World Tree MUSH

    The distant sounds of footsteps and explosions from the city above reach down to the sewers in a muffled cacophony of chaos and death. The Imperials are no doubt scouring the city above, checking every building they can for the group. In a matter of minutes, the sewer tunnels will be crawling with stormtroopers, and the group is hard pressed to find any time for rest.
    Thanks to Sonia's healing power, The Mandalorian is back on his feet; though in need of help with walking, his wounds are no longer mortal but he's still in rough shape. It is a testament to the rare material and craftsmanship of his beskar armor, in that it barely even so much as shows any signs of scuffing or marks after all the fighting that had taken place above ground.
    Mando grunts with the exertion of walking, even while supported, likely on both sides, but he does not complain. He soldiers on through the pain. The Child looks particularly anxious; keeping an intent stare on the beskar-clad hunter, its focus completely and absolutely on Mando in his current state.
    "I don't know these tunnels." The Mandalorian mutters. "I normally entered from the town bazaar." He admits as the party traverses the mazelike corridors and paths.
    "Well. If we find and follow the scent of sulfur, we can follow it out to the lava fields and get back to the ship." Greef Karga notes optimisically.
    "We'd never make it back, it's too far from the city. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety." Mando points out grimly, before his helmet lifts by a fraction. "Wait."
    "Let me go. I can walk now." He says with another grunt, before pointing down a side path. "I recognize that tunnel. Follow me." Stated a she begins to lead the way through the darkened sewers, the light attached to his helmet brightly illuminating the sulfurous scented path.
    He does not lead the group to the lava fields. Instead, after another series of confusing twists and turns he reaches a doorway. And above this open passage is the sight of a mythosaur skull carved from stone, right above the peak of the door's arch.
    "Here." The Mandalorian says, stepping inside to ta dark and silent chamber. The room is as silent and foreboding as a crypt, and it may as well be one considering the pile of armor plating that lays in the center of the chamber. 
    Pauldrons, cuirasses, greaves, gauntlets, helmets, all manners of armor, forged in the same artistic style, and made from beskar, lay silently in the center of the chamber.
    The Mandalorian is quiet as he approaches the armor pile with a silent reverence, slowly kneeling to pick up a helmet in his hands, the visor cracked and the bloodstains inside it now little more than faded copper in color.
    "... Did you do this?" He whispers, head slowly turning toward Greef Karga. "Was this the work of you bounty hunters? Did you do this?!" He demands, making the older magistrate nearly jump out of his skin.
    "What? No! My men are bounty hunters not zealots! They all fled the system after the fighting died down, before the Imperials arrived!" Karga defends himself, still partially shocked by the agitation, as Mando stands, and wheels around to face him, his anger turning into an almost palpable aura that seeps through the beskar.

  Aside from supporting The Mandalorian when he needs help, Juno Eclipse has been silent. She hasn't spoken since the battle. Healing from the others has kept her on her feet, but not much more than that. The adrenaline's gone. She's lost one of her blaster pistols. Her entire right side is one profound ache from the shoulder down.

  Juno frowns at Greef Karga's optimism, as Mando shrugs off his supporters. She's quick to let go and back away, staring in silent awe at all the beskar. Mastercraft work. Bloodstains. Is this a tomb...?

  A safe haven, maybe, at least for now. Juno slumps against the wall and slides to the ground with a weary grunt of pain. She puffs a sigh once she's down. Her energy is spent. So is her blaster. If this is a tomb, she reflects, it's as fitting a place as any for a final stand.

  The Mandalorian's voice fills the room.

  Juno's shoulders tense, gaze flicking between accuser and accused, calculating.

  She's not above a non-lethal shot to either man if it keeps the Imperials off their backs. For now she only watches. The woman is preternaturally still, left-hand blaster half-cocked, primed but aimed at the ground. Only her blue eyes move, darting between Greef Karga and The Mandalorian.

  No rest for the weary or the wicked...

    Piera's in rough shape. Despite the healing from the others she's still favoring her left arm as she helps Mando move. When he says to release him she obliges and follows silently, each footfall almost silent as she moves.

