"Omen of Durace"
8th post
Northern Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autum of 876 ABY)
The faceless saviours had kept the Bloodhound in the fight, and despite the close-calls and near-misses he encountered in the moments following the moments the lines initially clashed, Thomas had been able to gain enough breathing room to seek out the others, able to ascertain their whereabouts as soon as he was able to climb up onto No-Man's-Land and look back to the fight as it unfolded. Ghoul and Nail were holding their own remarkably, especially in light of the sheer weight of dead on either side of the struggle, and in that moment Thomas couldn't help but admire what the young Zabrak had been able to achieve on his first proper outing as a Scar Hound. It gave Barran comfort knowing he wasn't the only one doing well for their first fully-involved battle deployment, and in looking over to Runar and Spindly, the Bloodhound found himself laughing with a joy he never thought he'd feel in such a deathly, stinking setting.
A joy that felt similar to that which Thomas felt every time he heard the voice of his darling Rebirth.
'THATS HOW ITS DONE, SCAR HOUNDS!!!! WE BLEED THEM HERE - THE HILL THEY CHOSE TO DIE ON!!!!'
That same nagging sense, specific and sobering though it was, would still drive the Bloodhound to ponder on the fight that was yet to happen, a fight Barran felt would take an age to conclude. There was no doubt the Sabretooth-Troopers and Hellion mercenaries had dug in admirably, offering several lines of defence in the event the Mawites eventually crested the ridge to the north, and with the application of the faux-first trenchline taking more than enough Mawsworn warriors out with it, Thomas couldn't help but turn to see if there was a particular face among those in the distance who could have orchestrated such a strategy. But then the second-defensive line adopted offensive-posture, reading the thinning of the true-first trenchline's defenders as a sign the fight was growing more desperate than they had first thought, or as a sign that they had all the room they needed to break the Bloodhound's all-or-nothing charge for glory.
And like a rushing tide, the uniform-armoured mass came rushing over the top and deep into no-man's-land, sprinting forth towards the melee with vibrobayonets fixed, led by a tall, golden-eyed Sith Pureblood. The hulking Sith Pureblood's piercing stare was fixed solely on the one-eyed Woad's position, bearing down on him with pistol drawn as he roared,'MAWITE!', to get Barran's attention, answering the question in the Bloodhound's mind as his officer's pistol let loose with it's first shot. Fortunately for Thomas, the Flak Jacket was more than willing to take the punishment without damaging anything internally in the process, though it wouldn't matter much to Barran in these moments, as the force of impact against the flak-jacket had provided something akin to a liver-punch - with the follow-up second cracking a rib on the left side of his abdomen.
'OOOOOoooooo..... That's near point-blank range, the cheeky little-'
'You better be worth today's struggle!'
Hmmm.... Maybe I was too harsh, perhaps this one isn't so insufferable after all.
Laughing in response as he made a show of sheathing the Aethysian Romphaia, Barran responded,'Likewise! But first, tell me your name - an' perhaps I might tell you mine!', deciding there and then that he would join this Mercenary Captain in a pistols-and-blades CQC duel on this occasion. With a simple snatching motion, the old Fairbairn he found on Mar'Zambuul was drawn with blade facing downward, jutting out in all it's blackened glory whilst the Bloodhound drew his pistol to meet the duel's stipulations in the middle, playing his part in the spirit of fighting for a fair, clear victory over the Sith Pureblood challenging him so brazenly. Then, after setting his stance, Thomas concluded,'After all it is only proper with duels of this nature, even for madmen such as you and I!', adopting a southpaw stance in consideration of the eye he no longer possessed, still stinging with the pain of the same blade that Thomas held in the grip of his right hand.
NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART FIFTEEN
Mt. Firthwatch, West of the Akar Kesh,
Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autumn of 876 ABY)
I see now why you unleashed your monsters first.
A brave request, but it served you well.
Troubling though the voice was to hear, the tone had certainly calmed in comparison to that which had invaded their minds before, a particular blessing of which the Tri-Lunars in observance were all too happy to take solace from. From this, Caz was safe in his assumption to respond,'My thanks, though I also express my apologies for the brief impertinence regardless. I do not know the proper decorum for encounters like this, though I promise to be wiser going forward.', gratefully nodding his kindness before turning back to the unfolding scene of madness in the Flesh Raider Grounds below. All those bearing witness from the many tops of Mt. Firthwatch could see the mayhem the Mineheel Firm had unleashed on the peoples and monsters below, seeing with ease the agitation and fearful reaction of the Flesh Raiders and all the other beasts in the area as they fled and flailed their way south or eastward, bringing about chaos of the likes they never thought possible.
