Bryn'adûl | Dominion of Kesh

[Bazh'Thu]

Objective: A - Find and Destroy the Sith Fortress.
Post: One.
Allies: Primarch Drek'ma I Kad .
Enemies: Jend-Ro Quill I Ryv I Loske Treicolt .

The Shaman Beast Master settled down quietly upon the fertile soil within the deeper regions of the tranquil, yet enigmatic jungles of Kesh, laying his Malabast mace upon its lush vegetation of the planet. His natural bone armour plates shrouded his colossal hardened body, while his armour mail slid beneath.. Bazh'Thu, sitting in pure silence, came to slowly shut his azure eyes, and induced himself into a deep state of meditation. Through the trance, he delved into the presence of the physical embodiment of cosmic energy that dwelt in the lush woodlands. Around his body, Bazh'Thu felt the ever-lasting Lust of men for supremacy and renown, their Greed to conquer and pillage the innocent off their own goods and holdings, and the Suffering in which they yearn upon their enemies. Marked with violence, he felt the same sentiments as the souls of the Dark that haunted the lands. Throughout his entire existence, Bazh'Thu devoted himself into only one mission - to fulfill the triumph of the Crusade. His principles on the true reality are mostly centered on the idea that as long as Weakness is not completely extinguished in the known world, he does not rest.

Collecting his inner thoughts, Bazh'Thu eventually realized that the Force potential that resided within the verdant regions was indeed remarkable. Earlier, before the eventual descent of the Bryn'adûl upon the dense forests, the Shamans accompanying the warpath of the Crusade were given initial reports regarding a possible prospect for a Force locus deep within Kesh, caused by the planet's rich, yet dark history under the hands of its former settlers, the Sith-heathen. In the mission reports sent to boost the war efforts of the Bryn'adûl, the Shamans were also briefed that the fortresses of old housed the measly headquarters of the weakly Deep Space Coalition, concealing within the fortresses' walls with nothing but terror in their bodies and soul. Yet deep within the jungles of Kesh, a newly-arrived challenger awaits in the physical form of an mysterious mature-aged man. Bazh'Thu immediately reckoned to himself that the mystical figure was a champion of the Light, and therefore, a Jedi-heathen.

Shortly after his spiritual experience with the cosmic energy, Bazh'Thu awakened himself out of the trance. His once-pale and cavernous eyes opened hastily, revealing an azure flame that glistened even at the light of day. The Beast Master's hardened flesh released fumes of white smoke from within his metallic-blue carapace. The unnatural heavy mist emanating from Bazh'Thu's body metastasized upon the woodlands, steadily increasing over time. Bazh'Thu's skeletal hands reached out for his staff, retrieving it from the forest floor. The Shaman Beast Master rose unto his feet, with staff in hand, as the weapon pierced into the fertile soil beneath his feet.

" Now, let the unclean lands be purified from endless sin.
The souls of frail men be eternally damned. "​

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

The Primarch growled, infuriated - ceasing his attack on the older Jedi. The frustrated Shaman turned to them once more; raising a force barrier to protect himself from the continued barrage as Gredak killed two before turning his attention to the new arrival. The Shaman outstretched his hand, inflicting those that remained with a deadly sickness - making their blood boil, hand shaking with some slight strain. The screaming of the fallen rebels was soothing.

Engaging: Primarch Drek'ma
Nearby: Kad vs Ryv ; Bazh'Thu ; Loske Treicolt

Quill gasped in relief as the Force Drain broke off. The Force flowed through him, rejuvenating him, but that hadn't been a pleasant experience. He felt some guild about counting himself lucky that the Drael shaman was focusing on the local rebels. On the plus side, the shaman had used a titanic amount of power. Teleportation, mind control, Force drain, shields, and now whatever technique he was using to kill the rebels. All power had a price. The Force was infinite; even a Master's powers weren't.

By contrast, Quill hadn't yet used the Force for much other than to counteract the mind control and resist the drain. Now might be his best opportunity to use the Force to end this. He took a deep breath and stilled his nerves as much as he could.

Light flared from his hand, illuminating the Drael shaman. If Quill could weaken him and dampen his abilities, this might become a different kind of contest.

