Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Eat The Rich - Dominion of Dellalt

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: B
Post: 4
Tags: Galak

Hrajlmak's eyes trailed as Galak moved to the command table. His prolonged stay on the Bryn'adul-Sith border had raised eyebrows evidently. Conspicuousness he had hoped to avoid. A naive motive, but mass insurrection among the Bryn'adul was deeply troubling, and many Warlocks had taken part. Dealing with it was difficult, and not just logistically. It had shaken him. Disrupted the roots of his loyalties. Hrajlmak had reservations about his position in society. Ambitions that weren't being realised, and for reasons very clear. Hrajlmak was no hardy soldier nor sage of a Shaman. He was a chaotic marriage of both ideals that almost never reconciled. Exile after Eshan, open disputes with the Ish'makra and hot water with the Titan more than once. There was comradery between the two on deck. But these were two very different Drael, and Hrajlmak's temper was a prickly thing.
"Once you're done here, you're to return to Draemidus. Decommission this vessel and see yourself and your troops outfitted properly. By order of the Titan."
Red warmth boiled in the Warlock's chest, dissipated through tightly clenched jaws. His eyes fell on Galak's back. "There have been disturbing reports from Krinemonen III. Once this.." He pondered the word, "...game" he growled, "...ends, myself and my vessel are to accompany a Seer's detachment there. The Force will compensate for my redundancies before I return home". The command deck shook as another salvo was unleashed upon the fortress below.

 

[Osam]

Post 5
Objective C: Dagger War

Risen Majors from a variety of squads began to gradually appear, disengaging from whatever meager forces had previously held their attention. Many of them were quite bloodthirsty by nature, having been raised as mere Sraelvun, and thus used to the ferocity that such a society bred. Nevertheless, there were relatively few among their rank who didn't hold at least a modicum of respect for the First of their kind. Osam waited patiently as they filtered in, refusing to brief any of them before the entire assembly had gathered.

Finally, when they had assembled along with the warriors under their command, the First made his reason for their summoning clear. "There is an urgent matter that must be dealt with before we are finished with the world. After the cleansing, it is likely that our forces will withdrawal, and then it will be too late to deal with the problem."

He paused, slamming a foot against the cache of supplies in order to draw attention to it. "Hidden agents among the populace here are stowing away weapons and equipment. They think to catch us unaware after we have left, to strike at our workers, and slay them after the Nimscalls are finished." The hybrid lifted up one of the aforementioned rifles before chucking it back into its pile. "We must locate these caches and destroy them. They will be hidden. It is vital that they are found before we are finished with our campaign."

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Sink the Island
Post: 3

It seemed as though he had been found.

A small ship flew over his Gunboat, his attention was taken away from the serpent within the water for a brief moment. His eyes closed, feeling the flesh within its metal cage. They had been sent to kill him from one of them main islands.

The two Zealots at his side shifted, taking their rifles into hand. The ship lowered close to the Gunboat, its thrusters kicking up the water beneath them. The Primarch looked to his stub, then back to the shuttle; the doors on either side of the shuttle began to depressurise.

"Naves."

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Eat the Rich
Post: Three

She grasped the backpack of the Commando in one hand, throwing the dazed soldier across the pool again in the opposite direction. Did Keldothera enjoy playing with her food? Sometimes. The Commando tried to pull himself up with both arms out of the pool, the General cut through the water like it was nothing on her way toward him.

Blaster fire came from above, rippling jolts in the water rising with steam and vapour as the bolts hit the pool. Keldothera looked above to see the rest of the Commando's squad. She'd used her Kraker earlier to separate them by destroying a bridge between this building and one on an adjacent island.

She took the Kraker from her back, opening fire up above toward the three Commandos - the explosive bolts forcing them into cover. Her distraction gave the Commando time to escape, but he didn't. Instead, propelling himself towards her with his hidden-blade slashing at her arm.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Sink the Island
Post: 4

The Primarch delved into the threads of time and space, his mind shifted to observe the interior of the enemy vessel. His mind placed himself within its confines and in a blink, white energies enveloped him and he rematerialized within the Sith vessel.

Life draining energy struck the closest into the opposite wall of the ship, the Primarch's eyes darting between them as he counted a total of three still standing. The Primarch looked to the second of his victims, forcing his heart to stop, fatally, falling to the ground.

