Faction BXP | Communion at Draed-Muinne

[Berok]

Tag: Mazoga | Tathra Khaeus | Maulis | Kathrok | Ostak Cl'mana | Sethrak | Ethrok | Sylok'Vanari | Gordrak

Not a step further, spread out across this ridge.

The moment was important. To establish who would lead, and that to him was everything. Watching opposing the other Ultra's he still didn't move for a weapon because he had been commanded not to. Spreading out across the ridge, the giant took a position against a large rocky outcrop.

Others said the same among their forces to wait. Using barriers, or bringing them to stand fast. So it was his duty to watch, two giants about to find out what was real and what was in their minds only. Never having seen his commander in action he was eager to learn why he had the name Titan.

While an engineer wasn't the most valued profession of his kind, he'd never concerned him with other's opinions, only his commanders. Today it meant he looked at this fight like an engineer. The puzzle coming together. Pieces deciding where they would plug in.

"Tathra, Tathra, Tathra." He began to call, and it got louder. "TATHRA TATHRA TATHRA." The giant and some of those around him began to shout out. The name was a rallying cry and the name was a weapon. Heads lifted further and the survivors of the homeworld found some pride. The titan's name would become a killing word if he had anything to say about it. The benefits of being an engineer.

Turning to Maulis he called loudly, "for another day." Always surviving for another day was his creed, and maybe the dozen they had lived with. The survivors of the homeworld, one day the galaxy would know what that meant.

 

[Ethrok]

// Equipment //
Battleframe (Kraker | Phedrak Lancer | M30 Sear Grenade)
Draelvaiser Armored Shell | Draelvaiser Tower Shields
// Tags // Berok Tathra Khaeus Maulis Kathrok Ostak Cl'mana Sylok'Vanari Gordrak Sethrak

▆▇█▓▒░Ethrok Unfathomable░▒▓█▇▆​

Mind worked vastly quicker than the body so some claimed as a rage-filled mind was set on destroying this illusion of the Great Chieftain of the Bryn'adul Empire. The explosive round fired from his Kraker should have landed by now which was confirmed just a few moments later as a bright light pierced through the shallow dust storm conjured by his shields previously.

Ethrok attempted to shield bash Tathra Khaeus with his built-up momentum but was taken by surprise when an armored hand reached up near his throat and another reached for his leftmost shield. He understood even in his blurry vision that this would be the end of their fight should it be allowed to happen. So hunkering down just a moment like an armored rhino, Ethrok nudged a button to activate the lightning chain built into the shields to allow them to withstand lightsaber attacks.

Maneuvering his massive foot to the side of Tathra foot, extending his shield to bash him straight on.

 

[Seer Kalanthir]

Tags: Sethrak | Gordrak

The Seer was waiting for the usurper when the main doorway to the throne room opened. He stood in front of the throne, arms clasped behind his back. Even the distance between them didn't hide the disdain written on Kalanthir's face. Sethrak had taken a title he did not earn and was a known collaborator of the Heretic Osam. Tathra, of course - did not know about the vile things that had gone on in his absence but he soon would.

As the Warlord got closer, the Seer stepped to the side of the throne, Kalanthir wouldn't stop Sethrak from making an obstacle of himself if he wanted to.

"Whilst he fights, you, usurper. You as sly as possible make for a meaningless throne."

Kalanthir placed his thin fingers on the side of the throne's backrest, looking at the gargantuan monolith. Gordrak had not intended on ruling, the throne was not so much a statement but just a chair to give orders from for the massive leader of the Ultras. Though of course now, that would change.

"Take the throne if you must. But there will be consequences." Kalanthir folded his arms, looking back to the usurper.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Location: At the gates
Tags: Berok | Maulis | Mazoga | Ostak Cl'mana | Gordrak | Ethrok |

When Ethrok slowed, Tathra pushed the weight of his body onto his right foot - bending his knee, edging slightly closer to the point the two were nearly on top of each other. His open palms for grappling turned into fists. Fighting another Draelvasier was unlike any other opponent, most species in the Galaxy didn't match the weight or strength of a Drael. Baedurin, especially, could through each other around with little effort. But that didn't mean they couldn't hurt each other.

Tathra would have to dismantle Ethrok rather than put him in the ground immediately. He wanted the fight over quickly, he could still feel the ice in his joints. The pain made him long for the healing pool. But Ethrok wouldn't let him. He needed to be returned to his senses first and more importantly, Ostak and the others were watching and who knows who else.

