Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Asteroid Ambush | Dominion of Empty Hex

[Primal Architect]

The Bryn'adûl | Asteroid Ambush | Dominion of Empty Hex

Drawn to a repeating signal in the far reaches of the galaxy, the Draelvasier dispatched a contingent of mighty Baedurin, wise Aeravalin, and cunning Sraelvun in order to determine both the origin and the nature of the ghostly call. Pinpointed to a massive asteroid several miles in length and width, they were shocked to discover that the strange chunk of stone and minerals had been internally renovated by some unseen force.

The atmosphere within the rock was akin to that found on many terrestrial habitable worlds, but there was surprisingly little in the way of machinery or devices to be located. The signal still emanated from further into the rock, and squad after squad was dispatched to locate the source, and discover its origin. Deeper and deeper they strode into the abyss until only the lights they'd brought with them could be seen. Scattered into several groups for better exploration, and unaware of any threats within the asteroid, they were stricken with surprise when the very stone began to shake and shudder -- tunnels collapsed, Drael were crushed by tons of rock and debris, and vicious calls began to echo through the tunnels.

Most squads are at least a mile from the Conquester that brought them to this pit, carrying injured companions through the cavernous tunnels, and now being harried from all angles by a series of highly aggressive enemy combatants whose relative lack of heat is making it difficult to locate and fight them. Perhaps the only positive news to come of this situation is that the signal's origin was supposedly located before communication became all but impossible -- it appears the mighty Bryn'adûl have stumbled upon a tomb, and their trespassing has awoken its defence protocols.

A - Bad Air - A sudden spike in radiation levels was detected following the sudden shift in the asteroid. It seems extremely likely that an ancient thermonuclear reactor has been damaged, and that it is now leaking deathly toxins throughout many of the Southern asteroid tunnels. If the Draelvasier here wish to survive, they'll need to find a way to dispose of this archaic machine before the entirety of the South has been radiated.

B - Cursed Tomb - They are coming out of the walls -- from hidden passages we can barely register before they've struck. Exceptionally acrobatic, and stealthy machines have been dispatched to eliminate all intruders. The North and Western tunnels are being harried the most heavily by these vile automatons. It is a two-mile walk to the evacuation point, and every second step is likely to be interrupted by a new wave of these tomb guardians.

C - Trapped - The passages of the East were hit hardest by the sudden quake which ripped through the asteroid. Dozens of these tunnels have collapsed and in the process managed to separate several squads worth of Draelvasier. Tons of rock and debris separate you from escape -- unless you're willing to crawl through a mile through a foot-long crawlspace, or you plan on shifting more stones; and likely dropping more in the process. Waiting for help seems the obvious answer, but the air is thin, and these blocked passages are only making it thinner.

Spoiler: Tag List

- Galak | Phantrx | Sylok'Vanari | Keldothera | Primarch Drek'ma | Gordrak | Krarolk T'manu | Vertask | Tathra Khaeus | Sethrak | Kelmor | Amunra Khaeus | Ostak Cl'mana | Badar |

 

[Sethrak]

Spoiler

Tathra Khaeus Galak Primarch Drek'ma Keldothera Ostak Cl'mana Osam Krarolk T'manu

Post 1
Objective: B

Sethrak's pulse increased as the rumbling slowed, leaving clouds of dust. He couldn't see much but it was obvious that something had collapsed. He squinted, as dust constricted his breathing and stung his eyes. Slowly the cloud cleared, revealing the damage. Several sections of tunnels and walls had collapsed. The tunnel ahead of Sethrak seemed clear outside of a few chunks that had been chipped off. Sethrak shone his light around himself, checking that his squad was okay. They appeared fine but startled by the sudden event.

These tunnels were dark, fragile, and blocked communications almost constantly. The silence was abnormal after a sudden change. Typically other squads would report in, checking on the others. Not this time. Sethrak and his squad were alone, with miles of tunnels and rock between them and the others. The only two routes were forward, or back the way they came. It seemed logical to go forward, they weren't hurt or trapped and they had an objective.