'Avatars be praised.... It was already madness down there before, but now? Heh! We'll be drawing envy from all directions after this, Caz. Though I'm sure you know this to be true already.'
'Oh, well.... The battle appears to be going much easier for the friendlies on our flank, or at least, in comparison to all who came here with us anyway. Those in the center and on the right flank are having a much tougher time of it, though most of us have anticipated this before the fact.'
Satisfied with the candour, and the open nature of Rook's behaviour, the Entity's head turned back to draw her gaze to the bloody madness below again, proving every part as receptive to reserved behaviours as she was to pertinent information. And for as long as the powerless trio felt safe around her, they would be clueless as to how well-protected they would be in making such a choice, as the celestial observer was silently obscuring every last one of the tanks, their crewmen and commander from view of the tormented ones below, though only for as long as they persisted in staying there with the faceless Entity; persisting in observations of the likes they had never experienced before, and were unlikely to experience ever again, or so the three Scar Hound commanders thought. None among them could say what designs the Eternal had on their corporeal playing-pieces, and with this glaring reality conceptually impeding their comprehension of Divine Favour, the powerless trio would have no choice but to acquiesce either way.
'They don't know we're up here, do they?'
Dreamer bowed his head with sincerity and gratitude in answer, finding himself somewhat relieved that the Entity was choosing to look kindly on those who held the mountain, favouring one element over the misfortunate other in a quiet newfound preference to those who acquitted themselves properly in her presence. Whatever the mortal trio were doing right, they had been doing so from the offset, whether it be lack of rudeness or inappropriate behaviour, the acknowledgement of the Entity's existence, or the fact they were quiet enough throughout, it was still painfully obvious to the mortals that there was no way of knowing how or why. All they could do was go along with whatever was happening, all they could do was express gratitude for the small gesture of protection over them, as there was no official or divine decree to bind them or obligate them in any way to adhere, only that they watch the battle unfold with her - shielded in the strange reverie.
'Thank you for that, but I fear this particular addition will not be necessary for long.'
Intense heat would pulsate a few times before it dissipated again, a flush of celestial rage, such that would remain despite the Entity's effort to suppress it, a rage of which Rook knew he was wrong to incur, but one the outspoken Tri-Lunar had no choice but to bring out in the attempt to make a play that would ultimately turn the tide on the Mawite left flank. If he could convince the Entity that this was the right choice to make, then countless Scar Hounds, Burned Legion Troopers and Mawsworn of every variety would survive to fight another day. And though the sacrifice rune was smeared on everyone who fought for Solipsis, there was the hope that such gestures would prove pointless in the event of a staggering victory over Jedi and Imperial alike, not that it would amount to much, though the Scar Hounds were willing to take their successes whenever and wherever they could carve any out for themselves.
Anything they could learn from, anything they could improve on - this was the way of Mar'Zambuul.
'I sincerely apologise, but in a few moments, I would like our enemies to feel the terror of seeing tank barrages adding to the mayhem we instigated a while ago.'
From the calmness of the voice, he could tell the worst of the anger had subsided, though Rook would be taking no chances. Turning to face her, Rook proffered,'We are of the same mind then, but if this succeeds, we may yet walk down into the valley together.... We can see all the strange wonders up close, and I am sure my associates would be willing to join us if you choose to accept.', just moments before an array of strange blue lights flashed into life. All around the Temple Valley, the goading spirits of the righteous were appearing at the shoulders of the loved ones who still remained to fight on in their absence. And in being unable to discern whether it would help the planet's defenders' efforts or not would leave Rook with no other choice but to try his luck anyway, the Branchlurkers were expected to die before long, so the aimless coverage of grid-space with firepower would come at no great cost to the mechanised units resting in the shadow of Akar Kesh.
'We have ourselves a deal then.... Just a moment, please.'
OPERATION: SHATTERPOINT
From the header to the template, it's all amazing work! Thank you very much, Nef! Scar Hounds are rollin' out in the DRIP now!
