Norg Bral

Turning around with Alastair, his son's stuffed striile, a six-legged beast with loose, leathery skin and a mouthful of sharp teeth that only a Mandalorian child would be likely to find comforting, Lorcan holds it aloft and says, "Look who we . . . trailing off when he sees that Eimhin is not in the lobby with Fee and Raine, Lorcan turns back to the lovely young lass that found the striile, and says with a charmingly flirtatious, albeit mildly distracted smile, Ori'vor'e, mesh'la, and gives her a wink before walking over towards Fee, holding his arms out at his sides as he asks, Where's Em?"

Fionnuala, frowning as she looks towards where she last saw Eimhin before being distracted by an incoming message on her datapad, starts to say something only to be interrupted by Lorcan, who snorts and shakes his head.

Pointing at Raine, an unusually stern expression on his face, Lorcan says in a tone that makes it abundantly clear that he is not making a request, "Stay here with Fee." and then, already preparing the lecture he will be giving his son when he finds him about sticking by his side, a lecture that will clearly need to be more forceful than the one he had already given the lad earlier in the day, heads towards a corridor leading away from the reception area.

When, a few moments later, Lorcan finds EImhin, all thoughts of lecturing are immediately forgotten when he sees a caretaker beating his son with a wooden paddle. In point of fact, all conscious thought abandons Lorcan, and, seeing red, he willing surrenders to his rage. Saying nothing at all that would alert the caretaker to his approach, Lorcan closes the distance between them quickly and silently, the stuffed striile dropping from his right hand, which then clenches into a fist.

Once behind the caretaker Lorcan, with a surgically brutal economy of movement, reaches out with his left hand and grabs the wrist of the caretaker's hand that wields the paddle, wrenching it violently to the side, the bones cracking loudly as the wrist breaks. As he snaps the caretaker's wrist, Lorcan launches his right fist viciously out at the caretaker's kidney, the blow landing forcefully enough that it will not only have the caretaker seeing blood in the bowl when urinating for several days, but will also very likely momentarily paralyze him from the intense, immediate pain. The caretaker begins to fall, but Lorcan, still holding the wrist he has just broken in his left hand, keeps the man upright long enough so that he can grasp the back of his skull with his right hand, after which he drives the caretaker's face forward into the wall, explosively shattering his nose.

Releasing his grip on the caretaker's wrist, Lorcan lets the man drop to the ground, coldly watching him for a moment to see if the utreekov that dared to lay hands on his son has somehow managed to cling to consciousness. Fortunately for the caretaker, consciousness has left him for the moment, and Lorcan, resisting the urge to crush the caretaker's skull beneath his boot primarily due to the fact Eimhin is present, scoops his son up into his arms, holding him protectively close without saying a word, his stormy, jumbled emotions - murderous rage and equally strong love for his son - rendering him momentarily mute.

Walking back towards the lobby, stopping only to pick up the stuffed striile and hand it to Eimhin, Lorcan says nothing to Fee or Raine as he continues out towards Fee's speeder without saying a word to either.

*Raine turned her attention to to Lorcan when he told her to stay with Fee. Something in his voice sounded different from normal. Before she could speak, he had stormed off.
She returned her attention back to the kids again. After several minutes she began to feel something strange, as if she was picking up a lot of very strong emotions all at once. She glanced back to where her dad had gone, only to see him returning with Eimhin in his arms. Her little brother looked in poor shape.
She got up from her chair and went to stand by Fee as Lorcan carried Eimhin out the door without saying a single word.* "Fee. What's going on?"

*Eimhin's bright blue eyes filled with unshed tears as his father lifted his chin to maintain eye contact. The desperate plea in Lorcan's voice gave Eimhin pause. He made a promise then that he swore he would never break. He cuddled up against Lorcan as his father held him close and rested a cheek on his chest.*

"Elek, buir. I promise..."

Lorcan nods when Eimhin promises to abide by his rule, holding him tightly for a moment before returning to his silent contemplation of the view outside of the passenger window. Though he is usually not one to brood long on anything that troubles him by nature, Lorcan is nonetheless unable to mentally set aside what had happened as it has made him realize that he will more likely than not never be able to set aside his fear that something might happen to his son, and has given him a greater respect for his brother for having not only survived the loss of his sons, but to have been brave enough to adopt a daughter even though he must know that it will mean living in fear of something happening to her. It is, the more Lorcan focuses on it, maddening to think of how easy it is for something horrible to happen to a child, how capricious or fickle fate can be. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his jaw tightening, Lorcan chides himself for letting himself feel so helpless when there are things he can do, like train Eimhin to be able to defend himself against anything that he might face. It is, Lorcan knows as he thinks of Faelan's sons, no absolute assurance that his son will always be safe from harm, but it is better than nothing.

Thanking Fionnuala after she has dropped them off outside their vheh'yaim, Lorcan keeps one arm around Eimhin to hold his son to his chest, and sets the other on Raine's shoulder as he says, "Come on, let's go and see if your ba'vodu and Tee have made anything to eat," and then makes his way into the vheh'yaim.


