Dominion Doom of a Dynasty - BotM Dominion of Tiantang

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Alars Keto​

As the horde of marauders advanced, Zachariel stood idle at the center of a half circle of dead knights. They had fought well, were worthy in many aspects, but simply not good enough. Of all of them, only a handful truly were independent, most notably their leader. That was to be expected, but it was simply proven during this fight. As Kryll finally joined him, Zachariel took a moment to look the man over, then look back on the kills he'd had. Smirking slightly beneath his helmet, Zachariel nodded to the mans statement.

Though the knights were a good fight, they were also annoyingly difficult to deal with. Not in the manner that they were extremely skilled, but that they'd slow the Brotherhood down far too much. That said, they deserved their own reward for putting up a fight. Thus, rather than immediately respond to Kryll, Zachariel reached down to one of the worthy knights, one that had struck his helm. Grabbing the knights helmeted head, Zachariel pulled. With a sick squelch the head was removed from the body and left to hang in Zachariel's hand. Straightening, Zachariel placed the knightly helm on a prominent shoulder spike.

"Indeed lieutenant. The worthy ones shall make a fine addition to my collection, and the rest shall simply die."
Chuckling once more, Zachariel turned his attention forward to the marauders. Many were climbing to higher levels, some already having breached the doors and rushing through. And on the ground floor more were flooding forward, rushing after the harried defenders. At their lead were the strongest, and those with shields. Following them was a bloodthirsty horde of uncaring and unending marauders.

Marching forward, Zachariel motioned for Kryll to follow him. Passing through the destroyed doors and into the hallway beyond, they'd come upon a slaughter, even as the marauders continued to fight further away. The number of defenders here showed it was merely a holding action, and that the true defenses lay further back. If anything in this palace could be considered truly defended, aside from the throne room. Making their way past the slaughter, they soon came to a divide in hallways, one filled with marauders and local defenders.

At the split there were several knights forming a shield wall, preventing any true offensive. Around them were regular soldiers, staying in cover and firing upon any marauders. As for the marauders, they had created makeshift barricades with the shields they carried, or simply taken cover by the walls. This stagnation only helped the defenders, as it was clear they were holding the line so their fellows further down the corridors could set up defenses. And while this was a setback, it was also an opportunity. Turning to Kryll, Zachariel smiled darkly.

"I did offer you a command, didn't I Kryll? Well then," Zachariel motioned towards the combat. "command, and prove yourself worthy."

 

[Maestus]

The door was no longer an obstacle. Maestus stepped through, and surveyed her new surroundings.

THe room was lit by torches, they cast eerie shadows that slithered along the floor. The air was dank and stagnant. Maestus nose wrinkled, and she tried hard to breath as little as possible.

Around the room, which was more like a cavern, stood pedestals. 6 in total. on top of 3, were books. Maestus couldn't tell what the subject matter was from this distance. On top of 1, was a mask. On another, a hunk of some kind of crystal or gem Maestus had never seen before. ANd on the last, was what appeared to be a holocron. Maestus wanted it all. Only 1 minor set back.

3 monks standing between her and her prizes. They wasted no time in trying to stop her.

Before Maestus knew what happened, she was slammed back against the stone wall, beside the door. She coughed hard, the wind knocked out from her. Before she could take a breath, she was flung up in the air, then slammed back down against the rock hard floor. She laid there, gasping for air. Her vision was blurry, and her entire body felt like it was on fire.

The 3 monks spread out, stepping carefully but confidently as the Sith look like a gasping, dying fish.

Maestus gulped in air, even as broken ribs made every breath torture. She finally was able to get enough air in her lungs, and pushed herself up onto her elbows. She glared at the monks with fury. Rage bubbled up within her. Hatred stirred in her blood. She stared at the monks, and her eyes burned black with red flames.

Slowly she found her feet. She had several broken ribs but be damned if she let something that trivial stop her. She threw her head back, and inhaled slowly and steadily. Til her lungs were beyond full capacity. She began chanting in Ancient Sith, heaed back, eyes closed. Truth be told, there was no rhyme or reason to her chanting. The words, coming in 2's and 3's, seemed not to go together. Maestus was not trained in the Sorcerous arts fully. She was going strictly on primal instinct.

While she was chanting, the monks exchanged glances. What were seconds ago confident, positive expressions...Were now worrisome. And afraid.

Just how Maestus likes 'em. ​

​

 

[Tegan Starfall]

Post: 1
Objective: Rivers of Blood & Black Skies
Location: A farm on Tiantang
Tags: Open

---

Tegan ran her fingers across the leaves as she wandered down a row of the Tea field, she was walking in. Not far behind her was a small farm, where a lovely little family once lived. They didn’t live there no more their blood was now substance for the tea plants. Tegan just wandered down the field taking in the fresh air her sith helmet and mask hung at her side. She was wandering down the rows in a skipping motion not a care in the world, well not a care for this world anyway.


The rest of the cultist she was traveling the Galaxy with were off killing emperors, sacking temples, and gathering tribes but none of that had drawn Tegan’s interest. No she had several different plays in motion for this world. As she skipped throw the field several men came running up to her, the men were disfigured from ritualistic scarring of their bodies. One of the men was carrying a bag of seeds and a couple of others were carrying some young plants in pots.


“Take those to the ship.” She said nodding back towards the CR90 that was landed near the farmhouse. She then turned to a very tall, scarred man that stood near eight feet tall. “Start burning the fields, you and your men have a long night ahead of you.”


The man nodded but then asked of her. “Where are you going?” Tegan who had half turned away from him at this point about to follow the men taking the seeds and plants back to the ship. She looked back at him and a wicked little grin crossed her face and her orange eyes flashed.


