Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Slaughter Before the Storm | Sleheyron

[Krarolk T'manu]

Objective: A
Subtask: Assassinate Vasque The Hutt
Post: 4
Equipment: In Signature + Wendigo Spiker
Tags: Galak

The humanoid soldiers were distracted and disoriented, helpless against the Elite trio that descended upon them. ​

Of the six of them, three were killed in a single shot by the bulky Zealot’s Radesh Shredder, impaled in dozens of different places. A fourth was shot cleanly through the head by the Zealot Commander, and Krarolk’s two throwing axes tore through the helmets and skulls alike of the final two soldiers. In an instant, their immediate opposition had been exterminated without a single blade or bullet hitting the trio. They instantly turned their attention towards the castle’s outer left gate, bolting towards it.

The frightened soldiers began to close the gate, choosing to remain behind their shields and walls. The men behind the walls would be ripped apart for their cowardice, and Vasque himself would soon be skewered on their glaive. Now within the confines of the castle shield, the Zealots could only be trapped in, and not forced out. They moved with inhuman speed and grace, vastly outpacing the weakened and terrified human defenders. They cleared the gate before it was halfway closed and entered an outer courtyard, empty except for the gatekeepers and the castle’s own gardens. The former met a quick end, while the latter would burn along with the rest of the planet upon its razing.

Without any further hesitation, the three Zealots approached the main castle complex.

 

[Galak]

Post Four
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu

The Brute had no time to laugh, the next push wouldn’t be so easy. Galak signalled with a silent gesture for his Brutes to divide into two groups and circle around the other staircase. Whilst Galak would prepare with his Grenadiers to fire at the turrets up ahead, their Heavies on the right would open fire with their shielded RAW’s into the crowd.

As soon as they opened fire, one of their Risen-Srael shadows peeked out over the edge; taking note of the turret positions currently opening fire on their Heavies position. The Risen-Srael used gestures to designate the positions. Ninety degrees right and forty-five left. Galak nodded to the Srael, watching it back through the crowd as the Grenadiers came forward.

“On my mark.”

Galak counted down with his hand, and in a flash of motion the Grenadiers pushed up from the safety of the staircase and opened fire on the turret positions. There were six in total, three sets at either designation the Risen had given. The Brute Grenadiers quickly destroyed them with their Bryn Shots, eliminating their need for cover.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 3
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma

______________________________

Two minds, so loud and so powerful, spoke in harmony with each other and Hrajlmak. A triumvirate in which Hrajlmak held authority. So ingrained in maintaining its stability that the breaking rock underfoot and the hushed voices making orders went by unnoticed. Hrajlmak was ripped from his concentration when a solid bludgeon smashed into the back of his head so hard he lapsed from consciousness.

He awoke the same moment he hit the floor but didn’t move. The voices behind him spoke in a language he couldn’t understand but the way in which they spoke he recognised. They were questioning each other, scrutinising their victory. He waited a moment longer. Then, as the voices drew quieter, he rolled over and sprayed a thick stream of red inferno.

Two were close enough to be immediately drenched in flame. The others, a large squad of humanoids, mostly Weequay and Humans, recoiled in a panic and fumbled to aim their weapons straight. Hrajlmak spun to his feet, yanking his staff from the ground. Barely had the squad composed themselves before Hrajlmak had buried the business end of his staff into the clavicle of the nearest Weequay.

 

[Osam]

Post Five
Objective B

The station had fallen quickly to the encroaching horde, the defensive line of the maintenance staff tumbling to the ground even more quickly than their watchmen had outside. They’d been utterly consumed by the assailing Sraelvun, and after their demise, their consumption had quickly turned more literal. While the Risen had been elevated to a status of respect and some authority in the Bryn’adul, their lesser cousins were still ostracized as a whole, utilized more as tools than people, and they took meals wherever they could be found.

Osam and a few of the other Risen had taken to the task of sniffing out any remaining dissidents in the facility, and slaying them where they hid. There was less maliciousness in their activities than in those of their kindred, having become accustomed to the nature of survival at all costs. At least in Osam’s case, he even understood why they would attempt to flee from the claws and teeth of the more powerful Sraelvun, choosing to hide away in dark corners of the facility.