As Ethrok stepped to him, bringing his right foot next to Tathras'. The Titan brought his right foot out wide, bending as he turned his left side toward Ethrok and his body away from Ethrok's strike, simultaneously raising his left gauntlet into the inside of Ethrok's strike, pushing it out and away even further before pushing off of him and attempting to strike Ethrok in the side of his face with the back of his fist.

If the strike landed, he'd lurch forward and push Ethrok back with a strike to the chest with his right.

 

[Maulis]

Tag: Tathra Khaeus Berok Ethrok @everyone else

Maulis watched the fight unimpressed this attempt to usurp leadership wouldn't help anyone and those who where here wouldn't trust ethrok if he came out on top anyway. The four armed draelvasier stood there blankly she ignored berok for now. Not saying anything just watching how both tathra and ethrok fought Incase ethrok won and she needed to wrestle it from his unworthy hands. If he proved to be a weak leader for her people she wouldn't go back to living in that cave scrapping an existence like that again her blood craved combat. Craved to see the galaxy burn by draelvasier hands and she would be there at tethras side or at it's helm If he should fail now.

 

[Gordrak]

Sethrak | Tathra Khaeus | Ostak Cl'mana | Ethrok | Maulis | Kathrok | Berok | Seer Kalanthir


Gordrak finally stopped his approach about seven meters or so from the fight. Though it was a respectable distance, Godrak had no doubt in his mind that the combatants could very well cross the distance in no time at all. Drael fought with an intensity often unseen in the lesser species that populated the galaxy. This was something even more zealous. A duel between the Titan himself and a pretender? A rival? Whatever the taller Baedurin was to the Titan, Gordrak didn't care. The older Ultra that had been talking with Gordrak took his place at Gordraks side. He stood to the left of his commander and similarly observed the fight that was unfolding before them. Like Gordrak, the older Ultra turned his attention from the fight to the other party that was watching. Were they part of the Titans party or were they, like the Ultras, a party who had stumbled across the fight and decided to observe?


Gordrak observed the other party intently and not unlike a predator observing potential prey. He saw a familiar face in Ostak Cl'mana but the rest were relative unknowns to Gordrak. He noticed a barrier that, while pitiful in appearance, was likely more of a symbolic gesture than an attempt to prevent interference. Gordrak mused to himself that, should any of them intervene, it would likely turn into a bloodbath. The thought that they were technically kin did not seem to phase him in the slightest. The other Ultras finally caught up and quickly took their places on Gordraks left and right sides respectively. The Ultras said nothing as they too observed the fight unfolding before them. Though many of them had more experiences with the Titan, they remained impassive like their commander.


Gordrak noticed that the Titan seemed slower? No, that wasn't quite the right of it. Perhaps he was wounded? The Titan that Gordrak knew would have dismantled this challenger in no time flat. Then again, Gordrak often observed the Titan fighting the lesser beings. Perhaps his perceptions on the matter were flawed. Regardless, Gordrak wondered how the Titan currently before would stack up to the one he knew. A loud thud roused Gordrak from his thoughts and he quickly looked to his left, finding the source right beside him. The older Ultra he had been talking to had slammed his armored fist upon his breastplate. He did so again then a third time. He repeated this and, within moments, the other Ultras began repeating the gesture. Gordrak listened for a time before realizing he had joined in almost subconsciously.


As the fight continued towards its climax, the sound of their actions grew. The dull thudding grew louder and the time between impacts grew shorter, building in an almost feverish manner. It didn't matter who was fighting now. The only thing that mattered was the fight itself.

 

[Sethrak]

The Seer, Kalanthir, was an unexpected obstacle. Sethrak had been certain that he would be the first to enter this room and it was vexing to discover otherwise. It wasn't just the seer's presence, but his words, that irritated Sethrak the most. To say such things after all The Warlock had done, and after all they had lost...it was beyond an insult. Sethrak was quick to reply with an equally critical assessment.

"Consequence? You speak to me of consequences? What price have you paid for our fall? Where was your wisdom when our kingdom collapsed beneath our feet? What price have you paid for your failures, and where have you been while I carry the weight of our people on my shoulders? Don't speak to me of consequence, Seer."

Sethrak took a seat on the throne. It was far too big, but weren't thrones always? Regardless, he made sure to have a good posture. He would present himself as a chieftain, not some peon. As he sat he contemplated The Seer's words, preparing for both the seer's response, and the prospect of Tathra Khaeus truly being back. The Warlock would have to make a decision. He couldn't just...abdicate...not after spending all this time leading. But who was he to deny The Titan? The person that brought The Draelvasier back from extinction once could surely do it again. But the fall wouldn't have happened to begin with if not for Tathra.

