Jado reached an armored fist into the air with a shout in unison with the brothers and sisters around him, excitedly pulling the trigger on his Galaar-35 to loose a trio of blaster bolts harmlessly into the air.

"Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" Jado shouted firmly with those around him. This would be a turning point for their people. All of their aspirations would coalesce into a leader with the same fire burning within him. He could already smell the smoke in his nose, hear the booms in the distance of conquest and warfare. This was their destiny. "One Mandalore!" he added amongst the various yips and shouts.

@Orbit

 

[Kerr Saxon]

Well this is it, a moment that will be marked in galactic history and Kerr Saxon is standing here with the others and is able to be apart of it. Nox Solus has done great when the previous Mand'alor having disappeared for reasons unknown. Still By all rights, Nox should become Mand'alor. Kerr would look around, it's doubtful anyone here would oppose it or object, that would be dumb at this point.

Kerr's response to this is simple, he would raise his beskad hold it high and point it to the skies. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" he said. Kerr is glad for the Mandalorians to have purpose again instead of stagnation and rot. It the will of Kad Ha'rangir that Mandalorians carry out their crusade.

Glorious purpose

 

[Thane Veren]

Ever since the Mandalorians had begun their expansion again, things had been going well for them. Even if their last leader who Thane had supported ultimately vanished, the path he had set them on was one that had been latched onto with zeal and had carried them into success.

And yet, he recognized that they needed a new leader. Someone who had already been leading them. Veren was no stranger to following Solus into the jaws of death, and Thane knew it would make his ancestors proud for him to do it again.

And he already had. Thane had been there and defeated the Jedi at Lothal. The lightsaber he had won in battle still hung from his belt as he arrived to the meeting.

When the call went up, Thane slapped his beskad against the beskar of his gauntlet to join the ring of the others.

For Mand'alor!

 

[Shale Vizsla]

She knew this day would come because it was inevitable. The moment it became clear Fenyang grew distant and directionless, there was no one else positioned for the mantle like Nox. The man had been operating as a one man show in driving advancements for their people and rallying his clan and others to the cause. Shale had admired him since even before he was ever Alor of his clan. His rise through the ranks originated out of necessity, but over time she could see he was passionate about it and had a great love for his people and the cause. It was infectious and it brought together everyone around him regardless of their clans and sigils.

Shale was never one for being center of attention, and she kept towards the back. He would be able to see her because of her distinct jet black armor and the helmet with that single dent. She spotted Arthos and Gett’se, the sight of them bringing her joy. Others began to gather and rally. This was what it meant to be Mandalorian. This was the moment that should have been instead of that menacing Sith showing up telling their people how to get it done.

The Vizsla smiled beneath her helmet, cheering with the others, “OYA!!” She cried out, but she didn’t repeat the rest of what they said. She tilted her head the slightest bit as she gazed at Nox.

“Ner kar’ta par Mand’alor,” She said barely above a whisper. Shale kept her distance for now, letting the others surround and share in the glory. Her chest swelled with pride both for the Mandalorian people and for how far Nox had come. This would be a day marked in history.

@Orbit

 

[Song Wren]

It was no surprise her father, the current Wren’alor, couldn’t be bothered to attend the gathering. He’d grown lazy and complacent since her return to the fold, but given the fact this had to be, what, the twentieth moot in the last four years? She honestly couldn’t blame him. Only for her, this was important. An event she wouldn’t miss even if Krownest had melted into a godsdamn puddle. It was a moot that would not end in squabbling or tired shrugs or shaking heads, but with an honest end.

This time, a Mand’alor would truly rise.

Nox had fought and bled for his people. He deserved the title more than anyone else. Unlike Fenyang, who’d lost and spent only one limb in battle, the Solus’alor had spent two. Did that not prove his resolve and commitment enough?

