Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Marshland Slaughter at Riileb

[Galak]

Objective: Rid, Rend and Raid
Post: Four
Tags: Tathra Khaeus | Primarch Drek'ma |

Galak remained silent, stewing in his impotent rage. He chewed on his own tongue, his words - thinking. Was it really a sign of strength to try and put down his own kind? Galak stared daggers at Drek'ma for a few moments, returned by a blank gaze. He unconsciously rocked back and forth, his mind drawing a blank as to what to say or do.

"Curious." Galak thumbed over the word in his mind. He felt threatened in a way, but he knew he shouldn't. That internal conflict was his problem and he felt some deal of shame making it the Primarch's.

"Curious about what?"

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: HUNT
POST: TWO
TAGS: Osam | Sethrak
APPROACHING OSAM/SETHRAK's LOCATION

An explosion shook the nearby marshland, drawing the attention of the Zealot trio.
​

"Our kin might be in trouble." stated the Zealot Commander. "Follow me!"

With his newfound control of his inner energies, Krarolk was able to temporarily solidify the mud underneath his feet every time he took a step, creating a series of solid stepping stones that he utilized in his pursuit. With his spiritual energy acting on the mud, it was significantly easier for him to move through the swamps, and he soon overtook the other two members of the trio. That was when the Zealot remembered - he could likely leave enough of his energy in the mud to allow for all three of them to follow the path. Upon taking his next step towards the disturbance, Krarolk channeled a chunk of his spiritual energy into the mud underneath his feet and forced it into there, making it as hard as a block of steel. With the added energy, the mud maintained its new form for about fifteen seconds, giving the other two Zealots time to catch up.

"Well done, Elite Krarolk!" called out his Commander in approval. "Your new skill should make navigating this swamp much easier."

"As long as I don't get shot, that shouldn't be a problem." replied Krarolk.

That was when a bullet flew towards the Zealot Elite from directly in front of him. He rapidly twisted his body to the side, the bullet passing centimeters away from his chest.

"Hostiles directly ahead!"

Several other bullets followed the first in quick succession, fired from behind trees and dense foliage. The Zealot trio assumed their typical combat formation, with Abvor taking the brunt of the assault with his heavier armor and thicker skin. The bullets seemed to be haphazardly fired from small-caliber rifles, meaning that the trio was likely not facing a planetary military force. Rather, it seemed as if the Zealot trio was engaging a local militia. While they were certainly more dangerous than mere civilians, they would still be easy pickings once they were removed from their cover.

Suddenly, a Byrn voice ( Sethrak 's call through the Force) entered Krarolk's head, calling for reinforcements against the Riileb militia force. If they had managed to pin down another Byrn'adul task force, then the Riilebs were not to be underestimated.

[Understood.] replied Krarolk, sending a telekenetic message back to its sender. [Our Zealot Elite trio is approaching your location.]

Without any further hesitation, the Zealots charged into the heart of the enemy force, combing the swamp foilage for hidden snipers.

​

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Two
Tags: Kad | Osam | Krarolk T'manu

The other two were running frantically through the swamp. She felt the water heat up, causing her to expel a growl as they discharged blaster bolts wildly into the water, they missed her, at least, for now. The great battle she had missed before had still left her with a bit of a sore thigh, and she didn’t want to replicate that on any part of her body. They were getting closer, more accurate. Was the light from the blaster bolts illuminating her through the murky water, or were they just getting lucky?

She didn’t really want to find out. She emerged from the water and let out an ear-shattering shriek at the two, causing them to fumble with their weapons, she compounded it with the force which only heightened their fear. And with that, their fates were sealed. She gripped both of them through the water, pulled them apart, then pushed them together, grinding their heads against each other until she felt something give way. The heads a rather strong part of the body their noses were the first to go, then their snouts. She didn’t’ waste time trying to break their foreheads, they were dazed anyway.