It was strange that the signal came from this rock. What could possibly be strong enough to transmit through the rock? Sethrak couldn't help but be curious, and excited for the outcome. With such uncertainty and excitement came a touch of fear. All beings feared the unknown. It was natural. Sethrak wouldn't show the fear that made his pulse heavy and fast, but he wouldn't suppress it completely. He knew his squad was afraid too, and he needed them to know they weren't alone. It was a mixture of showing strength, and empathy. Sethrak had observed Tathra, the "Titan", the "leader" of the Bryn. He didn't learn what to do...he learned what not to do. Apart from combat prowess and the occasional speech, Tathra was merciless, easily angered, impatient, and incapable of preparing The Bryn for the future. Perhaps he'd been blinded by his early successes. Perhaps Sethrak was wrong in his observations. Regardless, he felt that he was right, and so far he had been.

The dust had cleared almost completely, but what remained, lingered like a blanket of mist. Perhaps it was mist...the asteroid was dry and cold. Inside the tunnels, it was warmer and moist. It gave the already dark and isolated area a ghostlike aura. Sethrak's cold blood felt colder.

He spoke softly, "Come, we will continue. Tread softly."

Slowly he advanced, stepping over rubble, ducking and squeezing through narrow sections. His squad didn't have any Baedurin, but other squads had. He wondered how those squads would fare; the baedurin would be too big and too tall to fit through these areas.

Suddenly Sethrak felt odd, something told him to stop. He hesitated, listening but hearing nothing more than the others' breathing. He raised a fist, silently commanding the squad to wait. Slowly he crept forward, focusing on his surroundings very carefully. Something was coming. His muscles tightened as the walls around him rumbled. He jumped back as spikes extended quicker than a snake bites its' prey, scraping the opposite wall's blades and sparking, illuminating the tunnel where Sethrak had stood moments ago.

His already high pulse was racing after the near-death incident. He hadn't seen any plates, or holes in the wall. He didn't hear any clicks or creaks. It was sudden, and his only warning was the gut feeling that still hadn't left. He believed the feeling was a spawn of The Force, something he had felt before. However....the feeling did not fade. It was constant. This whole place was a trap and he had no further warning signs. He would need to rely on reflexes and brains if he, and his squad, were to escape this place alive.

He turned to his squad, knowing they were afraid, he spoke confidently "Brothers. This place is a trap. I understand your fear, I too am afraid. Stay together, stay behind me, tread softly, and advance as we have been trained to do. I will protect us."

It wasn't the most inspiring statement, but it was enough to rally the men.

They continued forward.

 

[Galak]

Post: One
Tags: TBD
Objective: C

When he woke, he could taste rock and dust. There was nearly a foot deep foggy layer of dust in the air, his head felt heavy like a malabast brick. He groaned, slowly rising as he felt dozens of small rocks fall from his armour. Galak placed his two hands in front, pushing himself upright; looking about with his one eye as his ears continued to ring. The large baedurin groaned again, feeling his right shoulder.

Dislocated. Damn. Not good.

Galak braced his arm against the crowning segments of his knee pad, placing his left hand over the bicep of his right shoulder.

"Alright..." Galak spoke, but only for a second before fixing his shoulder back into place. The pain wasn't ideal, shooting through his body. But there was much worse than this, the dull ache could be ignored for certain.

Galak sighed, turning to check around the area. It seemed he wasn't alone, there were more here trapped with him.

"Is everyone alright?"

 

[Osam]

Post 1
Objective A

There was a blur of movement somewhere above Osam's head. His eyes vaguely tried to follow the phantasm, but they were far too slow to catch the entity in the act of locomotion. Instead of finding a brother or a threat above him, his vision locked onto a rocky passage. It was umbral and dark, catching only the faintest glimmers of light from passerby's lights. This had the effect of causing even more specters to appear as fantastic shadows danced across only gently illuminated pillars of stone and cascades of fallen debris.

He thought he could hear voices, but the words all felt blurred and incoherent. It was like someone had thrust him underwater and decided to use his absence to spread conspiratorial whispers to one another. His eyes felt heavy, and he couldn't help but feel his muscles give in to exhaustion. The voices which had predominated his thoughts only moments ago suddenly faded away in importance. Compared to the vast stillness of the cavern and the deafening silence that predicated its presence, there was little they could do to compete.

Drowned in tons of detritus, the Major slumbered like the dead. He'd come remarkably close to that eternal sleep. A hefty rock had shifted when the asteroid had begun to rumble and shudder and had stricken him directly across the dome of his head. Were it not a glancing blow, it might've detonated his head like a fruit -- nevertheless, it had rattled his brain severely enough to make it difficult to arise or to speak or even to listen. All he wanted to do, in truth, was sleep.