Song bit back a smile at the thought. It proved his recklessness, maybe, but the Mandalorians needed someone like that. Reckless and stubborn and daring. Someone fearless, who was willing to fight for their cause without bowing to outsiders. Someone understanding, who did not murder defenseless mothers in front of their children. Most of all, someone dedicated, who built their clan from the ground up, as well as the clans around them.

Someone like Nox Solus.

“Clan Wren stands with the Mand’alor!” Song roared in Mando'a, adding to the cheers and cries of the men and women around her. She unsheathed her blade, the Sword of Wren, and raised it to the sky. Lightning rippled through the clouds and warm rain was falling in sheets, but she didn’t care. She lifted the beskad higher, rang it against her chest, and shouted until her throat ached, “For Mandalore! Ner jibr par Mand'alor!”

 

[Raya Kryze]

Just like countless others, Raya had answered the call of the Solus’Alor - and a part of her knew that this day was coming. With the current Mand’alor having all but dropped off the face of the Galaxy, and Nox single-handedly leading the expansion of Mandalorian territory, she knew it was only a matter of time before the Solus’Alor claimed the mantle of leadership for himself.

And, for all the bitter animosity and rivalry that had existed between their clans for centuries, Raya knew without a doubt where her support lied.

She had fought with Nox that first time on Lothal, and had battled alongside him again on Shaum Hii. She had seen with her own two eyes the passion in which he rallied the clans and united them under a single cause. He brought them together and set them on the path forward - towards a future more promising with each and every day. It filled her with pride in ways she couldn’t put into words, and she knew it was a sensation shared others amongst them.

Mand’alor or not, Nox was already leading them. Better than Fenyang ever did. Better than the puppet of the Sith Empire - someone willing to butcher innocent women and children as a publicity stunt - ever could.

And it was far past time they recognized it.

Raya stood proudly amongst dozens of her Vod - her glittering bronze armor easily recognizable amongst the swarm of midnight blues, purples and silvers worn by most members of clan Kryze. She wasn’t the first to begin to shout, but she promptly stepped up once the call went out. She drew the beskad from her waist - slamming the flat edge of the blade against her vambrace with a metallic clang. "OYA!!" She cried out in tune with the others. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!"

@Orbit

 

[Hokaan Veren]

This had been Hokaan's first time to the Citadel. This had been a day of many firsts in fact. Once again the clan of Solus rose to the occasion and the Mandalorian masses rallied behind them. Clan Veren was no different and turned out in numbers to support their long lived House.

The young Mandalorian adorned in mostly black armor, with fiery orange detailing, stood among many other colorfully painted figures. In the days he had come out of hiding he had waited for the next shoe to drop. Hokaan would be lying if he said he had approved of Fenyang. The deal with the Sith stunk to high heaven but so many other tribes had still united under the cause of a crusade. Hokaan could not argue with that. The Armorer was pleasantly surprised, if not a bit worried at the same time.

Rather than be an outsider, the slicer kept his wits and came out of hiding to engage with his brothers and sisters. He was relieved to not find the infamous dark siders lurking around the next corner. Instead all he had noticed was the apathy the rest of the galaxy possessed. Nox Solus saw how stagnant and indifferent the aruetiise could be and it sounded like they would finally make a change.

Now was the time to capitalize on the state of the galaxy. "OYA!" The young phoenix raised his fist in the air pumping with the cheers of the crowd. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" This is the way.

 

[Randor Wren]

Rand had grown uncomfortable with these types of meanings since his uncle killed his father and exiled him. He had come at Song's request, not really knowing what he was going to say. He supposed it made sense she'd invite him. He represented the old leadership of Clan Wren. The true leadership, in his mind—not that it mattered. He had no desire to vye for his father's former seat. But Song had the will and the guts to do it, and over these last few months, however begrudgingly, he had come to see his cousin as a woman — a warrior — worthy of leadership.

It didn't matter that he did not know this new Mandalore. He knew his House. His Clan. But even if he didn't know those two things, it was enough that Song sided with him. So, when the moment came, he made his voice clearly known. "Clan Wren stands behind its Alor!" he bellowed, knowing full-well Song was not yet the alor. It was the closest he had come to supporting her claim, though, and so it had symbolic meaning. For her and for him.

