Ask Mandalore Whispers of Wisdom

[Romeo Solus]

.

Citadel, Local Time 11:47 AM, Mandalore​

The city now lay crumbled with infighting and as independence reigned their once unified strength. Romeo couldn't help but feel some guilt, as he was sure their civil war had not been the most helpful to the Mandalorian cause in total. However with the Sith now shunned from their own Empire and a new declaration of Imperial might bloomed over the galaxy, perhaps it was time for a resurgence. Empowered by his own faith, the once departed warrior returned to his homeworld, first stop being the church.

Romeo's reaper armor adorned a crimson cape, signifying the colors of House Solus and the once emblazed badge of the Justice Army now displayed visibly a sigil of his clan; the badger. Empty halls greeted his presence, tarnished stone walls and ruins from decades of ill kept maintenance loomed around him. It was not a utterly pleasant sight but it brought Romeo a deep and inner comfort. Romeo moved forward, placing an armored boot onto the second step; his torso leaned forward and braced an arm onto his knee as he glanced upwards at the Pantheon.

The Gods of Mandalore. Statues looked down at him, perhaps with judgment or disdain, irrelevant in his position. Taking a few silent moments before Romeo whispered to the emptiness. "I wonder if your decisions were weighted as heavily as mine?" He asked.

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

You barely even know your own culture, ge'hutuun.


The words had been said in anger. They had been said in the heated moment of what should have been a calm discussion on the future of Clan Wren. They should not have been said at all, yet they had been and they would not stop playing over and over in Neeka Wren's head.

The real sting came from the truthfulness within the words itself, she had come to realize. The insult was biting enough; her clan-brother had known of her illicit past as a smuggler and had leapt upon it like a predator catching prey. He had named her bandit. Criminal. Ge'hutuun was flung at those who had no honor. It was uncalled for, yet it hurt all the more because it rang with a truth: she had barely scratched the surface of what it means to be Mandalorian.

But there was something she could do about it.


Neeka had no idea what to expect in her descent to Mandalore, but she knew it was no Coruscant. Immediately she had been able to see signs of that which even time could not erase- the scars created by the Night of a Thousand Tears. These scars were hers to bear now too and it was past time that she gave them a good look.

It was a period of rare reverence for the usually-loudmouthed girl. Her boots crunched over the old detritus of buildings long since demolished by Imperial bombardment and she forced herself to visualize the sheer terror of that fateful night. Could she even get near what it must have felt like for her people to look up at the sun blotted out by Star Destroyers, smoke, and the cries of everyone they had known around them? The only one she'd ever really given a damn about in her life besides herself was her brother and he was...living his own truths now.

How could Neeka possibly understand what she needed to understand?

Frustrated, the young warrior kicked a piece of rubble with the toe of her boot and sent it careening over the landscape. As she followed it with her gaze, a building suddenly caught her attention when the kicked rock settled near it. Something about it stood out...but Neeka could not put her finger on exactly what it might be. With purpose in her step and determination in her heart, she turned fully towards it with the intent of finding out exactly what it once was.


The statues had snared her attention so completely that Neeka hadn't even noticed that she wasn't alone in this room until a voice echoed softly towards her, causing her to nearly gasp aloud.

"Ahh- sorry. Ni n'e. I had thought this place empty, verd." Neeka Wren hesitated after her awkward apology, unsure if she should leave or linger. She defaulted to the former, for the girl got caught up in peering at the details of this man's armor. It was clear that he had seen many battles. Scars of his own. It didn't take seeing skin to tell that much.

"...Um. Who...who are they?" Neeka asked the Mandalorian, gesturing at the deities.

@Faded