Lightning shot upward like a tendril from his right hand, slashing the last in a chain of lightning that burnt their flesh, making them scream. Manipulating the force, Drek'ma forced the door to the cockpit open - the pilot raised her pistol. But she was too slow, Drek'ma grasped her by the throat, snapping her spindly neck in his hand.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: BYOD
Post: Three

Even with purpose found, the grand metal hilt of the Axe felt heavier than before. A sign of age, but heavier than a feather was nothing at all compared to the weight on one's shoulders. He placed the Long-Axe back into the braces that held it upright, the hook the Axe sitting gently against the metal frame.

He sat in an adjacent meditation sphere, a mat he had woven was spread out across the floor. It was a tapestry of Draemidus' destruction and its revitalisation by the Bryn'adûl. To this day, the sight of Draemidus pained him. They had rebuilt much, but it was still a shell of its former self. They could not rebuild a planet.

Not yet.

He settled down onto his knees taking up a bowl, a small spoonful of incense sat in the bottom. It helped clear the mind, setting it atop the burning coals in the centre. He sat; hands on his thighs, waiting as it burned the aroma into the air. He breathed in, and out. A wave of calm, washing over.

 

[Osam]

Post 6
Objective C: Dagger War

It was evident from the expressions of the Risen Majors that they did not all understand the importance of discovering the hidden caches. Osam could almost see the questions forming in their heads as they considered why they had to focus so heavily on eliminating a few terrorists. Wouldn't they all be exterminated by the gradual push of the Bryn'adul? Wouldn't all of the civilian and military forces be destroyed along with the planet's infrastructure? They didn't understand that the presence of concealed caches meant that they would also struggle to discover the concealed agents.

Osam knew too that it was much easier than might've been expected to deploy a small band of soldiers to a planet, even one that was blockaded by the Draelvasier. It would prove to be no issue at all for them to send individuals down on the world, especially if they could stow away the necessary supplies they would need on the world itself. No... closing the net on the agents would prove to be nearly impossible without a significantly larger force - the numerous supply zones meant that they could simply re-base themselves when they had been discovered.

"Go. There is no time to sit and discuss." He finally commanded, thrusting his hand out dismissively and sending away the Majors. A few were quick to respond, but a couple lingered, uncertain as to the validity of the orders, uncertain if they wanted to listen. Osam assisted them in their thoughts by gripping the pair by their shoulders and thrusting them forward, sending them stumbling and into motion in the process. They gave grunts and shrieks of discontent, but they didn't need to be happy about the ordeal, only obedient.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Eat the Rich
Post: Four

The vibroblade cut through the soft of her elbow, a yelp escaping her as the Commando lunged to strike again. She grasped his wrist in her own hand, using his momentum against him as she threw him across the pools length. She was a baby brumak in headlights if she stayed in the pool.

Wide eyes took note of the anti-material rifle aimed at her by one of the Commando's from above. Keldothera charged toward the end of the pool, leaping out from it as the antimaterial round careened toward her. She wasn't within kill distance, but it still hurt.

Already mid-air, she was flung sideways by the explosion - crashing through pillars just beyond the pool, rolling twice over. Kraker thrown from her hand. She took the Pulversier from her hip, shooting the lights above.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: BYOD
Post: Four

"Show me them again." Tathra spoke aloud, seemingly to no one as a series of digits appeared before him.

The count was as the widths of his perceptions. Entire systems of planets that once thrived with diverse life, gone. Entire civilisations never to be seen again, their light extinguished forever. A heavy sigh escaped him, the price was high. But he alone was willing to pay it, his will alone was strong enough to commit such atrocities in the name of peace and sanity. He did what had to be done, but it didn't change how it felt.

After what the Jedi, the force did to him on Nar Kreeta. It had opened a hole inside of him, he had felt the sorrow of mother holding the split skull of a child in its arms. The fear of a soldier when their ships arrived in the sky, he understood. But it only reaffirmed to him one truth, this was his destiny.

The force had made him manifest, the Galaxy itself had been his mother and thus the most powerful species in the Galaxy was reborn from his rib, his flesh. Yet, with all that it still hurt. With the flick of his hand, the numbers disappeared, exhaling hard.

 

[Galak]

Post: Four
Obj: B
Tag: Hrajlmak'Natok

Galak saw the snapping pincers of the angry Rhivak, he didn't even need to look the way of the First Warlord to know what was going on behind his backk. But he had no intention of acknowledging it. He had no knowledge of these disturbing reports, but he didn't think he was lying. The Warlord thought for a moment, hand running over the command console. The Warlock was picking the fight with the wrong person, and it wasn't one he could win.

