Bryn'adûl | Attack on Lowick

[Tathra Khaeus]

​​

​Weakness is a disease.

​Lowick had became home to many species, a small backwater world on the edge of unpatrolled Wild Space. Many had fled here, hoping to avoid the Bryn'adûl forces. Whispers spread across the galaxy, worlds hoped to remain small, unnoticed - Lowick most of all. The planet bordered Bryn'adûl territory and had been home to those who departed before their arrival in previous ventures.

​For five years, the Bryn'adûl's push had halted at Caradim. Their seemingly merciless attack upon civilisations ceased. Until recently. News of the attacks on Eshan and Vasar spread, whispers of intergalactic savages waging war on those they deemed impure and weak. Lowick had hoped the distance meant the Bryn'adûl no longer cared for Wild Space. However, this had been a diversion.

​For too long Lowick sat within the view of the Bryn'adûl, a peculiar and disgusting populace that dealt with little more than trade. They would become more through their death.

​The capital city of Lowick was Kra. Lowick had always been a rain forest planet, admired for its swath of green by merchant guilds and industry. Thus, the majority of the planet remained uncultivated. Thusly Kra itself whilst still a super-structure; sat embedded in a valley, surrounded by forested mountains on all sides.

​They had been shoring up their military forces, yet the call to arms had been too late.

​Weakness is a disease.

​Beyond the city, a massive plateau rested at the base of a mountain. On that plateau, a total of five riders gathered upon their Skags, slowly rising to the edge of the plateau. Two flanked the fifth rider; Hrajlmak - a Shaman, one favoured by the High Shaman for his ferocity. And another, who the fifth did not recall the name of. The following two were Zealots, each guarding the Shaman adjacent. At the head of the pack, sat their Chieftain.

​Tathra gripped at the reigns, hand patting the Skag's side as he hushed its restless motions. Like any loyal creature, the Skag fed on the rider's feeling. Tathra could not blame it, for even though it was not physically apparent his impatience lingered.

​Disgust marked the external plated features, the muscles underneath articulating his growing disliking of Lowick. The view itself brought a snarl, weakness was a disease and Lowick carried the stench of weakness upon its very soil. The Bryn'adûl would save this planet from its inhabitants, strengthen the very earth.

​Beneath the valley, a swath of Bryn'adûl warriors lead by the newly established Brute Vanguard under Athlass' command waited underfoot. They were to attack the Capital from within, ferried by underground transport through the tunnels after Hadad struck. Once the Brute Vanguard had successful cleared a landing area; Ra'mak War Beasts would deliver Savages to the field, and Hadad would ensure none escaped the city on the ground whilst the War Beasts kept the skies clear.

​The Chieftain's mass anchored forth, dismounting as he spoke, his words carried telepathically by the Shaman's flanking him. Moving toward the precipice.

​[Before us, they're lives meant nothing. Through death they will become more, a sacrifice to strengthen us.

​Tathra knelt, a hand placed on the rock beneath; it was then that the ground shook - Hadad answered his Chieftain's call, the earth shook, the city trembled as the massive Servitor created the tunnel directly into the centre of the Capital, erupting from the ground as the Palace shrunk underneath his shadow. The near five-thousand metre long beast wailed, its gargantuan maw causing blood to ooze from the ears of humans and their ilk.

​Weakness is a disease.
​Let the purification begin.

​| [member="Hrajlmak'Natok"] | [member="Klasst Athlass"] | [member="Gylath"] |​

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Years he had waited. Years he had idled on Draemidus with nothing but the Force to bide his time. Having been reprimanded for his actions on Eshan, Hrajlmak had not been called to any battle since. For Five Years he had sat, furious and impatient.

But now, he was back.

He looked over the City before him with anger and disgust. Such emotions he fed to the creatures under his command. The Skag he sat on was frantic, growling and snarling as it kicked up the stones around it. The Chieftain dismounted his own and began to speak with words that inspired and excited. Hrajlmak straightened his back, the segments of his anatomy shifting and flexing as deadly anticipation coursed through him. He gripped his Staff in one hand and began to move the reigns in the other.

