Over the Hills and Far Away

[Crim]

"Our yaim? Our grand fortress of stones and sticks is coming along quite well," Inga said.

The two talked long into the day, recounting tales of their training. Of their exploits into space and their forays into known space, bringing the word "Mandalorian" into the lexicon of the most feared things in the galaxy once more. The blood they've spilled, the honor they've gathered, the foes they've fought and bested. And, of course, the celebrations. They discussed logistics, both civil and martial. Most importantly, they talked about them. Ral and Inga's relationship and what it could mean for their clans. Their friendship was already an example to the Mandalorians; Loyalists and Separatists coming together to bring about a new age for the Mandalorians, not to squabble like animals over the last scrap of meat. Their relationship set forth an alliance... a mighty one at that. But if they became more. If they became one... solus... they would be unstoppable.

The night was spent collecting food from traps they had set up. Cooking delicious meats, roasting them in various methods and adding what fresh herbs they could find. It was a natural, mighty feast. That night, they spent together, wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning...

Her finger tickled the trigger ever-so-slightly. A white wolf danced in the crosshair, stalking a white hare. Prey hunting prey. Inga watched as the wolf shadowed the hare silently, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Not before, not after. Too early and the hare would run off to live another day, to be taken down by another predator. Too late and another predator could make the hare its prey. Inga kept her finger on the trigger, the crosshair on the heart of the wolf, ready to dispatch it quickly and painlessly. The hare trotted along, looking for food to eat. Prey eating prey eating prey. The poetic circle of life was not lost to Inga. She merely intended to observe for now. To let the wolf have its final victory before leaving this world. Snow gathered on the wolf's hydrophobic fur, just as it gathered on the round, metal dome of her helmet.

The wolf jumped in a lightning flash, catching the hare in its mouth and dispatching it.

Almost as quickly, Inga pulled the trigger. A flash of red reflected on the white snow as a blaster bolt raced from her rifle into the heart of the wolf, dispatching it. The wolf hit the ground, the hare still in its mouth. She slung the rifle over her shoulder and approached her kill. As she approached the wolf, she heard a rifle shot in the distance. Ral must have taken a shot at another animal. Inga dismissed it and produced her knife from her belt and began skinning the wolf, drawing the blade from jugular notch to groin and again from clavicle to clavicle. As she made another incision along the belly of the wolf, she heard another shot. Maybe Ral missed?

Then another.

And another.

Inga pulled the blade from her kill, wiped it, and sheathed it. She ran for the camp, snow crunching under her feet, brambles smacking her armored person. As she came to the clearing, she saw the camp surrounded by the massive, white frames of the native Jotunmer. Adrenaline hit her in the stomach, leaving the chemical taste of surprise and fear in her mouth. She reached for the Tal'galar War Axe on her back and approached the Jotunmer. She counted nine, each carrying some primitive weapon of their own. The trip had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

((The semester is over, so yay. Ral, I am so sorry for the radio silence. Going to wrap this thread up with my next reply so we can still do the marriage thing if you want. I'll be a lot more active in the coming weeks. Again, my deepest apologies.))

 

[Ral]

To his chagrin, Ral had been thinking about the previous night's activities; setting up the campsite, collecting some food, roasting it out on a fire in the frigid cold, and what came after... holding Inga close as they drifted off to sleep, when the Jotunmer attacked. They hadn't gotten the drop on him per se, but definitely hadn't been expecting them, especially slow close. He hadn't thought such a large creature would have been able to sneak up on him so silently without his helmet's sensors going off. But they did. And now Ral was going to have to react quickly. Bringing his rifle up, the Mandalorian held it firmly against his shoulder and pulled the trigger. It slowed it a little but didn't bring it down. So he shot again, and then again, and again. Finally it went down, but that's when he counted and realized there were nine others.

Swearing to himself under his breath, Ral backed up slowly, aiming his rifle at the closest one. Thankfully, Inga arrived seconds later, and seeing the situation, drew the beskar axe on her back. Immediately, he began firing. There was no pause to check to see if the giant white bear had dropped to the ground dead, for there was no time to waste on such actions. Blue blaster bolts spewed forward from his rifle impacting the Jotunmer dead center in the chest. After the fifth blaster bolt, Ral realized it had fallen down into the snow, but now he had to dodge out of the way of a charging Jotunmer. The Mandalorian had barely gotten out of the way before the massive creature came barreling past him, missing him by mere centimeters. Hitting the snow packed ground, Ral pulled his rifle up to his chest and started firing again, all the while trying to scramble back to his feat so he would have some more mobility.