“Oh, besides watching the fields get burned, I have men rounding up all the children of this world and I also plan to shut down any escape routes off the planet.” Oh yes tonight was going to be long but by the end of it those that survived would be begging her for mercy. Yet no mercy would come well the rest of cultist took their temples, tribesmen, and emperors Tegan was going to take their lively hood, their future, and their hope.


“Now burn the damn field.” She began walking off to her ship her coat flowing in the breeze as the tall, scarred man yelled at his men and torches lit up the country side as the fields started to get set ablaze.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Meditation Chamber
Tags: TK-818 | Maestus | Kyrel Ren

Five monks. Five masters, trained all their lives in the Fangshi arts, strong in their magic. Five men and women who had never been conquered in battle, directing the flow of combat around them with finely-honed martial arts and their mystical Way. It was a force that had defeated intruders many times before, be they bandits or Kagan-Jin marauders. They and all their predecessors over the centuries had protected the temple from countless dangers, even threats as great as entire besieging armies. Tranquil, serene even as they carried out the necessary violence to defend their home, they were unafraid of these latest attackers.

The Mongrel smiled, his teeth bloodstained, as TK-818 spoke. The warriors of the Maw weren't afraid, either. The monks should be.

Feeling the Ren's signal, the marauder ducked as Sinh's polearm whirled backwards. The reversed strike caught the monk off-guard, scoring a long, bloody gash along the front of his black robes. The Mongrel followed up the strike by leaping forward onto the dazed master, the point of his ryyyk blade preceding him. Ordinarily the Fangshi disciple could have easily avoided such a clumsy attack, but he had been left off balance by the wound Sinh had inflicted. He managed to twist partially out of the way, but The Mongrel's blade bit into his side, drawing another spray of blood. Then The Mongrel slammed into him, shoulder-first.

Both men spun to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs. Abandoning the ryyyk blade, which he could not swing from the ground, The Mongrel drew one of the many knives he kept hidden in his boots and sleeves. Grabbing the monk by the throat, he began stabbing in a frenzy, doing his utmost to puncture every vital organ his serrated blade could reach. All of this happened within seconds, and the other monks reacted quickly. Two of them lashed out with their magic, blowing The Mongrel off of their comrade with an invisible push and slamming him against the chamber wall. Then they charged him as he tried to rise.

The other two circled around Sinh, wary of his polearm's long reach...

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Kagan-Jin Camp, Central Tent
Tags: Open

It was all too easy. Ogedei was still young, with so much to prove. He had succeeded the great Temujin, but he had not yet shown that he was the Great Khaan's true heir; in order to achieve that, he would need a mighty conquest of his own. Tu'teggacha had filled his mind with visions of that conquest, of the plunder and glory that would result. Ogedei lived a waking dream, immersed in a fantasy of heaps of glittering aurodium and legions of comely concubines clad in imperial silks. Of course, he would not savor such spoils for long, if at all. The Khaan was only necessary for the moment, a figurehead for the Brotherhood to manipulate. It would soon be safe to discard him.

Ogedei rose from his throne, and the other occupants of the yurt rose with him, a gesture of disciplined respect. The Kagan-Jin might be wild by Tianese standards, but their internal codes of behavior were strong, far stronger than that of the ruthless and savage marauders who formed the bulk of the Maw's forces. It remained to be seen whether that discipline would stay with them when the Brotherhood unleashed them upon the galaxy. "Come, and see our might," Ogedei said. Tu'teggacha inclined his head in a respectful half-bow, though internally he smirked. He knew every move that the young Khaan would make now, and knew exactly how to twist it to his own ends.

They left the tent, and at a shouted command from one of Ogedei's bodyguards, the entire Kagan-Jin camp exploded into motion. Warriors hastened to ready their weapons and mounts, preparing to show their assembled strength before their leader. It was, Tu'tteggacha had to admit, an impressive display. The Kagan-Jin had not broken the power of the Tianese Empire by accident; they were fearsome warriors, practically born in the saddle, raised in the ways of war and the hunt. The huge regiments of riders that assembled before him now dazzled him with possibilities. He could not wait to see them unleashed upon the unsuspecting worlds of greater galactic civilization.

All that remained was to plant an idea in Ogedei's head, an idea that would show off the power of the Kagan-Jin... and bind them forever to the fate of the Maw. "Truly an army beyond all others," Tu'teggacha lied. "They must hunger for glory worthy of their greatness." Images flowed from his mind into the Khaan's, twisting his thoughts. A cloudy, puzzled look passed over Ogedei's face as the Taskmaster burned away the last of his caution and uncertainty. "It is so," he agreed, then turned back to the assembled host. "Pack up your yurts and prepare your weapons! We ride to Guangzuishan!"

A thunderous response greeted the announcement, and Tu'teggacha contorted his facial tendrils into a grotesque smile. The famous market city Ogedei had named would be a perfect testing ground for the might of the Kagan-Jin...

 

[Tegan Starfall]

Post: 2
Objective: Rivers of Blood & Black Skies
Location: In route to Landing Port.
Tags: Open

---

Tegan Stared out a window as the shuttle lifted into the air to take them to the nearest space port. As the ship rose into the air she watched the fires burning in the fields. Her orange eyes flickered like the fires and her mind drifted to the past. Once long ago her father the Rebel Sith Darth Lucid brought her in to help aid and defend a group much like the Maw, heathen’s hell bent on bringing the Galaxy to its knees. “Regnum In Potestas. “ Her lips mouthed the name of the of the cult. What the fires made her think of was when she saw the ritual the four leaders of the group went through. They summoned spirits from the nether and bonded with them, in a blood ritual. One spirit represented death, on represented Famine, one Represented conquest, and one represented war. Tegan watched as those leaders of the cult bonded with those entities.


