Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Night of Culling | Sakiya

[Kad]

Objective: A
Post: Two
Tags - Osam |

Gredak did not physically respond as the one called Osam. The Sraelvun could not see it, but a scowl of disgust covered the face of the Zealot. As the Drones passed bellow, rallied by the supposedly 'risen-srael' Gredak turned away only to notice the other Zealots looking his way. The Zealot shifted uncomfortably as he felt their gazes on him.

It'd been long since the Zealots who looked down on him had had unfortunate accidents, as much as he was out for himself, these Zealots saw him as an Elite. "Why do you hate them so much?" The closest asked him, Gredak half-shrugged as he scanned the area. This mission was quieter than most.

"They're wrong. Just wrong. Above their station."

The Zealots seemed to look among one and other before looking back to Gredak. The Zealot Elite looked grimly back as they stared with churlish grins. "Think you could take him?"

"It."

"And yes."

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Five
Objective: A |
Tags: TBD

The Syphons were moving into the next, disabling the majority of the neon electronics to allow unrestricted travel for the Draeyde. The Sakiyans were starting to use search lights to try and deter the Draeyde. Though as much as their tricks were effective.

There was only so long they could hold off the invading Brutes and Drones from taking their various strongholds. It would only be a matter of time before the pressure became too much and they were entirely overrun. The Primarch could feel it.

One by one, search lights began to flicker and die out. Panic cut through them quicker than any spike round nor creature, a shriek escaping from one female as their light died. The Primarch's face remained unmoving as he stared down below.

 

[Tarad Morko]

Post: Two
Objective: Watch
Tags - Tathra Khaeus | Krarolk T'manu |

It made him sick. He felt his body almost twitch instinctively, ready to go. Go. go. go! He felt everything in him want to run, but not away from the battle that would be certain death. But from this burden, this sickening burden of being forced to watch all of... this.

The Jedi watched with intent focus as one after another, innocents were cut down. He could feel himself shake, his head moving as if unconvinced of what he had seen. The Jedi watched more, watched until he couldn't as his left lower arm forced him behind cover and away.

Averting his eyes from the pain and horror made him feel like a coward. An even bigger one than he already was by not simply facing the Bryn'adûl leader here and now. But that begged the question, where was the Galactic Alliance? The Silver Jedi? Where were the Jedi when those whom they swore to defend, well and truly needed them?

 

[Galak]

Post: 4
Objective: C
Tags - Sarask Hiskt

"Gruagh." The Brute groaned as he pulled himself up, he thought to bring his right leg forward first; forcing his knee over the edge as he pulled himself upright.

He took the Spiker from his hip, activating his compact shield on his left arm as he began to analyse the situation. Their own had been forced to pull back, the Sakiyans had blown the bridge. Blaster fire struck the back of the large Brute as he rose, his left armed shield only about able to cover a small portion of the fire coming his way.

"Move! Support the emissary!" The Brute soldiers moved to supply suppressing fire as the Emissary made a brake for it, sprinting between rockets and blaster fire towards his Warriors. It was moments like this, where the marksmanship of the 10th Regiment came in handy.

Whilst their enemies might've had a temporary upper hand, the Brutes of the 10th regiment had dealt with worse.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: C

Post: Four

With her grisly effigies collected, she began running again. As usual, she had memorised the layout of the city she was in. The harbour was next. What was it called again? Lepatap Harbour, yes. She began running out of the alleyway. Judging from how far she had come and the alleyway she was sure she was in, it wasn’t too far. There was a bridge between where she was now and the harbour, if she got there before the panic set in, she could cause a little more.

She became a blur as she enhanced her speed using the force, faster and faster. Jump. Kick a wall, now she had turned. She was getting better at that. She soon saw the bridge, it wasn’t too wide, and wasn’t at all the only one, but every little helped.

