Dominion Bryn'adûl | Dominion of Groth

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Six
Objective: A
Tags: N/A

Al-Hadad curled around one of the largest standing buildings in the island-city, crushing it with seemingly little effort as it darted backwards and down, hundreds of black spines tore through the ground and various constructs on the surface of the island as everything was violent torn apart.

All the machinations of man would be destroyed, all in sight; devoured. The great Al-Hadad had no mercy as the massive serpent cut through the island like a knife through cloth.

"Everything they've built, will fall." The Primarch shouted out into the open air, speaking to just himself or perhaps the Servitor as well.

 

[Kad]

Post: Six
Objective: B
Tags - N/A

Now, onto the Generator. The Zealot returned a large portion of the ships power to its two cannons, preparing for the tri-beam to take out the Generator in one hit. The Zealot realigned his vessel, shooting upward into the sky. The Zealot's eyes jumped around the battlefield, looking to all the small battles of ants beneath him.

Part of him didn't like it up here, so far away from the combat. Another part did, watching and musing over the combat below. His mind wondered, is this what the Shamans and Seers felt like? He had a crude envy toward them for their 'gifts' but all the same he enjoyed the killing. Even when he was trapped inside a Shard rather than fighting on the surface.

The Shard shot down through the sky, its two cannons powering up for a moment before combining into one powerful continuous beam that cut into the shield generator. The building ruptured into a small, ionic explosion as the blue shield over head dissipated and eroded. The massive ships of the Bryn'adûl invasion fleet began opening fire on the hangars.

Thousands of massive spikes for their Ballista's were tearing through the Hangars with a merciless brutality. The Zealot smiled at the sight; "Zealot Elite Tenebris here, the Generator has been destroyed." ​

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Seven
Objective: A
Tags: N/A

The massive serpent tunnelling through to the other side of the island, whipping its tail up through the ground and causing a hail of debris to crash around everything in sight. The island broke apart, shards tearing in every direction as dozens of their own ships fled from the slowly breaking island.

Al-Hadad dove through the water, wailing with satisfaction. The alpha of the Servitors called for its brethren to surface, attacking the individual pieces of the broken island and dragging the remains into the depths. The Primarch dropped into a slopped hunch, breathing rapidly.

The strength required to master such a great and beautiful creature was nothing short of immense. Every time he tried, it took such great strength.

One of the Zealots at his side took to helping him stand, but the towering Primarch defensively shrugged him off. He would not look weak. He wielded great instruments and was not some crippled creature in need of assistance.

"Call for our Orkale to return, I would leave this place and see to the removal of Al-Hadad from the waters."

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: B
POST: FOUR
COMRADES IN AREA: NONE CURRENTLY
ENGAGING: Tarad Morko
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE

The blade of Kra'rolk's glaive cut the Jedi's elbow, drawing blood.
​

He momentarily relished the sensation of drawing blood, of bringing pain to those who deserved the wrath of the Byrn. But before he could descend into a full sadistic fit, Kra'rolk noticed one of the Jedi's lightsaber blades swinging diagonally towards his chest. He drew his glaive back to himself in an instant, bringing his glaive towards the path of the blade in an attempt to parry. However, Kra'rolk was not fast enough. While the glaive was able to block the blade and push it back inches away from his flank, the blade had managed to cut a three inch long hole in the right of his chest armor. Kra'rolk felt a sharp pain in his side, and suspected that the blade might have burned away some of his skin.

He let out a roar of pure pain and rage, drowning out the nerves of his aching body with pure adreneline and anger. His arsenal freed, Kra'rolk slid backwards about five meters while simeltaneously attaching his glaive to a belt on his waist, securing it behind him. He drew both of his throwing axes and called on the pond of the Force within him. Reaching to within his spiritual core, Kra'rolk drew the flow of spiritual energy away from his glaive, his body warming up as it re-entered him. Then, he redirected the energy flow once again, putting a large portion of it into each of his throwing axes. In an instant they began to glow light green, a similar color to what his glaive had been imbued with moments prior.

Then, Kra'rolk tossed both axes at a velocity approaching sixty kilometers an hour, one following the other by less than a meter. The first axe was aimed directly at the Jedi's head, intended to divert its attention. The second was aimed for the being's right leg. With its right elbow cut, its response might be just slow enough to guarantee the axe's successful landing.

 

[Kad]

Post: Seven
Objective: B
Tags - N/A

When the Shield Generator was destroyed, the Conquester ships in the sky had until now been unable to lend aid to their fellow Bryn'adûl on the ground. But now, thanks to the efforts of Gredak - they could. The blue shield evaporated and the orbital bombardment from the Conquesters had begun in full. Their massive ballista's opened fire, tearing through the Island buildings and their hangar bays.

From his viewport, the Zealot could see the carnage below as their own forces were pulled out and the Military defences were crushed, their hangars tore to pieces by massive Ballsita bolts, their attempts to escape shot down as those who had once hid within the safety of the hangar bays now attempted to make their escape.

"Mission successful, returning to Conquester Curator of Will now."

 

[Tarad Morko]

Objective: Escape!
Post: Six
Engage: Krarolk T'manu

It seemed the battle both on the ground and in the air was growing more dire. The island shook, great waves of water climbing in the distance as dozens of other islands were sunk by primordial creatures. His bottom right arm clicked a small dial on his upper arms gauntlet, calling in his ship.

As if the madness of combat was not enough, he was also receiving stray fire from a conflict closer to the hangar, on top of that his opponent seemed to be carrying huge throwing-axes. Tarad dedicated one of his sabers to deflecting the stray blaster fire as one of his arms halted the first thrown Axe as his second saber smacked the other aside.

Tarad might've been old, rusty even but his age didn't mean he'd slow from a gaze. Before the Zealot could push forward, the Jedi's ship arrived - its landing strip opening in the air as it suspended in the air. Tarad darted left, deactivating both of his lightsabers as he threw a powerful force push in the direction of the Zealot before leaping upward into the sky and landing on the pad.

"We need to leave, now!"

Before the Besalisk had even made it inside his ship fully, the small Jedi transport shot off toward the sky. Tarad fell on his back, exhausted from the short but draining exchange.

 

[Primal Architect]

Bryn'adûl Victory!
​

The forces of the Bryn'adûl begin a steady departure from the many islands of Groth. Millions lay dead, and others are buried in the vastness of the ocean as entire islands are swallowed by the vast blues. Other islands have been left defenceless without their Shields, and orbital bombardment from Conquester Ballista's have eviscerated countless vessels in their assault of the many Hangar bays.

Beneath the water, all that remains of the droid forces is shrapnel. An offensive lead by the Servitor Al-Hadad has crushed their defences, leaving the remaining island defences at the mercy of the Servitors spread across the planets watery surface.

In hour, Groth will grow quiet as what it once was will be forever changed.