That day wasn’t marked by act of an age of rampage but as the day Tegan looked at everyone of those leaders all which had mocked her and scoffed at her and she saw their downfall. Just like she had envisioned that day she saw everyone of them fail and fall. She smiled the day she saw the spirit forsake the leader that took the mantel of death rejecting him and leaving him in Pain his legacy completely and utterly destroyed no one even remember his name these days erased from history. Then there was the day her family broke the mantel of war and conquest forcing them kneel and relinquish their power. The final one was Famine and Tegan’s particular favorite, as she had tormented and tortured that one, he ran from her time and time again. She even laid waste to Famine’s homeworld of Lao-mon, his power waned and left him as he cowered in fear of her relentless pursuit. She took a perverse pleasure in watching that one suffer.


Her eyes still on the blaze thinking of those days, the embodiments of horsemen of apocalypses breaking and how now she was doing there job better then they ever had. As she stood there on of the scarred men approached her. “Lord Sokar.” They asked their voice booming loudly.


“Speak.”


He hesitated for a moment she tone was soft almost quiet, and she didn’t look at him. She didn’t look at him because she didn’t care to, the fires outside intrigued her more. “We will reach the Landing Port soon, our forces have it held up and they have removed the children from the adults. It is also happening at several other ports across the world.” Tegan shook her head in acknowledgement.


“Once we arrive can you get me a Holo feed to all the other space ports?” She again asked and yet did not even turn to the scared man.


“Yes, Lord Sokar. Is there anything else?” Tegan’s right hand reached out and waved him away. “No, that will be all.” Her sights watched the fires that now went on for miles and miles all across the world.

 

[Alars Keto]

Kryll took a deep breath and followed the warlord with a subtle nod to his statement, following in the wake of the bloodthirsty horde of marauders pouring into the palace proper. They passed beyond the threshold of broken doors and ravaged corpses, the defenders pushed further back by the savage warriors of the Bloodsworn. The pair of lead warriors pressed on following the trail left behind until coming upon a divide in passageways, one holding a fierce battle between the marauders and shielded defenders holding the line with all they had.

He gave them credit, their average yoke took cover behind the veteran knights and took aim upon the Maw troops. The enemy maintained a successful testudo of sorts against them and if allowed to continue would devastate their numbers efficiently. The maddened warrior spat at the ground, his eyes full of fire. "Aight then, you ain't gotta tell me twice."

The lieutenant marched off with his sword at the ready, he pressed it against the wall of the passageway and put pressure against the wall as the filament edge came to life. Plasma and ultra-sonic durasteel pressed hard against the surface, carving a harsh line as he walked with a loud screech as he moved forward. He approached the battle like a predator ready to pounce and sometimes that was what was needed to win before even striking the first blow. Psychological warfare and a blow to morale was sometimes everything.

The fighting was loud and fierce, savage Mawites pressing hard against the shielded foes with blood curling roars filling the hall. Kryll set his hand against the nearest warrior with glee, an idea coming to mind as blaster fire roared narrowly past him. "Oye you. Lemme see that grenade there.."

"Whaa? What grenade."

Kryll helped himself into the marauder's nap sack, retrieving a piece of loot or scrap, whatever the bloke had taken from the locals. It had resembled a grenade enough to cause worry, although upon closer inspection it was quite obvious it was merely junk. Flipping his blade he tossed the fake frag up a few time before committing with tap of his blade like a bat.

Rinnnnnnggg.

The blade resounded through the air as the junk object flung into the knights. "AIGHT BOYS FRAG OUT!"

Panic resounded for a brief second as the knights left a small opening before realizing the ploy, it was too late however. The Brotherhood took advantage of the opening and poured in as the psychopath screamed, "FORWARD! BRING ME THEIR HEADS!"

Zachariel Steelblood

 

[TK-818]

Objective 3: Pillage the Monastery
Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: The Mongrel


The Shadow was with them. Those who lived by the Ren, by the lightsaber, were legion in themselves.

The Mongrel was quick witted, catching his signal with minimal pause as his poled weapon whirled about and connected with the monk caught off-guard. A long swipe carved away a bloody gash along the torso of the monk as the Mongrel moved in for a follow up, leaping into the surprised master with his scavenged ryyyk blade as both men came crashing into the ground violently. As the Mongrel dealt with the Fangshi Monk on the floor, Sinh quickly adjusted to his remaining foes still outnumbering him four to one. The monks reacted quickly, attempting to come to the rescue of their brother-in-arms.

A weak trait shared they shared with the Jedi. They should of took the opportunity to attack him when it was presented.

Two monks pushed forth, unleashing the full blunt of the Force upon the Mongrel as he was spirited away by an invisible push into the nearest wall and then charged leaving the other two to the Knight of Ren. Encircling the dark warrior they watched for his pole weapon with skilled eyes, the Knight of Ren scowled under his mask and saw his opportunity to strike while the other two were distracted. With a quick lunge he savaged plunged himself forward and reached out at the same moment in instinct, attempting to pull the target of his attack into the weapon's blade.

The Knight of Ren realized he would be left open and prepared himself for what came next, ready to drop the weapon and retrieve his backup nestled away in his back mounted sheathe in case.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Meditation Chamber
Tags: TK-818 | Maestus | Kyrel Ren

The Fangshi masters were men and women of great skill, veterans of many battles to defend their home... but they had never faced outsiders who wielded the powerful magic they called The Way. They were prepared for The Mongrel; he was not so different from the Kagan-Jin raiders who had often attempted to loot the temple. But TK-818 was another matter entirely. When the monks skirmished against each other, they practiced with The Way... but they could not have imagined its more brutal applications.

So the master approaching from Sinh's left was taken by utter surprise when the Ren warrior seized him with the Force while he lunged and yanked him forward. Sinh's polearm raced forward even as the shocked master was pulled toward it... and the results were gruesome. The weapon punched clean through the monk's chest and out his back, fully impaling him. It was not a survivable injury, piercing organs and mangling the spine. Death was instantaneous; the monk drooped along the weapon's haft.