    They enter a tomb, and the sheer malice in the Man in Beskar's voice has the Assassin on edge. Much like Juno she's statuesque, though a throwing knife has found its way into her good hand, the metal glinting faintly in what light is available. Brown eyes dart between the pair.

    She offers. "If we turn on ourselves, we will be playing into the Moff's hands." her voice tense and measured. You could slice the air with a vibroblade right now.

    At Tonbokiri's urging, his brothers Nikkari and Yagen returned to the Citadel shortly after the escape. The pair disappeared much in the same way that they appeared, in lightning flashing down from blue-ringed black portals above them, and their forms seemed to melt away into swirls of sakura petals. So that's two less people that the imperials can catch. Besides that, there's no reason that all three of them should be broken if this goes very badly.

    However, Tonbokiri asked to be allowed to remain. His injuries aren't too bad, and now that he's involved with the situation he's going to see this to its end if he's able to. Or, well. At least long enough to help everyone escape here.

    For the time being the legendary spear made human has merely been following along, the magical fox-computer perched on his shoulder -- utterly unmoving save for the occasional twitch of its tail, and the slow oscillation of its head to scan their surroundings.

    He follows... to a tomb? Poetic, yes. Though as the Mandalorian begins to seemingly turn on an ally, he agrees with Piera's assessment. "For now, it is in his best interests to escape with us -- that man has no qualms about butchering his own," he points out. "After that, you may have time to settle this between you." Because he honestly has no idea what's going on, just that this precise moment is a bad time for infighting.

    Hyouka is trying to support the Mandalorian as best she can; when you can lift and throw small vehicles, you're kind of the easy pick for helping an armored man walk more steadily. But it's turning out that she can't really do it for very long at a time. Her body is still producing uncomfortable levels of heat; not to directly dangerous levels, but being propped up by her and in close proximity to that much heat, while both injured and physically exerting himself, would be a quick recipe for Mando overheating. So she'll be switching out every so often.

    During one of those periods she walks separately, the faux-elven woman flexes a scale-backed hand briefly, frowning. "DARGN, explain. What is all this?" The AI speaks up simply, "There's not time for a full explanation. The creator of the DraCor Engine had a theory that your emotions might be able to influence its output. So he had several extra features built into your body, just in case." The woman grunts, tail lashing from side to side. The AI adds, "Hold on to that frustration, Hyouka. This state will get you back to your shinki sooner." Hyouka snorts, a soft puff of blue fire coming out with the breath, and continues on.

    The chamber of fallen Beskar armor is enough to bring her to a stop, though, staring with confusion and worry. She doesn't bother to get between Mando and Greef, though; it's a valid suspicion. "Then did Gideon's men find the place? Are there signs of a fight?"

>> GAME >> Hyouka Kiyama commits an Edge for: Holding on to Dragonheart Mode for now.

    Dante's doing a mix of babysitting and clearing corners, one of his pistols in hand. He's tense all over, not just over Mando's condition but the fact that they could have hostiles ahead waiting for them. He'll heal any injuries suffered, that's not what he's worried about.

    The sight of fallen Mandalorians fills Dante's heart with sorrow. It just reminds him of past losses, the Sparda estate, Nell's house, Grue's home...

    He wouldn't blame Mando for lashing out, but he does stow his pistol and Dante reaches out to grasp him by the shoulder. "Hey. We're all on the same side here." He says sharply, with a tinge of steel in his voice.

    His eyes glance around, looking for signs of blaster shots, counting the dead, whether they're Mandalorian or Stormtrooper...

A lack of time to actually situate and focus and maybe attend to wounds and just recuperate from what happened not so long ago is a decided factor in doing anything more than has already been done. Some fatigue is actually showing on Sonia's end, as it were--a little favoring of her shoulder but beyond that, she's been keeping attentive. Of the sounds, of the way the sewer's laid out--a natural instinct to know what she can of the routes they're taking.