She stopped at the beginning, spilling the skulls and spines of the creatures she had killed or harvested, and began adorning the bridge’s entrance with them, sticking a skulled spine here, just a skull there. She nodded to herself. She wondered how the creatures would react to seeing their dead kin. Would they avoid the bridge, or just go straight past them? She’ll probably never know, she intended to be gone by then.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Six
Objective: A |
Tags: TBD

He watched as a single black tendril of hundreds of Draeyde invaded the corridor they now hid in; faint screams cut short by a bloody and gruesome demise. The Primarch reached out, to all those that held fear. He offered a light, a hope, he offered refuge.

Many gladly mentally accepted his telepathic hand. Though they yet did not realise what hope he offered. He felt them all, connected to him. A gasp escaped him, one of exhilaration as they themselves and their thoughts, hopes and fears flowed through him.

"Fear not, natives. For in your beautiful death, you will become more - children of Khaeus."

A smile crept across his face. One of pride, and much arrogance.

 

[Galak]

Post: 5
Objective: C
Tags - Sarask Hiskt


"Shields!" The three Heavy Brutes of their group moved ahead of the rest, Pavium at the front as reach moved forward with their tower shields in hand. They closed the gaps between them as they made it past the Brute Emissary. Galak turned his right foot inward, coming to a stop on the ball of his foot as he turned to use the Shields as cover. The other Brutes moved to join him, using the Phalanx to slowly push forward. Every few steps they'd start peaking out.

The Emissary handed his Spiker to one of the Minors, taking his Spike Rifle for himself. They needed to start putting down their ranged shooters before they shot.

Otherwise they'd be quickly flanked, as much as Galak preferred the Verkiast armours over the old Malabast plate, joints were still vulnerable. Especially from the sides. "Grenadiers! Watch the flanks!"

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Seven
Objective: A |
Tags: TBD

They were trapped within his grasp. Trapped in his mind, each beast under his control acting as a conduit from which he could reach out from. They empowered him, they elevated his abilities as they spread the fear and insanity that was birthed from the force empowered thoughts of the Primarch.

"Step out, into the open. Show yourselves! Let us grant you.. purpose."

With his command, several dozens if not hundreds throughout the city would lay down their arms and march out from their homes. They would submit themselves as the culling would well and truly take them. The Draeyde would carve through the cloth and the flesh until there was nothing left.

 

[Osam]

Objective A
Post 2

Another of the Sakiyan strongholds was put down with roughly the same effort as the last. Minimum casualties had befallen the group of Sraelvun and their Risen leadership, especially after the spotlights that couldn't be reached by the Arevallicar Syphons had simply been blown away via Spiker fire. All of the fanciful defense tactics utilized by the natives amounted to little when they could be resolved with something as simplistic as opening fire on a target, but they wouldn't have time to meditate on their folly. The Draeyde had made certain of that when they had poured into the suddenly available enclave, tearing everything within to shreds as they feasted on the flesh of the unworthy.

As Osam observed the band of fledgling defenders be removed from existence, another more dramatic culling was also underway. He watched from the durasteel structure as hundreds of the weak and civilian stepped free from their residences, their eyes looking almost glazed in the way they simply meandered into certain doom. Had they been coerced by the unseen powers of the Seers, or placed under some binding by means of the Warlocks? It was impossible to be sure without further investigation, but for now it definitely looked as though something unnatural had overtaken their very minds, either forcing or persuading them to step free from their homes.

They fell as was to be expected. Osam wasn't even sure if they were trying to fight back when the flurry of Draeyde came down upon them. Occasionally, he thought he saw them flail as they were torn asunder, but it was possible those were just animalistic reactions to sudden and excruciating pain. Had they wanted to surrender themselves to the Crusade? Did they expect mercy, or did they know that they would be annihilated for their trouble. It was a curious spectacle to observe, but it presented more questions than it did answers. Why couldn't such a thing be forced upon each and every world instead of forcing warriors to fight and die for the cause? Would it make them weak to allow such powerful beings to enact the Titan's will?

He glanced upwards again, scouring the rooftops for the presence of the Zealots, curious to see what their responses were to the unfolding events. His elevation to a position of some status had been recent, but perhaps their extended education would provide answers to what he was seeing. It would be enough for now, at least, to see their facial expressions and know whether they were amused or surprised or even shocked.