The other master's serene composure broke, the woman crying out in grief and alarm as another of her companions fell. She lashed out with a Force-enhanced kick, aiming for Sinh's weapon in an attempt to disarm him; she was gambling that, with a man's full weight still hanging from the weapon, the Ren warrior would have difficulty moving it out of the way. She followed up with a flurry of punches, her fists moving so fast the eye almost couldn't track them, striking for her foe's chest and trying to crush his rubs.

Meanwhile, The Mongrel had troubles of his own. Before he could get back to his feet, two monks had charged him. One lashed out with a foot and caught him in the throat, pinning him against the temple wall and cutting off his airway; only his armor kept the blow from crushing his trachea. The other kicked his knife out of his hand, then brought the heel of her foot down hard. The Mongrel howled in pain and rage as the master's foot smashed into his palm; he could already tell that his right hand was broken.

He had to escape the situation, or they were going to kill him in the next few seconds. Fortunately, he always had a weapon up literally every sleeve. Shaking his left arm, he slid a tiny Q4-Quickfire holdout blaster into his hand. Before the monk crushing his throat could react, The Mongrel fired it point blank through his black-robed knee, annihilating the joint with a small but powerful blaster bolt. The master fell back from him, tried to take a step, and collapsed as his leg buckled beneath him. A grunt of pain broke through his disciplined silence.

The Mongrel turned his blaster on the other monk, squeezing off two shots, but she called upon The Way to lend her speed. With inhuman grace she twisted out of the way of both bolts, launching into a backflip, that gave her some distance. In midair she reached into her robe and produced several throwing stars, which she launched at the marauder before she even hit the ground. Three of the weapons streaked toward The Mongrel. Luckily for him, two of the weapons glanced off his armored chest plate.

The third embedded itself in the meat of his shoulder, and the marauder let out another hiss of pain. Despite his mounting injuries, he managed to push himself up from the wall, his small gun still held in his good hand. The Q4 was an incredibly powerful holdout, but its effective range was only about two meters, so it wouldn't do much good against a fast-moving monk all the way across the chamber. But with his scattergun useless against these magic-wielders, he was going to have to finish this up close...

The monk produced more throwing stars, and The Mongrel growled. She was trying to keep him back from the monk with the wounded leg, dragging her comrade across the room with her free hand... but it was clear that he was out of the fight. It was two on two now, down from five on two; whether the Fangshi masters could turn the tide back in their favor remained to be seen.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Guangzuishan, Outskirts
Tags: Open

Guangzuishan, the Gateway to the South, the City of Silken Wonders. Other than the magnificent Imperial Capital, this was perhaps the most beautiful and cosmopolitan city on Tiantang. In was a port in more senses than one. Many Tianese merchants still sailed the planet's seas, bringing in cargoes from other continents, and Guangzuishan was often their destination; it sat in a sheltered cove, protected from the cerulean waves by high cliffs of white stone. It was also a major spaceport, with trader-captains from all the Tianese colonies bringing the riches of the Empire back to its glorious homeworld.

The Kagan-Jin horde massed on the hills overlooking the trade city, gazing upon its glittering towers... and mighty walls. Temujin Khaan had seized the Imperial Capital and slain an Emperor, but no one had ever successfully besieged great Guangzuishan. Tu'teggacha's facial tendrils twisted into a grotesque smile. No one yet, anyway. The Taskmaster directed his hovering platform up to the horde's front line, where Ogedei Khaan waited astride his magnificent charger. He could sense the young ruler's nervousness warring with his lust for glory. He knew that the wrong move here could end the power of the Kagan-Jin.

"It is a mighty city, Great Khaan," Tu'teggacha said, stopping beside Ogedei. "Its people, cowardly but clever, have built high walls so that they need not face your unmatched hordes in open battle. Those walls, as I understand it, have kept out generation after generation of Kagan-Jin." The Khaan's jaw tightened, and the Ebruchi could see that it was true. "But such things are not an obstacle to the Maw. Let me show you our power." With a quick press of his commlink, Tu'teggacha contacted the Brotherhood fleet in orbit, sending them the signal they had agreed upon many hours earlier.

The sky lit up red as the Fatalis fired its orbital autocannons. The massive bolts streaked toward the walls of Guangzuishan... and blew them apart in a spray of alabaster rubble. Civil alarms blared through the city as the massive defense collapsed, annihilated in a single shot by the massive Super Star Destroyer high above. Ogedei looked flabbergasted; they had done what he and all his forefathers could not, and they had done it in seconds. He was beginning to understand the power of those he bargained with... and to both fear and covet it. "And now, Great Khaan," the Ebruchi said, "the city is yours to conquer."

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Alars Keto​

Zachariel gave a grin as Kryll took to his command with fervor. It was good to see, and it confirmed the man would make a good lieutenant for his warband. With time, he'd even become one of his chosen warriors. He already had the makings of it in him, he only needed the time to prove himself many times over to be given that honor. As it was, Zachariel stood back from Kryll, simply watching the man act, and watching how his own warband reacted to the man and his commands.

Simply put, they followed the ones who had the will to lead, and those who had the approval of their warlord. Thus, they took to him as easily as they had any other leader. But the ingenuity Kryll showed was something else, and it showcased why he was a leader and not a follower. Advancing to watch his marauders charge the defenders, Zachariel couldn't help but laugh at them. He manuevered himself to stand in the center of the hallway, watching as the marauders charged forth around him and towards the defenders. At their head was Kryll, leading from the front as any good leader should.

The Brotherhood slammed into the wall of defenders with fury, cutting into them during their greatest moment of weakness and confusion. And it worked perfectly. Where the defenders had expected a grenade, they instead found a tide of death. Laughing, screaming, howling in madness, they came. It didn't matter whether it was an elite knight or a regular soldier that stood before them, they were cut down like chaff. And. It. Was. Glorious. This tide of madness swept forward, uncaring of the handful of casualties sustained, uncaring of the walls that stood before them. They rushed forward and down the corridor, slamming into the next line of defenders.