Hrajlmak pulled his Skag around. It was an honor to return to the battlefield alongside the Chief, but any greetings would be kept until after. Hrajlmak's eagerness to slaughter transcended his sense of formality. He faced away from the commanding group and began his departure from the Plateau.

Accompanied by a couple hundred Draeyde Swarm, followed by a near-army of Drones, Hrajlmak pounded toward the city. His eagerness was trumped only by his anger at the sight of the pitiful civilisation. He gripped his staff with deadly intent, his teeth began to bare and his body leaned in closer. As he neared, he spoke out to the creatures under his command and, with a simple gesture, sent the tendrils of the Draeyde swarm into the city. Tearing past Hrajlmak the swarm infected the city at the street level, ripping the people apart. At over a hundred miles per hour, Hrajlmak himself tore into the city. His entrance was denoted by his bellowing shout, followed by the shatter of a skull against the swing of his Staff. His first kill in years, and he reveled in it. He jumped from his Skag, sending it charging into the nearest residential building. Its massive frame tore through the walls and supports, bringing a sizeable portion of the building down. Hrajlmak activated his staff, an arcane red scythe blade emitting from the Bone Headpiece. Before he began, he observed his surroundings. Aerial Savages hunted the terrified populace, intercepting those who tried to escape into alleyways and dismembering every open individual.

It was good to be back.

With another gutteral roar, Hrajlmak coaxed the Drones deeper into the city with him. He spun around and sent his boot into the nearest Pa'lowick, crippling the being and sending it tens of feet. Consumed in his violence, Hrajlmak began his rampage across the City.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] - [member="Klasst Athlass"] - [member="Gylath"]​

 

[Chance Bonaventure]

Gylath was a simple creature. He fought, he won and he relished in the killing. That was life. Battle and victory. So when it came time to attack Kra, the capital city of the planet, it was a welcome moment. For far too long Gylath had been without bloodsport, unable to sate his hunger and destroy those before him. Now, though, was the time - finally.

"Gylath bring ruin," The hulking monster said as he lumbered forward with the bulk of the other forces he was part of. "Leave none alive."

The Pa'lowick were pathetic, lowly beings. They were little challenge. Still, this was simply the first step, and the warrior knew that in time his enemies would become more dangerous. But for now, slaughtering a pathetic species would have to do, at least it would let Gylath work the rust out of his form. It had been far too long since he had crushed a sentient's skull within his fingers, or pulled a head completely from the body of another, but those moments of delicacy would soon be realized again...

Hefting his large staff-like axe, Gylath caught sight of his first victims. He leapt toward them, smashing down heavily on powerful legs, before he began to hew them limb from limb!

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Three silhouettes gathered round the large work-table, the table top held a blue holographic map of Kra, illuminating each member of the dogged team. Zirell leaned forward, the chains of her alchemised greaves clinking as she manipulated the holographic projection to isolate the destruction of the Palace. A crater replacing the area that once held the beautiful piece of architecture upright. Beside the lithe smuggler turned guerrilla, Casba's broad metallic frame came clearly into view as he leaned toward the holographic projection.

​"Well, its a good thing you evacuated the Palace and its immediate area Eskel." ​The massive mercenary remarked, looking to the human that stood among them. He was relatively small compared to the two eight foot tall Jedi that had joined them. But, they all heeded his word. Eskel had more experience with the Bryn'adûl than any of the them. He was the sole survivor of the Brother's supersoldier program, one which had been hunted to near extinction by Zealots.

​Eskel writhed with some discomfort, only managing a nod of acknowledgement as a strain of anxiety had overcome him. They had been lucky, allotted time to shore up their defences, but there would never be enough time for the four of them to be ready for what was coming.

​​​"Where is Djuron? He should be here.." ​Zirell spoke abruptly, the break in her voice indicating to Eskel that he wasn't the only one who was suffering with a serious anxious streak.

​The door to the lighthouse slid open, allowing the hunched Djuron to enter the room. His breastplate was scorched, a dent present in his helm already. He appeared hurried, pulling himself into the room whilst the other hand held curved hilt in hand. ​"They're pouring in from the tunnel. So many lives lost!" ​​​Immediately, both Casba and Zirell moved for their sabers - meaning to leave via the entrance. ​"Remember Zirell, you cannot engage directly. You are supposed to wait for him​."