Primarch Drek'ma | Kad

 

[Kad]

Objective: A
Post: Three
Tags - Osam

The Zealots continued forward without much in the ways of conversation, silently tailing the force of Risen lead Drones as they unexpectedly continued to succeed in every engagement. Gredak was frustrated by it, but in his head he tossed it up to the fact the Draeyde were annihilating any hunkered down resistance they came across. Then, something else entirely happened. The Zealot squad grinded to a halt as dozens if not maybe a hundred they could count walked free from their homes like puppets.

The Zealot shuffled uncomfortably, watching as they were slowly devoured by the merciless packs of Draeyde. In truth, he'd seen things like this before. Machinations of battle meditation and telepathy, it made their passage easier sometimes. But, all the same their skills and combat abilities continued to be tested. Everything had their limits, including force users. Some break free of the power, and turned to open fire on the Drones below. Others did the same above, opening fire on the Zealots.

Gredak saw his opportunity, dropped down onto a lower railing and shot the first Drone before the stupid creature could call out the grenade about to be tossed by a rebel. These Drones were handheld, given unfair fights and advantages. They had to learn they couldn't predict or account for everything.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Three
Objective: B
Tags - Krarolk T'manu | Kyrim Tenebris | Tarad Morko

The Zealots dove into the gaps Tathra created as he blew threw the personal defences of the Sakiyan forces with his vorpal blows. If there were force users among them, they were few and far between and untrained. It was almost entirely a battle of melee combat, and the sheer physical feats of the Zealots and their diversity of both Aeravalin and Baedurin warriors made them particularly dangerous and versatile combat groups. They crushed and outmanoeuvred, beginning to attempt to encircle the Sakiyans and pushing them towards the cut off escape route.

Slowly, they'd corner them. Tathra charged into the masses, trampling some as he kicked out with his right leg, knocking back and killing the large thin creature as he threw himself into the momentum as his right foot came down on the ground, quaking as he slashed with his dominant one-handed grip; turning the next Sakiyan into a spray of red mist and guts. His right grasping just below his dominant hand at the end of the initial swing. He used that grasping point as an anchor, his right hand directing the Long-Axe as he slashed right, cutting another in half as his dominant arm pulled up and swung vertically inward and right, knocking down another with a strike of the shafts pommel before cutting down another as the Axe head came round.

Tathra noted the approach of more warriors, a group seemingly meaning to attack him. Tathra released the Long-Axe back into his dominant hand before bringing the shaft of the Axe along the back of his arm, goading them close before swinging upward with the Axe, switching to grasping the shaft between his index and thumb, using his hand as a swivel, spinning the length of the Axe around from below and inside of his wrist to the outside and a top his wrist as immediately two were cut down.

Bringing the Axe high, Tathra released the Long-Axe into the grasp of his right hand, grasping just above the handguard and cocking his wrist, bringing the upper-length of the Axe low and blocking the strike of a Sakiyan vibrosword before pulling the Axe upward, hooking the sword from underneath and punching his left fist into the abdomen of the Sakiyan, sending him careening back through the crowd as pain lurched through Tathra's body. The Titan turned his head as a Spear was drove into his collar, between his bones. The Sakiyan had used Tathra's lurched form to leap at him and it worked. He snarled as black blood exploded into his mouth, running from the spaces between his mouth as his left and dominant arm wrapped around the Spear, trapping it between his bicep and wrist; snapping the spear's blade from the staff as he thrust the Long-Axe into the Sakiyan's chest, splitting him in half.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: C
Post: Five

And thus, it was back to skulking. Sarask moved around the harbour not quite going into it, just moving along, ignoring the odd creature that was probably kept as a companion to someone. Of course, life in the city was beginning to wake up a fair amount as the Bryn’adul made their way through some parts of the City.

Coming from another bridge, saw a contingent of soldiers, lead by someone at the back. At least, she thought they were led by it, he was dressed a bit more gaudily than the rest. The first few soldiers had just about exited the bridge by the time Sarask got into position. She waited until they had all but crossed, then barrelled forward, silent as a greased train, and hit like one too.