Said defenders had hoped for more time, and were thus unprepared for the onslaught of bodies. They could only fight and die, screaming as they were killed with reckless abandon. Zachariel marched forward then, stomping over the dead without a care, smiling at each new death he saw. As he marched, it became clear to everyone that the defenders were merely delaying the inevitable. In fact, it became so obvious to them that several threw their weapons down and surrendered. Of that number, none were knights, though a handful were captured. The others either fought to the death or ran, hoping to survive another day, or perhaps regroup elsewhere. Regardless of what they did, it was futile, for the Brotherhoods marauders hounded them every step of the way, screaming their war cries all the while.

Drinking deep of the pain surrounding the palace, Zachariel made his way to one of the captured knights, sneering down at him. It wasn't one of those that had faced him when he first entered, but was still an elite. But that was nothing to Zachariel, who simply lifted the man with a fist around his neck.
"Tell me mortal, where is your Emperor? Why has he abandoned you so..."

For a long moment there was silence from him, and then Zachariel began to dig into his brain. Using a mixture of the Force and his tentacles, Zachariel wormed himself inside. And it made the man wail in agony, even as he divulged all he knew to the warlord. Even as his screams made the surrendered or captured soldiers cower further, unsure of what caused him such unimaginable pain, but unwilling to feel it as well. It all brought a dark joy to Zachariel, one he drank deeply of.

 

[Alars Keto]

Kryll led from the front of the Bloodsworn warband with ferocious zealotry. The band of warriors slammed into the defenders like a tidal wave of violence incarnate, fallen prey to such easy trickery by the marauder had left the enemy exposed and now on the sharp side of the Brotherhood's blades. One misguided move had cost them dearly.

The fighting was fierce, despite their broken phalanx the enemy was still resilient to say the least. A wounded animal often fights hardest when faced with the end, and the defenders proved this even when broken from their defensive barrier. It made no difference to the horde, they would wash over the enemy like an unholy flood and bring death to any who stood in their way. The Avatar of War smiled upon them, Kryll knew the knights would find no victory against the Bloodsworn today.

His eyes snapped forward, Kryll gazed out on what appeared to be a collapsed opening that had come into view. Smoke and debris lined the hall before a savage entry left behind by a stray explosive by one of the Bloodsworn, the entryway into the Grand Foyer of the Palace. They were getting closer, "FORWARD! TAKE THE INNER PALACE!" Blood, sweat, and excitement washed over him as delusions of grandeur overcame his thoughts, he'd never killed an emperor before. With the raising of his sword and a blood curling roar from his lungs, the horde pressed forward and forced the defenders into the Grand Foyer as they cut them down one by one.

"LEAVE NONE ALIVE!"

Zachariel Steelblood

 

[TK-818]

Objective 3: Pillage the Monastery
Location: Fangshi-Da Temple
Tags: The Mongrel


One down. His beskar-alloy vibro halberd pierced fiercely through the chest of the first of his prey, the monk left impaled for moments before being discarded like the filth he was. The damage was brutal and efficient, dead before anyone could process what had transpired. His eyes scanned the others through the visor of his helmet, several more to go. They would taste death at the hands of one who lived by the Ren!

His predetermined victory and delusions of grandeur were short-lived as the second master broke into alarm and grief, lashing out at the Knight of Ren with a Force-enhanced kick that disarmed the dark warrior. The blow had been too powerful, such force yanked the weapon from his skilled grasp and now he was unarmed against the martial artist as she followed up with a flurry of punches. The Force-imbued strength of the warrior was impressive, he felt the full weight of the superhuman force levy against his armor.

Indents big and small were ravaged into the armor plating as the force behind the series of blows was still partially absorbed by the body within. He took the many hits like a test dummy, feeling the copper taste of blood return to his lips. Her speed was impeccable, a quick crack across his chest plate signaled her final hit sending Sinh flying through the air with a harsh skid across the chamber floor.

The Knight of Ren gripped his chest in struggle to catch his breath, he felt his rips pop and his ankles crackle as he attempted to rise. The Shadow fed him, sparking his anger from a candle light to a raging inferno as he dwelled on the pain, the anguish he felt. As he struggled to his feet his right hand folded into a fist and crashed against his armor in a resounding thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The Knight of Ren let the pain fuel the bent up anger inside him, the passion that would harness the Shadow’s energies. His vocabulator screamed and distorted violently as he issued a blood curling roar and stretched out is senses beyond his physical shell. Reaching out with his hands and the Force, the Knight of Ren clamped down and squeezed tightly the invisible tethers between his fingertips.

He attempted to crush her skull by force of will alone as his free hand rose to his back, drawing his sheathed vibroblade. With a firm grip and a savage eye upon the other monks he charged, ready and willing to remove her head from her shoulders..

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Meditation Chamber
Tags: TK-818 | Maestus | Kyrel Ren

For a moment, the two pair of warriors once again faced each other from across the room. The monks, once serene, breathed heavily, their impassive composure shattered by the stress of the battle and the deaths of their comrades. The one The Mongrel had maimed lay on the floor behind them, trying to breathe through the agony. He could not rise to fight, but he might still be dangerous; his magic remained powerful. On the other side of the chamber, TK-818 and The Mongrel regrouped. Both had taken a beating, but they were far from out of the fight. The Mongrel was experienced in enduring pain, and Sinh drew strength from it, almost reveling in it.

The marauder's broken hand would slow him, though.

The Ren made the next move, reaching out with his dark power and seizing his opponent's skull with an invisible fist. Against any ordinary foe, he probably would have messily pulped her head... but the Fangshi masters knew how to push back against the Force. The fallen monk added his strength to hers, helping her to resist, and though her eyes bulged with the strain she withstood the assault. Still, it served as a distraction, diverting her focus while Sinh charged across the room. His vibroblade might have less reach than his polearm, but it would still serve well to lop off limbs and heads if he could get close. The Mongrel charged at his side, blaster readied.

