Rusaar (Renelo)

[Arisalin]

The small company of brothers in arms that formed the Netra Gaan stood in a semicircle around the perimeter. They wore no heavy armor, just scraps of camouflage clothing with light armor plates fitted over. Paint dripped slowly down their faces in streaks, smearing their camouflage stripes, fearsome in the light under the dense foliage of the jungle. Sweat mixed with moisture from the air dripped from their still fingertips as they waited. All was silent, even the birds. The eerie glow of the surrounding area cast the most fearsome of them all into a terrifying look.

He stood with his back to the approaching group of men called to the secret meeting. Armor adorned with numerous trophies, all of which were set in the open. For all to see. For all to fear. He wore a helmet, unlike the others. It was made of wood, ceremonial yet warlike. Shaped in the typical Mandalorian fashion, but with the front of it elongated to form two jutting spikes, almost like tusks coming from his jaw.

Elias listened. He had awoken just the day before, and called this meeting. War was coming. He could feel it through his bones to the core of his soul. His muscles shook with ecstasy at the thought in his warlike mind frame he had forced himself into while adorning his armor. Eyes closed and arms held out to the side he waited.

Over forty warriors were on their way. Answering the call of the leader of the Netra Gaan.

He would speak to them.

He opened his eyes as the first group of men trickled into the half light. Some armored, not sure why they were there, and others wearing only a few plates of their beskar'gam.

They wanted answers. He saw it in there eyes just as they saw the fearless preparation in his.

 

[Grim]

His trek through the swamps had splattered Jame's beskar'gam in a thin film of mud and muck most of which was on his armored boots and kama. Despite carrying his almost full kit, everything but his scattergun, he was hardly winded from the long trek. He exited from the swamp silent as a ghost, the early lighting making him seem to appear as some sort of specter in the mist. Even though his buy'ce gave him all around view of his surroundings he still scanned over the members of the Netra Gaan and noticed that if he may have appeared as a ghost the warriors that stood sentinel over the area appeared almost demonic in nature. He thought to himself as he found a spot with a rock at sitting height and removed his buy'ce, “I would hate to see that sight as a foe instead of a brother.”

He deftly clipped his helmet to his a clip on his belt, and reached into a pouch pulling out a small lens cloth. Just as easily as he clipped his helmet he removed his SR10 Anti-material rifle from its mag-clamp on the back of his armor. With weapon and cloth in hand he sat down, opened the dust covers on the scope and started to make sure that the scope followed by the weapon were clean and in pristine condition. He wasn't the first, and James was sure that he wouldn't be the last so he paid attention to any new comers while occasionally glancing at the man in the tusked helmet to see if he was going to say anything.

 

[Dargeth The Hunter.]

He run lightly through the swamp and jungle the pattering of feet barley audible to most ear's as he found himself licking his lips, the flash of black and tan was the only sign that the Vord-cat was keeping pace alongside him and suddenly he came to a stop. Glancing through the tree’s he focused in on with the magnification and he was amused to see so many warrior’s gathered, he grunted and suddenly leapt forewords into a sprint. A minute later he hit a tree that had fallen and was currently leaning against another, leaping from the end he was a good story and a half in height, as he hit the ground he rolled once to take the impact before coming up onto one knee. Grunting his sides rose and fell showing the only sign that he was suffering any sort of exhaustion, he had been running non-stop for nearly the last hour having wanted to push his body as far as he could go.

 

[Bantha]

Facing away from the cliff, Ayonahim stepped off the edge and fell backwards. She unfurled her huge wings and twisted around in the air, flapping hard to gain altitude. Even clad in full white armor, flying was relatively easy, especially since her heavy medic’s backpack was not on her. She’d memorized the location on the map based on the coordinates so she’d have no trouble finding where she needed to go. The only thing on the Pha’s mind was exactly why. The small scrap of crumpled paper with the smudged ink was written in something she could barely read, whether by bad handwriting or her own education she wasn’t sure.

After some minutes of of flying in the low light, she landed in a crouch and pulled her wings in. Standing up, she scanned her surroundings through her helmet’s visor. Folding her arms across her chestplate, her gaze settled on the man in the wooden helmet.