She grabbed the officer’s face as she moved silently behind him, dragging the man(?) away from his unit with nary a sound, softened by the force. She felt a light sting as she made it into an alleyway, growing rougher. She instinctively dropped the officer, he had penetrated her crystalline armour with a vibroknife, and was getting up. She drew her weapons.

 

[Galak]

Post: 6
Objective: C
Tags - tbd

The Grenadiers started firing into the open windows with their Bryn Shots, flushing the enemy out of cover and easing the pressure applied on the small group of Brutes. Galak hadn't used a marksmen rifle in a long time, but all the same he was taking down their snipers, after a few misses anyway.

"Forward thrust!" The Brute growled in his native tongue a bark of an order for the depths of his stomach, calling for the Heavies to start a forward sprint. They were slower with the Shields of course, but it stopped them from getting torn apart. It wouldn't be far now till they reached the gap in the bridge. But their forces had pushed back their enemy to secondary defences. The next step was getting across.

Their charge ground to a halt as they came to the destroyed section of the bridge.

"We've got to jump it! Grenadiers, suppressing fire!" The Grenadiers didn't make much of a response, simply flanking out on either side as they overcharged their Bryn Shots, firing a whole clip in rapid fire; covering the entire enemy fortification in a blinding blaze of explosive firepower.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: B (DESTROY THE HARBOR & ELIMINATE THE IMPURE)
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE, AND 30x 16x Barad Impact Grenades
IN THE VICINITY: Kra'rolk's Zealot Elite Squad | Kyrim Tenebris | THE Tathra Khaeus
DETECTED: Tarad Morko
THEME: Super Gore Nest

He had thrown fourteen grenades, sinking five ships.​

After sinking two ships with five grenades each, Krarolk had figured out a more efficient method of destruction. The ships had a central engine room whose destruction could cause the entire ship to sink, so Krarolk began a cycle of infiltrating a ship, eliminating any armed crew members, throwing a grenade in the engine room, and bolting. The strategy had proven effective, and the flames of sinking vessels filled the sky around him. He infiltrated a sixth boat without trouble, breaking down its interior doors with his bare hands as he tore his way towards the engine room. Upon arriving in the room, he tossed a grenade and fled back to the port. Seconds after Krarolk left the ship, it was split in two by a powerful explosion. Now, Krarolk had exactly half of his original grenade compliment left.

As the explosion briefly illuminated his surroundings, Krarolk noticed something. A shadow, while mostly concealed, stood out amidst the square crates and cylindrical barrels filling the dock. The shadow's curves and bumps resembled those of an organic being, one that was not of Drael physique. As soon as it had appeared, the shadow vanished into the darkness brought about by the waning light of the explosion. Yet the Zealot couldn't help but to question whether or not someone was watching him. The Cheftian and his squad were preoccupied, and the other two Zealot Elites were creating their own trails of destruction. If a fight were to occur here, it would likely, at least for a few minutes, be a personal duel. Seeing no other options, Kra'rolk decided to see if the shadow had been a being, or if it was merely an illusion. He sent his spiritual energy into one of his throwing axes and tossed it towards a box adjacent to where the shadow had been, and waited for a reaction, if any.​

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Eight
Objective: A |
Tags: TBD

He felt the life drained from him, so many minds taken and so suddenly torn away by death. Drek'ma's legs failed him as he stumbled, collapsing to the ground as the sheer effort of his coercion had made him weak, frail even. He broke his fall with his staff.

Drek'ma missed the ground as his stump just slammed into the ground, instinct took over and he forgot his lost limb. When the Primarch clattered to the floor, he let go of his staff; resolving to sit for a moment. The ambitious Primarch had to remind himself that he was indeed, a Beast Master.

He was not a god, the force was limitless but he indeed was limited to his physical mortal coil. A cold shudder ran over him for a moment as he seemingly forgot and remembered that the Draeyde were also under control of other Shamans on the surface. Fear followed by immediate relief allowed him to remain on the ground.

Just a moment, of rest.