The monk with the throwing stars let fly again, and The Mongrel hissed in pain and rage as his leg collapsed beneath him, spilling him to the floor mid-run; three of the stars, thrown with Force-guided precision, had embedded themselves in the gaps of his thigh armor, and his muscles had seized. Still, he'd at least gotten closer, and kept the attention of one monk. As he hit the ground, sliding a little further across the polished wood, he made sure that Sinh's path would remain unobstructed... by opening fire on the wounded monk. Even with the Force, his foe's mangled knee would not permit him to dodge. Two blaster bolts to the head finished the job.

The monk Sinh was attacking leapt back, trying to evade his vibroblade swing even as she fought against his dark power - she no longer had support in resisting it, and keeping her skull from crumpling in on itself was no easy feat. She was just barely too slow, and the edge of his blade caught her neck, opening her throat rather than severing her head. With a surprised gurgle-gasp she collapsed to her knees, hands flying to her neck... but they could not stem the flow of blood, nor could they allow her to breathe through her severed windpipe. She would be dead in under a minute, the second to last of them felled by the Maw's mighty warriors.

As the last monk prepared for a final stand, The Mongrel struggled back to his feet, tugging each throwing star from his flesh with a grunt. Soon this would be over... or so it seemed. In the battle with the Fangshi masters, they had been distracted for a moment from their true target, the greatest of them all. The doors of the central meditation chamber flew open, and a black-robed man stepped through. Tall and lean, he was an elegant sculpture of wiry muscle. The air seemed to crackle around him; he was clearly powerful in the ways of magic. This could only be the Fangshi Grand Master, head of the order, the greatest practitioner of what they called The Way.

To the Fangshi Monks, there was no Light Side or Dark Side; there was only The Way, unified so long as they used it with calm and disciplined hearts. The Grand Master understood this, and understood the danger to his temple. He had left the bodies of some two dozen marauders behind him, breaking them apart with his power and his mastery of martial arts. So long as he lived, he would not allow the Fangshi to fall. Seeingn Sinh and The Mongrel, he unleashed his arts once again. Lightning flew from his fingertips, slamming into The Mongrel and lifting him from his feet. The marauder screamed in pain as he flew back across the room, his flesh smoking.

Pain flooded his senses... but he could not submit. He would destroy this powerful foe, and he would gain glory for it in the eyes of the Avatars. As The Mongrel struggled to rise, steam still curling up from his blackened armor, the Grand Master turned on Sinh. The remaining Master monk came to his side, and both of them combined their power, lashing out with a powerful telekinetic push designed to fling the Ren back... or simply to crush him. This would be a fight against long odds indeed, and with Maestus distracted elsewhere, the Brotherhood warriors would have to give everything they had just to survive... unless the warlord could come to their aid.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Guangzuishan, Outskirts
Tags: Open

Guangzuishan burned. Twenty thousand Kagan-Jin riders poured through the ruins of its gates, the first time the marauder horsemen had ever set foot within the trade city's mighty walls. The city's security forces fought back valiantly, creating roadblocks and defensive positions at every intersection, but the momentum of the mounted warriors quickly blew through their lines. Before long they were surrounded, harried through the streets. Some threw aside their uniforms and weapons, trying desperately to blend into the crowds of refugees. Those who did not, or were caught doing so, were swiftly hunted down. Their bodies were hung from the lampposts.

Banks, warehouses, and market stalls were broken open and looted, their spoils seized for the glory of the horde. With the business district pillaged, the riders swept down to the port, swarming over the vessels that hadn't launched in time and plundering their holds. A few watercraft managed to escape, streaming out to sea with holds full of refugees as their homes burned behind them. They would soon discover that they had only delayed the inevitable. The Brotherhood would soon rule all of Tiantang, and the population would either submit or die, no matter how far they tried to flee. This was the edge of the galaxy, and the planet was beyond any kind of help or rescue.

By the time the port was conquered, large parts of the horde had broken off, stalking the streets in small groups to take slaves and loot individual businesses. Enough remained under Ogedei's command, however, that they could surround the governor's palace, the final bastion of order in Guangzuishan. It would not remain so for long. The ornate palace stood on a hill, its gilded pagodas shining in the afternoon sun... and the reflected firelight of the burning city all around it. The last of the city's security forces fired down the hillside, trying desperately to hold back the onrushing tide of howling warriors. They knew that they could not possibly hold out for long.

But they also still had hope; the governor's personal shuttle sat on the launchpad at the rear of the palace complex, loaded up with household staff and precious heirlooms. The security officers had been told that those who fought most valiantly would have a place on that shuttle. They could not know that the terrified governor had no intention of waiting around long enough to find out who the most valiant were. At the bottom of the hill, advancing alongside his warriors, Ogedei Khaan howled in frustration as the shuttle began to lift off, ferrying the politican toward safety. Tu'teggacha's facial tendrils drifted into a grisly approximation of a smile at the sight.

It was time for another demonstration of the Brotherhood's power.

At the Taskmaster's command, ion cannon fire streaked down from orbit, precision-targeting the shuttle before it could fully lift off from the landing pad. The small starship listed sideways as its engines sputtered and died, then collapsed back to the ground, half-overturned by its struggling thrusters. "We promised all of Guangzuishan to you, Great Khaan," the Ebruchi said, watching the stunned Ogedei's reaction. "We will not allow any part of it to escape you." Warriors closed in, cutting through the last of the security forces so that they could wrench open the shuttle doors and drag the governor out. The City of Silken Wonders had utterly fallen.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Alars Keto​

As Kryll led the Bloodsworn forward, Zachariel interrogated his prisoner, digging deep into the mind of the soldier. He found the information he needed, and it proved to be worthwhile. According to the broken man's mind, the Emperor was not one to simply let his subjects be slaughtered. He would usually fight alongside his men, so him not appearing yet scared the soldiers, it even shook the knights. Grinning savagely, Zachariel dropped the broken soldier and rose to his full height, sweeping his gaze forward to observe the front.