 

[batumshakalaka]

Graves Renelo made his way into the small clearing. His green beskar’gam fit the terrain perfectly, melding with the dark colors of the swamp and trees. He didn’t have a dominating presence, he wasn’t overly tall or bulky. To the untrained eye he could have been a regular bartender or crew hand on any given planet or ship. That was of course if you took away the armor he wore.

The way Graves carried himself brokered respect from the most seasoned of warriors in the galaxy. Each step whispered words of confidence in the minds of the men he served with and planted seeds of doubt in his enemies. His movements were deliberate, experienced and unafraid. In the armor, and with his full complement of weaponry, Graves wasn’t an individual worth ignoring.

He entered the group of mandos, his rippers slung low on either hip his tracyn’burenaar repeater slung over his left shoulder and under that his co’oya blade. Around his right calf was his sol’kad vibroblade. In the center of the circle was a man in a ceremonial mask, tusks jutted out just from the underside of its jaw line.

Graves was a man of few words, only speaking when he felt it necessary or had something of worth to say. This was not one of those times.

 

[Noirceur]

The speeder skimmed the waters of the swamp, causing water to jet through the sides, splattering Saviin's beskar'gam. She did not know what was gonna happen. The letter simply read: "Come and learn".
Come and learn? What would that mean? What were they gonna learn? She was so caught in her thoughts that she didn't notice a large rock in the floor, a few meters ahead of her.

Stomp. The speeder stopped.

Fwoosh. She flew through the air.

Splash. Right into the water.

Crash. The speeder lands in the ground next to her.

Crap. She mutters.

The day was off to a bad start. She was in pain, but she got up. Cleaning her armor and straightening a broken thumb, she soon spotted the bonfire, crowded with Mandalorians. She turned her speeder, which was upside down, and not feeling like riding it after the fall, she strolled it all the way down to the small camp.

Just another day in paradise...

 

[Arisalin]

Elias watched silently as more and more Mandalorians filled the surrounding area. They were mostly massed together, with several smaller groups around the edges. Some had taken to talking with each other, while others remained silent waiting for him to speak. He looked down in his hands at the rolled up piece of clothe, burned, tattered, and blackened. It's crimson shine was still bright, and so was the roar of battle that it reminded him of. He turned, and slipped it into the combat pack by his feet, then once more looked down upon the others, raising a armored hand for quiet. Only a few noticed him, and turned to look. It had been quiet some time since many had arrived, and their attention was dwindling.

That would soon change.

"ANADE SUSHIR!" He bellowed, voice booming throughout the surrounding jungle trees. Elias lifted his pack from the ground, eyes burning into all the ones who stared up at him now. "We have a long run ahead of us vode. Grab your besbe, and follow me." He stated more quietly. His voice was sill heard however, for the silence had dropped with his first order. The line of Netra Gaan warriors quickly fell in as most of the Mandalorians stared on in confusion. Then, some picked up. Elias was taking them to a place farther from there. The ones who didn't pick up realized it soon enough as the leader of the Netra Gaan and his men started jogging off, full packs of gear on their backs, and voices raised already in a well known running cadence of the age.

Meg gotal'ura verda drashaar? Tal! (What makes warriors grow? Blood!)
Vi jorso'ran Kando! (We shall bear the weight!)
Darjetii at abesh? Tra'cyar mav! (Sith to the East? Fire at will!)
Jetiise at wasuur? Tra'cyar mav! (Jedi to the West? Fire at will!)
Nayc yaim'ol par mhi! Oya! (No homecoming for us! Let's move!)

Vi jorso'ran Kando! (We shall bear the weight!)
Ijaat, kote, vode darasuum! (Honor, glory, brothers forever!)

Meg gotal'ura verda drashaar? Tal! (What makes warriors grow? Blood!)
Vi jorso'ran Kando! (We shall bear the weight!)
Vi'haran bat taab! (We are hell on foot!)
Vi'jorso utreyar an ori'dush! Oya! (We shall clear all evil! Let's move!)
Nayc yaim'ol par mhi! (No homecoming for us!)