THE ANNIHILATION OF TYTHON
Objective 1: ATTACK EVERYTHING!!!!
Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"
ANOINTED ACOLYTE OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
Allies (BOTM/NSO): Darth Solipsis The Mongrel Keilara Kala'myr
Shai Maji Ardana Vorco Erion Justeene Darth Saevius Ronar Scylla AI
Enemies (NIO/Enclave/NJO): Rose Dorce Hall Mannarra Asanté Tsilor Ishida Ashina
Bex Tarring Aerys Myrrine Ollis Barran Jas Katis Julian Qar Annor E-059
Saul Vandron Tulan Kor Asmus Omaand Alessandra Io Kal Caltin Vanagor Rex Valhoun
Loadout
Protection/Equipment
Beskar Brodie-Helm
Free-State Surplus Gas-Mask
2nd-Gen Galidraani SF Combat Webbing
Free-State Surplus Flak Jacket
Hipflask (Mineheel Moonshine)
Weaponry/Explosives
SA-35 Heavy Blaster Rifle
AP-25i "SIMP" Particle-Beam Blaster Pistol
Beskar Romphaia
Old Fairbairn Vibrodagger
X3 Incendiary Grenades
X2 Flashbangs
X3 Tetan Mastiffs
X5 Repurposed Valdr Skær-Pattern Dual-Role Droids
Scar Hound Array
X1 Scavenged Goliath Main Battle Tank
X50 SHT-66 "Malm-hrið" Heavy Battle Droids
X100 SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bikes
X75 Scavenged XT-62 "Cataphract" Main Battle Tanks
X20 Branchlurkers
X300 Moon Children
NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART FOURTEEN
The Summit of Mt. Geran, Eastern Arros Range,From the header to the template, it's all amazing work! Thank you very much, Nef! Scar Hounds are rollin' out in the DRIP now!
THE ANNIHILATION OF TYTHON
Objective 1: ATTACK EVERYTHING!!!!
Thomas Barran
"The Bloodhound"
ANOINTED ACOLYTE OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
Allies (BOTM/NSO): Darth Solipsis The Mongrel Keilara Kala'myr
Shai Maji Ardana Vorco Erion Justeene Darth Saevius Ronar Scylla AI
Enemies (NIO/Enclave/NJO): Rose Dorce Hall Mannarra Asanté Tsilor Ishida Ashina
Bex Tarring Aerys Myrrine Ollis Barran Jas Katis Julian Qar Annor E-059
Saul Vandron Tulan Kor Asmus Omaand Alessandra Io Kal Caltin Vanagor Rex Valhoun
Loadout
Protection/Equipment
Beskar Brodie-Helm
Free-State Surplus Gas-Mask
2nd-Gen Galidraani SF Combat Webbing
Free-State Surplus Flak Jacket
Hipflask (Mineheel Moonshine)
Weaponry/Explosives
SA-35 Heavy Blaster Rifle
AP-25i "SIMP" Particle-Beam Blaster Pistol
Beskar Romphaia
Old Fairbairn Vibrodagger
X3 Incendiary Grenades
X2 Flashbangs
X3 Tetan Mastiffs
X5 Repurposed Valdr Skær-Pattern Dual-Role Droids
Scar Hound Array
X1 Scavenged Goliath Main Battle Tank
X50 SHT-66 "Malm-hrið" Heavy Battle Droids
X100 SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bikes
X75 Scavenged XT-62 "Cataphract" Main Battle Tanks
X20 Branchlurkers
X300 Moon Children
NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART FOURTEEN
Northern Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autum of 876 ABY)
So this is why so many put such stock in the warfighting as it occurs.
So much is learned in such short intervals compared to the months and years of training.
I mean, just look at them go.... Nothing impeding them now.
So much is learned in such short intervals compared to the months and years of training.
I mean, just look at them go.... Nothing impeding them now.
The faceless saviours had kept the Bloodhound in the fight, and despite the close-calls and near-misses he encountered in the moments following the moments the lines initially clashed, Thomas had been able to gain enough breathing room to seek out the others, able to ascertain their whereabouts as soon as he was able to climb up onto No-Man's-Land and look back to the fight as it unfolded. Ghoul and Nail were holding their own remarkably, especially in light of the sheer weight of dead on either side of the struggle, and in that moment Thomas couldn't help but admire what the young Zabrak had been able to achieve on his first proper outing as a Scar Hound. It gave Barran comfort knowing he wasn't the only one doing well for their first fully-involved battle deployment, and in looking over to Runar and Spindly, the Bloodhound found himself laughing with a joy he never thought he'd feel in such a deathly, stinking setting.