 

[Weyland Castril]

OBJECTIVE B - Assist the Guerilla Fighters
Post: Two
Tags: Osam [I am] Hraelga Nacht | Rocho |

Weyland had overplayed his hand, maybe a bit. When he landed on the other side, one of the Brutes brought his Glaive to bear; hacking and slashing at the defence of the Jedi as he cartwheeled back, avoiding the strikes as best he could as the massive creature moved in close whilst the others seemingly decimated the Coalition troops as they made their way out of the tunnel. Luckily, another group - some snipers were joining in from the left. The Glaive wielding Brute held the weapon in a two handed grip, swinging upward with the lower half of the weapon.

Weyland disengaged his blade, ducking it under the blade of the Glaive and pushing it upward from the right as he side-stepped with an inside right-guard, switching to the left as to slash at its arm, instead the Brute brought the upper length of the Glaive low; crossing its left arm over the right to catch the Jedi's blade with impressive speed. Weyland knew it was going to throw him back, using its momentum to allow him to pirouette back into a guarded position, his lightsaber hanging left at an angle over his head. The Brute striked again, and Weyland dodged to the side and slashed its arm - but the giant Brute responded by thrusting its elbow into Weyland, knocking him down to the ground.

Before he could rise to his feet, several spike rounds were fired at him by a Drone, Osam. Weyland rolled to dodge a few and slashed two with his lightsaber from an overhead angle to push the molten splash to the ground however the final spike cut through his left arm - Weyland groaned in agony as the wounded Brute picked him up by his hood, aiming to thrust the Glaive into his chest when Weyland switched his saber into a reverse-griped flourish, cutting off the Brutes arm at the wrist.

 

[Hraelga Nacht]

Objective B: Wipe out the Guerilla fighters
Location: Jungle trees
Equipment: [X] [X]
Tag: Osam | Rocho

The jungle had instantly turned into a warzone and not a single part of it was getting any relief, not with drones focusing on swarming the entire forest floor below, brutes concentrating attacks on fortified positions and Hraelga and her zealots deciding to use their training to scale the trees and survey the canopy. Earlier, someone had already been shooting at some of the dropzone's rhivaks and even the sentinels, the fact that the shots came from the trees was the sole reason for her to goand use a multilayered strategy like this, even though usually she just relied on the Bryn'adûl's sheer power and overwhelming numbers, Hraelga was already fairly certain who was making those shots.

Just as they were traversing the trees, again she heard the whizzing noise of shots passing her by, the sound of a rifle going off was easily heard several times, so she used the timing she had gotten from hearing the shot earlier and the incoming bullet to fine tune her senses and allow herself to make great use of the jungle canopy, her legs allowing her to propell herself much faster and much easier than any of her more bulky subordinates.

"Sniff him out Rhaga...lead your brothers to him," Trying to pinpoint a sniper was usually rather easy, but with the canopy covering them, it was also pretty hard to fully grasp where the shots were coming from, so relying on the sense of smell of her Hellhas mingled in with the massive swarm of drones was something in her favor. Alas, there were still casualties, as at least two of her zealots either got blown up instantly or were hit so hard that they fell to their death below. This was war, so time for paying respects or aiding fallen comrades was not there in the present. With yet another of her zealots being shot just a few meters away from her, the marauder now knew the aim of this sniper and if she could grin, she would do so with glee. "Go north by north-east, do not engage until I say so."

Deciding she was close enough, Hraelga started off with a volley of shots from her spikers towards the direction she perceived the last shot to have originated from, before yet again using her spindly legs to propel her a few trees into a different direction, hoping to bait the sniper into betraying his location by firing ather earlier locations.

 

[Kad]

Objective A: Find and destroy the Sith Fortress
Post: Five
Tags: Primal Architect | Ryv | Jend-Ro Quill | Loske Treicolt |
Gear: Kukri x2 | Kasurigama x2 | Special Operations Armour | Radesh Shredder | Spike Rifle | Ammo |

The Zealot's rifle shots tracked the movement of the Jedi as he darted left, right and back and forth. His comments were little more than an irritant, mind games were nothing new. In the bedla'korum, worse had been said and done to the Zealot Elite than petty little words. Still, he found the charisma irritating. Gredak emptied his magazine, motioning to reach for his sidearm as he backed up a few steps.

The Zealots eyes grew wide with surprise as the small piece of rock came hurdling towards him, too fast to dodge - he winced before it even hit, gritting his teeth as the wind was partially knocked out of him, cursing his trigger happy attitude.

"Cuagh..!"