The Warlock couldn't pretend to not have ambition, but the time for ambition was long gone. It wasn't his goal to be Chieftain anymore. It was a duty. What would be best for his people, his brothers? The Warlock allowed himself to loosen up for a moment, leaning to the side and putting his fist up to his face, resting his head on it.

It was a time for choosing.

 

[Seer Kalanthir]

Tags: Sethrak

He seethed in silence, listening to Sethrak spout his words. Sethrak was right to feel insulted because he was attacking his character. The Seer did not hide his dislike of the Warlord turned usurper, the actions of Osam, the surrogate leader who came before Sethrak had been antithetical to everything it was to be a Draelvasier. He almost spoke to interrupt Sethrak, but as quickly as his lips parted he forced them shut once more. He couldn't even look the Warlord in the face.

So much had transpired that Sethrak was unaware of. Osam and Sethrak had betrayed the Titan. Galak, had betrayed the Titan. Betrayal from so many whom the Titan trusted, bent to, and changed their Empire for. Kalanthir had preached for the Chieftain to not do so, but Tathra, the fool; listened to the likes of Sethrak instead. He hoped he would be wiser now.

"The weight of our people? You have only claimed an empty title. Led nothing. Carried nothing. I have watched and waited for our rightful leaders' return and you have done NOTHING." Kalanthir maneuvered into Sethraks periphery, speaking to him directly.

"Our people are scattered, and broken. When Tathra left you, he did so with a purpose. And we who followed, who were loyal. We have all paid the price for the fall of our Empire. But it is not my place to say more." There was smug confidence in his last words.

The usurper would get what he deserved.

 

[Berok]

Tag: Mazoga | Tathra Khaeus | Maulis | Kathrok | Ostak Cl'mana | Sethrak | Ethrok | Sylok'Vanari | Gordrak

Titans fought. Seers and Warlord deciphered legacy.

And the faithful watched on.

There was something in those around them, all displayed in their own way. A bloodlust or a want to return to what had come before, a return to their greatness. Berok would do his best to engineer it. While the others craved combat, he craved the stability and certainty that conquest brought. Lesser factions around them inhabited what was theirs, it blemished their name and caused the fractioning he saw.

When conquerors had no ground, they sort to conquer each other. The young Drael considered, which was a small wisdom beyond his years, and only just realised right now as he watched. Though his chanting continued, he switched from Tathra to Titan as they fought ahead of them to decide who had a claim to lead.

The giant bellowed in a deafening voice, "Conquering memory comes from the titan's fist!" out loudest of all when any fist struck home, there was a laugh from nearby him. Berok was young, idealistic, and inspired at the battle. Which is what they all really needed, to get out of their slump, to pick themselves up… earning another day. One more day to stand and face the fight.

 

[Ethrok]

// Equipment //
Battleframe (Kraker | Phedrak Lancer | M30 Sear Grenade)
Draelvaiser Armored Shell | Draelvaiser Tower Shields
// Tags // Berok Mazoga Kathrok Ostak Cl'mana Sethrak Sylok'Vanari Gordrak

▆▇█▓▒░Ethrok Unfathomable░▒▓█▇▆​

Ethrok's attempted shield bash failed as Tathra Khaeus superior mobility afforded him an angle to strike both his head and chest causing him to stumble back quite considerably as the surface underneath shifted. The punch to the head shook his brain for just a brief moment to recognize that the Great Chieftain of the Bryn'adul Empire was actually before him in the flesh and not some illusion like was previously believed. But if this was the Chieftain, why was he attacking him? A loyal servant in many battles across the galaxy during the Empire's Height.

It was clear to Ethrok that the Chieftain was attempting to slay him and that was something he couldn't allow.

Grabbing an M30 Sear Grenade and hurling it in the Chieftain's Direction.

Before building momentum to leap into the air with both shields aimed downwards in an attempt to use his superior weight to squash the drael lord into the ground.

 

[Vrath]

The power of the Force was uncommon within Draelvasier, from what Vrath knew. Though, he was also an outcast due to his albino shell, the crimson of his people lost to his body. In some ways, the mystical assassin was regarded as inferior to his fellow warriors, but in many other ways he was superior; and the power of the Jedi and Sith allowed Vrath to do... unnatural things.