Risen and Sraelvun alike were scattered around the area -- a few different squads had managed to reconvene together. The lesser tunnels here hadn't collapsed as fully as others might've elsewhere, but the major arteries of the system had been completely blockaded. There was enough of a barrier that it seemed unlikely that even a Servitor could quickly excise it from the passageways. As Osam drifted back into a restless sleep, he couldn't help but feel a gnawing in his skin -- like the loving embrace of an insect.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: B
POST: I
TAGS: Sethrak

A green dome in a ruined room lowered, revealing two Zealot Elites and their Commander.
​

About half an hour prior, the Elite Squad had entered the massive asteroid structure with the vanguard parties of the task force. The tunnel they had initially entered was a steel and rock pathway that extended on for at least a kilometer, fading into darkness afterwards and making it impossible to determine its true length. As it seemed, the asteroid had no natural or artificial lighting, with the light of the Conquestors fading after several hundred meters. The tunnel large enough to fit ten Draelvasier side by side, and the trio had been joined by several other squads of Zealots, Brutes, and Drones. However, in the minutes since, other groups had bent off into side paths, leaving the trio alone in the depths of the facility. Still, the squad had maintained radio contact with other Elite Squads and other units through their communication stones.

For the first ten minutes, nothing seemed amiss.

Every unit that the Elite Squad was in contact with reported encountering nothing but tunnels of identical width, though their length varied from one hundred meters to pathways such as the one the Elites were in that showed no sign of ending even after nearly a kilometer had been covered. Many of the faster units had begun to engage their artificial lighting systems to navigate the darkening pathways, and many reports came in about the pitch black of the vast tunnels resembling the void of space outside. Some groups were unsettled by the blanket of darkness and silence, but they continued on unfettered.

Then, the Elite Squad lost contact with the rest of the task force.

For the next ten minutes, the Elites rushed through the unending expanse of the tunnel, picking up their pace to keep their minds off the darkness that seemed to grow stronger even as the flashlights of the squad struggled to penetrate more than five meters into the void ahead. The main tunnel was uncomfortably long, its steel walls remaining identical even as Krarolk estimated that they had traveled two kilometers in. There was only one explanation for the length of the tunnel, which did not curve in any direction, and neither grew nor shrank with distance. It had to lead directly into the center of the asteroid, directly at the source of the signal.

About three and a half kilometers into the tunnel, the rock around them began to shake. Krarolk instinctively called upon his spiritual energy and raised a pale green dome around the trio just as the first rocks descended from the roof. For nearly thirty seconds, Krarolk struggled to maintain his focus as rock after rock bounced off his barrier. Suddenly, the collapse ceased.

In the turmoil, every flashlight in the Elite Squad had been broken, leaving them with only their weapons, armor, and utilities. Krarolk concentrated his remaining spiritual energy into his glaive's blade, illuminating it with an emerald-green light that reached out for several meters in all directions. With their new light source, the trio continued, moving slower as to not disturb the asteroid's stability any further.

Suddenly, a faint clicking noise appeared about fifty meters ahead.

The Elite Squad froze, not daring to move a single muscle. The clicking seemed to grow closer, louder, and more numerous, with the chorus of noise resembling that of a nest of spiders. But as the clicking continued, the squad realized that the noises were too evenly spaced and coordinated to be that of fauna.

Wordlessly, the Zealot Commander pulled out his Spitter Utility Bow and loaded an illumination arrow into its magazine. He aimed for the center of the hallway up ahead, and opened fire. In an instant, a light as strong as a flare's soared through the hallway, rapidly exiting the illumination range of Krarolk's imbued glaive.

About twenty meters ahead, the arrow revealed a horde of monsters. At least, that was the first word that came to the Commander's mind when he saw dozens of mechanical many-legged arachnids the size of a large Baedurin climbing on the walls and roof of the hallway ahead with spiked legs.

"Destroy them!" yelled the Zealot Commander, loading an explosive arrow into his Spitter.

"Understood!" replied Krarolk and Abvor at the same time as they reached into their own arsenals.