The Zealot was knocked back a little, but still conscious - he crawled back to his feet as the Jedi drew closer, putting the rifle between himself and the Jedi as he slashed at it, with his left hand - Gredak took the Shredder from his thigh, rapidly firing a series of crystalline bolts at the Jedi's lower torso as he cut the Spike rifle in half.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

OBJECTIVE A - Find and destroy the Sith Fortress
Tags - Jend-Ro Quill | Kad | Ryv | Loske Treicolt
Post: 5
Theme: x

As the soldiers grew terribly ill, their skin grew new deformities, blisters and failing organs as poisonous force energy stirred in their blood. The twisted plague was forced upon them by the will of the Primarch. But all was halted, his thoughts were halted - even for a brief moment that was a danger as the Jedi pursued him with the element of light, a bright and powerful ability that reigned from the light.

Supposedly used against those who reigned from the dark, though the Shaman did not - not entirely. The Draelvasier taught the force in its entirety, they were not held down by the foolish dogma's nor perspectives of this Galaxies inhabitants. Yet, the light still scorned him - the darkness inhabiting this place and his current abilities cost him, it stung. But the Cuirass of the Shaman and his Staff both assisted in his use of the force, and his resistance to it.

Drek'ma gargled a curse in Draelvasier, raising his hand to block the light from his vision; summoning tutanimis to his raised palm to deflect his opponents offence. With his free arm, he brought his Staff forward, firing off a singular stray blast of life-draining energy at the Jedi once again. It wasn't powerful enough to cause any damage, but rather to force him to desist.

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

Primarch Drek'ma

Quill's focus shifted, and the Force Light radiating from his empty hand caught the beam of Force Drain rather than its creator. The Dark Side power - the quintessential one, some said - withered to nothing, just shreds of shadow compared to the clean light eroding it. The Drael shaman had succeeded in breaking off Quill's attack, though; that much was clear.

He'd tangled with Drael up close before and had no desire to do it again. Instead he kept at least some range and focused on the medallion he'd pulled out, a kyberite confessional talisman. A subtle glow centred on the amulet, a remnant of the Force Light he'd just used. The goal here was to awaken the Drael's conscience, weaken his resolve, plague him with guilt, and just make him feel bad about himself in general. Armor and bulk couldn't protect against your conscience suddenly discovering its own existence.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: B
Post: 1
Forces: 50 Drones

_____________________________

Seen from the sky, the battleground was a sea of luscious green. And a growing hellscape of relentless inferno. The indistinct wall between the two worlds often penetrated by streams of fire, spewed forth from the Bryn'adul incinerators, adding blood flow to the Kesh Inferno. Below the canopy, Hrajlmak strode forward bowling orbs of blazing red into the shrubbery. the hell behind him followed close, almost biting at his cloak-tails. Six unwavering eyes spied the treeline for coalition forces. Leaves and branches rained down while Drones swung between them. All the while, the hell behind them only grew.

A noise. A repulsive sound. A ship passed low overhead. Hrajlmak took his eyes off the trees to look up and watch the shuttle continue past the small group. It began to slow down just as it passed out of sight, blocked by the canopy. An itch inside grew. A familiar itch. Promptly the Drones responded to the Shaman's unspoken word. They rushed ahead while Hrajlmak entered a crouch and began a slow jog toward the landing site. The drones had disappeared from view, dispersing into the surrounding greenery. Towards the ships cockpit, nestled into the shrubbery, Hrajlmak lay prone. Overhead engines trumped any noises they may have made.

Jedi

They were becoming increasingly involved. Hrajlmak's most respected foe thus far were appearing at his blade-end more and more as the Great Conquest continued at pace. Of course they would. And it excited him. Sticks and mud crumpled under the gentle feet of a landing female Jedi. Then another. Gradually a group of them were birthed from the shuttle. It peeled off into the sky and the Drael party remained motionless. They would move when Hrajlmak thought it. His claws curled into the dirt as he waited. One quickly left and headed in the direction of Primarch Drek'ma. They waited. When it became apparent no more were moving and the group was established, the Shaman made his move.

Hrajlmak's entire body flexed in one motion. Buried claws pushed off the dirt with force to crush a skull. The near 8ft Aeravalin leaped into the air, bellowed a roar and swung a fire-ball straight into the middle of the group as he landed just short of a young, petrified Jedi. In the same moment, Drones spilled in from every direction. Bursting from the bushes, from beneath the ground and dropping out of the trees. Around them, hell, in the middle, war.