As it was, the names had been given, the locations had been discerned, through the mysterious Force.

All that remained was final judgment.

Godar. Vaelad.

Those two guards stood diligently at the entryway to the large vessel that had transported Tathra. Yet, their souls were tainted, their minds corrupted, and their traitorous beliefs soon to be expunged. Such was the way for those that did not show loyalty. And such as the way of the white shadow, the pale death, the assassin Vrath.

From behind Godar and Vaelad, a low whistle was heard.

"Hrm?"

Godar turned.

Vrath stood there, hooded and wrapped about the shoulders, with yellow eyes staring.

"What?!" Godar jumped, as he turned to face the sentient that was within arms reach. "Who ar--"

The top half of Godar's skull left his body, sheared through, as a blur followed Vrath's arm movement. In his hand, the assassin held a deadly looking blade, one of energy and impossibly sharp metal, one that was silent like the hunter that used it.

"Y-you, I know who you are," Vaelad had turned at the commotion nearer him, and witnessed the death. "You are--"

A blink, a flicker, and the assassin was beside the second traitor.

"Yes... it is I."

The same deadly blade pierced through the front of Vaelad's chest, as the guard gurgled and was lifted up from the ground for a moment--

"The pale death.

"You die by the will of Tathra."

--and then Vrath tossed the dying corpse to the ground with a thud.

The task was complete; two traitors were now dead, and the assassin would return to the shadows, to await the next names.

Tathra Khaeus​

 

[Ostak Cl'mana]

Tathra Khaeus | Berok | Ethrok | Gordrak | @Maulis | @Mazoga | Seer Kalanthir | Sethrak

Ostak watched with reverence as the two great and powerful Draelvasier clashed.
​

Surely enough, the Chieftain had lost none of his martial ability, his blows as awe-inspiring as ever. With a single blow or swipe, he could tear the ground asunder and turn living beings into little more than puddles of blood and tissue. When combined with his natural intelligence and unrivaled experience, it was no wonder that no usurper had ever succeeded in taking his place. Even if he had the full extent of his powers, Ostak doubted he could hold out against the sheer power of Tathra for more than a few minutes.

However, it was becoming increasingly clear that the Chieftain's foe was no pushover either.

Nearly two heads taller than Ostak, the formidable Drael was clearly of elite Juggernaut stock. Blow for blow, he was an even match for the Chieftain, with neither seeming to get a firm hold on the other. The two repeatedly pummeled each other, locked in a dance as brutal as it was beautiful. The Shaman-Overseer stared in awe at the spectacle before him, excitement filling his veins at the spilling of blood.

Suddenly, excitement turned to nausea as the barrier took its sudden toll.

With his adrenaline leveling out, the pain of mental exertion had returned, bringing Ostak to his knees as he struggled to keep his composure. Accepting that the barrier was most likely a lost cause and recognizing that he would need to conserve his strength should the group face any further challenges inside the fortress, the Overseer released his focus.

A wave of relief washed over Ostak as the barrier faded away into nothing, a tight knot in his stomach loosening. He took a moment to rasp out a few deep breaths before shakily returning to his feet, assessing the situation around him.

Fortunately, the other Draelvasier kept their distance, the time-honored traditions of their kind holding a kind of instinctive sway that none of them could deny. One by one, they began to cheer for Tathra, their rallying cries rising to block out all other sounds.

Prior to the rise of heresy, Ostak would have remained simply an impartial observer. As an Overseer, his goal was to maintain the old traditions and punish dissenters. Nothing more, nothing less. However, these were changing times. He owed his life to Tathra, and his perspective had changed. It was the Chieftain who stood as the last bastion of the Drael way of life against all who had corrupted his teachings. If he fell, so did untold decades of conquests and triumphs, growth and development, comradery and kinship.

If Tathra fell, so did the Draelvasier.

"The Titan stands strong!" bellowed Ostak. "Tathra fights for us all!"

"WE STAND WITH THE CHIEFTAIN!"

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Location: At the gates
Tags: Ostak Cl'mana | Sethrak | Ethrok | Kathrok | Gordrak |

He'd expected pushback to knock some sense into Ethrok. But no, the rage in his eyes didn't disappear. He was lost in his own delusion, and only a clear strike would shake him free of it. Tathra pulled back, stance wide - welcoming whatever came at him next. Ethrok thought he was false, and wanted to cut him down. Burn him.

So he tried.