In this, much of what Sonia can offer to anyone is taciturn silence, that is until they arrive at the chamber. "... then who would arrange it in this fashion? That is, to even leave it at all behind like this?" There lay something more implied: assume the worst of what happened, then there's another purpose to leaving this armor behind. A message? An insult? Or something else entirely? Her gaze shifts from Hyouka, to Greef and then the Mandalorian in question as she steps around to avoid bunching up altogether as she falls silent. 

    Holding a hand aloft with a little extra light above it, Li-Ming brings up the rear. Or she tries to, aiming to illuminate herself more than her battered party while she remains poised to possibly drop the entire tunnel on anyone who may be foolhardy enough to pursue.

    She's quiet, her attention almost entirely taken up by shining her light into nooks and crevaces; no shadow goes unthreatened! Lack of dilligence is death!

    Quiet until the grim display of so much recently vacated armor. She swears nastily in her native tongue; likely something similar to an ancient mandarin dialect. "That man continues to evince the necessity of his destruction."

    Her mind wanders to her own past losses and her less armored right hand grips the hilt of her faintly sparkling sword hard enough that the leather handle squeaks softly in protest. "Were... These gathered as a taunt or for some other purpose?" She can't begin to guess that Mando has any other allies among the living here. Her eyes flick through the battered group again and it's a true exercise of her willpower to keep her temper in check. She may not have the nastiest vibes in the place but she's probably able to make teeth itch.

    There doesn't seem to be any sign of battle; not in this chamber at least. But The Mandalorian isn't having any of it. This was his home. That pile of armor was his family.
    His hand twitches toward the blaster at his hip. He's ready to draw and his rage is only growing the more he's told to calm down.
    "If you had anything to do with this--" He snarls at Karga. Before a new voice cuts through the darkness and gloom of the chamber, clear and firm.
    "It was not his fault."
    It is a woman's voice, and in the next beat, she emerges from a side path. Clad in bronze-toned beskar, heavy duty leathers, and a golden tinted helm with the distinct Mandalorian T-shaped visor, she emerges. Her every step is utterly silent, but she carries herself with the same warrior's gait and pride that Mando himself does. Her very appearance stills Mando's hand and defuses the heated situation entirely as she... Approaches the pile of armor and begins to sift through it.
    "We revealed ourselves." She says. "We knew what could happen if we left the covert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted."
    With that situation handled, she pauses, glancing up to look at The Mandalorian's new allies.
    "Under normal circumstances none of you would be allowed in the covert. These are not normal circumstances." This new Mandalorian says before she corrects Sonia in specific:
    "Left behind? I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains."

    The new voice has Hyouka immediately tense, her tail even falling still for a moment; glowing eyes narrow faintly, but then the sight of a very familiar style of armor leads to the cyborg relaxing slightly. She has little to do for now but listen quietly, although one question does leap immediately to mind. "...then why did you reveal yourselves?"

    Piera's arm lifts, ready to throw the knife... then she turns as the voice speaks up.

    How did she... nevermind.

    The knife vanishes in a slieght of hand, and the Assassin adjusts her hood to conceal her face. Deference to the helmeted Mandalorian? Perhaps. "You honour us... but I will echo my allies question, Why did you reveal yourselves if you knew they would attack you?" she asks, adjusting her stance and wincing a little as she moves her cloak to cover her wounded arm.

    Dante whirls about, drawing a bead on the source of the voice, only to blink. "Huh." He stows his pistol when he realizes the Armorer is also a Mandalorian. "We're sorry we couldn't make it." He says, the baby still in his arms.

    Much as Dante wouldn't admit it, he's doing his best to make sure the little guy's safe in his arm.

  Juno stays right where she is, keeping an eye on the situation, and her blaster at the ready. If the decibels start getting any higher, she's going to have to take some kind of action... but before she can chide either Greef Karga or The Mandalorian, another voice answers.

  Her head, and her left blaster, snap around to behold a familiar figure. No, not familiar. Similar armour to that which Din Djarin wears. A woman's voice?

  As that slotted helmet turns her way, Juno slowly hikes herself up a little more upright against the wall, as much for a better look as to steady her blaster-hand. She doesn't aim at the newcomer, though a flick of her wrist could suffice. Instead, she watches.