His eyes looked to the Warriors of his surrounding the deck, his lieutenant; Gara had his hand on his Pulveriser. Galak shifted his head slightly, winking. Signalling for him to relax. This didn't need to become violent.

"It makes no difference to me." Galak explained, shrugging.

"I'll make sure you get where you're supposed to be, regardless."

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Sink the Island
Post: 5


As the vessel dipped toward the see, Drek'ma returned to the Gunboat in a flash of light. Then he returned his attention to the serpent beneath the surface, it had continued to destroyed the undergrowth as the Guardian turned around, moving upward toward the centre of the island.

The massive Servitor shot for the middle of the island, tearing through ground, concrete and eventually duracrete. The massive prong-clawed face of the Guardian tore through the surface, its upper body ripped through the ground, causing many buildings to crumble as the ground began to recede as it roared a quaking shriek, its massive head fully revealed.

The Primarch raised both of his arms, holding the Staff between his thumb and index finger as the rest were outstretched as he lead the grand servitor upward, rising into a hunched form as it readied to dive forward.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Eat the Rich
Post: Five

Keldothera knew the Commando's came equipped with night vision equipment, but all the same it gave her natural predator instincts an advantage. She moved through the under-glow, darting between the pillars as the Commando's moved to see to their scout whom she had been fighting with for the last several minutes.

She could see the flashlights of their blasters, moving in to intercept her. Her Kraker was across the room somewhere, though she wasn't sure of the weapons placement. She dropped a grenade, exploding into a solid block of veracrete atop one of the Commandos as another pushed round the pillar.

She caught the blaster in her underarm, crushing the Commandos wrist, forcing the weapon to the ground as she turned on her heel, pivoting as she grasped his forearm with her right hand. She yanked him to her, firing over his shoulder with the Pulveriser and forcing the other two to take cover.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Sink the Island
Post: 6

The Guardian curled around one of the largest standing buildings in the island-city, crushing it with seemingly little effort as it darted backwards and down, hundreds of nobles and politicians being crushed as it tore through the ground.

As the Guardian burrowed, various constructs on the surface of the island sunk between the cracks, the entire island beginning to sink as everything was violently torn apart. All the machinations of man would be destroyed, all in sight; devoured.

The Bryn'adûl had no mercy, no mercy for the weakest of the filth. The massive serpent cut through the island like a knife through cloth.

"Everything they've built, by the Titan's will it will fall." The Primarch shouted out into the open air, speaking to just himself or perhaps the Servitor as well.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: B
Post: 5
Tags: Galak

The air settled slightly, only occasionally being shaken by the rumbles of orbital shelling, and the meager response of anti-orbit weaponry. "Mmph" Hrajlmak murmured. His petty anger slowly subsiding, replaced by the call of duty. Below their feet, the ground yearned to be cleansed. After all, Dellalt wouldn't find itself arriving at the same fate as countless worlds before it without the proper guidance. "Good hunting, Marauder Galak". He smacked his fist into his chest, bowed his head to the back turned against him, and departed the bridge.

THE SURFACE

Stood encased in the thick rock and metal Heldrak, quiet thoughts of indiscernible things bounced without purpose around a battered cranium. Most Drael hated the drop pods. And for good reason. If you tapped an Aeravalin engineer on the shoulder and recommended he consider ergonomics in his designs, you'd get a blank stare until you left the room. Hrajlmak pondered the thought. What do they know he shrugged. Not much.
As gracefully as a Phedrak breaking the cloud layer on a crisp winter morning, Hrajlmak's drop pod smashed into ground, throwing up a cloud of sand and mud. He booted the door from its proverbial hinges and stepped out into the tropical sun, the sky still raining the refuse of landing. He squinted his eyes and held his hand up to his face. To some this world was an island paradise. To him, it was a hot weighted blanket pulling him into the ground. His walk was uneven as he began ironing out the creases of alien gravity. All around him, the beach was quickly becoming a hellscape of crashing pods, from whence came seemingly endless streams of Bryn'adul forces. Slowly, a vast network of minds began attaching to his, infecting his consciousness and adding their voices to his own inner monologue. And so the army formed. His mental grip pulled on the reigns, and creatures unholy to the species of the galaxy came gradually into formation. Ahead, the horizon held a fortress. Soon, that same horizon would hold nothing but smoke and rubble. Hrajlmak stretched. He hated pulling a muscle.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: BYOD
Post: Five

Tathra rose, turning away from his armaments as chaos unfolded outside. Months later they were still moping up what remained of the Sith. They had left billions of their own behind, he couldn't ever truly dream of wanting pointless deaths for his own. The very thought of a Draelvasier.