​Impatience forced a pout, but wisdom granted Zirell the knowledge that her impulse had to be controlled. It didn't matter how much of his​ vast horde they cut down. It all came down to his Generals and him. ​"We can get their Chieftain. We can." ​Eskel spoke, finally - offering some semblance of reassurance to the stirring Casba and Zirell. ​

"Perhaps. All we have to do is let our friends die." ​None of them were happy about it, in particular Casba appeared prickly on the topic. Sacrifice for a maybe just wasn't good enough.

​​"We all agreed to this. Too late to back out now." ​Zirell made the decision for them all, pushing past Djuron and leaving the lighthouse. ​

​"That settles it then, we help were we can. But we must focus on our objective."


​~

​Tathra mounted his Skag once more, retracting their steps to the depths of the plateau. As the various groups of Bryn'adûl forces began their approach; their Chieftain's Skag paced itself as they made their way down the mountainside, the Generals splitting off from him now to see to their forces. Tathra's Skag managed to beat past the majority of the others, trampling the forces that did not make way for him path.

​To the Bryn'adûl's surprise, what appeared to be Trebuchets and Ballista's had been erected on the outer walls. Strange contraptions appeared from nowhere, technologically uprooted from hidden placements in the defences. Massive shrapnel bombs were fired from the trebuchets, releasing massive spikes into the surrounding area. Luckily the Skag he rode on was agile enough to dodge the incoming ballista shots, Tathra raised his Axe from his back; striking at an incoming ballista shot and knocking the projectile away.

​Luckily, a majority of those killed were the Savage Drones that were already beginning to climb the outer walls; above Ra'mak War Beasts delivered Tathra's Zealot squads to the exterior defences, intending to make the job easier for the sieging forces. Even still, in minutes hundreds of their own would be dead. Luckily almost all replaceable fodder. Anti-air guns fired railgun rounds at the War Beasts, taking some out of the sky.

​The effectiveness of the Pa'lowick Capital's defences was impressive, and entirely unheard of. It meant one thing, they had help. Perhaps even so help from those that had faced the Bryn'adûl before. Even so, their forces would be destroyed. Kra would burn.

​| [member="Gylath"] | [member="Hrajlmak'Natok"] | [member="Klasst Athlass"] |​

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Hrajlmak looked up from a writhing Pa'lowick to watch as large bolts and balls of exploding shrapnel tore through his drones. He had heard nothing of capable defence but upon realising this, was excited for the challenge. As another Shrapnel bomb fell, Hrajlmak crushed the Pa'lowick's proboscis in his grip and threw it toward the bomb as it exploded, tearing the small frame apart. He uttered a furious roar and began striding toward the outer walls.

Hrajlmak disregarded the destruction of his drones. He knew there was always more. Cutting down the scuttling civilians he stopped near the outer wall, craning his head up to gaze at a trebuchet. Pitiful, he thought to himself. His scaly arms reached out and gripped the disgusting mechanism from a distance. Immediately, he began to wrench on the trebuchet, slowly pulling it from its foundations. As he struggled against the construction, a gutteral growl grew within his throat. He leaned back, his body flexing all over. The growl became a roar as the Trebuchet began to shudder and lean forward. Hrajlmak's anger and violence fuelled his affinity with the force, his struggle only giving more strength to his pull. Finally, he brought his arms to his chest and, with a final piercing roar, the Trebuchet was uprooted and began its unstoppable fall over the wall.

Hrajlmak grinned savagely and leapt toward the wall, intent on ascending it and annihilating what pitiful defences the Pa'lowick had erected from the inside out.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] - [member="Gylath"] - [member="Klasst Athlass"]​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

More and more bolts came towards the Chieftain, his Skag doing its best to manoeuvre whilst Tathra himself reflected several back with his Axe. Each strike pulled at the muscle ligaments, the pure force causing his body to shudder due to the intensity of the Ballista's kinetic force. Trebuchet's released shrapnel bombs, brutalising the Savage Drones as multiple large shards shot out like bullets that cut their bodies to shreds.