Instead, she started to rip limbs from their sockets, ignoring their screeches of agony as she decorated the swamps a little to cause a bit of fear for anyone else who would continue down the area. She threw one head up into the trees, a foot a few meters away, an arm even farther, throwing as hard as she could, and so forth.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: Rip, Rend and Raid
Post: Seven
Tags: Galak | Primarch Drek'ma |

The Titan played into the momentum, turning to the fourth as he moved to strike again. Tathra brought the Axe's shaft outward with his right, realigning the upper-length in his dominant hand to face the native; thrusting forward and catching the approaching spear's blade within the hook of the blade, pushing it aside and thrusting again directly into the chest of the native; an explosion of blood splattering all across Tathra's arms and face as the natives chest were destroyed, evaporated into a mixture of red mist and guts as his frail corpse slid across the ground in a pool of its own blood.

The last native swung high, thrusting its spear into the centre of Tathra's back. The Titan cried out in pain, dropping his Axe as he turned around as the native pulled the spear from his body to strike again, with a blur of speed Tathra knocked the spear from the natives grasp with his left hand, clamping his right paw down on the nape of the natives neck as he roared in a rage, striking with his dominant hand in an open palmed strike directly into the face of the native, the head almost entirely exploded upon impact - skull, skin and sinew splattering all around them. All that was left was a small segment of the jaw and lungs. Tathra snorted, clearing his nostrils of blood as he threw aside the body.

Natives scattered amid the Chaos, those who hadn't moved to attack Tathra now rallied to do so. Even as the ground shook, as their city burned and others turned tail and ran. Even as their war-machine slowly crept up along the edge of the horizon, all they wanted, all they could think to do was to kill him. In truth, he was honoured by the dedication. Not too dissimilar to the futile efforts of the Jedi, Tathra turned to face them; ignoring the myriad of brutalised corpses around him as he turned to face the others as they approached. Some were hesitant, others fuelled by a rage that could only come when one faced death.

 

[Kad]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Two
Tags: Sarask Hiskt | Osam | Krarolk T'manu | Sethrak |

Gredak didn't waste time, moving through the swamp as he heard the hail for assistance. Though the Zealot Shadow had no intention of running out into the hail of fire, his Kukri drawn as he slit the throat of a sniper, throwing a smaller blade into the head of another sittiling idly in a tree. They were easily spotted, Draelvasier infrared vision made easy pickings of those hidden in the treelines.

Gredak activated his helmet built communications unit; seeking to speak with the others in the vicinity. "Zealot Shadow Tenebris en route." Moments after those words were spoken, Gredak broke into a sprint that was almost immediately interrupted; tackled into the mud.

As Gredak rose, Spike Rifle in hand - opposite his stood a native holding his Kukri. The Zealot snarled, raising his rifle to fire.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: Rip, Rend and Raid
Post: Eight
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma | Galak |

He brought strength, strength to enact his will upon them and so he did. Tathra darted forward to meet them; crushing the feeble native corpses underneath as he crashed through them, bringing his Axe up high, holding it by the lower mid-length in his dominant hand and the pommel in his right, swinging the Axe low and left, slashing a native in half as the Axe spun upright and down, following through its own momentum as it came crashing down on another - crushing him into his own spear as a red splatter shot out across the ground from all angles as the ruined corpse was forced on its back. He knew they were coming, Tathra released his hold on the Axe as one came from his right; stabbing toward his thigh.

Tathra turned on the ball of his right foot, pushing away the spear with his right gauntlet as his dominant paw swiped across; slashing the face and upper-body of the native and knocking him down. Bones crushed, chest collapsing in on itself as the weak insects lungs were flooded with blood. He turned as more came, throwing his dominant paw back with an open palm, calling the Axe still buried in the corpse back to his head, tearing itself from the hand as it launched back to him.