The following fight was one that could be told for ages past. No doubt they would have someone write songs and ballads about them for many years to come. The two Mandalorian aliit'alor, lovers, warriors, facing off against ten giant ice monsters. It would be a tough fight, one where every ounce of strength and every measure of skill would be taken to defeat the great Jotunmer. Inga would no doubt carve a bloody swath through them with her great axe, and Ral with his blaster rifle felling the bear-men with bolts of brilliant azure energy. By the end of it, Ral's chest armor was dented in the center from a blow by a Jotunmer's primitive weapon. The impact had sent him flying backwards into the trees. No doubt the sheer force of the blow and subsequent impact fractured a few ribs and bruised several others. It certainly felt like he had broken some. Another blow nearly took his head off, if not for his beskar helm which helped to deflect the strike and keep him alive, even with ringing ears.

Once it was done, Ral looked around at the battle site. Taking it all in he approached Inga, taking his helmet off and dropping it to the snowy ground, the man flashed his companion a thankful smile. "Well, didn't you get back just at the right moment?" He laughed a bit as he helped the redhead remove her own helmet. Looking into her green eyes, he pulled her close and gave her a kiss. "Thanks for having my back. I am happy to know you'll be there even against a pack of angry Jotunmer..." He paused as he took her hands into his. "I was thinking... do you wanna make it official? Tie the knot and unite our clans, so to speak?"

 

[Crim]

Jotunmer were terrifying.

They had incredible stamina and even more intimidating amounts of strength. Even a sure shot like Ral had to shoot them multiple times to put them down. Why they didn't register pain was a puzzle. Perhaps the cold prevented them from feeling much at all. Perhaps they had fewer nerve receptors. Perhaps they didn't have the mental capacity to register pain. The reason, quite frankly, was irrelevant. They were an immediate threat and needed to be put down. Inga stared at the massive bear-like creatures for a second, their fur blowing in the breeze. The adrenaline raced to her limbs. Her toes, which were becoming numb from the cold, were no longer a bother, nor were her rosy, cold ears, which stung from the frigid weather. And the pain she felt on a daily basis, the pain that persisted day and night, preventing her from resting, wasn't even a factor.

It happened so quickly. Ral shot a Jotunmer in center mass as Inga, drawing her mighty axe, struck a blow to a Jotunmer. She felt bone and flesh crunch under the axe. The Jotunmer howled as Inga pulled the axe from its clavicle. Blood stained its white pelt as the injured creature gathered itself. It lunged at her as she sidestepped and brought the axe down on the giant beast, delivering a killing blow. She looked up to see a charging Jotunmer knock Ral to the ground... a Jotunmer that was headed her way. In two hands, she prepared her axe, the heavy weapon being held like mere paper in her hands. It drew closer. As it reached swinging distance, she swung the axe, burying it in the face of the Jotunmer. The velocity of the axe and the bear together resulted in the axe doing a bit deeper into the bear's face than expected. She braced a boot on its chest as she pulled the axe from its head. A massive gash from cheek to cheek bisected the face in a grizzly mess.

The two Mandalorians fought as one, defending each other from massive opponents. These two were the future of the Mandalorians. The one who brought the Loyalists back into the galaxy and the man who had redeemed the Mandalorians. Years ago, the two would likely have fought and killed each other because of the toxic results of the civil war. With these two, the Mandalorians were whole again. The galaxy still had a chance. The battle itself was incredible. Ral had taken a few hits, but came out looking like Ral. Inga on the other hand was using an axe, a bladed weapon with incredible swinging power, to kill large creatures.

Inga was soaked in blood.

She was cleaning her axe with a piece of cloth Ral said, "Well, didn't you get back at just the right moment? and removed her helmet to kiss her on the brow. She looked up and said, "You'll find I'm full of surprises." And then, Ral popped the question. THE question. The ramifications would be mighty. Clan Kelborn and Clan Renelo had already been allied by a powerful blood bond. But a bond of marriage would unite their clans even more. For as long as they lived, clans Renelo and Kelborn would act as one clan, fight as one clan, and be one clan. They would be remembered in the annals of Mandalorian history as uniters of the clans when the Mandalorians were at their weakest.

"It's every girl's dream for someone to pop the question while she's covered in a monster's blood," she said jokingly. "Well, I am Mandalorian." She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Of course, cyar'ika. I will marry you. Let our clans be one," she said.