​The Ballista's were aimed for the larger threats, including Tathra. Many, fired at the now identifiable Chieftain as he strode forth to the vanguard of his forces. The Zealots on the battlements were met by fierce resistance in the form of many numbers. They would not carve a path as easily as they had expected, unable to stop all of the Ballistas in time.

​The soldiers hastily armed the Ballista once more, loading the weapon and readying the firing Mechanism. They aimed, watching as the gargantuan steed the red titan closer and closer. The battlement's were Commanded by Detlaff, a nanotech cyborg. Whatever he was, his men did not know. But, he lead them all the same. ​"Fire on the red one!"

​A dozen ballista bolts flew toward Tathra, passing by multiple and deflecting few; it would not be enough. The Skag was almost instantaneously obliterated, its body torn into chunks of meat as Tathra was thrown from his saddle. The titan spun toward the ground, slamming into the earth, he refuses to relinquish hold of his weapon. No matter how difficult, the fingers of his dominant hand to not move whatsoever. Landing on his knees, Tathra moves immediately, avoiding the following bolts as he charges on foot toward the battlements.

​The ground quivers, the mass of the Chieftain creates a thundering clap with every step, the deafening sound colliding with the pandemonium of the battlefield. At last, the Zealots are successful; causing one of the caches of Trebuchet ammunition to explore. Hundreds of shards obliterate a few nearby Ballista's and create a crevice in the wall. Tathra makes way for the crevice, his strength granting leaps of many metres as he lands within hands reach of the crevice, Axe placed on his back for the climb.

​Slaughter was near, he could feel the swath scent of his Bryn'adûl - his fighting Draelvasier. The glory of combat absolves all notions of doubt, this is the purity of nature. Violence, endless violence. But, instead of climbing to the battlements to cut down every Ballista with righteous rage - the Zealots lay dead just beyond the crevice and Tathra is thrown from the battlement, a twelve foot shadow hanging over him.

​However, his attacker is pulled down with him; large hands grasp at metal and both tumble downward, landing amongst the rubble; Detlaff rises first - his robotic form knows no pain. The Chieftain rises quickly, eyes forward as he anticipates that Detlaff will wish to maintain control of the fight. He will not allow Tathra to reach for his Axe, not whilst holstered on his back.

​The massive cyborg begins a ruthless assault, striking at Tathra's joint in an attempt to destabilise his defence; instead he finds he is quickly countered. Tathra's hand to hand skills had been honed over nearly a century, he passed by Detlaff's strikes, landing vicious blows that shuddered his metal frame.

​| [member="Hrajlmak'Natok"] | [member="Gylath"] | [member="Klasst Athlass"] |​

​

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Sinking his claws into the wall, one after the other, Hrajlmak brought himself to the top in seconds. Once at the summit of the rudimentary defence, Hrajlmak straightened and composed, laying his eyes over the retreating Pa'lowick and the Trebuchets as they continued their relentless assault. With a visual of nearly everything he considered important, Hrajlmak refocused his connection with the beasts behind him. The city was of no concern. It was empty save for the scuttling civilians. With a roar, Hrajlmak extended his arm toward the surface below him. What followed was a cacophony of screams and shrieks announcing the movement of the bulk of the Bryn'adul ground force.

The Draeyde under his command screamed past him on all sides, first ascending above the ground below, then dive-bombing, viciously attacking the newly terrified Pa'lowick and the pitiful army that had been raised in response. The Drones followed soon after, delayed only by their climb up the wall. Once at the top, hundreds leapt, dropped and clumsily fell from the wall's summit, resuming their attack on the population the second they hit the ground. Once the attack on the defence force was in full-swing, Hrajlmak reignited his staff and dropped himself to the surface. Hrajlmak was buzzing, alive with vicious intent. Another gutteral roar pushed forth from his maw before he began mowing down what soldiers came to face him.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Zhar Xirces]

The clone Baedurin sat atop his Skag, which had on both sides of it more arrows for the massive Farshot he carried, moving in closer quickly, on it's side also was a Kinetic Hammer for once he made it in closer. Fortunately, they were already so focused on the massive forces and in particular [member="Tathra Khaeus"] to yet start aiming at him, although a few started coming his way his Skag was quite able to keep him out of the way. A low rumble emerged from the massive creature as he pulled back the crossbows line and placed a Draemidus Prime Ore arrow into it, explosive. He raised the weapon in line with a ballista, raised it higher, and released. The massive bolt soared the the air as the powerful twang of the bow did, he didn't even bother to wait for it to land before he started pulling back the string again.