Vi jorso'ran Kando! (We shall bear the weight!)
Ijaat, kote, vode darasuum! (Honor, glory, brothers forever!)​

They ran for over an hour, miles and miles until the jungle cleared and they were navigating up slopes heading to the white capped mountain that loomed ahead. The air was clear, and though voices were raw and breath was taken in gasps by some, the mood was good. Elias felt the power of the small army behind him in every step. Armor clanked, men moaned, and sucked in air quickly. Several had already slowed and were lagging behind. They did not understand why he was taking them this way, but they would learn soon enough.

(Anade sushir - Everyone listen)
(Besbe - Gear)

 

[Grim]

James who was used to these sorts of run in full gear was one of the warriors present who that had not been completely winded, but he was starting to feel it. It wasn't helping that he was moving back toward the rear to help keep the stragglers moving forward, giving them some encouragement as well as helping them get moving again if they stopped. He wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep going to the back. Sooner or later he was going to just have to focus on keeping his own tempo. To no one in particular he remarked, "This is starting to be too much like actual work. I could have sworn this was supposed to be training."

 

[Bantha]

Ayona kept up with the pace set over the last hour, running in the middle of the pack. She stayed silent for a long time, listening to the unfamiliar chant. Only after memorizing it did she join in, quietly. As the time dragged on, she couldn't help but wonder why they were taken such a far distance, through the jungle and up to the chilly slopes. She too began to drag behind, feeling a familiar pain in her chest. With a grunt she forced herself to speed up and fight through the pain, regaining her position in the middle of the group.

'Goodness, I hope we stop soon,' she thought to herself.

 

[batumshakalaka]

Graves jogged along with everyone else. He was a smoker and a drinker but also believed his vices to be acceptable under one condition. His body be at peak condition. Even though he went for daily runs he usually hadn't just smoked a cigarette or been in full kit although he had been known to run in full kit from time to time.

All together he was beat. He wasn't wheezing yet but he could feel it coming. "One foot in front of the other." He repeated over and over in his head. Each time he lifted his foot he could feel a sharp stab run up his chest. His lungs crying out angry with him for his habits while at the same time his brain screamed back, begging for a quick smoke.

Graves didn't join in the chant, it wasn't because he couldn't muster the breath to say the words, although he wouldn't have been able to had he wanted. They weren't his words, they belonged to the Netra Gaan. He had no problem with the Netra Gaan, in fact, he didn't speak the words out of respect. He wouldn't do them justice, he hadn't endured the same hardships as them, he had his own set, his own hardships that shaped him and the members of his caste, the Adenn Tor.

He huffed along, one foot in front of the other dreaming of the end and of the cigarette that would soon follow.

 

[Noirceur]

A well experienced runner, Saviin normally wouldn't have had any problems keeping up with the group, but it was just then that the earlier fall really took its toll. Her whole body ached, and her legs where failing. Nevertheless, she forced herself to keep going, trying to ignore the pain. She had no idea where Elias was taking them, neither why he had called over fifty Mandos to... run. She hoped they would stop soon, for she wasn't sure how bad her injuries where. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Saviin continued to jog until she found herself near the front of the group, where she planned to remain for the rest of the journey...

 

[Arisalin]

Twelve miles, full pack, steady speed. It burned through Elias' limbs as he kept his eyes forward, drinking away at his energy, vast as it was. Gear clanked together behind him, letting the warrior know what his brothers and sisters were still there. He showed no weakness, refusing to stumble or lag one step the whole journey. Blood boiled, even under the extreme physical circumstances, hoping to see the purpose behind the trek. He raised a hand, signaling to the other members in the Netra Gaan. They were almost there, and it was time to get the group together.

"Aaray gotal'ur verde dral!" He roared, reaching the top of the ridge they had been traversing for the past hour. Stones cracked down the other side, in a sudden slope. The armored Netra Gaan pushed forward, some slowing to help the men who had lagged behind. The path led into a rocky valley. Moss grew across the large stones, crowning their strange white marble appearance with a vast array of colors. Elias marveled in his exhaustion at the beauty that the place still shone on him. The place never ceased to amaze, and the lesson that the others were to learn here would not be forgotten either. They reached the bottom, coming down on the thirteenth mile as they did so.

