THE UNDEFEATED
Location: Capital City, headed toward Palace
Units: Crusader Drones [Also referred to as the Horde] | Section Commanders | Twelve Brutes
Objective: Advertise
Enemies: Everyone | [member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Primat Ren"] | others?
Closest Proximity: [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Commenori soil had a strange quality to it. It was copious but brittle. Yet when you allowed it to part between your fingers it would fall in thickened chunks, as if clumped together by humidity or the rain of the air. Tathra felt as much as the dirt clumped onto the ground unnatural at his feet. His eyes, engulfed with flame rose to the sky as the streets of the Capital City came into a thick concentration of buildings and small gates, in the middle of them was an ordained palace.
It had been some fifty years since he'd last been here, much had changed. Yet, so much was the same. Greater or small, the commenori people were also in some place of strife and turmoil. This particular circumstance was greater than any past famine he'd observed. And war was a famine to be sure. The famine of life, of the youth that builds these worlds up to the memories of those that came before.
War was a waste of blood, but a ugly truth of the Galaxy was that many a thing was just that, a waste. You had to find your own meaning. And that he had. For some time the Bryn'adûl had been under his guise. But now, would be their first steps into a larger world. The gargantuan titan had no ties to this planet or its people. None that mattered. He had no steak in their squabbles, yet all the world was a stage and tonight he would be performing.
The Galaxy would know the face of the Bryn'adûl and the malice of Khaeus.
"[Dravalan]: Commanders, follow the main directive. Move through the buildings with your units clearing each area. Wipe out anything in your path, I will create an entrance to the Palace, then you will follow. Brutes, with me."
Tathra and twelve Brutes moved with haste through the barren and battle-scarred streets of the Capital City. There were distant sounds of blaster fire, the calming sound of ships soaring through the air as a hundred dog fights commenced in the sky. The thirteen met little resistance of note as they moved toward the Palace, carving a more direct route whilst the Horde moved through the city on their tail.
There was a faint sound of something speeding toward their direction, no doubt with the mutual objective of reaching the Palace.
"[Dravalan]: Steady, weapons primed."
Immediately the Brutes moved for the sides of the cities open street, Tathra stood in the centre; his Mace sliding into hand. Waiting.
As soon as one of the Brutes caught a glimpse, it was clear it was Swoop Bikes. Tathra barked as his Brutes opened fire at the passing swoop Bikes, cutting down two with their heavy blasters. The gargantuan titan hefted his Mace as he leapt to the side, dodging one as it zoomed past; his massive Mace crushing the front of the swoop bike and sending its driver hurdling over and breaking her neck.
Units: Crusader Drones [Also referred to as the Horde] | Section Commanders | Twelve Brutes
Objective: Advertise
Enemies: Everyone | [member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Primat Ren"] | others?
Closest Proximity: [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Commenori soil had a strange quality to it. It was copious but brittle. Yet when you allowed it to part between your fingers it would fall in thickened chunks, as if clumped together by humidity or the rain of the air. Tathra felt as much as the dirt clumped onto the ground unnatural at his feet. His eyes, engulfed with flame rose to the sky as the streets of the Capital City came into a thick concentration of buildings and small gates, in the middle of them was an ordained palace.
It had been some fifty years since he'd last been here, much had changed. Yet, so much was the same. Greater or small, the commenori people were also in some place of strife and turmoil. This particular circumstance was greater than any past famine he'd observed. And war was a famine to be sure. The famine of life, of the youth that builds these worlds up to the memories of those that came before.
War was a waste of blood, but a ugly truth of the Galaxy was that many a thing was just that, a waste. You had to find your own meaning. And that he had. For some time the Bryn'adûl had been under his guise. But now, would be their first steps into a larger world. The gargantuan titan had no ties to this planet or its people. None that mattered. He had no steak in their squabbles, yet all the world was a stage and tonight he would be performing.
The Galaxy would know the face of the Bryn'adûl and the malice of Khaeus.
"[Dravalan]: Commanders, follow the main directive. Move through the buildings with your units clearing each area. Wipe out anything in your path, I will create an entrance to the Palace, then you will follow. Brutes, with me."
Tathra and twelve Brutes moved with haste through the barren and battle-scarred streets of the Capital City. There were distant sounds of blaster fire, the calming sound of ships soaring through the air as a hundred dog fights commenced in the sky. The thirteen met little resistance of note as they moved toward the Palace, carving a more direct route whilst the Horde moved through the city on their tail.
There was a faint sound of something speeding toward their direction, no doubt with the mutual objective of reaching the Palace.
"[Dravalan]: Steady, weapons primed."
Immediately the Brutes moved for the sides of the cities open street, Tathra stood in the centre; his Mace sliding into hand. Waiting.
As soon as one of the Brutes caught a glimpse, it was clear it was Swoop Bikes. Tathra barked as his Brutes opened fire at the passing swoop Bikes, cutting down two with their heavy blasters. The gargantuan titan hefted his Mace as he leapt to the side, dodging one as it zoomed past; his massive Mace crushing the front of the swoop bike and sending its driver hurdling over and breaking her neck.