 

[Osam]

Post 2
Objective A

He stirred from his slumber far more violently this time. Osam's arms shot outwards, grasping and groping at something unseen, and finally found purchase on a rocky outcropping. There was a thumping pulsation of pain in the core of his head driven by a seemingly rhythmic beat. Every heartbeat sent a dull agony through his brain, each burst of blood reigniting some damaged neurological structure and reminding it of its less-than-perfect condition. The Major pressed on through the suffering, casting his eyes around the room, and discovering that it was altogether far darker than he had originally expected.

The chamber was fairly substantial in size, but even with the lights that the Sraelvun had brought with them, it was undeniably shadowy in nature. The occasional glance of a flashlight's beam was enough to reveal the honeycomb pattern of tunnels aimlessly scattered across multiple levels of the chamber. A few of them immediately seemed to be little more than sunken indentations in the rock, but then another flick of light would reveal a seemingly impossible passageway where before there had been only the encompassing shadow. It was going to be difficult not to miss passageways.

"What happened?" He called weakly, clearing his throat afterward in order to convey a more confident tone.

"Tunnel collapsed. Asteroid shooked." One of the larger Sraelvun spoke, casting its eyes towards the ceiling as though willing that it would stay in place. The Risen nodded at the apt summary, and then looked around the chamber again, letting the different figures and forms of his kindred come to the fore of his attention as he counted their number. Thirty-two. Six of whom were Risen.

"Organize everyone into groups of four. We need to find a way back."

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

Post #1
Objective : C
Allies: Galak
Location: Southwest Tunnel, Enclosure #4

Sylok felt the thundering rumble tremor through the passageway, the sudden gap that they once came in from collapsing into sudden darkness. The shards of stone and rock that followed swallowed the surrounding area like a torrent of water. Small pebbles and dust kicked up from the cave in spreading more confusion around him as groans and shrieks deafened in the distance. The sounds began to drown out as the solid realization struck him, they were trapped. Luckily, Sylok remained alarm and unscathed from the falling shards of stone that came after. Still, there would be losses. It was evident to him that there were too many to get to and the dark suffocating reality became more clear as his eyes adjusted.

The other Ashaka were lost to the depths, but Sylok was hopeful they were alive and well. Losing forces in the Ashaka Order could prove detrimental further into the future. Regardless, there were other things that had to be corrected right away. Sylok could finally see, his white pupils searching the dim lit area carefully. The first thing he thought of was how to get out, but quickly the tones of his people reached him. Many of them in agony, Sylok rushed to the closure. Body after body were crushed, splattered blood staining the ground below. The clear status of each Aeravalin & Baedurin crushed beneath the avalanche of stone was dead. Shockingly, Sylok stepped around a few large boulders before he reached a squirming Baedurin, his leg pinned down by two sharp shards that fell from above. The warriors groans and wincing convinced Sylok, his duties were necessary.

As Sylok placed his hands around the warriors ankle, the upper half of the warriors body shot upward as he let out a growl, his scaly face distorted from a few lacerations. Sylok grinned, it would be a difficult task to remove the shards without causing more blood loss, he would need assistance and fast. He had yet to find any others alive and well. Until, by the graces of the Draelvasier's natural strength and will, a voice called out.

"Is everyone alright?"

Sylok heard the grit and confusion behind the words calling out. The voice seemed far off, almost echoing from the other side of the tunnel he had yet to inspect for other survivors. Sylok looked down at the pinned Baedurin and placed his hand on his shoulder. He looked up, if another tremor came, more shards rested above, begging to fall and end the poor soldiers life. Sylok couldn't leave him. Yelling out might've been a gamble, but it was the only option afforded to him.

"I got an injured body over here, I..I need help getting him free. He's stuck!" Sylok yelled out, hoping the voice that spoke out could hear.

Osam | Tathra Khaeus | Krarolk T'manu | Sethrak​

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: B
POST: II
TAGS: Sethrak

By the time the light of the illumination arrow faded away, the Elite Squad had counted nearly five dozen mechanical monsters.
​

"We need to fall back!" yelled the Zealot Commander. "We're outnumbered by unfamiliar machines of considerable size, these aren't forces we can beat alone."

"Would you suggest a full retreat?" stated Krarolk, beginning to step backwards as the sounds of the mechanical monsters grew nearer.

"Yes, the entire task force needs to regroup before we return to this wretched rock." replied the Commander. "As we run back to our host, use your explosives to slow them down like this!"