Tathra just watched as the mad Drael took the sear grenade in his palm. A throwable explosive, designed to kill aliens, useless against their own kind. Tathra knew how long the detonation required, and the weight of the grenade. He had designed it. He could of defended against it, but would there have been a point?

The pain in his joints was bad enough from the freezer burn, it'd be a waste of his limited energies to move at all. Tathra braced with clenched fists as the Sear grenade exploded against his chest, flames curling over his shoulders and around his waist and back. Flame. A Draelvasier's home.

The chanting of his brethren strengthened his stance, gave him certainty.

When Ethrok bounded toward him, Tathra braced as the shields met with his gauntlets. With the other Draelvaiser at his back - the Titan was immovable. Tathra's hands gripped the top of either shield, halting Ehtrok's advance. The lightning thankfully bounced off of his armour. The shields shook between them, slowly parting as Tathra forced Ethrok's arms to either side. So many years of surviving on scraps, his strength wasn't what it used to be.

He would've told him to yield, but words were fruitless. He screamed in Ethrok's face, voice breaking, turning into a cry of anger. A show of ferocity - summoning adrenaline. Forcing his body to push further than the aching would let him. Tathra threw his forehead forward, crashing into Ethrok's nose, stunning him. In the same motion, yanking down both of Ethrok's arms, leaving him defenceless if only for a moment. He struck with his right first, driving his knuckles into Ethrok's throat. Then with his left, crashing into Ethrok's jaw with a quaking snap. The next blow came within a blink of the last, bending low and swiping the mountainous Draels' left foot out from under him.

Tathra's foot rose and crashed against a risen shield, snapping it from the hinges that attached it to Ethrok's arm. Forcing him on his back. Without thought, the shield was in hand.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Tag: Sethrak

His paw curled around the broken harness of the Drael, dropping his tool of entry at his feet. Beaten, bloody. Unconscious was better than dead for a delirious cur. Better than deserved. But it was the circumstance that kept his boot from Ethrok's skull. The Titan had another more important stray to curtail. The large yarasteel alloy doors, outlined by crimson malabast plate began to shift, parting in the middle as great hidden machines whirled to life to move them. Machines that screamed into action as if they had sat in the dust, unused for centuries. The parting metal disappeared into the frame of the Throne Room's entrance.

The corridor stretched between them. The better part of three decades had passed since the two Draelvasier had set eyes on each other. The Titan's quaking steps slowed, not yet bothering to look the 'last warlord' in the eye. Instead, he looked to his trophies, old armour. One particular item stood out.

An almost destroyed breastplate, held up by dozens of axial rigs in a transparasteel casing. The morgue technicians had done their best to clean it after the body had been removed. But Tathra could still see the prints of his paw against the right pectoral, dried blood in the gaps underneath the shoulders still stained the torn undersuit's gel and leather compact.

His left paw tightened into a fist, drawn back to the battle. His prescient understanding of its outcome did little to take him from the carnage. A low growl filled the throne room. The silence filled the throne room as Tathra made the Seer and Warlord wait even now. Even now after three decades, they could wait for his respects to be paid to the fallen.

The fingers of his paw rubbed against one another in the off-hand like he was trying to recall the texture. The other cracked against his plate in a fist.

Hrajlmaks blood, still slick between thumb and index.

"Leave us." The Titan's stoicism fell, stringent baritone filling every corner of the Throne Room, echoing down into the Draeyde Breeding pits below them.

The Seer did not bother to move, only nodding before disappearing in a mirage of red light.

Finally, his eyes came to Sethrak. Gold burned through the Warlord, staring through him.

"Rise boy."

 

[Sethrak]

Time was up. Before him stood what was almost undeniably Tathra Khaeus. No length of time could erase his image from the mind. The piercing, yellow-gold eyes, his large frame, with legs like tree trunks. This had to be Tathra Khaeus. But Sethrak would not give in so easily. It had been so long, how could Khaeus be back now?

"Rise boy."​

Even the voice was immediately recognizable as that of The Titan. Sethrak inhaled, one deep and raspy breath of stale, dust-filled air, then leaned forward and rose to his feet, standing straight. More than straight. He was giving his best posture to The Draelvasier in front of him. Sethrak was not certain as to why he did this, but be it a show of respect, or a sign of confidence, it felt like the right thing to do. After all, the last thing he wanted now would be to look weak.

Sethrak had not overlooked the hesitation The Titan had shown when first entering the area. It clearly was not weakness, but respect for The Fallen. Sethrak had not interrupted, but now gave a nod toward the armor. "He was a great warrior, mentor, and friend. I have honored his sacrifice." he waved his hand in a sweeping motion around the room, "I could have filled this corridor with our warriors. We fight on."