The Titan brought the Axe across in a wild one handed strike as multiple approached, catching three with the blade; obliterating their physical forms as he darted forward, cocking his wrist to bring the Axe's blade facing outward as he now swung from right to left, pushing away the spear of a native as he stepped down on the natives leg with his right foot, crushing the leg into a puddle of mush, right hand grasping the insectoid skull in its hand as he stepped around the crippled native and hurled the broken body at two approaching.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Rip, Rend and Raid
Tags: Galak

The Primarch leaned forward, setting aside his timid curiosity for what was needed. Directness. The strength of the Emissaries was not something that was taken lightly, Galak had to be strong. No doubt he was a capable warrior, but indeed he had to be more than that.

"You. Emissary Galak." Drek'ma explained, his focus directed toward the Emissary entirely now. He could smell the conflict, the anger. It was valid of course, for one to struggle. To struggle was to live, but to surpass struggle was to be Draelvasier.

"You are troubled. I understand. But you can not allow it to control your decision." The Primarch was no seer, but somehow he felt his comments would not go over lightly.

 

[Galak]

Objective: Rid, Rend and Raid
Post: Five
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma |

A low growl of irritation escaped the Emissary as Drek'ma confronted the issue so directly. Though he didn't know what else he had expected or quite planned for. Maybe this was why he'd sought out the Primarch in the first place, he knew the older Drael would give it to him straight, no sugar coating. Some of the younger Draelvasier of their flock were intimidated by his rank.

But what they didn't realise was that not too long ago it was him in their place, him standing as Brute Minor with little more than a few plates of verikast and a spiker between him and grievous wounds. But even that armour couldn't keep you safe. Nothing could, at least not in the way many hoped.

"I understand, Primarch..." Galak lost his verabl communication abilities to his own silence, quietness sweeping over the room as he looked down at his hands, familiarising himself with who he was, where and why.

 

[Sethrak]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Three
Tags: Tathra Khaeus Osam Galak Primarch Drek'ma Sarask Hiskt Kad

Sethrak continued dodging the blaster fire as reinforcements slowly arrived. It would certainly be enough to repel the attack, but Sethrak felt no relief. He had failed this task, and shown weakness. This must not be tolerated. He would save his pride.

With that in mind, Sethrak focused, commanding the force to augment his speed. Combined with his agile form and muscular build, he would be hard to see and hit. He waited for a break in the firing, and ran from cover toward the enemies. Unsure of how much oil had evaporated from his spear, he dodged as much as he could, blocking only a few necessary shots. Within thirty seconds of dodging, blocking, and wading through the calf-deep marsh, he had reached the enemy. The insects stopped firing, and drew small weapons. Others held their weapons like clubs. Sethrak didn't hesitate, kicking the nearest opponent, the force of the blow knocking it into two other bugs behind him. Sethrak then swung the spear in a wide arc, slicing three of the militia, ripping through their exoskeletons with ease, sizzling from their juices meeting the hot metal.

As Sethrak fought, more and more bugs joined the fray, stopping their assault on the other Bryn'adul. All he had to do was stay alive. Easy, these weren't soldiers, and their weapons would barely scratch him. The only issue now: He had called the others for a task this easy. He truly did need their aid, but would they understand how dire the situation had truly been? They would have to take his word for it.

The embarrassment truly made his blood boil. Though his vision was red already, he saw red. A darker red, almost crimson. The color of rage. He continued the slaughter, moving to a cluster of five insectoids. He ran one through with his spear, using the limp body to make the spear a mace. He brought it over his right shoulder, and swung, hitting the four remaining bugs. The force of the impact caused the body to fly off the spear. Sethrak the brought it up in a throwing position, and threw it at a well-armed foe. He didn't watch the spear hit the target. He knew it would hit.

The fight continues.

 

[Kad]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Three
Tags: Sethrak | Krarolk T'manu | Sarask Hiskt |

Gredak aimed for the head, ready to drop the insect weakling before he could get close, pulling in on the trigger. Yet nothing, the Zealots eyes grew wide as he realised his rifle was jammed. The mud no doubt clogged the weapons systems.

The insectoid saw his surprise and capitalised on it, lunging forward with the Kukri in hand, attempting to stab at his mid-section. Gredak brought his rifle low, using it to block the blade with his right hand, jamming the Kukri into the weapons barrel.