The distance was not a coincidence. Many militaries stopped at ten, fearing that men would drop from exhaustion and be confined in medical centers because of sickness. Three was the breaking point. Men and women could not forget about the pain easily at that distance. Your mind stays so clear after the eleventh mile that twelve and thirteen are hell. Blissful hell. He stopped by the center of the valley, slowing to a walk as he stared into the dark waters that made up the small pool in the very middle of the stony location. It seemed out of place, it's unusually dark waters rippling as all of the others stared at it.

Elias turned around, dropping his pack, and removing his helmet. He held it with reverance in his hands as he stared upon all the others, some resting on their knees, while others crouched. His pride roared as his eyes came to rest upon his own soldiers. The Netra Gaan stood, all around the valley. Those who had entered had already set up a perimeter. Complete order. Complete control. Perfection.

"Tsikador vode." Elias said, putting down his helmet and turning towards the water as if to wait for something, sweat sleek and soaking his body and hair.

(Aaray gotal'ur verde dral! - Pain makes warriors strong!)

(Tsikador vode - Get ready brothers/sisters.)

 

[Grim]

James was surprised as he was one of the first runners to make it to the next clearing he was rather glad that he was in better shape than most of the people who had made it. His old training proved to useful in that respect. Many of the men didn't look like they were used to running long distances in heavy kit. He did take the time to look towards the lake as he started to slow his breathing and rate rate. "Breath in, hold hold, release" he thought to himself as he started to let his body do its thing. His heart rate slowing, his chest loosening he surveyed the area and waited praying that they where not going to have to swim that.

 

[Dargeth The Hunter.]

As he looked up at Elias his form seemingly stilled he lightly lifted the helmet from his head his face covered by a light sheen of sweat and strands of hair stuck wetly to his forehead and cheek, even though the suit's enviroment componsator had been working flat out the constant running had even managed to outpace the control system's and he rose as the Vorn-cat slowly appeared beside him her flank also lathered lightly and he rose to his feet. He had gotten the simple call and had at once come running like any clan member would do, no question's, no hesitation, thy came wethere it was to wage war or simply to train under their beloved leader. As he heard Elias's talk and the mention of more running he grinned wildly and slid the helmet back on with a simple hiss of the enviromental control's kicking back into overdrive and he spotted Saviin and simply picking up his pace he began to run after Elias as though the past hour of running had simply faded away, his mind slid into an almost vacant lik state as he focused on the word's of Elias's battle cry and he found his own voice joining in on the singing.

As they came to the valley he found his breathing laboured even through the helmet and he tore it off his breath's coming in small gasp's and then he spotted the pool and he felt the back of his neck tingle as the hair's rose, the Vorn-cat panting beside him let out a small growl as she sensed something and he let himself drop to one knee to lightly wrap an arm around her neck to comfort her and he looked to Elias awaiting order's. He had not come with a full pack like most but rather his body was lightly armed prefering to train to depend on the bare essential's, his body still bore the scar's of that first lesson all those year's ago, as he pulled a small bottle from his belt it was full of water and he sipped it lightly knowing drinking it completley could be as bad as having none, lightly putting it to the Vorn-cat's mouth he tilted it letting it dribble into it's mouth and he heard a few warrior's snicker. The fact that he treated his pet more like a sentient or even a child amused them but more then once his beloved companion had proven her worth while in battle and a few f those gathered who had seen this shook head's dissaprovingly, they had seen first had how devastating the cat had been even those heavily armoured had fallen with the beast on their back's and powerful jaw's crushing their spinal cord.

 

[Bantha]

Ayonahim’s face shone with sweat under her helmet, and her muscles screamed at her to to stop. She forced herself to keep moving, run faster. She would. Not. Quit. Her ears could pick up the clatter of armor and the moans of verd behind her, just as tired as she. She kept telling herself it was only a few more kilometers to go, but deep down she wondered if it would take them much farther before the madman leading them decided to stop.

As she came to a stop, assembling around the lake with the other warriors, she finally took a moment to appreciate the scenery. It was beautiful, she noted, chest heaving underneath her chestplate. She turned her attention to the speaking warrior, wondering what tortures he had in store.