Loske Treicolt / Hraelga Nacht​

 

[Fomoris]

Objective A
Post One
Nearby: Bazh'Thu

With a massive grunt, Fomoris hurled himself off of the thick branch he had been perched upon, the sound of the wood cracking in protest splitting the air as the Brute soared through the brief gap between the trees to land heavily within the embrace of another tree, huge arms wrapping around it and his claws embedded deeply to secure him. While many of the other Brute units had marched towards the various skirmishes taking place within the jungle’s confines or towards the distant temples, Fomoris had instead chosen to break away from the ranks of the 10[SUP]th[/SUP] for the time being to take some time in practicing his fieldwork.

Looking down, his tusked maw broke out into a grin as he admired the bloodied skulls that hung from his belt, torn straight from their owners bodies before they had even been aware of his presence, stalking them slowly through the green inferno of trees and leaves. This was his preferred method of hunting, while the Baedurin were adept at charging into the meat grinder of entrenched warfare and incoming fire, Fomoris felt the primal fire of a predator within his breast and often found himself favouring instinct over tactics, hunting patterns over force disposition and here was a chance for him to not only follow this desire but to revel in it.

A buzzing feeling behind the back of his eyes began, pressure slowly mounting before disappearing again, a familiar feeling. Crouching, apelike within the tree, he looked around for the source, growling softly as he found it. Stalking, reaper-like through the forest with unnatural grace was Bazh’Thu, the beastmaster that he had fought alongside upon Kubindi. Since that engagement, the feral tendencies that Fomoris had exhibited had been even further pronounced. His senses had felt sharper and his reflexes heightened but most of all, the rages that he had previously been prone to had become a constant pressure he had tried to fight against, doing his best to create a bulwark of discipline and focus to hold back from succumbing to the red haze that even now was tinging his vision.

Turning his head in curiosity briefly, the Brute leapt to another tree, shadowing the path of the Shaman.

 

[Ryv]

Ryv pulled his blade back and began to backpedal as Gredak leveled his secondary weapon on him. Thinking quickly, the kiffar raised a hand and focused his attention on the monster before him. As Gredak pulled the trigger, Ryv gripped him with the force and put a momentary stasis on his foe while beginning to sidestep. Unfortunately, one of the needle-like shots surged fourth and cut through the armorweave that afforded him minor amounts of protection. It sliced through and tore a bloody streak across his side before embedding into the tree behind him. Warnings danced across his senses as the force propelled him forward and the three other shots made contact bedside the first instead. On queue, the four individual shots combined together into an explosion that through the base of the tree. Ryv hit the ground from the concussive force and rolled behind another nearby tree as the first slowly fell to the forest floor.

Not slowing, Ryv pressed his back against his latest amount of cover and pulled himself to his feet. His off hand moved to stem the flow of blood rolling down side as it stained his hip. Fires from the invading force's flamethrowers began to spread outwards all around them. Both smoke and the canopy blocked the sky above, leaving Ryv with fewer options with each passing second. He took a deep breath before stepping from behind the cover. His lightsaber flashed from left to right to deflect the incoming storm of blaster fire from the now turned coalition forces into Gredak. Most of the shots flew wide, but some managed to fly true, in his opponent's direction. Ryv began the process of backpedaling away from the attacking forces. Soon enough, he found himself in ear shot of Master Quill.

"Hey uh, Master Quill!" Ryv called out to the older Jedi, his voice barely above a whisper in comparison to the sound of war around them. "I think we're outnumbered! We might want to retreat to the evac coordinates!"

 

[Kad]

Objective A: Find and destroy the Sith Fortress
Post: Six
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma | Ryv | Jend-Ro Quill | Loske Treicolt |
Gear: Kukri x2 | Kasurigama x2 | Special Operations Armour | Radesh Shredder | Spike Rifle | Ammo |

Not so full of playful remarks now, are we?

The Zealot laughed, snarling with a deep feeling of satisfaction as the Jedi back-pedalled, seemingly retreating with great worry painted over his face. Even as the Jedi and Coalition fought hard, the Bryn'adûl forces had turned the jungle into a blaze - the darkside aura of the planet was weakening and the camouflage of the Fortress equally fading.

"Run jedi! Run! You only prolong the inevitable!" Galak cackled, ducking under the fallen tree away from the reflected blaster bolts as he now turned his Shredder on the old Jedi Quill, firing off a dozen crystalline needles toward his back.