He raised his fist in support of the new Manda'lor. "Oya!" he continued. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!"

 

[Vidha Solus]

A smile stretched across Vidha's hace under her helmet. She knew Nox already as the Solus'Alor; he was the best person to become Mand'alor. So when the others cheered, bellowing their approval, Vidha joined in. She slammed a vambrace against her chest plate, the nose mixing in the beautiful cacophony of the other Mandalorians. "OYA!" she shouted, raising a clenched fist in the air. His plans for the Mandalorians were certainly lofty to those who underestimated them; Vidha knew Nox would carry out every single one. Finally, The Mandalorians were rallying together. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" she added.

This is the way.

 

[Dalair Solus]

Dalair spent most of his time these days in or around the Citadel itself. Working in the forge, repairing or maintaining the structure and its technology, and other similar support tasks. So of course he'd be there for a grand gathering of clans.

He wore his usual ceremonial armor, arms casually crossed over his chest. It was undeniably true that Fenyang had vanished from sight and the Mandalorian people had been without direction or purpose since. Only some clans had continued the crusade. And now, the most successful of their leaders made claim to the position, without any of the ancient artifacts that signified such a thing. When asked to stand with Nox, what was the Armorer's perspective?

Nox was solid and unwavering, a persistent power behind Mandalorian values and expansion. He fought and bled for his people, he lead them, he wore the armor with both pride and humility. Where he walked, beskar boots followed. Where he pointed, Mandalorians marched. In all aspects, Dalair considered Nox to represent what the Heart of Iron, displayed on most traditional armor, stood for.

His arms unfolded and he spoke his reply.

"Any blade wielded by the chosen Mand'alor is the Sword of Mand'alor!" his powerful baritone rumbled clearly out, visor looking briefly over the countless others in attendance who shouted their support. "Any helm, the Mask of Mandalore! If true is their heart and their way, then so are these words." A warrior was more than armor and weapons. A Mand'alor even moreso.

Dalair's visor turned to lock on Nox's helmet from where he stood. Mandalore the Unwavering fit, in a way, but being unwavering was not itself enough to be where Nox stood. It was to bend, to waver, even to crack, but never to break. To be reforged and reformed into something greater. It was to represent the Mandalorians as a people in the form of a single being. Dalair drew his hammers into gauntleted hands.

"Ner karyatr par Mand'alor!" Dalair shouted, his hammers striking one another to ring long and loud in metal bell-tones. For family Tvashtr, declaring one's hammer was more traditional. It promised their skill and craft for one outside family and clan, things that took precedence over their life alone. He rose his smith's hammer in the air, beskar metal glinting brightly in the hot Mandalorian sun.

"Oya! Mandalore the Ironheart!"​

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Once the final words left his lips, Nox would only have to wait a brief moment before he got his response. One shouted first and he turned in time to catch who it came from, Arthos. The Vizla had joined him in his campaigns months ago as he had always believed in the cause. Repeatedly, he was one of the first to support him and Nox's gaze would lock onto his before offering a silent nod. Shortly after that, others joined in and the single cheer became a raucous chant, their voices echoing across the walls of the Citadel.

The chants weren't only from the Solus, but others such as Vizla, Veren, Wren, Kryze, and Saxon. Song, Gett'se, Dalair, Aria, and others had all shown their support too and each one earned his silent thanks. They were an ocean of numerous colors and cold steel that could bring down a tidal wave of unrivaled destruction once they became united. That day became today. No more hesitation and no more steps back, only forward. The rain that fell down upon them soon became thunderous itself, a downpour that would soak all of them to the bone through their armor. Even though all the noise, the loudest sound was still the Mandalorians.