Another statement that could be interpreted in more ways than one. It could be a threat, or a show of dedication to the cause Tathra has formed. Furthermore, The Last Warlock had indeed once rallied an army of the dead, pulling them from their torment in The Nether to fight one final battle. Perhaps it could be done again, and thus the warriors would be "fighting on." But that was uncharted territory. He had nearly died in The Nether, and in a way he did. It was not a place to be trifled with. The battles here at home were difficult enough.

But that was all background noise. All that mattered in this moment was the Draelvasier standing across from him, and just what that Draelvasier intended to do next.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Tag: Sethrak

Immovable.

The mountain did not stagger as it watched Sethrak rise at his command. Good. He had had his fill of disobedient offspring today. The Titan let Sethrak speak, remaining an obelisk with eyes of burning scrutiny staring down the smaller Drael. He wore thick angular armour, large pauldrons that matched his own, and a fitted helm of spikes. A crown. The Warlord's words were met with nothing. The Titan did not flinch nor react outwardly. Tathra let Sethrak's words settle in his stomach. He would not give a reply yet.

But he was correct about Hrajlmak. Not unlike Sethrak, the Shaman-warrior Hrajlmak had been ambitious, bordering on the heretical, and oftentimes at odds with the likes of the Primarch. They were so very much alike that the Titan did not doubt that if Sethrak and Hrajlmak exchanged places, this meeting would be different in only inconsequential ways. But Hrajlmak was long dead, his armour broken and bloody. Where as Sethrak was anew, stronger, and standing broad with more visible vitality than he'd ever seen in him before. His armour was robust, cast from a dark burgundy metal he did not recognise.

A contrast to the battered and stained armour he had been repairing off and on over the last three decades. Tathra looked like he'd stepped right off the battlefield, Galaks Glaive hung on his hip - no Axe in sight but a well-used sword clung to his back. All material.

Sethrak was right. More than he imagined. Tathra had seen and participated in the death of more Draelvasier in the last few decades than any Jedi or Sith could ever boast. The scattered and beaten nature of their species left both leaders despondent.

He recognised the weight of it.

Perhaps 'boy' was too harsh. But Sethrak for all his clean visage stunk of death and rot. Soaked in it in a way that made the Titan uneasy because he did not understand it.

"We will thrive again." Tathra intoned, now slowly pacing to his right and toward a set of dual-composite swords.

"We were betrayed, Sethrak. I left known space to return with a fleet of thousands. But we were betrayed." The Titans gaze fell from Sethrak and to his paw, now grasping Galak's Glaive firmly in his clench.

"The traitors are dead. Only the strong, the loyal, remain. Are you?"

He was too tired for games. Either Sethrak was to be part of their species' future or not. It would be his decision, and Tathra Khaeus would deal out judgment as the answer necessitated.

 

[Sethrak]

The Titan stood before The Warlock, observing him, and when Sethrak's words had left his mouth, there was no reaction. There was a short moment of silence before Tathra finally responded, now pacing to Sethrak's left. "We will thrive again. We were betrayed, Sethrak. I left known space to return with a fleet of thousands. But we were betrayed."

These words jarred Sethrak. When he thought of the empire that had been, his memories were not of betrayal and schemes, outside of the occasional heretic or ambitious warrior. Of course, he had been a thorn in The Chieftain's side before, but his value must have outweighed his negatives, else he would have died long before The Nether. But, who could have betrayed The Bryn'adul during their most desperate moment? Someone strong, or loyal enough to take even The Titan Khaeus by surprise, and ruin any hope of victory. Sethrak searched the names familiar to him, but came up blank. He could think of no one, unless, Hrajlmak?

In truth, Sethrak didn't know everything that occurred on that fateful day. But during his fading moments in The Nether, The Spirit of Hrajlmak had spoken to him. His words were those of surrender. He had explained that the fight was near an end, and then told Sethrak to join him in death. Those words still haunted Sethrak. it had taken everything he had that day to hold on to life, and even with that he was never truly the same. Had Hrajlmak felt the same in his last days alive? But the timing wasn't right, Hrajlmak had passed on before, right? Or had he? It was all a haze, Sethrak knew nothing but war, battles, and death. After three decades it was nearly impossible to accurately recall specific events...combined with his hibernation in The Nether, and his memory was unreliable at best.