The Jedi would retreat, and Kesh would fall. Reinforcements were abound, a company of Brutes adorned with Rhivaks bustled onto the scene - opening fire on the translucent fortress. Gredak snarled, firing off stray shots at the running rebels.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

OBJECTIVE A - Find and destroy the Sith Fortress
Tags - Jend-Ro Quill
Post: 6
Theme: x

When both's offensives halted, there was a lull where the old Jedi and Primarch shared a gaze. The Primarch moved to strike with his staff again, but the amulet brought force caused a strange surge in his system, a deafening melancholy. The Shaman Primarch snarled fiendishly, he did not experience guilt for his actions nor perhaps any regret for his beliefs. His beliefs dictated his moral compass, and thusly the result was strange.

The Primarch was overcome with self-loathing for a few moments, eyes turning to the Medallion as the Primarch roared defiantly - in a panic he teleported closer to the Zealot, stumbling due to the strain the force-based quarrel had wrought. Though unfortunate for Quil, his vigour was rejuvenated by the sight of the blaze, the entire jungle was alit and the Fortress now under heavy attack.

In the sky, Ra'maks began to open fire on the newly made fields, trees were burnt down and left the Coalitions remaining forces exposed - the massive beasts attacked with their cannons, opening fire on the enemy with their capital cannons. The Primarch directed the arriving Drones to fire at Quil, he would either run or die.

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

Primarch Drek'ma

Faced with the choice to run or die, Quill hesitated. As the first shots rained down, he tucked away his talisman and saber, and checked over the half dozen rebels. By weapons or by the Dark Side, every one of them was dead. Only once he'd verified that, he took off into the dense jungle.

This site was lost. The Drael would overrun the temple in under an hour, at a guess. If he hurried, he might be able to jump on an evacuation vehicle, catch a ride offworld or to one of Kesh's embattled cities. He had the nagging suspicion that Kesh wasn't done with him yet.

 

[Bazh'Thu]

Objective: A - Find and Destroy the Sith Fortress.
Post: Two.
Allies: Primarch Drek'ma I Kad I Fomoris .
Enemies: Jend-Ro Quill I Ryv I Loske Treicolt .

Bazh'Thu persevered in a glorious hunt on the lush wood land scapes along with the same contingent of Brutes that fought alongside him in the scorching world of Kubindi. The Beast Master's blood-sporting was reminiscent to an un-fed mountain lion searching for its prey at the morning's dawn, as he held his Malabast staff sitting within his two hands, The distant calls of the wind whistled through his every footstep, as the grounds of the Earth shook at its every core. The wild-life around the Beast Master scurried away in horror as the jungles were veiled in thick white fog that the Master himself produced, unnaturally amassing over the once-lush regions as time goes on. Bazh'Thu's thoughts immediately thought into the life that breathed on the planet's surface, and their true purpose. Surely, they seem peaceful, but deep inside Bazh'Thu's thoughts, they needed true subjugation. His urge to perish Weakness was perpetually ingrained in his soul, despite the incorrupt and good-hearted nature of the objects he had encountered throughout his journey. Over the course of his mere existence, the Beast Master was only taught the singularity of harmonious Death, to the chaotic world that is Life. For the weak to be cleansed of their sins, they needed to receive the proceedings of an eternal punishment that is harmony. But, at the end of the day and night, the enemies that stand in the Crusade's warpath are first to receive such glorious retribution.

Beneath the fertile ground of Kesh laid the foundations of a fallen empire. Even before the Bryn'adûl's arrival to these arboreous lands, the world had experienced great suffering and pain from its previous inhabitants. Bazh'Thu detected the pungent smell that came from within the Earth's rich soil. The lasting scent emanating from within the ground that laid the corpses of many Men who died long before the Bryn'adûl's descent upon the planet. The undying perfume of harmonious Death that initially came from their inglorious desire to dominate, and so now they rest. The Deep Space Coalition shall endure the similar deliverance.

With Malabast staff in hand, Bazh'Thu pounded his armour chest-plate and bellowed with all due might, sending a strong gust from the mountain-top to down below the deeper portions of the jungle. The once-natural crystals of ice that suspended in the dead air were suddenly drawn to his physical presence, and were compacted into pale clouds of smoke. As the Beast Master halted his howl, only pure silence dwelt within the forests.