Telarial and Faelan are just finishing laying the meal they have prepared out at the table when Lorcan and his children enter the dining area, and Lorcan, appearing as boisterously cheerful as even now that he has decided to do something other than just fret and worry, sits Eimhin down in his chair as he says, "Looks and smells good, and then takes his own seat as he asks Telarial, What is it?"

*As soon as Lorcan set him down, he ran up to Faelan. Craning his head back to look up at him, he tugged on his uncle's pants to get his attention. He quickly recounted what happened*

"Ba'vodu!! We went and got Alastair, see?! And when I was there I found my friend Gradoni. The mean man who hurts kids broke his goggles so I got mad. Then the mean man grabbed me and took me in the back and was hitting me and hurting me and buir came and saved me! I think he killed the mean man....I hope he doesn't hurt kids anymore."

*Eimhin inhaled another deep breath before continuing*

"Want to hold Alastair? Mama gave him to me."

*He started to hold the proffered stuffed animal up for his uncle to inspect but pulled it back in order to give his favorite childhood toy one last embrace.  As he gave his beloved Alastair a hug, he suddenly hissed in pain. He dropped Alastair and touched his right cheek. It was bruised from where the caretaker had roughly back handed him.*

Lorcan, in the process of attempting to clean Eimhin up enough to make the trip from the dining area to the bathtub without fear of leaving a trail of crumbs and other debris from the meal along the way when Telarial announces that she will be back soon before traipsing off into the night without a word as to where it is that she is traipsing off to, begins laughing hysterically.

"What?" Faelan asks, glancing with a perplexed and annoyed expression towards where his daughter has just vanished.

"It's just, Lorcan explains as he wipes the tears from his eyes once his laughter is somewhat under control, great and inspiring to see how the lessons of the past few days have, he waves a hand over his head and chuckles, gone sailing right . . ."

Lifting a hand to shut Lorcan up with a scowl, Faelan defensively interrupts his brother, "She can take care of herself. I trust her."

"Uh huh, Lorcan says, lifting Eimhin onto his shoulders after having cleaned the boy up as much as circumstances allow, and mutters to EImhin, Sounds like someone is trying to convince themselves, huh lil' buddy?"

Settling himself into a chair facing the front entrance with a scowl as Lorcan heads off to bathe Eimhin and get his son to bed, Faelan tells himself that he is just relaxing, not waiting for Telarial to return.

*Telarial was glad that she remembered the way to the smithies shop. The last thing she needed was to get lost out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night after her promise to return home within the hour. Faelan would lock her up and never allow her out of his sight ever again had that happened. She pulled up outside the shop and knocked on the door. It was starting to get a bit chilly out, now that the moon took full dominance of the night sky. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to keep warm when the cold still managed to seep through her jumpsuit. With a frown, Telarial knocked a second time. Had the smith retired for the night? She felt terrible that she couldn't remember his name...there was still a light on inside. She knocked a third time and was relieved when the smith finally answered it. He looked at her with a smile*

"Ah, yes. Telarial wasn't it? Faelan Bralor's daughter? What can I do for you?"

*Telarial hoped that he hadn't forgotten.*

"Sorry to disturb you at this hour. As you know, my father and I are leaving tomorrow for Agamar and we are going to be there for some time. I was wondering if my order was ready for pickup?"

*The smith smiled again and waved her inside*

"Come, come. Let's discuss this further by the fire. It's getting rather cold out and I don't think your father would appreciate it if I left you shivering out on the porch. He'd have my head if you got sick on my account!"

*Telarial smiled and shook her head with a laugh of her own as she accepted his invitation and stepped inside.*

"I don't think he'd go that far! I admit he gets...overprotective sometimes...well actually, most of the time."

*After the front door was closed the smith waved her over to a small table near the furnace and pulled up two chairs for them to sit in.*

"In answer to your previous inquiry, yes, I have finished your buir's gift."

*He reached behind the mantle where he had a metallic object wrapped and tied securely within the folds of thick cloth and handed it to her*

"I hope it is to your liking. It is ready for combat, just as you requested."

*Telarial eagerly took it out of his hands with a fond smile and carefully untied and unwrapped the object to get a good look at it. It was perfect!! She knew Faelan would love it. And deep inside...she was roaring with laughter, knowing that when the time came to present it to her father, admitting that the secret was out and that she knew the day of his birth...the look he would giver her, she knew, would be priceless!*

"This is beautiful! It's wonderful!! I can't thank you enough for taking time out of your busy day to craft this for me. Here is the payment that I owe you."

*She handed him a small pouch full of credits. The smith poured them out in his hand and appeared to count and appraise them. At last he frowned and turned a rather stern look at her.*

"What you gave me...its all wrong..."