In unison with his trick, he used his left hand to strike the insects back, throwing him down into the muck on his back; the Kukri firmly jammed into the weapon; using it as anchor to flip the insectoid over until his arm was at a weak angle.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Rip, Rend and Raid
Tags: Galak |

It seemed his intuition was correct. The Primarch had become an excellent judge of character, of intent and motive over these years of having to watch his back. Whilst Galak indeed directed his rage outwart, its focus was motivated by inward reflection.

A Warrior should not become stagnant over failings, for that is truly failing. Mistakes and failures are part of life. Being a failure was something else entirely and worse than death for most Draelvasier. The baedurin in particular had a fixation with these the tenets that brought them closer to lethality in battle, but also a death upon many spears.

Galak did not seem all too different from those he would consider part of that category. He was honour bound, he cared about those under his command. Not too dissimilar to the Titan himself. Ah yes - the answer revealed itself.

"Remember your teachings under the Chieftain. Remember what he told you, showed you. It will reveal your inner strength, Emissary." His tone and expression may have been blank, mundane. But the Primarch truly believed the answers could be found if Galak simply looked.

Or so he hoped.

 

[Kad]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Four
Tags: Osam ! Krarolk T'manu | Sethrak | Sarask Hiskt |

The Zealot kicked the insectoid in the armpit and staggered back, reaching for the Kukri and attempting to pry it from the gun. Yet his efforts were not enough, not quite quickly enough as the native rose once again; diving through the mud at his feet and taking him to the ground.

Gredak still held onto the broken rifle, but it seemed the native was more agile - rising to his feet quickly and using the Zealot as an anchor to pry the Kukri free himself. Gredak snarled as the insectoid native started hacking and slashing at him.

The Zealot used the gun as a shield, blocking blow after blow until he got at a good position, kicking upward with both of his feet into the insectoid's stomach, knocking it back and allowing him him to rise to his feet.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: HUNT
POST: THREE
TAGS: Kad | Osam | Sethrak
APPROACHING GREDAK's LOCATION (KRAROLK)

The cries of the Riileb turned to screams as the Elites made quick work of them.
​

Those hiding amidst the trees were ripped away from their cover and torn apart by the weapons and fists of the Elites. Krarolk, who had become a quick learner in regards to channeling his inner energies, had begun manipulating the swampy ground to sink individual trees, suffocating snipers in the mud beneath them. Riileb higher up, closer to the canopy of the marsh flora, were struck by the Zealot Commander's Wendigo Spiker 2A, jagged spikes coming through both sides of their oval-shaped skulls. Abvor used his superior strength and weaponry to scatter gathered Riileb forces and tear their bodies apart at point-blank range. Overall, the killing spree of the Zealot Elite trio was going well.

"We're running out of enemies!" called out Abvor to the other two Elites.
"Maybe we did our job too well." joked Krarolk, eliciting a chuckle from Abvor and the Commander.
"Well, let's meet up with the force that needs our help and finish off these insects." concluded the Zealot Elite Commander, before resuming his stride.

The trio walked past a swamp filled with almost as much Riileb blood as water, with numerous fires rising on distant swampy islands. It was a wonderful sight, a sign that their culling of the impure continued in earnest. With this brief reprieve in combat, the Elites could reflect on the situation at hand and regain some of their lost stamina. Krarolk continued to manipulate the mud underneath him, making it easier for the trio to walk across the moist ground. However, his pond of spiritual energy was close to drying. Sinking several trees into the mud had taken its toll on the Zealot, and he would likely have to choose between investing his remaining energy on making platforms in the mud or sinking more Riileb structures. Ultimately, he chose the former.

The trio arrived in an area further inland with lighter foliage, where small skirmishes still continued.

"Split up and support our kin." ordered the Commander.

The other two Zealot Elites wordlessly obliged, splitting off from the Commander's straight line at roughly 40 degree angles.