The Zealot Commander pointed her Spitter Utility Bow up to the roof several meters ahead of them and opened fire, sending an explosive arrow flying upwards. It detonated upon hitting the roof, sending a pile of rocks and rubble amplified by the unsteady hallway descending down between them and the mechanical beings.

Then, the trio bolted.

With only the light of Krarolk's glaive to guide them, the Elite Squad carefully dashed through the damaged hallway, weaving through piles of rocks and dust. Behind them, the clicking noises were replaced by the cracking of rock, as if metal spikes were being drilled into them. Suddenly, the sound of an explosion rang out behind them, and though the Elites could not see them, they knew that the machines had broken through the rubble.

The Commander fired another explosive arrow, bringing down the roof behind them. It would only be a matter of time before the mechanical monsters tore through the rocks, but hopefully their delay would give the Elite Squad enough time to regroup with another unit.

Between Krarolk and the Commander, they had eight explosive arrows remaining.

 

[Galak]

Post: Two
Tags: Sylok'Vanari
Objective: C

Through the confusion and hysteria, Galak had to try his best to save everyone he could. One baedurin was half buried in dust and rocks, blood dripping from its cracked skull, another was nursing a snapped wrist, bones sticking out of the Aeravalins arm. It wasn't very often he'd seen panic like this, much rather feel useless. They were lucky they'd brought the Ashaka members along with them, though looking about a solid half of them had been killed or been separated in the cave collapse.

"Someone, get a splint prepared. Mutagen reinforcement needed." Galak took one of his restoration mutagens from his satchel, placing it over the open wound. That'd stop it from getting much worse at the very least.

Galak stopped in the centre of it all, looking about - frozen in place for a moment as he heard a call for help, someone pinned under something. Strength and lifting things, he could do that easily enough. The large Baedurin waddled toward where he'd heard the call come from, stopping in the turn of a tunnel as small pebbles and ash gushed out from the apparent cracks.

As Galak looked to the pinned Baedurin, he noticed how the fallen debris had always wedged the baedurin against the cracked wall. If he moved the wounded soldier, it might collapse another section or more sections of the tunnel. Best to see first, he could at least try.

"We've got to be careful..." He growled, pacing around to see where he could get the best grip.

 

[Sethrak]

Spoiler

Tathra Khaeus Galak Primarch Drek'ma Keldothera Ostak Cl'mana Osam Krarolk T'manu

Post 2
Objective: B

They had encountered three more traps so far. One was the same as before, spikes ejecting from the wall, sparking as they grazed each other. The other two were completely different.

One had been a trap inside the floor. Sethrak had put one foot forward, slowly as he had since the first encounter, and the moment he put weight down the floor collapsed. Under this false layer there were about a dozen spikes from the size of an arm, to the size of a pike. The Warlock had avoided injury by falling backwards. He'd landed on his rear, causing a hint of embarrassment, but in the end it made his squad a bit less stressed. It was good to have something to laugh at when your life is on the line.

Spoiler: Trap 1

The second trap, however, was very problematic. The Warlock stepped forward and landed on a pressure plate of some kind. Instantly, three ball-shaped figures swung toward him. The figures had spikes on them, sharp enough to puncture metal if they hit right. He managed to avoid them, however the balls then exploded an threw The young Warlock back. He had been hit with several pieces of shrapnel which had sliced his arms, punctured his chest, and cut his face in several places. Furthermore, the tunnel ahead was significantly weakened. If the group continued, there was a chance of the structure collapsing on them. That couldn't be allowed, but neither could a retreat.

Spoiler: Trap 2

Sethrak was unsure which way to go. If he continued, his men may die (as may he), while if they retreat the job would be a failure. He considered the options for a moment and decided to ask his men. It was their life, they should have a say. While it may look like a weakness, it was the right call. He wasn't the wisest Drael alive and he didn't pretend to be. These Bryn had opinions and now they would be allowed to voice them.

"Brothers; we have a choice. Continue and risk the tunnel collapsing, or retreat and suffer the consequences of our failure?"

He looked each one in the eye as he spoke, and then awaited their response. He saw fear turn to surprise as the Drael were given a chance to voice their own opinions for once. It was indeed a rarity, many Bryn leaders weren't sympathetic toward their soldiers: a result of the Drael culture. They were taught that if they weren't the strongest, they weren't to lead. The strongest were the leaders and it made them arrogant oftentimes, knowing that they were the strongest and most successful of their company. There were drones in his group...they wouldn't speak. They were bred as inferior, martyr-like drael.