The thought of them being homeless wasting away on the corner of a corellian street filled him with pain. The thought of a human, of a child even. It gave him such rage. They all had so much potential, especially the children. He felt sorry most of all for the futures squandered, but it was a necessary sacrifice.

Again, he reminded himself that it was his choice. But if it was destiny, was there any real choice to it? Perhaps he could simply absolve himself of any blame or accountability. It was destiny, the Titan would proclaim on the day he would answer for his actions - No. That was not their way. He never wanted it to be, he had taught them to own their mistakes, to be who they were.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Eat the Rich
Post: Six

The Commando in her grasp took her arm into a two handed grasp, pivoting out of her grasp and bringing her arm low as he took his pistol into his right hand; opening fire at her immediately. The light of the blaster fire was blinding, clashing with her helmet as her head was shaken in the metal dome.

Kelda kicked low, hitting him in the knee as she grasped the hand still near her arm, yanking the Commando onto his knees. With her Pulveriser she took aim, pressing the barrel against his visor before firing. The back of the helmet exploded outward with a gush of blood, the middle of the Commando's face falling like a trail of red sewage behind him as the other two flanked her at either side.

Kelda instinctively moved between the pillars, blaster fire chipping away at her armour. She shot the first in the chest, the impact throttling him into a wall. The second fired the antimaterial launcher again, directly into her chest.

 

[Galak]

Post: Five
Obj: B
Tag: Hrajlmak'Natok

Galak exhaled, his body relaxing as the First Warlock relaxed. It was all in good time, their pods were ready to go. The Warlord had an idea, gesturing for his loyal accompaniment of Juggernauts to join him. He nearly snorted as the Warlock referred to him by an old title, Galak would've accosted anyone else. But, now wasn't the time for such things. Especially in these exceptionally trying circumstances.

"I'll join you. And. its Warlord now, Warlock Natok." Those were the last words shared between the two. A warning to be sure, Galak kept his calm but he would not suffer further subordination if he could manage.

He headed down to the drop bay, standing. He watched as many Warriors clambered their way into the small Heldrak pods. Not small in the literal sense, but compared to their larger cousins. Yes. It had been years since he had been in one of these, a lot of the time they used the dropships or Gunboats to descend. Pods were usually reserved for the Savages.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Sink the Island
Post: 7

With a grand, tumultuous crash the Island broke apart as it drowned. The Servitor, upright over the Island's corpse as it roared in victorious bloodlust. Servitors were warmongering creatures, there was no doubt in that. They enjoyed the sport of it.

Even without the direct control of the Shamans they were brutal creatures. He respected them, yet even now as the Guardian was recalled he still felt the conscious beat of its heart and his slowly separating, and looking into its eyes gave him fear. Very few Shamans actually had the proper understanding or the training.

But he understood. Drek'ma intimatey understood the power of nature, something a creature as limited as the nobles of this island could never understand.

 

[Galak]

Post: Six
Obj: B
Tag: Hrajlmak'Natok

Galak and his company of some twenty moved into the pod alongside the Drones and Warlocks already inside. They looked onward with seemingly hungry eyes as Galak loaded his Triad. A massive chaingun typically carried by Juggernaut Heavy units.

Galak held on tight to a brace as the pod dropped from the sky, crashing through the orbital barrier as anti-air bolts cut through the clouds. It was a rocky but nostalgic ride down as they crashed, the wonderful sound of the pod door hissing before blasting off its own hinges was music to his ears.

"Form ranks, fire at will!" The Warlord growled, stampeding the Sith troopers pushing up toward them as the Chaingun blew them apart.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: BYOD
Post: Six

He needed to be who he was, not a messenger from the cosmic. As manifest he might've been, a demi-god of some kind possibly. He was still sentient, still Tathra Khaeus. The weapons adorning his wall were his, millions of dead cleaved by their blades. Millions of blaster bolts, reflected off of the silver plate of the armour. Looking at those things, they had their own characters and history.

Perhaps they would outlive him. He hoped once his mission was complete, once the Galaxy was taken that others would take up the mantle and even his weapons would live on to serve the Draelvasier and the Bryn'adûl long after he was gone. The thought of that gave him some measure of peace. in that moment.