Krarolk rushed forwards to the right, the denser ground requiring less of his spiritual energy to stay solid. Consequently, he could accelerate his pace, entering a light sprint. As he continued to accelerate, he noticed a duel in the distance. A Byrn'adul whose classification he couldn't identify was engaging a singular Riileb, the two exchanging a relatively even amount of blows. While Krarolk normally wouldn't want to steal glory from his kin, today's slaughter was for quantity rather than quality. If too much time was wasted on singular enemies, then many of them would escape their grasp. Krarolk tossed his right throwing axe instinctively, so fast that he wasn't able to imbue it. However, the Riileb that had just been staggered had little way to deflect the axe coming from right behind him.

The axe penetrated the Riileb's back and its blade emerged out of its chest, bringing some of its innards along with it. Moments after the corpse touched the ground, Krarolk had arrived above it, ripping the axe out of the mutilated body.

"Shall we continue?" inquired Krarolk to the other Byrn.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: Hunnt
Post: Three

Sarask swam along. She’d run out of prey before, and the ones who went through the route she was so kind as to decorate would most likely drown with their stupidity. Thus, she had to go in search of new prey. But where? She could just continue swimming along until she reached something, or someone. That was probably the best thing to do. There were so many of these creatures she wasn’t sure why they weren’t bombing them, maybe the leaders just wanted a bit of sport for weaklings. The fight a while back was a nasty one, or so she thought.

Of course, with this kind of hunt and the flimsiness of the creatures that they were killing, it was going to get rather old rather fast. A few necksnaps here and there, swim around in the water a little bit and then go and wait for the next assignment. Maybe she could find someone actually challenging here, but that’d probably be about avoiding blasterfire, which wasn’t her favourite feat.

She noticed a few figures in the swamp, a little blurry, but she could see them. She started swimming their way. The worst thing about the swamp wasn’t really the creatures she had to avoid or the humid hotness, it was that some areas were wet and waterlogged, while others weren’t, she often had to trudge her way around as much as swim, not to mention her crystalline outer skin had become caked in mud.

 

[Vertask]

Objective: Hunt
Post: One

The smell of the blood of her enemy, the fear, it all melded into one. The hunt called and Vertask would answer. There was something about the hunt, the killing of her prey, something that appealed to her, the lust for the kill. Crack. It was on.
She departed her tree moving too the next, closing in on the source of the sound, one of these bug creatures clumsy in their escape. The last mistake it would ever make. She was down and on it. Cleaving in two with her blade, blood spraying her and the surrounding foliage. Oh how they tried to hide, pinning one with a spear through thick bush. Oh how they ran, slicing the legs before going for the head. Growling escaping her lips as she ripped through the party. One by one they fell. Screams, blood, SLAUGHTER.
She felt a sting. You dare attack me, she thought, grabbing the creature by it's neck and smashing the skull against a tree. This was far too easy. Her brothers and sisters spread out hunting with her. None would survive this day and as a hunter it was Vertasks job to ensure that not a single one did.

The first group taken out she moved on, diving into the water. As much as she loved the appeal of being covered in gore, a clean scent was more important. Moving back onto land, keeping low and moving slowly. The scent of another, that way, she bounded off. The hunt called, Vertask answered, and slaughter was the rule of the day.

 

[Kad]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Five
Tags: Osam | Vertask | Sarask Hiskt | Sethrak |

Gredak rose from the mud, fists drawn and ready to fight. But his challenge was not met, an Axe ruptured through the chest of the insect, its body dropping down into the mud as a Zealot Elite made his way toward Gredak and his opponent. Gredak lowered his fists, his guard loosening as the adrenaline rushed from him. His fight had been taken from him, a worthy enemy strucken down by a stab in the back. He didn't know why he didn't like it - he did it plenty.

Gredak snorted, wiping the mud from his face as he picked up the Kukri from the limp fingers of the insectoid. The Zealot Elite spoke, suggesting they continue. Gredak put his damaged Rifle on his back, taking the Shredder from his thigh, he checked the clip.

The Zealot Shadow hid his resentment well, but he didn't like being upstaged.