"What?! But I was certain that I had enough credits fo--"

*He raised a hand to silence her. His stern expression melted away into a kind smile. He took half of the money she gave him and handed it back to her. Telarial was stunned and immediately began to protest but the smith cut her off before her frantic outbursts began*

"You gave me too much. Take what I gave you. Maybe you can find something else to give your father with the credits, yes? Oh! And one more thing...I know your buir expected the two of you to return to me in the morning for your beskar'gam but I finished it, minutes before you came knocking on my door! You can take it now. Tell your father he can pay me after you both return from Agamar."

*The moment Telarial laid eyes on her red and gold beskar'gam, fully retrofitted and combat ready, she jumped up and down like a giddy child who received their first blaster pistol. Without thinking, she hugged the smith, uncaring that he was in fact a different species...which kind she couldn't remember....and thanked him profusely.
He encouraged her to try it on to ensure that it was a perfect fit and that there were no problems with the new sizing. She refused to take off her new beskar'gam and on her way out the door she shouted one last thank-you. Then she was back in Faelan's speeder before the smith could blink. Wasting no time, Telarial quickly returned to Faelan's vehyaim. Holding the wrapped parcel...Faelan's birthday gift within her armor-gloved hands, she took a deep breath to calm her fluttering heart. She stood staring at the door for a good thirty seconds before entering. When she did she was met immediately by both Faelan and Raine who were seated directly before the entrance way she just utilized. At first she was at a complete loss as to what to say but then a sly grin crossed her face, even though Faelan couldn't see it due to her buy'ce, It was surely to be heard in her voice.*

"I never knew the front door required such a heavy degree of protecting.  Buir...were you....worried about me?"

Faelan grunts noncommittally when Raine assures him that Telarial will be fine, only the slightest suggestion of a smile curling the corner of his lip upward suggesting that he finds Raine's belief that his daughter would not actively seek out trouble to be mildly amusing given that recent history strongly suggests that trouble and Telarial are frequent companions no matter which goes off in search of the other.

Grunting a second time, the nuance of the noise this time suggesting reflection, when Raine asks him about the Verd'goten, Faelan does not, as is typical of him, not answer immediately, and instead chooses his words with his usual care. Raine's question is not a common one, nor is it lost on him that there is a very obvious reason that it would be on his niece's mind, but as Faelan is not one to be coy he ultimately elects to take Raine's questions at face value, rather than to assume that there is anything hidden motivating them. "An unbiased judge is chosen for each Verd'goten, Faelan explains, and they assess the supplicant's knowledge and understanding of our history, culture, and traditions, along with the supplicant's skills in areas such as armed and unarmed combat, survival, and so on. Sometimes the way of testing consists of a task chosen that requires the supplicant demonstrate all of those things, and at other times it may be a series of tests that each focuses on one skill. Folding his hands together and resting his chin on them, he goes on, As for your other question, there is no way to detect Force sensitivity or if it is being used, unless one is sensitive themselves. Other, he chuckles, than the obvious. that is. Using telekinesis or moving at impossible speeds would make it clear that the supplicant is Force sensitive, wouldn't it? And, yes, it does happen. Pursing his lips in thought for a moment, Faelan adds after a pause, If you are asking what is done in such cases, that depends on a Clan's stance on Force sensitivity, possibly even the individual judge's in some cases. Clan Bralor, for instance, does not shun Force sensitives. Why should Force sensitivity be seen as any different than other abilities or gifts unique to certain species or individuals? Should those gifted with greater physical strength or artistic ability be cast out because they were born with those things? Shaking his head, Faelan goes on, The war against Force users was misguided, foolish. A waste, he adds bitterly, forced to reflect by the topic on the deaths of his sons in that very war, and then sighs heavily, moving on, At least in the eyes of many in Clan Bralor. That war is over, perhaps not in the hearts and minds of all of the Mando'ade, but Force sensitives are not cast out by Clan Bralor at any rate, if that is what you are asking."

Turning towards the entrance, his relief clear to see in the brief instant before he adopts his more customarily stoic, humorless expression, Faelan dryly answers his daughter's teasing - and entirely accurate - suggestion that he was worried about her by sniffing and lifting his hand to gesture towards Raine as he says in an unconvincingly dismissive, obviously joking manner, "Worried, ad'ika? No, not at all. I was simply enjoying a conversation with Raine."




Lorcan lays down on EImhin's bed, content to continue snuggling with his son until the boy falls asleep. Frowning when asked to tell a story, Lorcan says with complete, yet feigned confidence, "Sure. A story. No problem. Falling back on his knowledge of Mandalorian history, Lorcan says, I'll tell you the story of Antos Wyrick, who tried to form a sect of Force using Mandalorians called the Mandalorian Knights on Osadia. See, Antos was a Zeltron scientist that joined the Neo-Crusaders during the . . ." glancing down at Eimhin after reaching the point in his story of how a young Antos had been taught martial arts by none other than Mandalore the Indomitable, Lorcan smiles as he sees that they boy, tired, bored by the story, or both, has fallen asleep.

Intending only to hold his son for a few moments more, Lorcan falls asleep himself.