And it did indeed hit, slamming into one of the arms of the baluster shattering it and the splinters and resulting shattered Ore flinging off as debris slicing into those nearby. Another low rumble, a chest like chuckle, if that's what it could be called. He patted his Skag muttering to it as they started to move forwards again, this time a little more quickly, he loaded another arrow, aimed, and loosed, this one landing in a group aboard the battlements, splitting a man to pieces and sending shards into others, as another was pulled and loosed to hit one of the trebuchets. He grunted as one of the ballistas started to fire at him and his Skag, muttering again as they picked up pace and altered course, he moved the hammer to a more manageable position, stretched, aimed, had to remanuver, then loosed again this time at the Ballista that had chosen him as a target.

Another low rumble as it made its way to its target, he closed in on the battlements.

[member="Hrajlmak'Natok"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​As the cyborg Detlaff staggered, he used the shift in his momentum to spin on his heel - slamming the full weight of his body and momentum into the side of Tathra's head as his foot connected with the base of his skull. Tathra could feel a mixture of blood and splintered teeth leaving his jaw, his form tumbling mid movement as skidding to a halt.

​The Chieftain's jaw tightened, teeth cutting into flesh as black oozed from his maw. Immediately turning to face his opponent as another strike caught him, raising both arms in defence as the blow struck his wrist, sparing his cranium from another twelve ton weighted impact. The strike caused him to stagger, but the balance of his defence allowed him to recover quickly as Detlaff clasped his hands into a joint fist, slamming down on Tathra.

​Tathra grappled at the cyborgs waist, stepping to his left as he got behind the cyborg with arms wrapped around his abdomen, lifting the cyborg with a backward jump, using his left hand to apply pressure to the chest; slamming the cyborg into the ground. Immediately Tathra lunged ahead, rolling on his arms as to keep a distance from the blades that could possibly appear from the cyborgs gauntlets.

​With his dominant hand, Tathra brought the Axe around from the left as the cyborg moved to his feet; slamming into his right knee and causing him to fall once more. The Axe moved in an arch, the right hand catching the loosely swung blade by the end of the shaft as he prepared to strike again.

​In a sudden jolt, the cyborg activated hidden thrusters in his calves and spine; slamming into the Chieftain with great force and flipping over the giant red Tathra, instinctively the Chieftain turned to face his elusive foe. Immediately, one of his wrist blades exploded from him as a projectile - slamming into and penetrating Tathra's armour below his right pectoral, cutting twelve inches deep. Tathra winced in pain as the Cyborg charged, a second blade going for the throat.

​Immediately, the Hraelk Axe was risen - and both exchanged blows as the Chieftain drew the Cyborg in close, using his advantageous weight and range to quickly evade each strike as they came. Tathra caught a diagonal blow with the outside of the shaft, using his right hand to quickly thrust the pommel upward and knock the Cyborg back. Immediately, Tathra leapt to the side as a massive ballista bolt cracked into the earth but a few feet away.

​Tathra ripped the projectile blade from his chest, black oozing from his wound as the Cyborg activated his thrusters; coming for the staggered Chieftain. Tathra waited till he drew close, he would turn their technological weaponry upon them - usurping their strength to his own advantage. Tathra moved as a blur, grapping hold of the nearly twelve foot long ballista shot with both hands; ripping up chunks of earth as his mass anchored round, colliding with the Cyborg with ballista arrow in hand.