" Slight audio interference. Backing up the communicators, over. "
" Private Callistan, check the perimeter. Search for the source of the sound., over. "
" 10-4, copy that. I'm on my way. "​

Suddenly, at the aftermath of the silence, muffled voices filled the air. From within the lush jungle, a meagre platoon of Coalition infantry-men, donning their viridescent combat armour, emerged from their concealment positions with due haste. Shrouded with ghillie garments, the guerrillas were surely prepared in employing devious strategies against the incoming horde. Unbeknownst to them, they were nothing but foolish Men, as they had just exposed their cover from enemy sight. Just as the thick fog rolled down from the mountain range, Bazh'Thu's gargantuan silhouette emerged behind the position of a lone infantry-man without notice. The unsuspecting prey was grabbed by his nape by the Aeravalin's towering figure, and was forced to turn and know the true nature of his predator. Unable to scream for help from raw panic, the soldier faced Bazh'Thu helplessly.

" Greetings, mere mortal.
Do not fret for your life, for you shall receive harmony.
Now, begone from this world. "
The Beast Master detached the soldier's collar-bone from the body with no remorse, as bits of flesh fall from the remains.​

 

[Fomoris]

Objective A
Post Two
Nearby: Bazh'Thu


One of the most relaxing things that Fomoris found was a repetitive exercise, to feel the muscles of his monstrous frame be put to use, to pursue a purpose or point with a single-minded determination and focus, it was things like this that the Baedurin sought when he needed to relieve the pounding frustration that can accompany a lifetime of slaughter and death.

It was such a case now, leap, catch, pause, leap, catch, pause. Staring down below, the Brute came across a small firefight, a group of his fellow Brutes pinned behind a collection of mossy boulders, three Brute Corpses and the CRACK of sniper fire providing all the information that Fomoris needed to understand what was happening. Scrambling higher, Fomoris risked the thinner branches, curling his lip in frustration as he felt them begin to bend under his immense weight.

With his glaive, his swung upwards, carving a hole in the arboreal roof, allowing a strong ray of sunlight into the glade below.

Relaxing his hand, he allowed gravity to take hold as he dropped to the loamy earth beneath, just in time to avoid the responding whipcrack of fire as the hidden marksman responded to the environmental change with a high-calibre round, damp bark and wood flying through the air as a hole bore straight through it. Watching, Fomoris landed with a heavy thud, one arm down to balance himself while the other was cocked back, his glaive held read.

A bright glint of sunlight reflecting off glass shone from a nearby tree, the newly lit up glade causing the sniper to need to displace. Flying through the air, the glaive impaled the human to a tree nearby, the kinetic force alone enough to pulp his innards, the blade merely overkill. Striding passed the Brutes, he grasped the hilt of the spear, kicking the corpse off it as he drew the blade free from the tree it was embedded in.

Nodding his head and gesturing with his glaive, he set off with the squad, following in support of the shaman.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective B - Assist the Guerilla Fighters
Friends nearby: Ryv / Jend-Ro Quill / NPC Guerilla Fighters
Bad guys nearby: Kad / Primarch Drek'ma
Actively engaging: Hrajlmak'Natok
Location: Hot Hot, too hot, Zone
Tunes provided by DJ Frank of S.S. Blue​

This went south pretty quickly. Ryv was darting ahead and Loske kept pace, up to the point where he diverted and took the attention and fire from Kad . She'd felt a warning tingle at the nape of her neck to also dive-roll out of the way, quickly transferring herself back up to a standing position. The soldiers around them rallied, feeling bolstered by the new arrivals. Youth tended to bring hope. Being obvious Jedi helped. Both Ryv and Loske did little to hide the lightsabers on their persons.

"We can't see anything!" The guerilla soldiers complained loudly, firing aimlessly into the foray ahead. Smoke consumed their shots, streaks of plasma dissipating into the curls of misty nothingness. Whether or not their firing were successful were beyond them. The effectiveness of Bazh'Thu 's ministrations was inarguable. Light eyes flitted about the area, assessing the damages. Ryv was busy now. There was a swell of The Force not too far off, a contest of light and dark. Usually, in battle-like situations, the Force seemed to fall silent -- not to desert her, but to become no more than an instinct or alarm when needed. This time, however, Loske found herself connecting to everything around her, as though she were in a meditative trance while on the move, feet treading against druxy, moss-laden ground in rhythm with the pounding of the soldiers on the run. The Force was active here, sustaining life, screaming in anguish as it was extinguished, and boasting its glory at the hands of supernatural wielders.

