Pedro Pascal/Character

Mandalorian 4 (Part 2)

The Mandalorian had given you directions to the Mandalorian covert down in the sewers, giving you a small crest, forged of beskar, telling you that if you showed them that, they would help you. You hung it about your neck, on a thin piece of string, descending to the underground tunnels.

You should have been scared, but for whatever reason, you felt confident as you navigated your way through the dark, your eyes adjusting quickly, everything still and silent. A warm blanket felt like it was coated over your shoulders. Maybe that was the result of wearing the Mandalorians cape around you. He had insisted you take it, the sewers were cold, above ground was not. Knowing time was of the essence, you hadn't argued, allowing him to fasten the clasp under your chin,both of you going your separate ways. 

You held no weapon in your hands, although you were armed. Surprise would be the key to winning against a Mandalorian, if it came to that. Still, you itched to bring out something. Even just a throwing knife. 

"It isn't wise to be down here alone." A females voice, rich and threatening, filled the room. Your Mandalorian had warned you about everything in the helmets. There was no doubt she could see you, having the visual advantage of sensors. You only had your eyes, darting around, settling on a shadow that hadn't been there before. 

"I came here seeking Mandalorians." You responded, keeping your stance neutral. 

"And you have found us." Another voice, male, rough and harsh, directly behind you. Instinct made you duck, and you felt air passing over you. You swept their legs out, hearing a thud. How big is this guy? You thought, retreating away. You weren't here for a fight.

"Impressive." The female spoke. A light flicked on, temporarily disorienting you. A pair of arms grabbed around your back, and you flung your head back to smack into a nose. A helmet. 

Clang. 

Ouch.

The sound echoed, and you hissed in pain, drawing your legs up and kicking away from them, getting your bearings back. Four Mandalorians, their armour varying. Your eyes were drawn to one with a golden helmet, a forgers tools on her belt. 

"I was sent to recruit you." You ground out, your ears ringing. "A Mandalorian gave me this." You showed her the necklace. 

"You could have acquired that anywhere." She was unfazed. 

You grit your teeth. Your Mandalorian had been reluctant, but had told you two words that would possibly help you out. "Din Djarin." The words carried. You could sense their disbelief. 

"He gave out his name?" The biggest stepped forward. 

"He didn't tell me thats what it was." You frowned, a blade sliding into your hand. Fuck the element of surprise, you wanted protection. 

"Din Djarin sent you to ask us to do what?" The female spoke again. She was much like your Mandalorian, demanding attention, although she was more vocal than he was. 

"He is rescuing a child from a client. He will need your help." You glanced around, aware of more Mandalorians appearing, their blank faces staring at you. 

"Then you will need armour." 

~

You protested several times, but the helmets must have been messing with their hearing, because you were handed a set of armour, luckily just a cuirass, and you had no choice but to put it on. You didn't mention how the cuirass inhibited your ability to attain the weapons concealed around your torso, but they couldn't fail to notice how difficult it was for you to move. The armour was heavy, and you wondered how your Mandalorian was able to move as easily as he did in a full set of the dense material.