​The strike hit with such great force that the Cyborg was flung backward and into the city walls. Small shards of duracrete crumbled around him as the Bryn'adûl Chieftain bellowed, charging him with the massive arrow underarm - slamming it into the centre of his chest with such force that the wall around them crumbled, a Drael sized hole created as Detlaff created a pathway through the wall; Tathra charging into the courtyard, beginning to slow as his fatigue caught him. Slamming Detlaff into a salvo of supply crates with the arrow falling aside.

​Immediately, Savage Drones began to pour through the hole as Tathra raised his Axe overhead; releasing a terrifyingly prideful scream of vicious bloodthirst.

​| [member="Zhar Xirces"] | [member="Hrajlmak'Natok"] |​

 

[Zhar Xirces]

Zhar fired again, and gain's ending the massive bolts soaring through the air. Each one tearing through the battlements weapons, or it's soldiers. Pointless to block, difficult to evade, he was running closer but he was also gaining more attention from the ballistas who were the only ones able to keep their shots fired at him that could actually pose a threat. However, he would not have to keep up this dodge and fire for long.

[SIZE=10.5pt]A scream of bloodthirsty, and then the Drones poured through a hole that had been torn through the wall. A deep chuckle again, that didn't take too long. He leaned forwards on his Skag and the two darted forwards, lunging towards the hole as he loaded one final bolt firing it at yet another set of armaments before he passed through, reloading. Attention wasn’t focused on him yet, those already inside probably were far too attentive to the Chieftain, for quite obvious reasons, so why not take advantage of that?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]He saw Tathra, holding the axe in the air. Success was all but finished, they had broken through. What left did the enemy have to offer. Zhar looked around quickly, the Skag moving underneath him, they were choosing, preparing. Find a leader, and rip them apart. Another low rumble emerged from the Baedurin as he caught sight of Casba[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]. A broad, metallic, being, an admirable target preparing for battle. He started to move forwards on the Skag raising the Farshot and sending one sheering towards the man,[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] SHIIK [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]a blade whirred into motion splitting the bolt in two either end hurling back behind the man.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Hmm, understood.” He said to himself, Casba had him in his sights now, and was already making his approach, prepared for another attack as the massive Skag riding individual approached. Zhar reloaded and as he did the force sensitive started rushing forwards, presumable to reduce the number of bolts, so then, did Zhar.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]He loaded a bolt into the bow, but then swiftly switched to the Kinetic hammer which he swung, Casba ducked under it easily and turned swinging his blade and cutting deep into the Skag’s tail which growled in pain, Zhar slowed the creature down turning around, he had to think this one through. His target was faster then him and had one of those irritating lightsabers. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Ah, an idea occurred to him, he roared towards the man and rushed forwards yet again, but this time, the Skag halted a few meters before they met, the man clearly preparing to dodge again. Then Zhar flew off the Skag thanks to the inertia bringing himself off the Skag and the weapon down, Casba stepped back, but the repulse generator went off against the ground sending just a bit of the shock both of the hammer and the sheer weight of a being of his size hitting the ground which seemed to shake the ground, and then Zhar swung the weapon up again, the blade came forwards it cut into Zhar’s arms drawing blood and a pained growl, but, the Skag was also still around, and rammed into Casba running him into a wall and backing off. He grunted and started to return to his feet. This was going to be a very difficult battle. And one Zhar felt was fully worthy of his interest.[/SIZE]

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Hundreds of bolts rained on Hrajlmak. A feeble defiance from a pathetic species, he thought. Searing pinpricks beat against his armoured flesh as he tore through small crowds of the ragtag militia, collapsing skulls with one end of his staff and impaling those who found themselves on the other. Yet the only thing that still held his interest were the ballistas and trebuchets. The heavy weaponry was the only real threat and it still had not been dealt with. Feeling frustrated by the surrounding lack of competency, Hrajlmak directed the drones in swathes to attack the large structures. Weak and small, they were no threat. But piling against the towers with collective strength, they would fall given time. And time they had plenty of. Drones seeped into the intricacies of the Trebuchets and beat against their exteriors, slowly ruining them outside and in.