"The traitors are dead. Only the strong, the loyal, remain. Are you?"

There it was. The question he had been expecting, and debating within himself for what seemed like forever. He had attempted to find Tathra many times, but he had never resolved what his true intentions were. His motive was nothing more than the survival of The Bryn'adul people at all costs. Did that mean he was hunting Tathra, to avoid a rival leader from taking over and ruining his plans? Or did it mean he was seeking a hero to save them all? He had dedicated so much to get to this position, to hand it over would be too much to bear. But who was he to deny Tathra his place?

Decided, The Last Warlord took one small step toward Khaeus who now towered over him as they were now on even ground. The Warlock looked The Titan in the eye, just for a second, then with both hands he removed his "crown." However, he did not hand it to The Titan. Instead, he turned back to the throne, and placed the crown upon it. In this action he was neither abdicating to Tathra, nor was he resisting him. He was simply stepping aside. For now. He would see this through, no matter what. If Tathra proved that he could lead, then Sethrak would follow him. However if The Titan had changed, or perhaps failed to change, The Warlock would not hesitate to retake that crown, even if Tathra's head was attached to it.

With the crown on the throne, Sethrak took a step back, clearing the way for Tathra and watching him, silently.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Tag: Sethrak

His mandibles flexed, pulling taught into a narrow and impatient expression. The Warlord meandered a step out of reach, thinking. About what the Titan didn't need to know, it had been a decades since he last gave orders to Sethrak. The bond between Chieftain and all Drael had been tested, that much was clear from the rageful fool he'd left in a pool of his own blood just before the corridor. Thinking back to the violence made him instinctively roll his shoulders forward. Presenting broken pauldrons, battered flesh and all. If Sethrak hadn't felt small already, he would now.

Even in this state Tathra was confident he could tear the arm from Sethraks socket before the Warlords spear found his gut. But all he needed from him was submission. Of course, Tathra anticipated the egotism in the response. Sethrak removed his crown, as if it had been made for or meant more than nothing. His upper mandibles jolted in a scoff.

Crown of the fallen.

Crowns. Thrones.

A coalition did not have a singular throne. His mastery of the Neti, the Myka, the Novatar. The immensity of the task before him left little room for materialistic ego. But still, Sethrak was valuable and the Titan was indeed pleased to have his loyalty even after all this time.

"We'll have no need for crowns where we are going."

His posture softened. Eyes like gold falling from the throne. So many moving parts. The Draelvasier strength had been waning for so long, if he returned with only a battalion at his back, they're position of power within the Protectorate could be challenged. Tathra had no intention of losing his title of Chieftain now.

His eyes studied the floor as if it would part and show him the answers. No, they would have to find it themselves. Find the other Draelvasier. Start again. Cement the position of the Draelvasier.

"A new power is rising. I intend for the Draelvasier to be part of it, lead it. A concert of worlds and species like us." He spoke as if he could see such an empire in front of his own eyes. They would destroy this Galaxy. Together.

-

A few hours had passed of studious repairs. Draed Muinne would act as a gathering point for all remaining Drael. But it needed to be ready. Tathra had brought Ungulloi engineers with him, small waddling creatures with a knack for fixing technology, biomechanical or otherwise.

A few hours of almost silence between the two Drael as they oversaw the arrival of a paltry assortment of Draelvasier. Their ships and equipment in various states of disrepair. He turned on his heel, the loose objects in the room rattling with every movement. Now he and Sethrak were alone once again. This time in the fortresses command spire.

A question lingered in the back of Tathra's mind.

"I've been absent for some time, Sethrak. Tell me - what became of the other Warlords? Of Osam?" The words came slow, the heavy baritone of his voice filling the air with a dead name.

Of course, he already knew. But this, this he needed from an eye witness.

 

[Sethrak]

Sethrak had observed The Chieftain's actions carefully, and absorbed his words with equal attention and thought. His decision to leave the crown caused some uncertainty within The Warlock. Tathra Khaeus was not one to pass an opportunity to project himself. Even moments before taking the crown, his posture had noticeably changed to one that displayed his strength. Age had not impeded his physique, but unlike Sethrak, The Chieftain was likely not taking extended visits to The Nether to replenish his strength.

"We'll have no need for crowns where we are going."

Tathra's words did little to ease Sethrak's curiosity, offering no clear explanation for why he had passed the crown. Where would they be going?

"A new power is rising. I intend for the Draelvasier to be part of it, lead it. A concert of worlds and species like us."

