Ad Vizsla

Zsoldos

Saga Drinking Hall

The Saga was abuzz with activity, the most in many weeks. The past month was beyond busy for many of Clan Vizsla, some even longer than that, with numerous changes to membership from promotions to leadership shifts, to the dealings with the Quantum Shadows and preparations with the Brotherhood for future events. To say that the chaos had been good for business was an understatement.

So when the new Proconsul called for the Clan to gather at the Saga, to use the grand drinking hall for its intended purpose - to celebrate - a crowd showed up at the great wooden structure, filling its large rooms once again with warm bodies, drinks, and conversation. What few proved stubborn, well, it was handy to be the second-in-command. Was it an abuse of power to order your workaholic allies to take a night off?

Numerous tables were taken up by various groups; Lontra and Malodin'Tater at one, likely talking business of some sort, with Valhavoc, Zed, Kodo Obrim, and Dracaryis being a rowdy bunch at their own, and Mako, Azler, Arcia, and Elequin having a far more subtle conversation at another. Occasionally Kora would drop down from the rafters to refill her own cup before returning to her vantage point. Around dozens more tables sat similar described scenes that could be seen and heard around the tavern.

However, most of the rank and file were gathered at a table nearest the bar itself. To add further incentive to indulge for the night, the red-scaled Barabel/Feeorin had made an offer to the entire Clan; a game of chance to decide if they were going to be paying for their own drinks or if the Proconsul was. To say the least, his table was almost constantly surrounded. As the case goes with chance, nearly half got their first mugs on the Sith’s dime, but when many got greedy and attempted for more, that number whittled down and down, until only one member still had not needed to bring out their own wallet.

“Take this man to a casino!”

“Thinking I should buy some lottery tickets and have Haro scratch them for me.”

“Lady Luck clearly has a favorite tonight, the bastard.”

The cheers, the jeers, all kinds of comments rang in the air each time the Human won his bet.

“You all give credit where it doesn’t belong,” calls out Kindle, leaning back in his own seat and staring across the table to Haro. “The man before you has completed too many jobs for luck to be what he relies on, I’m certain. I’ve heard stories of your blaster abilities, luck doesn’t land the kind of shots I’ve heard about you landing, nor win the fights they’re fired in.”

Haro keeps his focus trained on the Proconsol, giving little mind to the compliments. It wasn’t out of a hardcore need for mead that he had continued playing these games. “Takes a lot of training, and paying attention. Like the fact that you keep very subtly tapping your drink twice as you set it down whenever you take one of these bets. Haven’t noticed who yet, but I’d wager you’re signalling someone here to help you decide who wins your little gambles.”

A hearty laugh escapes the hybrid’s maw, shark-like fangs exposed by his wide grin. “Eyes like a jai'galaar as well. It is clear why many sung your praises when I came into this position, you clearly deserve what they say about your skills. Out of respect for you, how about one final bet? I assure you, no interference from anyone, you have my word.”

The armor-clad man before him gave a focused look. “Credits, not words,” he spoke, but nodded in agreement after a moment. Kindle reached for his right sleeve, leaving the cards and coins he had previously used in other bets untouched. He pulled out a new coin, though only showing its side to Haro before quickly rotating it to his thumb and flicking it high into the air, angled just enough that as it came down, his fellow Mandalorian snapped out his arm and caught it.

Turning his palm up, Haro opened his fingers to see the Vizsla coin within his grasp, its logo facing him.

Hidden grey eyes moved quickly to the monstrous summit member, finding him standing tall with drink in hand. The entire hall had fallen silent around them, attention demanded by the sudden movement.

“Credits not words indeed, and you, Haro Zylrun, have proven your credits to be cast at a higher quality than most, a bet won by our Clan when it gambled on taking you in. Job after job, working hard, working smart, and proving to the universe that the mettle of our group stands - as ever - strong as beskar! You show yourself more than a mere man among many, but joining the likes of few among us, a clear inspiration to all who pledge themselves to our work! Two million credits earned, hard and fair!” Called out the Proconsul as he raised his drink higher. “To those honored few of the Ad Vizsla! To their newest member and title holder, the sanctioned Haro Zylrun! May he and the others never see their coffers empty, may Vizsla’s hoard dwarf all others, and may this day be Haro’s last spending any credits of his own on drinks within our hallowed halls! To the many more good times and credits to come! Gedeteyar!”

A moment of silence as the words were taken in was all the quiet the rest of the night was given as quickly a thunderous roar echoed within the wooden structure - claps, cheers, and celebration quickly filling the space for hours to come. Reaching to the pitcher on the table, Kindle refilled Haro’s drink once more, completing his end of the bargain and marking the last time his mug was ever empty within Vizsla territory.

Congrats Haro Zylrun

Through your actions you have surpassed two million credits earned on behalf of the Clan, as such you have earned the right to Vizsla's clan title. Thank you for your loyalty and longevity with the Clan, because of this you deserve to be called ad Vizsla and walk amongst the best of our clan. It is an honor to bestow the Clan title of Ad Vizsla. Congratulations, Haro!

This is the Way.