 

[Tarad Morko]

Post: Three
Objective: Escape
Tags - Krarolk T'manu | Tathra Khaeus

"Damnit!" Tarad couldn't quite tell if he'd said that because he'd been found or because he wanted to be. He couldn't stand watching, but this was the perfect opportunity. He'd faced this Zealot before, briefly. But he couldn't stay and fight. His real target was their leader, but unless he disabled this foe quickly he wouldn't have much of a chance to set up for an attempt to attack.

The Besalisk rose from the boxes, using the force to fling the Axe toward the water and away from them as he knocked the others out of his way with his two lower arms. His double bladed Staff sabers still sat on his belt. He eyed the Zealot for a moment.

If he couldn't kill an underling, what hope did he have against their leader? Tarad activated his twin Staffs, flashes of emerald green and cobalt blue covering his face as the two weapons spun in his right and left arms.

 

[Osam]

Objective A
Post 4

The gentle silence which had grown across the battlefield was suddenly reignited into brutal conflict as a few of those enraptured by the managed to overthrow the mantle of the charm which had been placed upon them. Perhaps their own reservations about the hope and a sense of innate willpower had been enough to rescue the Sakiyans from certain annihilation, or perhaps it was the spattering of blood and gore upon their forms by passing Draeyde which had reminded them of the wretched truth of their situation.

Osam felt that this was the more natural reaction to have anyways, and it was frankly preferable to the utter stillness that had otherwise overtaken the local civilians. The way that they had just stood there and allowed themselves to be torn to shreds by the raging swarms of Draeyde had been utterly uncomfortable to observe, and it left cruel questions in his mind. Could such an ability be used on members of his own race? The Sraelvun were not renowned for their mental prowess or sense of devotion and willpower. Could they be compelled to simply stand still and allow themselves to be shot through the head one-by-one?

All of the power that had been impressed upon the Seers and the Shamans and the Warlocks had always been something to gawk at and observe from afar. They wielded exceptional abilities and often managed to turn the tides of battle through their own intervention, and yet, for just a moment he wished that they were as far away from him as possible. This gnawing sense of existential threat refused to dissipate with the snap of the Sakiyans to renewed conflict, but it certainly distracted it from growing... for now.

Blaster bolts began to rain down on them anew, the Sraelvun snapping to attention and returning fire with the shrieks and hisses that often accompanied them in combat. Osam observed as one of the drones furthest from him suddenly slumped to the ground, apparently stricken in the back of the head by a powerful firearm, though the sniper couldn't be seen. An unlucky shot, he considered, shifting his eyes from the corpse a mere instant before the small orb hidden behind his body detonated. Compressed thermal energy suddenly snapped open, consuming a squad of Sraelvun and their Risen lead in an instant, flash-frying them and sending them scattered.

The deliciously unfortunate stench of cooked drone wafted through the air. Osam stared at the suddenly crisped bodies, watching as one of them began to twitch and stir, drool and fluid spilling out of its mouth as it attempted to cling to life. The Risen had always been stronger than their companions, even if they had only just recently gained that distinction. This one's bloodline had not granted it any resistance to the fiery fate it had been condemned to, however, and Osam stepped towards it with a sympathetic grunt. There was no time for any form of final rite, merely an offered hand clenching that of the Risen in re-assurance, and a spiker bolt through the skull to end it's suffering.

It was overkill, but regularly killing the thing hadn't worked as neatly as the Sakiyan who'd thrown the grenade had hoped.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

OBJECTIVE: B (DESTROY THE HARBOR & SETTLE AN OLD SCORE)
EQUIPMENT: IN SIGNATURE, AND 30x 16x Barad Impact Grenades
IN THE VICINITY: Krarolk's Zealot Elite Squad | THE Tathra Khaeus
ENGAGING: Tarad Morko
THEME: Gladiator

As the foreign being rose up, Krarolk instantly recognized his foe.​

It was the same being who Krarolk had fought on Groth, who had fled after only a few minutes in combat. Yet during their duel, it seemed as if the Master had been able to match the Zealot blow for blow, and Krarolk suspected that the being's withdrawal might have been tactical. But here, amidst the burning harbor and the carnage created by Krarolk's brethren, there would be no escape.