A little more information was passed along with this sentence, but it was far too vague to explain the situation. The First Warlock wondered....



---------

...and for the next hours, he learned near nothing about The Titan's plans. The duo had left the corridor, and now stood within The Fortress' Command Spiral, overlooking the maintenance, repairs, and in many cases reconstruction of The Fortress' many sectors. The Ungoli worked hard, their efficiency unmatched, even with such low numbers. Sethrak had always felt protective over the small species. He respected them for what they were. However, many of his own people felt very different. It was bad before the fall, but even after the fall when many warlords like himself had attempted to seize power, The Ungoli had faced discrimination, slavery, even genocide by some. It was the same for the other allied races, but The Ungoli were particularly unfavorable to Drael traditionalists.

"I've been absent for some time, Sethrak. Tell me - what became of the other Warlords? Of Osam?"

Sethrak did not know how long the two had stood in the tower before Tathra finally turned to him, and inquired about the other Warlords. Sethrak found it ironic that Tathra would ask about The Warlords at the same time he had been thinking of The Ungolli and their treatment at the hands of those very warlords. Sethrak also wondered why Tathra would ask about something he undoubtedly already knew the answer to. Surely his return had consisted of ample scouting, at least, he would know what had happened to his most trusted commanders. Sethrak had always been a strategist, while he considered Tathra to be more brutish, but The Titan wasn't stupid. He wouldn't walk blindly into his old, crumbling kingdom.

So, he was probing Sethrak. He wanted The First Warlock's rendition of the events that had transpired since his absence. It was a test of loyalty. Had Sethrak followed the precedents set by The Titain himself, or had Sethrak reformed The Bryn into something unrecognizable? The truthful answer regarding the warlords was that many, the strongest, had perished with honor. The weaker warlords, being the runts and vermin they are, had often tried to seize power for themselves. No doubt they all had delusions of grandeur, bringing The Bryn'adul to power under their reign.

Those delusions ended where Sethrak's spear began.

"Surely you know the answer to that." he looked the Titan in the eyes, "But as you wish. Most fought bravely. Most died. Those who did not, often hid, and schemed. The cowards were eradicated, unless they had good reason for their silence. Many tried to take power. Many died. Osam was one of the brave ones." He bowed his head slightly at the mention of Osam, looking away from Tathra's eyes, and awaiting his response.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Tag: Sethrak

He knew the answer. But he wanted it 'from the Rhivaks mouth'. Sethrak gave him statistics, as he had observed from the back-end of the Galaxies most outer rims.

"Yes. Brave." Tathra sighed, releasing trapped carbon from his lungs.

The Titan had hoped that Sethrak was there in the end, at the side of the Risen-Srael. Tathra nodded to himself at the comment about Osam. It could've just as easily been Galak and Osam in their place. Something not far from the future he had expected. But no, in their place stood two Drael that had been at odds more often than they had ever had visions aligned. But Tathra preferred that to a lapdog. He remained still, joining the Warlord as both stared off into the nothing. The complexes of Draed-Muinne a momentary distraction from the shared discomfort discussing the dead.

"So we were torn apart from the inside. On both fronts." Frustrated. Insulted. Tathra growled through his words. He hadn't seen the collapse coming, he knew they were stretched too thin - hence his plan to bring forth the hidden fleets. To strengthen his people, instead? Galak turned the allied species from their purpose, and used his loyal warriors to destroy everything Tathra had built.

His greatest foe and greatest failure all in one. But, he had been brave too.

Great crimson paws grasped the console in front of him, staring back in time.

Blows rose and fell, Galak's glaive crashing into his blade. Standing above a hill-top of Drael corpses. The Titan pursued, battered and cloaked in blood as he traded blow after blow with the Traitor. The cracks in their armour illuminated by the bleeding core of the planet, Kardon - shattered and pulling everything in. Pure carnage, pure hate.

Tathra pulled himself back from the memory, paws clenched. All but resisting the urge to crush the console in his grasp. Part of him wished he had been able to kill every traitor. Even nameless as Sethrak kept them, his mind was flooded with the vitriol, the painful deaths they would have suffered by his paws. He could guess which had turned coward. Tathra had always wondered if it was his gaze alone that kept the Draelvaiser in line. He had been partially right. The idea of Warlords he'd personally appointed, entrusted - turning to cowardice and villainy made him bristle with an impudent rage. It would do him nor Sethrak any good.

"You honour me with your loyalty. And those who fell." The Titan finally turned to Sethrak. Looking across to him, not down upon.