"I..I know how to fix this.." Loske murmured under her breath at the realization, more to herself than the fellows around her who desperately needed some good news. The smoke and fire that consumed the world around them were vapour manifestations of The Force. Molecules that were working at incomprehensible speeds to alter the chemistry of what they touched, turning it to smoulder or increasing the density so air turned into near-opaque veils. She came to a halt while the forces of soldiers surrounded her, stretching herself into the Force. Infantismile. She had to get small enough to rearrange the molecules that were obscuring the sight of the good guys and..oh...wait. Oh no.

Suddenly! Despair and dread gave way to an alarm. Loske's eyes snapped open while the incredibly mass of Hrajlmak'Natok lunged and she retreated from the metaphysical attempt that took far too much concentration from the little Padawan to be of any use in a scene this hectic. Instead, a reactive manifestation of translucent protection bubbled over herself and the soldiers in her immediate proximity. Fire blossomed on connection against the Force barrier, dissipating and erratically skittering over the projection in search of the ground or flesh. She maintained the barrier with raised arms. Primal fear displayed on her face at the recognition of the too-near-to-be-comfortable Aeravalain. It was h u g e. Bigger than anything she'd ever rivalled! How did that happen?! Did it come from an egg? How big were its parents? Her attention was fixated on the creature, while the soldiers around her erupted in surprised shrieks at the arrival of the drones.

Her chest clenched with her fists, and her muscles tightened before releasing her grip on her metaphysical shield. The telekinetic protection rolling out in a powerful burst that clattered against some of the hovering drones and perhaps against the beast that had appeared from the mystical mists.

The soldiers, able to fixate on the targets of the drones, levelled randomized shots at the levitating enemy that had appeared from out of seemingly nowhere. Meanwhile, Loske realized a telekinetic blast as an after-thought to a shield wasn't going to be enough to stall the intentions of the monster. It'd maybe feel like a tinker of stones against its flesh.

The horned shark face was horrifyingly near to her, and she lunged forward at it. Only to use the forehead as a kickstand. Leaping upward and augmenting her acrobatics so when her sole met the forehead she could get a high enough jump into the air to slice at a pair of drones that were hovering near their mental master. A blade as golden as her heart activated in time to cut through their scientific majesty.

Meanwhile, Frank had found somewhere safe to land. 54.5207° N, 7.7211° W was sent through to Ryv and Loske, respectively.

 

[Rocho]

Location: Hiding in a tree
Objective: B
Allies: Kesh
Enemies: The Byrn'adul, Hraelga Nacht

His shots were hitting their mark, but the enemy kept approaching. There was relatively little difficulty in that matter, they were big targets and the firearms carried with them an incredible impact. However he had to keep his awareness open to invading threats, as the enemy grew closer, there was always the risk that someone else was drawing close faster than they were. Many time, when hunting the bigger prey, smaller ones would become fearful of the noise and attempt to kill him. It was a similar case here, as Hraelga Nacht sent her Hounds on a hunt after him. He had no reason to know they were hers, but it didn't matter. They were clearly forerunners or trackers, and either way, they could not be permitted to last much longer. Rocho was well aware his position would be discovered. He didn't care too much however, it would be found out one way or another so he might as well just exterminate as many creatures as necessary. A considerable battle was still going on nearby, between even other force sensitives and these creatures that came for this planet.

However, they were not his focus currently. His focus was those dogs, he aimed the weapon, the explosive round loaded. Using the force to guide his aim carefully to where the target should be. An entire life of hunting through experience, training, and the aid of force sensitivity, granting him an uncanny aim through the dense leaves and limbs. He breathed in again, and let lose a shot at the creature in the front, as they approached. Always take out the leaders when it came to animals like this, they became either frightened or disorganized amongst themselves usually due to inferior intelligence, also it was convenient as their size meant it was quite likely they'd either trip, or be forced to leap over them making the hounds even more obvious to everyone else in the area. He also recognized another presence nearby, that of Osam , however he was engaged with another already. And Rocho believed it necessary to destroy the one he was already after and prevent that one from engaging a target of their own choosing if possible. He was already reloading, naturally, and was quite sure he had a chance for another shot before such a possibility would be more of a disadvantage then an advantage.