One of the maintenance workers they’d caught had been sprinting headlong down a hallway, an emergency flare gun in his hand as he sought out the main refinery mixing room. He had nearly reached it as well, condemning the entire facility and everyone inside of it to a fiery death. Or, at the least, he would’ve killed most of the Srael and their Risen companions. Osam himself was quite capable of taking heat, thanks to his lineage, but that was neither here nor there.

Thankfully, he had been caught and eviscerated just outside of the room, and with the final threat to their domination of the Tibanna Gas eliminated, the Risen-Sraelvun made contact with their superiors and informed them of the subjugation of the remote facility.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

Objective: A
Subtask: Assassinate Vasque The Hutt
Post: 5
Equipment: In Signature + Wendigo Spiker
Tags: Galak

The shouts and battle cries of the Byrn’adul fighting on the main front carried over to the Zealot trio.​

They travelled through the courtyard uninterrupted, with nearly all defending soldiers focused on what they saw as the larger threat. Furthermore, the Zealot Elites had eliminated all the soldiers in their path before they could send distress calls, ensuring that their task would not be interrupted.

The side gate to the castle interior was similar in shape and structure to the side gate of the castle wall, a thin steel double door. A Radesh Shredder shot at each hinge and a kick to the door was enough to bring it down, revealing a large and ornate hallway. Its opulence reeked of greed and sloth, attributes that the Elites loathed. They would gladly eliminate the owner of this wretched facility, and then assist their kin in burning it to the ground. The Zealot trio made their way towards the core of the building, where Vasque would likely be hiding.

After roughly two minutes of running down hastily abandoned hallways, the Elites found a lead in their manhunt. A reinforced steel door ahead was guarded by six soldiers, who did not seem eager to join their allies holding back the main push. As both parties sighted each other, the Zealots realized the purpose behind their stillness.

They were among the last soldiers who remained between the three Zealot Elites and Vasque The Hutt.

 

[Galak]

Post Five
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu

“Forces push! Now!” Galak roared as they pushed up through the courtyard; both sides pushing into the enemy lines. The two forces clashed violently as he dropped his Bryn Shot, balancing the RAW against his composite shield as he opened fire with precision blasts at the approaching enemy force.

It seemed their own were outnumbered, but that rarely made much of a difference. Galak enjoyed the combat, ripping and tearing through enemies. Galak slammed his helmeted head into one that got too close, knocking him back into the wall before sticking a grenade into another’s chest and flinging him back at their enemy.

The Brutes pushed them back again, the Drones threw themselves into the fray with their melee weapons, slaughtering those who attempted to run. Galak’s forces had officially taken the front entrance of the palace. Next thing was getting inside. But first, he was interrupted with a hail. The Chieftain himself.

“Sire. We have taken the Palace entrance!”

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

Objective A
Subtask: Assassinate Vasque The Hutt
Post: 6
Equipment: In Signature + Wendigo Spiker
Tags: Galak

The soldiers opened fire, plasma rifles hurling countless bolts in the direction of the Zealots.

The trio didn’t bother evading the bolts, the small-arms fire easily absorbed by their thick armor. Krarolk’s throwing axes plunged into two of their chests, a Spiker bolt hit another, and the Radesh Shredder tore apart another two soldiers. The last soldier scrambled backwards, dropping his rifle and falling to the ground, shaking with fear.

“Where is Vasque.” asked Krarolk, bringing his menacing face close to the terrified man’s. His intermediate proficiency in Basic proved useful in times such as these, where he could extract information from weak individuals who stood in the Zealot’s path.

“H-h-he’s behind this door!” replied the soldier, terror filling his voice as much as it did his body. “The code is 4971, ple-please let me live for telling you that!”

“Coward.” concluded Krarolk in his native Drael tounge. Before the soldier could ask the Elite about what he had said, his head had been severed by the Zealot’s glaive. Tossing the head aside, Krarolk ripped his axes out from the bodies of the soldiers they had impaled and approached the door. A four-digit code entry console resided nearby, which Krarolk approached and opened up. After typing in the required digits, Krarolk pressed the “ENTER” button and watched as the door slowly opened up.

On the other side of the three meter thick reinforced steel door were four heavily armed guards and a certain Hutt leader.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post Five
Objective B

When Galak appeared in the projection from the stone, Tathra smiled at his old friend as he greeted him, even after all this time and his accomplishments, Galak was still a student of grace and war. As expected, he had handedly taken the perimeter courtyard of the Palace. Tathra nodded.