A joy that felt similar to that which Thomas felt every time he heard the voice of his darling Rebirth.
These are faces that shine brighter now than the others ever have.
In all this time, and in all the good they've done so far.
The two latest additions to the Tri-Lunar Clique, as fresh as they were on the mind of the Bloodhound, were proving every part as worthy as their 1st-Gen colleagues, still throwing their weight behind every attack without fatigue or fear to be seen in either of them. This truly was where they belonged, just like Thomas believed of himself, but the one-eyed Woad knew he would need to work harder to keep them alive to fight again like this, a worthy task for any Warlord with interests in the long-game. He needed fearless warriors for the madness, the destruction and the ever-quickening cycle they all fervently tried to maintain, fearless forces of nature who could stand stand the test of time; and though Thomas held a special disdain for time and it's cruel urge to stagnate and fester, he knew that there were more designs around him at play than he could ever hope to influence or change completely, giving rise to a nagging need to be prepared for any and every outcome that affected the Scar Hounds.In all this time, and in all the good they've done so far.
'THATS HOW ITS DONE, SCAR HOUNDS!!!! WE BLEED THEM HERE - THE HILL THEY CHOSE TO DIE ON!!!!'
'WE BLEED THEM HERE AND NOW!!!!'
That same nagging sense, specific and sobering though it was, would still drive the Bloodhound to ponder on the fight that was yet to happen, a fight Barran felt would take an age to conclude. There was no doubt the Sabretooth-Troopers and Hellion mercenaries had dug in admirably, offering several lines of defence in the event the Mawites eventually crested the ridge to the north, and with the application of the faux-first trenchline taking more than enough Mawsworn warriors out with it, Thomas couldn't help but turn to see if there was a particular face among those in the distance who could have orchestrated such a strategy. But then the second-defensive line adopted offensive-posture, reading the thinning of the true-first trenchline's defenders as a sign the fight was growing more desperate than they had first thought, or as a sign that they had all the room they needed to break the Bloodhound's all-or-nothing charge for glory.
And like a rushing tide, the uniform-armoured mass came rushing over the top and deep into no-man's-land, sprinting forth towards the melee with vibrobayonets fixed, led by a tall, golden-eyed Sith Pureblood. The hulking Sith Pureblood's piercing stare was fixed solely on the one-eyed Woad's position, bearing down on him with pistol drawn as he roared,'MAWITE!', to get Barran's attention, answering the question in the Bloodhound's mind as his officer's pistol let loose with it's first shot. Fortunately for Thomas, the Flak Jacket was more than willing to take the punishment without damaging anything internally in the process, though it wouldn't matter much to Barran in these moments, as the force of impact against the flak-jacket had provided something akin to a liver-punch - with the follow-up second cracking a rib on the left side of his abdomen.
'OOOOOoooooo..... That's near point-blank range, the cheeky little-'
Interrupted by further shots, though these were aimed at Scar Hounds who were attempting to meet the threat holding the ground between trenchlines, and much to the Bloodhound's great chagrin, many had hit their mark. This individual was certainly fitting the presumption of competence, and by the looks of his heritage, there was no doubt this one would be difficult to overpower, and adding the advantage in height, weight, reach, and stamina, Barran began to understand that this fight for the mountain was stacked in the defenders' favour at every phase. Every angle had been covered in the planning stages, and to such an extent that surprises awaited for every trenchline the Mawites stormed en-masse, forcing impasse or defeat on the very summit Thomas wished to conquer, a true warfighting nightmare to baptize the Mongrel's successor under fire.'You better be worth today's struggle!'
Hmmm.... Maybe I was too harsh, perhaps this one isn't so insufferable after all.
NEXUS OF THE BLOOD-HOUND: SHRIVEN NO MORE - PART FIFTEEN
Temple Valley, Tython (Late-Autumn of 876 ABY)
I see now why you unleashed your monsters first.
A brave request, but it served you well.