Leaving some marauders to take the prisoners away, Zachariel advanced towards the fighting, appraising the situation quickly. It seems Kryll had done well, and was even now leading from the front. To Zachariel, this was good, as a true warrior leads from the front. And even as he came closer, the Brotherhood swarmed into the Grand Foyer, pushing the defenders further and further back. Laughing as his Bloodsworn cut into the defenders, Zachariel chose to add his own fire into the fray, planting several deadly bolts into the skulls of various targets.

They fell and died, and it was all they could do. Some retreated slowly, buying time for their allies, others simply broke and ran, seeking solace in the innermost part of the palace, right in the Emperor's own throne room. As it was, the doors were open just a crack, allowing a small but steady stream of defenders to flee into the most secure room. Yet, there was still no sign of the Emperor, and only a handful of knights were out and about. Allowing his powers in the Force to seep into the minds of the defenders, Zachariel raised his voice above the din of battle.

"Loyal defenders of the realm, why do you still fight? Your Emperor has abandoned you, left you to die alone! There are no elite knights standing by your side, no leaders to rally behind. All that awaits is death!" Many faltered at that, looking about in a panic, the irrational fear seeded in their minds taking hold. What made it worse was it was true, their Emperor didn't stand with them, and what few knights were there were being pushed back. Their hope was at a breaking point, it just needed a push. "I offer an alternative loyal defenders! Throw down your weapons now and you will live, your lives won't be wasted by an uncaring Emperor. Surrender to me now, and I offer you the chance to become greater than your wildest imaginations! Lay down your weapons and your lives and future are assured!"

With a final push of Force application, half the defenders mind's were broken. They threw their weapons down, some of the more broken turned on their comrades. This brought a new cheer from the Bloodsworn, who pressed forward even more. They would capture whoever surrendered, but those who still fought would be slaughtered. This breaking point prompted the closing of the doors leading towards the throne room. No doubt they were already setting up final defenses now, in a last, futile bid to save themselves and their Emperor. It only served to amuse Zachariel, even as the battle continued to rage. Soon this would be finished and then the true and final fight could begin. Laughing madly as more blood was spilled in his name, Zachariel roared to the heavens.
"KILL, MAIM, BURN THEM ALL!"

 

[Alars Keto]

Kryll continued to move, rallying the bloodthirsty horde of Bloodsworn forward. Heads were removed, bodies splintered with holes, most of all prisoners taken away kicking and screaming to be molded by Tu'teggacha into new slave-soldiers. The Brotherhood spread through the palace like a plague and washed away all that defied them.

The Grand Foyer was falling. As the Warlord of the mighty Bloodsworn stepped forth, Kryll followed his lead. He felt the intricacies of the empyrean touch him and spread over the area, the same ‘feeling’ from before. He ignored it the best he could as @Zachariel Steelblood’s powers in the Force spread forth into the minds of the defenders, Zachariel raised his voice above the din of battle.

"Loyal defenders of the realm, why do you still fight? Your Emperor has abandoned you, left you to die alone! There are no elite knights standing by your side, no leaders to rally behind. All that awaits is death!"

So it was the weak began to falter, how pitiful. Yet he could not blame them, there was no hope only death remained for those who stayed. With a push, the valiant began to buckle as well.

"I offer an alternative loyal defenders! Throw down your weapons now and you will live, your lives won't be wasted by an uncaring Emperor. Surrender to me now, and I offer you the chance to become greater than your wildest imaginations! Lay down your weapons and your lives and future are assured!"

With a final push of Force application, half the defenders mind's were broken. They threw their weapons down, some of the more broken turned on their comrades. Kryll was shocked and astounded, mouth dropping at the power the Warlord held as the doors to the Throne Room closed firmly.

Kryll snapped his attention forward, his eyes narrowing in disgust for the cowardly ruler who hid behind closed doors. Glory awaited them, he charged with a roar matched only by the overarching battle cry of the Warlord.

"KILL, MAIM, BURN THEM ALL!"

“Frags!”

The door shattered, the Emperor revealed on his lofty throne. Only the strongest of knights would remain along with powerful guardians of the Emperor.

Zachariel Steelblood

 

[TK-818]

Objective 3: Pillage the Monastery
Location: Fangshi-Da Temple
Tags: The Mongrel


The pair of MAW warriors regrouped together once more, surrounded by their enemy. These were no easy prey but worthy foes in their own right. If they could not champion this by themselves than their only hope would lie with the arrival of Maestus , the Warlord of the Chosen.

He could feel the Mongrel’s pain radiating outward yet saw no weakness in his resolve, no. It was almost as if looking into a predator’s eyes with the intent to kill so heavy upon his heart. The adrenaline and fear of death fueling their savage longing to snuff out the Fangshi monks.

When Sinh made his next move, reaching out to seize the monk’s skull with an invisible force as he closed his fist, he was rebuked. The Fangshi master pushed back against him through the Force in an open challenge, resisting his death blow to his ever building anger. Anxiously struggling, he felt the wave of power extend from another monk in aid of his ally. The Ren struggled harshly as he rushed in for the kill, determined to ending her once and for all.

The Mongrel charged at his side, blaster readied. The MAW boys would see victory this day or die trying.

The Mongrel faltered behind as the enemy struck, his attention swaying only for a moment as the Mawite warrior kept the Ren’s path unobstructed. His opponent before him leapt back, evading the majority of the blade but where it counted.. the edge.