Nox glanced around himself as he lowered his blade, the emotions swelling within him upon the sight. The hope he had years ago of his people elevating themselves from their sullen state finally came to fruition. It was what had driven him all those years ago but he knew his path ahead had only just begun. While those around him made their chants, ones that honored him greatly as they proclaimed their lives to him, Nox twirled his beskad so the blade was inverted before bringing it to his own chest. He made his own phrase, one that could most likely be barely heard above the rest but it wasn't meant to be. The words were more of a solemn swear to himself as he murmured out, "Ner oyay par ner adate."

The newly made Mand'alor would again cast his gaze amongst the crowd, and through the cheers and suggested names, his gaze fixated on one person. Her armor was jet black and even though it was meant to keep her hidden, it made her stand out like a beacon to him. Her presence there meant everything to him and while they barely got time to see each other, her support meant the most to him compared to the rest.

With his gaze still locked on Shale's, the torrential downpour of rain almost drown out his next words if it wasn't for his booming voice, "The galaxy is within our reach." In one smooth motion, his blade would twirl and he would point it into the sky, diagonally from his torso and behind him, "TAKE IT WITH ME!" The words were for everyone but they had a special undertone that she would recognize. Nox's speech had been relatively short and his message after would be too as it would be stated without his help. As if on cue, two Adenn Star Destroyers dropped out of hyperspace and into the sky above them, the mechanical roar of the engines matching the ferocity of its appearance.

Bolts of lightning would strike above and around them, illuminating the weaponry that they consisted of. They weren't near fully ready but just the fact they were in the air was an achievement for their people. On the platform where Nox had first stood, two Basilisk war droids landed from the sky with a loud crash, their heaving metal mass shaking the ground slightly upon their weight. More dropped from above, landing on the top of the wall ramparts, their steel claws digging into the stone to secure themselves.

The Night of a Thousand Tears would no longer be remembered by them as the day they had nearly been wiped out, it would be the day they had banded together. Their ancestors wept above at their union once again as they became soaked to the bone, the lightning and thunder their rage as it tore through the darkened sky and illuminated them all. It was the day the galaxy instead would be the one to weep as they paid for their injustices against his people.

The gleaming beskad in his hand would be raised to be directly above his head, holding it horizontally before he shouted, "OYA!" In unison, the Basilisk that had dropped would raise their heads and howl, the sound escaping from their mechanical throats, a roar loud enough that the whole galaxy could hear it.

 

[Kraaz Wail]

The Clanless Kraaz reflected that this was only the second time he'd joined with his adopted people at a gathering of this size. The first was when Fenyang had called a similar meeting, a meeting aimed to unite the people of Mandalore in a single vision. At that time Kraaz had questioned whose vision however as Fenyang made his claim while standing beside the Sith. That day had an air of just as much trepidation as excitement. With many wanting no part in being Sith puppets again. That was not the atmosphere today however. Today the electricity in the crowd matched that of the growing storm overhead.

Kraaz stood in his full armor, the Deathwatch symbol proudly showing. While many questioned the absent Mandalore's motives Kraaz and the Deathwatch had followed their brother in arms. Kraaz had not had the pleasure of fighting beside this Nox but this man might as well be in the dictionary under Mandalorian. The man stood tall above the crowd and roared his claim. Kraaz smiled under his helmet, a bitter sweet thing as this man reminded him Ibi, Kraaz's late wife. Stolen from him while on mission for the Sith dogs who claimed they knew what was best for the Mando'a. Ibi had died fighting for beliefs and a man that didn't truly represent them. Nox clearly embodied what it meant to be a Mandalorian heart and soul.

As the ran became a down pour Kraaz would join his fellow vod in proclaiming support for the new Mandalore, joining his voice with the others. "Ner jibr par Mand'alor!" HIs own drawn from it's sheath and ring against his darkened armor chest. The Umbaran Mando didn't know what the future held and while many of his people looked down on the work he and his kind did, he knew that soon this Mandalore would call on the Deathwatch, and Kraaz would be ready to do the wet work that needed doing.