The battlefield was alive with action. Hrajlmak drove his glowing staff into a pair of ragged gunmen like a sinister kabab while a trebuchet collapsed behind him. A cloudy mixture of debris and blood surrounded the area, dimming visibility. The cloudy grey persisted until it was lit up by a dark red. Hrajlmak threw streams of red inferno along the ground, immolating every poor soul caught in its path. He was consumed in his rampage but cautious not to lose sense of those under his command. A repeat of Eshan was not on the agenda.

The debris mist cleared gradually, revealing a field of charred and brutalised corpses. Hrajlmak’s area was all but clear save for the odd amputee clinging desperately to their pitiful existence, only to be devoured by a passing drone. Further away, the battle raged on. A one sided battle. This was quickly becoming evident to the militia who seemed to be on the backend of their morale, yearning for retreat. Trebuchets were collapsing one after the other, ballistas decimated.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]
[member="Zhar Xirces"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The cries of the Savage Drones drowned out the blaster fire, the entrance created by Tathra was widened as Rhivak beasts were delivered to the battlefield, three came barging through the entrance; causing rubble and smoke to fill the courtyard. The six metre tall beasts extended their explosive barrage deeper into the courtyard, funnelling the retreating Lowick forces deeper into the city, unable to compete with the savagery of the Bryn'adûl.

​The Bryn'adûl deeper inside the city now had the aid of Ra'mak War Beasts and Servitors clearing entire streets. Tathra moved to support his troops, not seeing Detlaff among the crates and rubble, he assumed the cyborg had been destroyed. The deeper into the city, the defensive forces of Kra became increasingly desperate and fierce in equal measure.

​Slowly, Tathra pushed to the battlements to secure entry for his troops. The Chieftain cut through a drove of mercenaries as he climbed the small staircase, his Shield rendered his enemies offence futile - flattening their flesh against walls, his Axe carving through their technological protections with ease. It was a slow, grinding push.

​Tathra moved to the balcony at the edge of the southern battlement, the battle raging below as Ra'maks rained fire from above. Ballista shots tore them from the sky, but still the forces of Kra were slowly overwhelmed. Tathra spied the battle below, the frontline were scattered - being repelled by Lowick turrets.

​Tathra leapt down, landing ahead of his troops as he deployed his shield.

​"Rhivak's to me! Steady approach! Focus fire on the turrets!" ​Tathra's strident baritone reverberated against the city walls, surpassing the deafening sounds of battle and reaching his troops. The arrival of the Chieftain flustered the enemy forces, and bolstered the vigour of his own. The sight of the Chieftain drew the turret fire towards him, on the backfoot - the sheer kinetic force of hundreds of bolts caused him to stagger.

​| [member="Hrajlmak'Natok"] | [member="Zhar Xirces"] |​

 

[Mauda]

And again

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Hrajlmak felt relief as Rhivak’s burst through one of the few holes in the Pa’lowick’s pathetic wall. But a relief hardly felt when his raging eyes passed over lingering ballistas and pesky turrets. There was still work to be done. Work almost entirely done by himself. The Chieftain tore through the crowds and quickly arrived at the southern battlement, only to be slowed to an arduous trudge as he worked his way through those that dared defy. If ever there was a time for Hrajlmak to redeem himself of Eshan, it was now.

The rampaging Shaman began a slow walk to the southern battlement, basking in the glory of the frontline. Turrets rained hell on the Chieftain and the remaining ballistas picked Ra’mak beasts out of the sky. He closed his eyes and fell into an orchestration with the Bryn’adul war machine around him. His mind fell on the Rivaks. Their energetic orbs fired crackling energy that decimated the militia that still stood. With a hold of their minds, he seeded them with the image of the Ballistas. Soon, each began to pull away from their aims and turn toward the machines. A cacophony sounded as the organic tanks unleashed upon their new targets, annihilating each of them. Hrajlmak wasted no time admiring destruction. Nothing remained of the militia save for the blaster turrets still pestering the Chieftain. Stood in the middle of the battle, alone, a gutteral Roar echoed from Hrajlmak’s mouth as he pointed toward the turrets, sending swathes of drones at each one they could find.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]
[member="Zhar Xirces"]