'Avatars be praised.... It was already madness down there before, but now? Heh! We'll be drawing envy from all directions after this, Caz. Though I'm sure you know this to be true already.'
How so?
I am curious as to how this could draw the envy of others.
I am curious as to how this could draw the envy of others.
'Oh, well.... The battle appears to be going much easier for the friendlies on our flank, or at least, in comparison to all who came here with us anyway. Those in the center and on the right flank are having a much tougher time of it, though most of us have anticipated this before the fact.'
Satisfied with the candour, and the open nature of Rook's behaviour, the Entity's head turned back to draw her gaze to the bloody madness below again, proving every part as receptive to reserved behaviours as she was to pertinent information. And for as long as the powerless trio felt safe around her, they would be clueless as to how well-protected they would be in making such a choice, as the celestial observer was silently obscuring every last one of the tanks, their crewmen and commander from view of the tormented ones below, though only for as long as they persisted in staying there with the faceless Entity; persisting in observations of the likes they had never experienced before, and were unlikely to experience ever again, or so the three Scar Hound commanders thought. None among them could say what designs the Eternal had on their corporeal playing-pieces, and with this glaring reality conceptually impeding their comprehension of Divine Favour, the powerless trio would have no choice but to acquiesce either way.
'They don't know we're up here, do they?'
And so the quiet one finally speaks.
And this is a correct assumption to make, none can see because I made it so.
And this is a correct assumption to make, none can see because I made it so.
Dreamer bowed his head with sincerity and gratitude in answer, finding himself somewhat relieved that the Entity was choosing to look kindly on those who held the mountain, favouring one element over the misfortunate other in a quiet newfound preference to those who acquitted themselves properly in her presence. Whatever the mortal trio were doing right, they had been doing so from the offset, whether it be lack of rudeness or inappropriate behaviour, the acknowledgement of the Entity's existence, or the fact they were quiet enough throughout, it was still painfully obvious to the mortals that there was no way of knowing how or why. All they could do was go along with whatever was happening, all they could do was express gratitude for the small gesture of protection over them, as there was no official or divine decree to bind them or obligate them in any way to adhere, only that they watch the battle unfold with her - shielded in the strange reverie.
None can see any of your war-machines either.
'Thank you for that, but I fear this particular addition will not be necessary for long.'
Intense heat would pulsate a few times before it dissipated again, a flush of celestial rage, such that would remain despite the Entity's effort to suppress it, a rage of which Rook knew he was wrong to incur, but one the outspoken Tri-Lunar had no choice but to bring out in the attempt to make a play that would ultimately turn the tide on the Mawite left flank. If he could convince the Entity that this was the right choice to make, then countless Scar Hounds, Burned Legion Troopers and Mawsworn of every variety would survive to fight another day. And though the sacrifice rune was smeared on everyone who fought for Solipsis, there was the hope that such gestures would prove pointless in the event of a staggering victory over Jedi and Imperial alike, not that it would amount to much, though the Scar Hounds were willing to take their successes whenever and wherever they could carve any out for themselves.
Anything they could learn from, anything they could improve on - this was the way of Mar'Zambuul.
'I sincerely apologise, but in a few moments, I would like our enemies to feel the terror of seeing tank barrages adding to the mayhem we instigated a while ago.'
I hope for your sake that it works.
From the calmness of the voice, he could tell the worst of the anger had subsided, though Rook would be taking no chances. Turning to face her, Rook proffered,'We are of the same mind then, but if this succeeds, we may yet walk down into the valley together.... We can see all the strange wonders up close, and I am sure my associates would be willing to join us if you choose to accept.', just moments before an array of strange blue lights flashed into life. All around the Temple Valley, the goading spirits of the righteous were appearing at the shoulders of the loved ones who still remained to fight on in their absence. And in being unable to discern whether it would help the planet's defenders' efforts or not would leave Rook with no other choice but to try his luck anyway, the Branchlurkers were expected to die before long, so the aimless coverage of grid-space with firepower would come at no great cost to the mechanised units resting in the shadow of Akar Kesh.
If you succeed, I accept.
If you fail, I leave.
If you fail, I leave.
'We have ourselves a deal then.... Just a moment, please.'
<"All marked units, this is Rook. Load those idled HE-shells the Imperials love to punish us with, I have a statement to make.... Aim into the valley, indiscriminately - FIRE AT WILL!!!!">
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