Krarolk ignored the lost axe, as he could always construct a new one after the duel was won. He grabbed his glaive and began to approach his opponent with a casual yet steady stride. As he slowly approached, he called upon every drop of spiritual energy within his body. The entire pond of green was sucked up until not a drop remained, all flowing up his arms. Moments later, the pond found its new home in the blade of Krarolk's glaive. The glaive's blade was lit up by a green light as bright as a plasma bolt, highly concentrated energy barely contained within the cutting edge. The Zealot called upon more mystical energy than he had in months, the glaive's blade enhanced to a far greater degree than he would utilize in normal combat. The only time in which Krarolk would risk using so much of his strength would be against an opponent whose mastery of combat rivaled his own. The imposing figure before him certainly qualified.

From now until the end of his duel, he was an offensive powerhouse. With so much of his energy in his glaive, he would be unable to reinforce his armor if it were to be damaged and his other axe would be nearly useless. However, no opponent yet had survived the brute strength of Krarolk's fully enhanced glaive.

"Let's finish what we started." spat out Krarolk in garbled Basic.

In an instant, the facade of a casual stroll was broken as the Zealot Elite broke into a hard sprint. Closing the distance in seconds, he thrust the supercharged glaive towards the Master's central internal organs with blinding speed.

​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Four
Objective: B
Tags - Tarad Morko | Krarolk T'manu |

Tathra released his grasp of the Long-Axe as a plasma lined Axe swung down at his forearm, dropping the weapon still lodged in the split-Sakiyan as another Sakiyan swung with some strange saw blade for his throat. He ducked under the strike, the spinning blades grazing his left horn as he extended his right hand in a knife chop, striking the throat of the Axe wielder to momentarily delay his next strike. His left foot struck the knee of the saw blade wielder as two more approached, one with fists and the other with a short combat dagger.

These two were taller, larger than typical. Augmented soldiers? Tathra could not tell in truth. Sakiyans were notorious for being professional hunters, super soldiers weren't surprising. The dagger wielder came from the right, but the one daring to use his fists was faster, and closer. When the Sakiyan super soldier struck with his left fist, Tathra turned into the swing with his right arm using the outside of his gauntlet to push the swing away and putting his wrist on top of the soldiers, before immediately committing to an outward swing; slamming the base of his fist into the nose and forehead of the Sakiyan super soldier.

The Titan immediately swung his right arm overhead, bringing his left hand low as the dagger was thrust toward his gut. Tathra stopped the initial thrust, but the Super Soldier immediately pulled back for another attempt. Tathra could hear the approach of the two he'd engaged moments before, turning to face them as he stepped into the Saw blade wielders strike, grasping his arm and twisting it around as he pulled his swinging arm to the breaking point with his left hand alone, punching him in the liver with the right as he pulled him down; shattering his shoulder and ribcage as he brought his saw blade in the way of the second strike of the plasma Axe and the second strike of the dagger wielding Super.

Tathra switched hands, grasping the arm of the Saw Blade wielder in his right hand as he kicked his right leg out into the side of the Axe wielders knee, knocking him to the ground, bringing his leg back to the ground and in the same motion slamming his left elbow into the spine of the Saw Blade user, shattering it and releasing him as the two Super Soldiers approached again.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Nine
Objective: A |
Tags: TBD

He rose once more, staggering to his feet almost dependent on his Staff without his left hand for balance. Drek'ma felt lingering resentment toward himself for the handicap, but it was a sense of pride that forced him to retain the wound. Of course, he could've been granted a new one by mechanisation or mutation but he had no want for either.

With some small effort he straightened himself, standing tall and proud as the Draeyde continued to cut through the silence; delivering death to every doorstep. Soon the Servitors and Ra'maks would arrive, and would turn this entire city into a buried slag heap.

There were of course, dozens of small groups of resistance left but the Drones would handle them no doubt. For himself, his work here was done.