  Salvage? This is obviously one devoted to the Mandalorian creed; the way the woman moves is a warrior's effortless grace, approach silent as snowfall.

  Juno arches an eyebrow at the armoured woman, though; as much intrigued as generally curious.

  She glances toward Mando, and though she still says nothing, her expression is clear: Friend of yours?

    The sounding of the second voice draws Tonbokiri to turn in that direction with no small amount of tension. Which is probably understandable given what just happened to them. Though he relaxes as the Mandalorian (the one with their group) seems to know who this person is.

    When regarded by the armored woman, Tonbokiri takes a knee briefly, bowing his head. "Please forgive us for intruding upon your sanctuary -- we had nowhere else to go," he offers respectfully. He's not stupid enough to think she's not aware of what just happened up there.

    Though she may not agree with Mando and Greef starting to quibble a little louder, Li-Ming doesn't see any reason to intervene. They seem to be kind of sorting things out between them. One way or another. A new voice with that odd, slightly distorted quality pipes up and she looks. Another warrior with that armor. A survivor and seemingly more stalwart than the rest of the unfortunates whose assorted armors lay about.

    Seems she belongs here more than any of the rest of us do, so she doesn't get her hackles up about the strange woman. She turns her back, even, as if contemplating the corridor and it's potential as a place to lay an ambush.

    "Your generous exception is noted." Over her shoulder, "We have wounded and one of ours led us here." She indicates Mando. If he gets to explaining /why/ exactly we're here it may be helpful! "Nevertheless, we are being pursued most likely." The least we can do is warn this nice lady with the convenient shelter that she's going to have to set her timetable accordingly!

The only reason the woman does not draw the same response from Sonia as it seems to draw the tension out of others is due to her not being as tense about the matter--least on the outside. She does, however, seem to mirror the impulse that Piera had, drawing her hood about with a slight bob of her head. "I understand." The framing was slightly incorrect, but her suspicions that the piling of armor here was not in some measure of deliberate disrespect. Nor does she have anything else to add--just yet, of course. None that the others have already begun to ask. 

    Why did the Mandalorians reveal themselves? This is a question posed by both Hyouka and Piera, and for a beat she turns to look at them both. And as she stares them both down she speaks again.
    "Din Djarin. Have you ever removed your helmet in the presence of another?"
    "No."
    "Has it ever been removed for you by another?"
    "No."
    "This is the Way." She says solemnly, as though pleased by Mando's answer, before her focus returns to Hyouka and Piera.
    "Din Djarin swore himself to the Creed when he came of age. When he first left Nevarro he was being hunted. By Creed it is a Mandalorian's duty to aid another Mandalorian in their time of need." She explains before tilting her head to a curious angle.
    "To which I ask you: Why did you throw yourself out a cantina window into a promenade full of stormtroopers?"
    With this question posed, she seems satisfied and selects a cuirass from the armor pile.
    This woman is more than friend to Mando, his silence, and the fact that he speaks only when spoken to by her says volumes about the reverence in which he holds this woman. And judging from the question she just asked Hyouka, she is more than aware of what is going on up in the city above.
    "Come." She beckons into the next chamber, where a wave of heat passes over the group, emanating from the furnace and forge in the center of the room.
    "Show me the one who's safety deemed such destruction." She asks while carefully placing the armor plate into the furnace with a set of tongs, the beskar beginning to rapidly melt.

    "Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent. Hide in plain sight. Never compromise the Brotherhood. Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." recites Piera as she follows into the forge room. "We work in the Dark to serve the light. We are Assassins." Her voice is low, mostly speaking to herself, though those around her are probably able to hear it easily. Piera glances over to Hyouka, then back to The Armorer. "The man named Gideon is after this child." she says, indicating the small green creature in Dante's arms. "I know not why, but I am certain that someone of his caliber would not devote so much resource to a fools errend, and thus we cannot allow him to succeed." she frowns, "I know men much like him. They will stop at nothing to achieve their goals, my allies here have seen but a fraction of their malice."

    Dante holds up the child helpfully. "This is the little guy. We don't know why they want him, but they've gone to...well, you've seen the means they've gone to for him." He says with a grim look, watching with fascination as some sort of ceremony commences.