The first to speak spoke loudly and briefly, "Continue. We live to serve the Bryn Empire. Death his acceptable."

The first was the last.

The others nodded in unity, with high cohesion when death was staring them in the face. It was admirable.

They had made their choices and now the time had come. Sethrak again took the lead, ignoring the tender and irritated cuts all over his body. Ignoring, but not forgetting. They were a humbling reminder that death was just seconds away.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Post: One
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

With a wince of pain, consciousness came back. Breathe was limited, his lungs squashed under the weight of the metal of the tunnel. When it had collapsed, one of the interior stabilisers had swung down, slamming into his chest and crushing him into the wall. He’d delved into the force, using it to protect his body just enough to eliminate the possibility of death. But, even if that had not initially killed him, perhaps being trapped would. His left arm was free, of course - his left. His most useless arm with nothing but a stubb, his right seemingly trapped under the rubble.

Though that was not his immediate issue, he could feel his thoughts fading; his body was struggling to continue to pump oxygen into his brain. Everything was getting foggy, he couldn’t feel anything beyond his own form - nobody he’d been with seemed to be near him or alive. Shock cut through him like a knife, Tathra - he thought, it must have been a tenabrak plot! Drek’ma struggled more now, shuffling under the weight of the rock bearing down on his chest and arm.

Not only that, but if nobody had survived whatever had happened, that meant he was entirely alone and that unfortunately sealed his fate. Primarch’s no doubt had their times, but he did not expect it to end quite so unceremoniously. The last Primarch, he had overthrown because of his disloyalty. He wanted to die knowing his replacement would succeed him, this would not be such a fitting end.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: One
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma |
Objective: B

A large slab of rock splintered as it was flung from the weighted carapace, a massive red arm cutting a swath through the burial mound of rock and metal it found itself in. With an angered growl, he pushed aside another piece halving his view. The lights were still active, they still had air. Not a bad start. Next, his left arm shot up from the wreckage; shattering a solid portion of rock as he pulled himself up through the debris, covered in ash and dirt.

Tathra gasped, coughing and choking as he hacked up swallowed rocks and dust. The taste of fossils wasn’t a pleasant one. His old bones ached, pulling himself out of the mound as he rose; muscles as old and strong as iron tree bark carrying him upward as he slid down the mound. His armour had been dented, scratched and torn. New silver scratches ripped across the grey and gold armour plating.

He staggered closer to a body, careful to watch his footing amongst the mist. He grasped the Drael by his shoulders, rolling over the body. It was one of his Honour Guard, dead. He wasn’t sure what killed him, but by the markings on the body it wasn’t the cave collapse. It seemed as though they’d been separated from the others with intent.

“Damn.” He sighed, his shoulders hung low and heavy - aching flesh.

Normally he'd be able to get up as quickly as he'd been put down, give or take twenty or fifty years ago anyhow. Tathra spat, growling as he rose. His hand reached out, nothing. His Axe was trapped, somewhere. At least he still had his sword. But he wasn't sure if he'd need it, yet.

 

[Osam]

Post 3
Objective A

His head continued to thrum with pain like the rhymic rattle of a drum. He must've taken quite a blow from the falling rocks he considered, running a hand over his scalp in an attempt at locating the source of impact. There was certainly a spot which was far sorer than the others, as if though it had bruised rather considerably, but it still felt as if though his entire skull was awash in the sensation. Of course, he had come out of the ordeal much better than a few of his peers. At least a few must've been crushed completely underneath falling stones and debris, buried in a tomb of a hundred tons. Others had clearly been injured and were still tending to whatever wounds they'd suffered from the disaster.

The Major banded together with a squad of Sraelvun and began to scout out the tunnels, maneuvering past whatever collapses they were able as they desperately sought a way out of their predicament. There was uncertain fidgeting that seemed almost omnipresent among his kindred, and he questioned how many of them were secretly claustrophobic. Onward and onward they pushed until they reached points where further pushing was impossible or impractical. There was no way for them to crawl three miles with the wounded they had -- even if Osam felt certain that the crawlspace might've gone at least that distance.