"Let's move." Gredak didn't wait his 'saviour' and rushed past the Elite toward the sounds of combat.

 

[Galak]

Objective: Rid, Rend and Raid
Post: Six
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma | Tathra Khaeus |

As always, the Primarch was wiser than Galak could ever hope to be. The Brute Emissarry nodded, thinking but before he could respond, a massive explosion erupted from the battlefield beyond. The Emissary immediately turned to the tablet, the holographic showcase of the battlefield refreshed showing that the Phalanx had broken through, the Murdaks and Brumaks having destroyed the main contingent terrain holding back their forces. Galak had somewhere to be. No words were needed, both knew where Galak needed to be and it wasn't here.

The Brute took up his Turret, setting the Tower Shield position into a ready frame; but not fully prepared. Galak nodded to the Primarch and rushed from the platform. The Brute broke into a full on sprint, rushing through the ranks of their forces back to his Phalanx at the front-line.

"Make way! Move!" Galak growled, their lines separating as Galak moved to the front alongside his 10th Regiment Phalanx Brutes, his Shield opening up fully - the insectoid warriors rushed at them whilst their civilians escaped, the heavy turrets of the Phalanx ripped into the enemy, turning hundreds into flesh and mulch,

Up ahead, they could see the Chieftain - they had broken through to reach him.

"Fight! Push to the Chieftain and FIGHT!"

 

[Vertask]

Objective: Hunt
Post: Two
Tags: Osam | Gredark | Sarask Hiskt | Sethrak |
(I Hope I did that right)

A pack of her kin hunting nearby, the screams of the bugs as they fell to the blade. She clicked in excitement. A larger pack up ahead, more fear, more blood. She moved off away from her kin, after all she didn't want her hunt spoiled. Sprinting, bushes passing her. A quick jump throwing a branch into a trap before moving past it. Those dumb bugs, did they honestly think they could take a huntress as grand as her.
Another closter. another slaughter. Weapons thrown back at her, she dodged and struck fast. Cleaving, tearing, blood coating her again as she made her way through them.
Thud. A mace slammed into the shield on her arm. Apparently one was good enough to land a strike. Swiping, parying the two began to dual. Vertask would grapple but the deadly spike on the tail of the weapon dissuaded her. A warrior and a good one at that.
Clicking happily, finally a good fight. They charged, Her blade coming down and hitting them in the shoulder, the spike carrying on and slamming into the meat of her hip. The bugs jaws opening trying to bite her. A suicide strike, mildly impressive. Her other hand moved fast, cracking of carapace and blood, ripping the head free
"Good fight. But not good enough." Inspecting the wound, barely a scratch. Time to keep going. more blood more hunt.

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

Post # 1
Tags: Tathra Khaeus | Osam | Sethrak | Kad | Primarch Drek'ma | Galak | Sarask Hiskt | Krarolk T'manu

A flurry of blaster bolts ruptured through the air. The haze of crimson energy flooded the open spaces on the humid world of Riileb. The pressing forces of the Bryn'adûl tore through the persistent insectoid natives. The quick succession of their ranks were steadfast in their defense, their way of life threatened by the embolden Draelvasier. They refused to go quietly, the once calm world torn asunder in war. It was fortunate that the Draels were built for such an occasion, in most cases welcomed it like a hot meal. Despite what the many thought of war, one Aeravalin had to suffer through them, Sylok'Vanari.

The blinding lights of hellish fire whisked past him. It wasn't the first time he was forced into the midst of battle. Others of the Order remained afar, waiting for the lacerated and disemboweled Draels to be rushed off the field and into their ever-weaving hands. Sylok couldn't remain still, the sight from before showing him a gruesome picture of death and wailing despair from his own people. It didn't matter how strong, those on the ground called for a graceful hand equipped to help them in some way. Whether treatable or not, Sylok would be their savior. Provided those in agonizing pain would even allow him. Some were prideful, complacent to accept the help of a weaker and intellectual Aeravalin, one that was shorter than most. Still, there he stood his tongue licking the air to test the warmth that made him sweat. Sylok hated it, the heat. His anatomy wasn't built for a world like Riileb, but those beneath him demanded his presence.