Quietly does Sonia continue to, simply put it, observe. Listen. Soak in the little details, and the larger ones. The Child, for instance, is given a little more due observation than she'd been able to give in the chaos of the conflict above ground. Which, even she can tell, not-human aspects aside, that there's something quite special about them. Never you mind, you know, the rather fierce pursuit that there clearly seems to be.

    The whole 'warrior's code' thing is foreign to Hyouka. She's just an ordinary woman turned adventurer, she's never been especially 'honor and courage'. But the question the Armorer puts to her... that does a lot more to help her understand. Why did Hyouka throw herself out a cantina window into a promenade full of stormtroopers?

    Because she had someone to protect. And because she was really angry about a threat to those someones.

    "...I see," the cyborg mumbles. She's socially ept enough to see the change in the Mandalorian's behavior, and the almost maternal note in the armored woman's demeanor. She glances at the beskar-clad man, but says nothing...

    ...however, DARGN decides to speak up. "Forgemaster, do you swing your hammer for Din Djarin's sake?" It's in an odd tone, one she doesn't ordinarily use. Imperious. Prideful. A far cry from the casual, familiar snark usually thrown around with Hyouka. "Where Hyouka and I come from, it is customary for a warrior who impresses a dragon to receive a boon. If nothing else, a dragon's blessing on a weapon or armor forged can bring good fortune in battle. And right now, Hyouka," the AI adds, "You very much count as a dragon. Do you think him worthy of a little blessing~?"

  Juno is quiet in the wake of the exchange between the mysterious Mandalorian and Din Djarin. She's been uncommonly quiet in general; but whether that's a product of her own fatigue, or whether from Gideon's nasty little shock, it's hard to say. Whatever the cause is she doesn't seem interested in saying very much.

  All that to say: She listens to the exchange with obvious interest, and the way she looks at the mysterious Mandalorian is a mixture of a scarred campaigner impressed and curiosity. Maybe she's picking up a bit on Din Djarin's obvious reverence, too.

  Oh, damn. She has to get up? The old general sighs, pushing herself up to her feet slowly, using the wall to steady herself. Only once she's up does she trust to limp after the strange Mandalorian.

  She's listening, but Juno watches the beskar as the rippling heat of the furnace swallows it, as though fascinated.

  The working of beskar by its own native culture is not something many in the galaxy get an opportunity to see. She doesn't intend to waste it.

    Careful to pick a path through the tragedy projected in the medium of discarded armor, Li-Ming follows along. She's certainly curious about the woman, her relationship to the strange green child's armored benefactor. She inclines her head toward Piera, then glances to Dante and his charge. "Indeed. He's quite resourceful. No doubt he at least suspects the location of this place." There. Her warning to make haste delivered, she sidles to the side to get a look at this forging as it takes place.

    Hyouka gets a curious look upon mentioning something of a blessing. "Likewise, if I didn't feel we were pressed for time, I could offer some manner of boon." Perhaps some other time, when she's not doing her best to split her attention between the forgemaster and the way out.

    "Just as you follow your own creed, so to do we Mandalorians." The Armorer says, overhearing Piera.
    Dante holds up The Child, and The Armorer stares for a curious beat. "Gideon is after this?" She muses. "Then. This is the one that you hunted, then saved?" She asks of The Mandalorian.
    "Yes. The one that saved me as well."
    "From the mudhorn?"
    "Yes."
    Once again she looks to the infant in Dante's arms.
    "It looks helpless." She says, yet does not sound dismissive.
    "IG unit, guard the outer hallway." She orders, and IG-11 steps out into the hall, blasters in its hands to assuage Li-Ming, as The Armorer scoops a portion of molten beskar from the forge.
    "I do." She replies to DARGN. "If you feel he is worthy, then cast your breath upon the beskar."
    "It's not helpless." Din notes. "It can move objects with its mind.
    "I know of such things." The Armorer muses. "The songs of aeons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great, and an order of sorcerors called Jedi that fought with such powers."

