- TAKE TIME WITH A WOUNDED HAND STONE TEMPLE PILOTS LYRICS FULL
- TAKE TIME WITH A WOUNDED HAND STONE TEMPLE PILOTS LYRICS SERIES
Education and armor, self-defense, our clans, our language, our leader- that is the Resol’nare.
“There is no Mandalore without the Mand’alor, Fett.
“There has to be a Mand’alor.” Adnoai hisses. “I haven’t been the Mand’alor since Galidraan.” He mutters. And you’re what we’ve got.”įett drops his gaze, hands stilling. “I need the Mand’alor, Fett.” He says sharply.
TAKE TIME WITH A WOUNDED HAND STONE TEMPLE PILOTS LYRICS FULL
“What else was I supposed to do? You ditched the comm-line the jed’ika gave me.” He says.įett gives him a look full of temper. Adonai sets the glass down and finds his own seat. He pours, and offers one to Fett, who nods towards the table beside him, hands busy. “They’re bad tails and they are getting in my way.”Īdonai walks over to his shelves and fetches two glasses and a his bottle of Mandalorian spiced rum from its gift case. “Stop sending bounty hunters after me.” Fett says tersely, fishing a quick-stick of flesh-plast from his belt and eyeing the sear through his under-armor with distaste. Fett takes it and stands with a grunt, forcing a steady stride as he follows Adonai over to the small sitting area that separates his private bedrooms from the hallway and takes an offered seat. “To what do I owe this privilege?” He stands, strides over, and offers Fett a hand up. “Mand’alor.” Adonai finally acknowledges, the point clearly made. “Jorad’alor.” He acknowledges, shifting his weight and hissing when he tests the wound with two fingers.Īdonai stares coldly back at him for a long beat of silence, and something in the other man’s gaze shutters.
“But you weren’t Jaster Meeral’s only student.”įett growls. “You may have been his son,” Adonai says sharply. The first one misses the mark, hits the beskar’gam, and strangely fizzles out, but the second one makes the mark.įett curses as that leg buckles and yanks off his helmet. “Beaten?” Adonai inquires, and snaps an switch with his thumb, the bracers on his wrists releasing a swarm of tiny flare-bots, incendiary bright and enough to overwhelms the sensors on a helmet, blinding Fett as Adonai breaks his hold, rolls forward, drawing his blaster from his boot, and turns to plant two bolts in the soft gap between the armor plates on Fett’s leg. “You never used to be so easily beaten, Lord Kryze.” Fett growls, and Adonai closes his eyes, letting out a soft huff before opening them again, his eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom. Adonai jerks his hands up and freezes when his attacker speaks. Weight falls hard on him from above, buckling him to a knee as an arm wraps around his throat and an armored knee digs sharply into his back. The arched ceilings were beautiful, but he’d hated them from the day he moved in. Nothing seems to have been moved, but his senses are telling him things are not right, and Adonai steps further into the room. He listens to the quiet, and pauses, scanning his surroundings. His own temper does him little favor, these days. He takes a deep breath when the door closes behind him, forcing his hands to unclench and to steady. His blood is boiling after another useless day spent mediating between the Lords of the Old Clans and the Lords from Sundari, representing the New Mandalorians and their capitol city.Īfter that, the quiet of the halls is a welcome relief, and he nods in respect to every man and woman on guard in his household as he passes them and heads to his own rooms. Too large, too empty, too orderly – utterly unlike the rest of Keldabe in that regard. It was formidable and artful and he was fond of it – this was where he has raised his daughters, after all, but it was not home. The floors were original wood, carefully maintained and preserved for generations, the foundations all stone and beskar iron, as were some of the older halls and the kitchens, but most of the common areas were had been renovated with plastoid, duracrete, and transparisteel, all of it molded together to feel enduring and timeless. Like the capitol itself, the Royal Stronghold was an ecclectic mix of construction.
TAKE TIME WITH A WOUNDED HAND STONE TEMPLE PILOTS LYRICS SERIES
← Previous Work Part 11 of the The Desert Storm series Next Work →Ĭompleted Gen Recommendations, Star Wars The Clone Wars, Narsil's Favorite COMPLETED Fanfics Stats: Published: Completed: Words: 59520 Chapters: 27/27 Comments: 1482 Kudos: 4619 Bookmarks: 173 Hits: 66783Īdonai Kryze marches through the halls of the Royal Stronghold of Keldabe, his home since he was chosen as the Jorad’alor – the voice of the people.