Sep — Roleplayer Guild

Keldabe Administrative District // Mandalore // Mandalore Sector

Koren entered the main compartment of his shuttle, acting as his executive suite during his time on the surface of Mandalore. He nodded to his two guards who filed out of the room, as he keyed in a code to the holocommunicator. A signal from Mandalore wouldn't be able to reach within the transitory mists usually, however, his ship was in orbit to relay the signal and there was another cruiser on the edge of the mists to relay the signal within. He bowed his head respectfully towards his Queen, before turning his head up, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

"My Queen."

She returned the bow, and the smirk. "My Prince. How is your diplomatic visit?"

Formal. That means that she very likely has company. 

"My meeting with the Manda'lor was... postponed, due to tensions between himself and Empress of the Renkar Imperium. We were advised to leave while they, finished their discussion.  He stood up tall, hands behind his back, feet at ease. "I have however conversed with a Jedi Diplomat known as Ro Nuul. He is a fellow survivor, like me. Koren composed himself. Deep breathe in, release. Allow his negative thoughts out with his breathe. 

"He seemed hopeful, that whether through the Mandalorian Republic or the Renkar Imperium we should be able to form some form of alliance that will benefit us, to try and keep us safe from the Separatist Alliance."

"That is good news. Good news indeed...

Storm clouds brewing.

Drums echoed in the back of the Great Hall, ethereal singing came over the heads of the crowd who danced and cheered. The hall was a blur of colour, as people twisted and turned to the beat of the drums. The musicians at the far end of the hall controlled the flow off the room, they were at its mercy. Only Odin sat stoic and still at the far end of the hall on his great throne, Huginn and Muninn sat atop his shoulders. Gugnir in right hand, while his left tapped along as if controlling the beat of the drums.

The doors at the far side of the hall opened, and in walked Thor. Second son, and crown prince. He carried Mjolnir. His red cape billowed in his wake. He took a step into the room, smiling at Loki, his half sibling who danced among the denizens of Asgard. One second he was dancing closely as a man, the second as a woman. Weaving an elegant dance through the crowd, but never with a partner other than themselves. 

Thors steps thundered through the hall, mirrored by the beat of the drums as the tempo changed. Raindrops started to fall, though nobody in the crowd seemed to notice as their clothes became damp. Despite his forward walk Odin never seemed to get any closer. Thunder rumbled as his heart rate increased, and his speed picked up. The drums got louder and thundered in his ears, he could feel it them echoing in his skull. 

Feet splashing in the water, his pace continued to increase. Soon the water was up to his knees as he fought against the torrent of water that streamed down from Odins throne. The water was up to his knees when Odin slammed Gugnir on the ground and all the dancing stopped as everyone looked to him. They cheered and looked to the ceiling as the water turned to blood. Thor screamed, and lightning lanced out from him as the blood continued to rise. He tried to swim to the surface, to keep his head above it. Though soon he was consumed in its darkness.

Thor awoke with a start. A low rumble of thunder could be heard outside his small wooden cabin as he sat up, cradling his head in his hands. The same dream, again. It had been for the past several months. The dreams were the very reason he had come to Midgard, to this small cabin he had owned since the 1930s. War had been raging across the Nine Realms, a war he was responsible for in his ignorance. While with the assistance of many of the other Aesir peace had largely been restored, there were still small pockets of unrest. 

When the dreams began, he went to his mother. Who told him that what he needed was rest, a break from duty and responsibility. Having gone from one crisis to the next for nearly a century, and so he had returned here. To Midgard. A world where he felt more at home than he did within Asgard, he always had. The people here and a spirit, that he never saw anywhere else within the nine realms. 

Walking to the small sink he splashed some cold water on his face. Sighing as he heard a small. Tap, Tap, Tap at the window, as soon as he saw the ravens he knew.

It was time to return home.

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