    "My breath?" Hyouka blinks, faintly confused. DARGN replies, "The truest expression of a dragon's magic is in their breath. It won't need much. Just a brush. You don't want to disrupt her craft, after all."

    The cyborg seems to process this, but then nods once. "...for someone fighting this hard to save a child." She takes a step or two over, closer to the forge - and then blows, gently, briefly. Perhaps half a second of that bright, blue fire, blown over the forge. Intermingling with the flames the mandalorian-made device produces itself. The lightest brush of dragonfire, for good fortune.

  The old general eases herself to one of the outer walls, away from the forge, for the express purpose of leaning against it. Once more she reaches the ground with a tired grunt, mouth tightening. She's going to get back to the Rogue Shadow and she's going to sleep for at least eighteen hours straight.

  Right now, though, blue eyes flit between The Armourer, The Child, and Din Djarin. She understands this moment is significant, but she doesn't know enough about this particular galaxy to grasp the finer particulars.

  The Jedi... Juno's brows arch, and her eyes widen just a hair. Now that's a concept she understands. She's known and befriended many Jedi over the years, what few are left, starting with cantankerous old Rahm Kota.

  So she watches, clutching at her right side. It's not the pain of a fresh break, but the dull ache of a body pushed beyond its reasonable limits. The old general quietly bears witness to a ritual rarer than a conscientious Imperial. Rare -- but not impossible, as this eventful day has thus far proven.

    Piera nods solemnly as The Armorer remarks to her. She remains mostly silent, watching the beskar melt, and the portion of molten metal being scooped. She's watched blacksmiths working before, this is the same concept, but taken to the logical extreme with a metamaterial far stronger than anything she's encountered before.

    Mention of the Jedi means nothing to the Assassin, but the shift from Juno makes her own brow quirk. "The Jedi?" she enquires of The Armorer.

    Tonbokiri also has an interest in forging of metals. For obvious reasons -- he himself was forged, after all. So he's going to move a little to the side so he can see this as well.

    He has no context for what's going on, no... but watching someone particularly skilled at it forge a weapon or armor is always a joy to watch.

    Make no mistake, he's also listening to the conversation. But having no context for it, nor any idea how it's important, he doesn't see a need to interject. Konnosuke however, is facing the participants of the conversation and watching intently. Their master will want to sort through this later...

    While the craft is certainly interesting and the empty halls behind are certainly a distraction until the IG droid is set as a sentry, the mention of sorcerers really speaks her language.

    She really drills her gaze into the child now, seeing something far more than just a helpless and unique child being exploited. That also calls to mind her prior conversation with Juno. "Are these Jedi extinct, then? Mere legendary figures lost to time?" She tries not to think of one such example that may or may not be lurking near enough to seriously annoy the senses of anyone who can sense the dead. "If not..." Well, the obvious conclusion is to find them, isn't it?

    Dante cradles the little guy in his arms protectively, letting him watch as daddy gets a new piece of armor. "So what, are we gonna start going on a quest to find these space wizards?" He asks. "It's not like we can find 'em on Twitter." He points out. The Devil Slayer thinks, and thinks. "Unless maybe we do have at least something to go on." He says, looking right at Li and Juno.

    With the dragon's breath cast upon the beskar, The Armorer continues her work; pouring a small portion into a mold and beating it with a hammer once- twice- three times before she dips it into water to cool.
    "The Jedi were once numerous, but now, like we Mandalorians, they are scarce and likely in hiding just as we are. Where they may be found even I do not know." She replies to Piera and Li-Ming. Who's conclusion rings true.
    "The young one is a foundling. By creed it is in your care until it comes of age or is returned to its people. ... As it is too weak, it would die from the rigors of training, it must be returned." She decides The Child's fate.
    "This quest I task upon Din Djarin, who is to be as its father until such a time."
    "And he has earned his signet." Declared as she removes the freshly cooled beskar from its mold, shaped into the head of a horned creature, which she welds upon The Mandalorian's right pauldron.
    "... I will wear this with honor." The Mandalorian says softly.
    With that complete she turns to face the others. Her gaze lingering upon Tonbokiri. And the spear he represents.
    "Only once before have I seen a weapon of such fine make." She considers before looking to Dante. Her reply to him is much simpler:
    "This is the Way."
    Then she regards Juno. "You stand in silence yet seem to have so much to say. Perhaps you may have your own songs of the Jedi to regale upon Din Djarin."