This time loading an armor piercing round. It should be sufficient for the enemy. It had killed others before, and he'd undoubtedly run out of explosive rounds if he over-used them. He aimed it, taking as much care with this shot as he could even though he knew it was a hurry. And he fired that as well, he did not wait for her or her group to catch up with him. Instead he slung the weapon around a branch immediately switching to a heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun in his right hand as his left brought out The Beast. Aiming the shotgun and quickly sending off the two large rounds towards the oncoming group before holstering the weapon swiftly and preparing himself for them. Bolstering his body and senses through the focus of the force.


heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle (extra ammunition in a bag, 12.7mmx108mm Slugs (Armor-Piercing,Incendiary and Explosive)
heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest (Can be strapped to back, extra thermal detonators on straps still available.)
heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun-dbs (armed with slug shot can be holstered at his right side. Extra ammunition on belt and legs.)
t-7-vibro-brace (left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet ( right arm)
Hekler'Kok LA-2 Light Armor (Isn't wearing shoes, helmet, or gloves.)
The Beast: (worn on his left.)

 

[Hraelga Nacht]

Objective B: Wipe out the Guerilla fighters
Location: Jungle trees
Equipment: [X] [X]
Tag: Osam | Rocho

While the drones in the Bryn'adûl crusade were to be considered the feral, lower class among the ranks, they had proven their use by being of usually more limber and agile stock than for instance most baedurin in the Brute and Zealot ranks, particularly the Saelvurin which using their lithe frames were particularly deadly in such enclosed places as this jungle, but even they paled in comparison to the Hellhas hunter drones employed by Marauder Hraelga Nacht, something which the Trandoshian would be noticing with his own eyes after all. As the shots were fired, the hunting pack, aided by their neural link with Hraelga managed to evade being hit by slipping into the ever going stream of drones swarming the forest floor, attacking everything in sight.

While the males were austentiously visible from quite a distance due to their red bulges atop their shoulders though, the larger, more powerful female was not that visible, due in part because of the fact she did not have those visible traits.

"I see, follow his scent Rhaga, do not climb up until I say so," The marauder was annoyed, as she had waited for a response, nothing happened. That Trandoshian was a sly and skilled warrior, he wasn't an easy target, even for the likes of her, a marauder in the glorious Bryn'adûl crusade. She had to be patient though and luckily it seemed to pay off, as another shot managed to clear through the trees near her vicinity again, however this was closer and the shot was different, of a wider more short range variety. One of the zealots near her got blasted in the chest, pelted by slugs and thrown to the ground below, but Hraelga remained silent, motioning two zealots to move forward towards the location the shot came from, while she would try to get lower, a distraction was after all something she needed right now.

 

[Rocho]

Location: A tree
Objective: B
Allies: Kesh
Enemies: The Byrn'adul, Hraelga Nacht

Fast little critters weren't they. He chuckled to himself, removing several thermal detonators from him, activating them but on a very short timer. He could sense Hraelga Nacht approaching fast, "Let's see how you deal with a six meter blast radius." he muttered quietly, using the force to throw all of them lightly into the air and then force push them out, but in a spread, towards the enemies after he ensured there weren't anyone near their specific area. One advantage of Thermal Detonators, or disadvantage depending on the situation. They only destroyed exactly what was in the radius, but they would almost always destroy it completely. He had set them on a short timer on purpose, especially when it came to force users, there was a habit that a select few could try and throw it back. But unlike some grenades, they wouldn't detonate if shot at, meaning his only risk was them being sent back at him.

He had no reason to hide his position anymore, in fact, he wanted them to come for him. Better him then these people, weaker soldiers. He'd stand a better chance. He took in a breath and let out a roar before holding both hands out, then clenching them and yanking them towards himself as he attempted a force pull on The Hounds and any Byrn'adul even remotely close. However unlike last time where Hraelga was open to try and move with the pull, there were a number of tree limbs in the way. And the moment after he did the pull he dropped another thermal detonator in his position and leapt out of the way, swinging and plunging through the tree limbs as he went to escape the inevitable destruction of the weapon left behind.

The Zealots she sent would find waiting for them the destruction of a thermal detonator, soon followed by Rocho switching to the heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest and launching another into anything that might have managed to evade it.

heklerkok-amr-1-anti-materiel-rifle (extra ammunition in a bag, 12.7mmx108mm Slugs (Armor-Piercing,Incendiary and Explosive)
heklerkok-tdl-1-tempest (Can be strapped to back, extra thermal detonators on straps still available.)
heklerkok-double-barrel-shotgun-dbs (armed with slug shot can be holstered at his right side. Extra ammunition on belt and legs.)
t-7-vibro-brace (left arm.)
g-11-shield-gauntlet ( right arm)
Hekler'Kok LA-2 Light Armor (Isn't wearing shoes, helmet, or gloves.)
The Beast: (worn on his left.)