Her throat opened as she gasped and clutched on for dear life as The Mongrel delivered the killing blow to his foe. Song’s for collapsed before him, drowning in futility.

The last monk prepared for them, the Mongrel raising to his feet and the Knight of Ren moving to join beside him. That’s when the doors opened with forceful resolve, the Old Man had come to join the fray. Head of the Fangshi, the Grandmaster stepped before them as the Knight of Ren tensed in preparation.

He could feel the power stemming from him, the greatest challenge they had to face. Doubt nearly crept in before the Knight of Ren shook it away with dark grimace. The bodies of two dozen marauders lay in his wake, a token of his true power. The Knight of Ren let loose his anger but too late as the Grandmaster unleashed a barrage of lightning upon them, slamming into the Mongrel. Smoke rolling from his chest as he was lifted back and slammed down onto the ground.

The Ren snarled and moved but was snatched off his feet before he could move further by the combined power of the final monk and his master. His body flung back into the wall and suspended midair in a blood curling roar of pain echoing from his vocabulator.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: 1
Tags: Alars Keto​

Across the palace they came, marauders of the Brotherhood swarmed the halls and slaughtered the defenders. They weren't without their own losses, but it was a small drop in the ocean of warriors they could call upon. Ultimately it mattered little, for the defenders could only hold for so long, before they died. And die they did, constantly and pitifully. Thus Zachariel and his warband arrived at the final room before the throne room, gave his decree, and drank deep of the despair the defenders gave off. Those few that had retained their sanity died soon enough, the rest were captured, to be shipped off later.

Now though, now was the time to storm the inner keep, slay the Emperor, and gain new glory. The final obstacle was destroyed and grenades were thrown out, deep into the throne room. Mixtures of flash bangs and regular detonators exploded, and then they advanced. Those with shields or those who believed they were blessed enough to survive. And it mattered little, all who advanced were cut down like chaff. Clearly the defenders had heavy weapons at their disposal, something to make this more of a challenge.

It only made Zachariel grin, who looked over his shoulder and gave a piercing whistle. Soon enough his Chosen appeared, clad in hulking armor in imitation of their lord and master. They wielded heavy melee weapons, along with shields of greater build than what the rabble had. Though they weren't as imposing as Zachariel, they still had a presence, and it was easy to see they were his Chosen. The masses of marauders parted before them, reverence and envy in equal parts coursing through them. Each of the marauders wanted to be amongst the Chosen, for they were the best the Bloodsworn had to offer, aside from the lieutenants of course.

Zachariel smiled at their advance, even as more marauders rushed forward, hoping for a difference now. Nothing changed, and by this point the doorway was filled with blaster bolts, preventing all but the most suicidal from attempting anything. But even they stopped as the Chosen of Zachariel advanced, hefting shields capable of withstanding most anything, and wearing armor seeking to be as impenetrable as Zachariel's. Forming into a shield wall, the Chosen didn't stop, all dozen of them forming several layers of a wall and advancing.

They marched into the throne room, taking the fire directed at them and shrugging it off. More fire was directed at them and this gave an opening. Motioning with his sword, the marauders charged forward. Immediately they spread out, moving to either side of the Chosen formation and rushing forward. This forced the fire to divert and it allowed the Chosen to pick up speed. Their opposites were the elite knights, a quarter of which were the knights that had survived the initial onslaught. And at the center of their formation was the Emperor, having finally been revealed.

The Emperor wore finely detailed armor, that fit for an Emperor. It was also clearly very advanced, incorporating so far unknown technologies. In his hands he carried an ornate long sword, one already alight with flames, while his forearms bore wrist blasters. Clearly he wasn't just a backworld Emperor, but had received that armor from some strong backers, or had it passed down from a better time. It all mattered little to Zachariel, the man and his entourage would die soon. Advancing into the room, Zachariel laughed as his marauders and the soldiers engaged one another. Before him the Chosen slammed into the line of knights, both sides fighting with a fury yet unseen.

Zachariel himself advanced at a sedate pace, chuckling as his eyes never wavered from the Emperor. The Emperor himself advanced forward, obviously knowing Zachariel was the warlord of these marauders, and hoping somehow to stop him.Directing his sword towards the man, Zachariel called out to him with a dark laugh
"Your still screaming skull will soon adorn my pauldron!" All around battle raged, and at the center the two leaders were soon to meet, one utterly mad with bloodlust, the other hoping for a worthy end or an underdog victory. Regardless of the reasons, blood would be spilled.

 

[Alars Keto]

The Throne Room erupted in fire and disorientating flashes as the Bloodsworn marched forth with the intention to usurp an emperor and end a dynasty. The Brotherhood advanced without respite or mercy, their bloodthirsty battle cries flooding the chamber in a tidal wave of horror. The Defenders knew this was their last stand and had seen a glimpse of what befell those who were spared the blade. Death would be a mercy, even so scant as a brutal death one would have at the hands of the MAW.

Kryll watched the Warlord govern the final stages of the palace takeover with watchful eyes, studying his tactics to better himself as a commander. The battle was already decided, yet the hammer blow was delivered in the form of the marching Chosen of Zachariel Steelblood . Armored and adorned in mimicry of their Dark Master, the Chosen cut a bloody seath through the sea of battle. Moving their testudo onward they approached the very throne with bloody recourse.

The Emperor was revealed to them, the greatest of defenders moving to counter the Chosen. Kryll watched anxiously at what move the savage Lord of Osseriton would play. Adorned in brilliant armor of advancements unseen to the vast many of his own people, the Emperor was ready for battle despite not being of the capable warriors that were among the Kagan-Jin. Kryll realized the man must of accepted his fate, charging head on knowing the ending. That was honorable.

Kryll roared as the two leaders came to blows, he himself leapt into the fray and aided the Chosen as Zachariel Steelblood and the Emperor engaged. “Kill them all!”

Zachariel Steelblood