There was a whimpering sound somewhere behind the Major, and he cast a gaze back towards his compatriot. The lesser Sraelvun wiped a palm at his face, wiping away a bit of saliva and blood that had loosed from its mouth. Osam imagined that the Srael might've bashed his head against one of the stones while he was maneuvering, or else that he might be suffering from injuries sustained during the collapse, but there seemed to be a strange amount of fear in the face of his brother.

"All well?" He spoke simply, reverting to the short commands he often used when surrounded by only his inferior cousins. The Sraelvun shook his head, staring at the blood which now graced his hand in awe and terror.

"No rock strike. Why bleed?"

Why indeed...

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Post: Two
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

He felt so weak, the weight of the debris felt like it was pulverising his organs. But, his mind still made sense. If they had crushed his organs he wouldn’t be hallucinating he’d be dead. The pressure on his chest was just enough to alter the amount of oxygen reaching his brain.

The objective being to make one sore, simple. He felt that to be impending. His dwelling on mortality was cut short at the sounds of something bursting through solid rock. He didn’t need two guesses as to what or who it was.

“Tathra.” He murmured through a half-choked breath though it wasn’t enough to catch the Titan’s attention. He could try and wave, try and do something with his useless stub. It was of no use, he had to try and call out for help.

“H-e-ee-elp!” His broken speech was more like a whispered screech than anything else.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Two
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma
Objective: B

He flinched, turning around and looking about his surroundings. He could’ve sworn he heard something. Tathra looked around, but it was hard to see much with the amount of dust. The air was slick with ash and debris, he was careful not to swallow much. Tathra slowly moved forward, using his gauntlet to cover his mouth.

“Drek’ma?!” Tathra called out, his voice echoing through the cave. There was no response, and with his vision impaired by the thick dust clouding the air he wasn't going to spot anyone trapped under rubble.

He staggered forward, looking around. He wondered how this had all happened, how they’d been attacked like this. Was it another attempt by the heretics to take his life, stage a mutiny? Something in his gut said this was something else, looking around the fallen corpses he didn’t spot the Primarch. Perhaps he’d teleported out, or he’d been crushed by rubble.

Either way, he needed to find him. He needed to figure out how many of his warriors were still alive on this rock. He raised his gauntlet, speaking into the communication stone; “This is Tathra, can anyone hear me?” - Nothing came back, static and broken distant whispers.

 

[Osam]

Post 4
Objective A

There was a sickness in the air.

After news of the peculiar injury being suffered by the Sraelvun reached the others, it became apparent that at least a few had suffered similar wounds including a pair of the Risen. They'd begun to bleed almost spontaneously, and many spoke of how the air itself tasted of metal. At first, Osam had believed that the injuries sustained were simply a result of the collapse and that a few had been so filled with adrenaline that they had not noticed the poor state that they were in, but as more and more stepped forward and spoke of their deteriorating conditions, it became evident that something far more malicious was at work.

"Smell for the metal. Search the room. Decide where it's strongest." He commanded his peers, hoping to discover the origin of the poisonous gas before it had reaped too high a toll upon them. At once, a dozen Sraelvun began to rotate throughout the room in a disorganized fashion, sniffing the air as if though they were beasts of battle, searching and comparing and cross-checking both with one another and with their own olfactory senses until they'd come to a few conclusions. The smell was absolutely stronger closer to the ground at all points than it was to the ceiling, and it was marginally stronger to the East than it was to the West.

Of course, that was enough for the Risen-Sraelvun to surmise that whatever was leaking such despicable taint into their chamber was located somewhere below their feet and along the Eastern portion of the asteroid. There simply had to be a tunnel leading to the threat, because there was no way for such gases to permeate through so many tons of solid rock otherwise. Nevertheless, it would be a foolhardy move for them to cut access to all of the tunnels in a fell swoop - they were filled with vital air, and plugging the breathing holes was sure to suffocate them faster than the threat would ever manage to slay them.

 

[Keldothera]

Post: One
Objective: C
Tags: Sylok'Vanari | Galak |

Her legs felt heavy, she'd sprained her ankle when the cave had collapsed. But, that wasn't quite enough to stop her. She had to regroup with her Juggernauts, though it seemed she was trapped alone. Typical, anytime something bad happened she was singled out.