    Piera mulls this over, then casts her eyes over to Juno when the matriarch Mandalorian addresses her., she eyes the old campaigner curiously from the darkness of her hood... faint golden glow limming her eyes.

  Blue eyes watch as the signet is fixed to Din Djarin's right pauldron, nostrils flaring at the scent of scorched metal and the sharp tang unique to the beskar. A smell most don't get to experience. Others may work the metal, but they will never have the mastery of one who has dedicated her very existence to the secrets of its shaping.

  Juno doesn't jump when she's called out, but it's a slow movement, an elbow inching back to hike herself a little more upright against the cool stone wall supporting her. She looks up to The Armourer, blue eyes still, mouth twisting in self-deprecating amusement.

  For the first time since the battle against Gideon, Juno finally speaks. It's more of a haggard croak. She is once again painfully self-conscious of her Imperial dialect.

  "I'm afraid I don't have much of a singing voice." Then, in a tone of high regard, "Who are you...?"

    Dante sighs. "Guess we're on a quest, then." He says with resignation.

    Having given a 'blessing', Hyouka watches the Armorer work, curious; she's not sure what she expects, really. Will something happen? Was it just the equivalent of a Shinto priest giving a blessing of good luck? Either way, she watches - and listens.

    She does, at the very least, look right into Mando's visor after he's properly given his quest. "You look after that kid. Being a dad is a big responsibility." That said, she turns to watch Juno curiously, tail curling and shifting in slow movements.

    Tonbokiri bows deeply to the praise from the Armorer. "Thank you. My former master took very good care of me, as does my present master," he notes. He speaks fondly of both of these people. "I am Tonbokiri, one of the Three Great spears of Japan."

    He's not bragging, mind. Just introducing himself. Since he actually hasn't done that yet. It's worth noting that he's introducing himself as the spear, rather than saying he is the wielder of it.

    He is, however, quick to volunteer for the 'quest'. "If we must find these Jedi to ensure the safety of this little one, I would offer my assistance. Though I do not know how much help I will be."

    Suspicion borne out, Li-Ming glances from the Smithy and Hyouka to Juno, then to Dante. "I suspect it's simply not the quest you might have had in mind." She steps back and gestures grandly, "We still have to leave, afterall." Then it's back to Juno.

    "You undersell yourself, I'm sure." Compliment and a prompt to share, all in one! How handy. A curious look is stolen toward Tonbokiri, then again to each member of the entire group. She'd thought she'd met diverse peoples before this place began trying to mix itself with her world. Despite the seriousness of the moment, she laughs softly and finds a place to ease back against the wall.

    There's still so much to learn!

With more spoken of--and yet more unsaid--Sonia can't help but give out a small, almost dark chuckle. Not mirth, but more of a mild snort that the woman has as she draws a few... parallels. Belmonts. Speakers. Creeds and more. Still, she did not feel it was her place to share her own here--nay, this was the time to bear witness and commit to memory of what lore here was presented through living through it. 

"We need to do more than leave. We need a way to leave here safely." she murmurs, loud enough to be heard from where she had taken to leaning against. 

    Who is she? It is a question that hangs in the air for a few beats as the Armorer stares down Juno.
    "I was once leader of this Tribe. Now I am merely a clan of one. I will take the beskar and begin again." Is all she says tp Juno Eclipse before her helmet dips in a slow nod.
    "A quest indeed. A quest in which Din Djarin may bring any allies of his choosing." She notes to the living legendary spear; his introduction seeming to hold her interest for a longer beat.
    Mando has been largely, reverently, silent up until this point, as he looks to Hyouka. "... I'll do my best."
    Sonia raises a good point though.
    "If you take the descending tunnel it will elad you to the lava river that runs down to the flats." The Armorer points the way. "Restock your weapons, supplies, and equipment before you go. However I do have one last gift for your journey." She does add, lifting what looks like a Mandalorian jetpack from one of her shelves.
    "Have you trained in the Way of the Rising Phoenix?"
    "When I was a boy, yes." The Mandalorian replies.
    And with that answer she turns and delicately deposits the jetpack in Hyouka's arms.
    "Carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to use it."