Sylok's eyes locked onto the first churning drone, weeping as it cried out for help in their language. Sylok could feel his legs tiring, but quickly moved with the grace of an Aeravalin, ducking beneath the bolts of fire that tested his evasive awareness. He jumped and slid across the murky water, finding purchase as he landed on his knees and into the weakened Drone. The lengthy fingers that latched onto the side of the tearful warrior tugged lightly. forcing the body onto its back. The creature swatted upward, its face mauled of its sight.

Unfortunate.

The thought was quick, he looked over the scars that embedded into the crustacean-like skin. It was clear to him now, a vibroblade could only cut so deep, at least without the famous burn indication from lightsabers. It was the one weapon he hated most, dealing with wounds at such a degree of heat was more difficult to work with. Thankfully, this wasn't the case. Worse off though, Sylok couldn't help the poor Drones sight, not with both eyes missing. The stream of darkened blood flowed delicately from the now empty sockets. It was a brutal way to lose sight. Sylok made the judgement quickly, turning his head away from the drone as he gripped tightly onto the strange shell like protrusions on the side of its face. With his own strength he twisted the head to the right, slowly. The words of reassurance slipped from his mouth as a lie.

"It'll be okay, you'll be remembered like the rest." Sylok's voice grew somber, but loud enough for the Drone to relax.

As soon as Sylok felt the body ease up, he yanked the head violently in the opposite direction. A loud SNAP rang through the hailstorm of blaster fire. Without sight, the warrior would've been useless, if it even made it out of battle, ridiculed. Putting it out of its misery was the only option. Sylok looked down at his not-so feeble hands. A small smudge of blood reminding him of who and what he was. He turned his head back to see the result, he already knew the warrior was dead. Carefully, Sylok peeked over the tall grass that hid him, Riileb after Riileb continued to crash into their forces. Distracted by the sheer amount of blood and death that continued, he stared. A sudden ping of realization struck him. It was too late now to contemplate, maybe for another time, he thought. A new scream alerted him as a large explosion shook the ground, a spray of muddy water washing over him as a crater formed a few feet away. Shrieks and cries of help flooded in.

Sylok stood, frantic to find those calling out. It was just another reminder...

They were at war. ​

Template Made By: Annasari ​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: Rip, Rend and Raid
Post: Nine
Tags: Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Sylok'Vanari |

His right hand clenched around the upper torso of the Riileb native, dropping to one knee as he slammed the insectoid into the ground; the duracrete beneath their feet cracking as blood bubbled from the cracks, the head of the native cracked open like an egg, flesh seeping out from its limp broken head as Tathra rose again. Corpses littered the street, explosions rippled through the wood-metal buildings.

The citadel of Riileb strained under its own wait, the massive wooden building burned through its centre, the sound of its collapse could be heard even before it began to move, it shuddered and cried as the massive construct crumbled into the city, a massive wave of ash rising through the streets. Tathra rose his gauntlets in front of his face, closing his eyes as the debris carried through the dust chipped at his armour and carapace.

"Aaarhg..." The Titan growled low, waiting for the ash to settle as the massive citadel crumbled.

The bodies at his feet were half-buried, he looked down at them - blood, ash and dirt mixing to make small puddles among the corpses. Half forgotten already, behind him he could hear the rumble of heavy boots and spike fire. The Phalanx of the 10th Regiment, and ahead of them a sea of Riileb warriors who were retreating, directly toward him. Ra'maks swung overhead, covering the Titan's position as he stood alone against the approaching horde.

He could hear Galak in the distance. Tathra raised his Axe, thrusting it into the air. He honoured the approach of the Phalanx, and their enemy would be crushed between their lines.

"Fight on! Fight!" Tathra called out to their Warriors, swiping outward with a powerful kinetic swing - the red wave cutting down dozens of Riileb warriors.