Typical universe, constantly giving her the business. First she lost her mate at Yurb, then she lost Fertesa aboard the Fractured Axe. Now, she'd been separated, isolated in some damn asteroid on an unimportant scavenger mission. Though, with the Titan coming along she supposed it must've been of some significance. She forced herself to her feet, struggling forward before tripping again.

Kelda slammed into the ground, hard; face first. She groaned, looking down at the rock underneath her feet. Her eyes grew wide as she squirmed away, recognising the body of Juggernaut major Grata. Damn, she liked him. A sigh escaped her, but aside from the moment of grief? She had to figure out how to get out of here.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Post: Three
Tags: Tathra Khaeus |

He could hear the Titan calling out for him, but it wasn’t a connection, Tathra had no idea where he was. He had been a fool, been neglectful of his own powers even as they waned. Drek’ma concentrated, his mind focusing on the beacon of life that emanated from him.

Tathra, I’m here… help…

His mind sent off the message, but his weakened fortitude twisted it into more of a scrambled, confused feeling. Fear, confusion, desperation all came as primary instincts. His will to survive was all that was keeping him going, he couldn't die here. Not like this. He was losing consciousness, his eyelids becoming heavy as his breathing became heavy and laboured. There was only so long he could hold on for.

His breaths were short and strained, his free stub struggling against the pinning mound of rock to no avail. He was trapped without help, he couldn't focus to teleport.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Three
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma
Objective: B

From all around him, he heard the baritone of the Primarch coming at him from all angles. It was a telepathic outcry, but it was a broken message born of fear. He must’ve been struggling, but nearby. It was possible what he thought he’d heard had been the Primarch. He quickly flicked through his vision modes, looking around as he switched to his deep-scan motion vision. He had to find him quickly, Aeravalin were not so good with physical punishment and especially not Drek’ma, he was not quite as hardy as warriors such as Sethrak or Krarolk.

Turning around a gap in the cave wall, Tathra remembered the last thing he’d seen. When the collapse happened, the walls caved in and the metal structures built in to help hold everything up had always split from the walls; one struck him and the other crashed into Drek’ma. At the end of the tunnel, he saw the beat of a heart beyond a slab of rock.

“Primarch..” He whispered under his breath, rushing to the collapsed wall as fast as he could. He didn’t care that the ceiling creaked or quaked, he needed to get his friend out of there. The heartbeat was faint, but it was there. He bent at the knees, grasping the massive boulder and prying it away slowly to ensure nothing more came crashing down. Underneath, the battered Primarch lay.

Tathra looked him over once; snorting. "You'll live."

 

[Osam]

Post 5
Objective A

The tunnel which seemed to stink the strongest of metal, and whose proximity seemed to have led to the most number of spontaneous hemorrhaging was quickly located. It was a deep and recessed pit in the ground, stretching onwards and onwards as far as the eye could see -- and then by all accounts it simply ended in a wall. It was a tight fit for certain to the point where some of the larger Sraelvun were completely incapable of passing through the crawlspace. A few of the smaller brethren seemed able to crawl into the place, though, but once more the fear of being trapped in such a dark and despicable hole in the ground reared its head in a lack of volunteers.

Surely at some point a Servitor worm would come and rend apart the blockages keeping them separate from their kin, but if they were to manually attempt escape, it would take days to dig even the slightest bit closer to escape. By that point, it was quite possible and even likely that the poisonous air leaking in through the hole would have taken its toll on the Sraelvun and their greater cousins. They were not immune to such disturbing maledictions after all, and while they'd only been compressed in their prison for a short while, they'd already begun to see increasingly vile effects.

Osam could not hope to lead his people and simultaneously back down from a challenge. This was a different foe from that usually faced by their kin, however. He would be reprimanded severely if he were to flee from a true opponent, a member of the weakling races -- but this was no organic nor even their mechanical constructs... it was an enemy nevertheless. So close to the thing, it was certain that he would be exposed to a greater amount of its gas than his peers, and yet, there were no respirators to be worn, no devices to prevent such diabolical assaults.

The hybrid rent apart some of the material from one of his fallen companion's uniforms, curled it over his hand and promptly tied it around his face, hoping that the cloth barrier would provide at least some semblance of protection. And then -- down into the tunnel he went, crawling on elbows and knees and stomach when it grew especially tight, his light clanging loudly against the cold ground with every grasp.