    And suddenly, jetpack.

    Hyouka blinks in muted surprise. "Er... yes, alright." She was not expecting to be handed a jetpack today. Then again, she wasn't expecting to sprout claws, a tail and wings today, so. Day of firsts, really.

  The scarred campaigner looks right back up at that slot-visored helmet. If she's intimidated, she's a good enough actress to mask it. It was a useful survival skill, within the ranks of the Galactic Empire.

  Juno tilts her head, coolly studying The Armourer.

  "Then may the Force be with you."

  She quiets, then, to listen to what else the woman might have to say. Her own name is unimportant; and that seems to signify the end of her voice once again. Juno lapses into thoughtful silence.

  Both brows arch as Din Djarin is presented with a Mandalorian jetpack, and she watches as the item is handed off to Hyouka for safekeeping. Another significant development. A certain bounty hunter had occasionally fallen into Imperial employ, and crossed paths with Rebel operatives; Juno had never met Boba Fett, but she had heard of the man and his impressive reputation as an unfailing hunter of his quarry.

  This time, though, the hunter is an ally... depending on how he decides to stomach her Imperial history, that is. Juno maintains her unhappy, ill-at-ease silence.

Pushing off from where she's been leaning, the Belmont looks to the others. "I will do what I can for your wounds. I know some of you are injured. We have a little time yet, I think." Sonia exhales slowly from where she stands. "It would serve all of us better to have some measure of rest... but I think there's a saying well enough on that." she remarks, her tone picking up a bit of dry bitterness towards those last words. And she'll make good on it--properly dedicating a bit of focused healing from her curiously ice-aspected arcana. 

At least, for those whom it can be well applied to.

    "So what do we do about you?" Dante points out. "We can't stay here, Stormies are probably gonna be kicking the doors down any moment now."

    "The Brotherhood has ebbed and flowed much similarly over the years." she confides to The Armorer. "Yours will rise again, stronger than before, as ours has." She then watches the passing of the jetpack, eying the device curiously. "The way is lit, the path is clear." she casts her gaze over the rest of her allies. "We require only the strength to follow it."

    Again, Li-Ming inclines her head to acknowledge a fair point. Sonia is right, of course. Safely. Regardless, she'll linger near Juno, her gaze moving back from the spectacle to... Stare back the way we came. The interlude has gone on too long. She doesn't trust it! Even with the droid out there. The droid that failed to protect that fascinating old man with the terse way of concluding a discussion.

    "Yes, let us first do what we are able to recover." Then, she simply sweeps a hand to Piera.

    Tonbokiri nods to the explanation from the Armorer. "I see. Thank you." He looks to the Mandalorian. "That leaves only your choosing then. If you would have me along, I would accompany you to find the Jedi," he offers.

    Sonia's mention gets a smirk. "'No rest for the wicked', hm?" he ventures. "Or the righteous." More seriously, though, he notes, "Whichever end of the spectrum you stand upon, if there is resting to be done, it cannot be done here."

    Perhaps it is for the best that Sonia performs that healing magic of hers once again. The group will be needing it for what is to come. But even still, some real rest would be for the best.
    Unfortunately there is no time for that here and now.
    "I have already said," The Armorer replies to Dante. "I will not leave until I have salvaged what remains."
    As she says this the report of blaster fire can be heard in the hall beyond. It silences after a beat, before the lanky figure of IG-11 peers into the room, blasters smoking in its grasp.
    "You are protected." The nurse droid declares matter of factly.
    "I'm not going to turn down the help, Mando replies to Tonbokiri. But as Piera said, all that's left to do is follow the path.
    "Always remember:" The Armorer says as the group gears up to leave. "When one chooses to walk the Way of the Mandalore, you are both hunter and prey. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?"