“Emissary, I’ve sent Gun Boats to support you. That Hutt will not escape. Make your push now and cut off the head of this vile Faction. Soon we will have the fuel for a thousand wars!” Tathra spoke those words not for the Emissary but those around him and the Brutes. Those alongside Pavium responded with joyous battle cries. It made the Titan grin, and with a nod to his trusted Emissary he ended the communication.

With the motion of his head, Tathra set off with the others in toe. As they made their way into the next section of the facility, their senses were immediately assaulted with vapours and fumes. Powerful ones. It made Tathra nervous about his Axe, sheathing it and taking his sword into his hand.

“Stow your rifles, we don’t want an explosion.”

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 4
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma

____________________________

He roared as he ripped the staff from its victim and swung it gracelessly at the next militia soldier. The upper shaft smacked temple-side, bursting the Human’s head. Being completely outgunned, Hrajlmak moved fast to disrupt lines of fire. He twirled around the collapsing Human, another stream of fire tracing his arc. Several were engulfed, they’re only option to scream and flail before inevitably succumbing to the blaze.

The squad had been decimated in moments with only a handful remaining. Hrajlmak fell into a combat stance and stared what remained of the group down. His six eyes gazed at each of them but they soon focused on one. The last Weequay remaining of the group. Hrajlmak probed his face. He was one of the few left of his species. Sriluur had fallen only months prior. It was in his face he saw true desperation.

Raw, unfiltered desire to kill. A rare sight in battle. Too much fear, reluctance in the weak. But the Weequay had none. He was, in this moment, the truest warrior with all virtues thereof. The others wouldn’t move. Hrajlmak grinned, and the Weequay moved. He fired off a flurry of bolts, dropped his weapon and ran forward with a metal club in hand.

 

[Galak]

Post Six
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu |

“Understood, Sire.” Was all Galak had to say, ending the transmission as the Chieftain cut off. His forces gathered round the entrance, their Risen-Srael Drone Commanders placing the charges necessary to open the doors. Galak placed the RAW on his back; turning to the other Brutes and Drones among them.

“Switch to Maulers, we’re going close quarters!” Galak said with a smile, taking out the new edition to their loadout. The weapon was heavy, and seemed to be designed off of a mixture of a RAW and the Bryn Shot platform. But he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to try them out yet, hopefully they’d work well.

“We will cut through this Palace in groups of ten, and work our way up to the Hutts secure room and assist the Zealot.” With that said, the charges set on the palace door blew, shards of glass, marble and debris sprayed out in all directions as the cusp of smoke filled the air, covering their approach. The Heavies were the first through as a Phalanx, supported by the Drones as they used their superior firepower to push through.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post Six
Objective B

This part of the facility was quiet, though Tathra did not believe that they were alone. He bent down, his eyes flickering a slightly lighter shade of yellow as his vision warped, picking up the heat of their footprints. He counted maybe twelve or fourteen. Fourteen humans against four Drael. Poor humans, the Titan thought.

“Pavium, I count fourteen. Take your Brutes right along the railway. I’ll go through the containers.” Tathra ordered his kin, nodding to them as he leapt over the railway down into the maze of containers. There was a total of four trails

Tathra moved slowly, cautiously following the warmest set of footprints. Steam spewed from the vents all around him, obscuring his vision and hopefully theirs. A downfall of being so large, everything that went over a Human’s head was in his eyes. Annoying, inefficient constructors designed solely for the benefit of those who do nothing but sit on their hides. He count the first of them quickly, cornering them and tearing out his throat.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

(Double post)

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective C
Post Four
Tags: Hrajlmak'Natok

The Primarch shifted his focus on to a singular Servitor, feeling as the creature cut through the surface of the city. It was at a critical conjuncture, the creature nearly crushed itself under the foundations. Only four pillars remained underneath the thirteenth population centre, incidents like this oftentimes reminded the Primarch of one of his old acolytes, Hrajlmak.

Drek’ma always needed to pay more attention to those under his roof. Including those he believed capable. The Primarch took hold of the Servitor with his mind, unravelling it from between the Pillars and striking the first as it bull-rushed through the next.

The Servitor twisted its body around the lower tunnels, slithering through to bring the length of its body outside of the population centres foundations. Its tail whipped round and crushing the last foundation as the ground shook, concrete tearing apart as the entire population centre crumbled into the deep tunnels. Another few hundred million dead. The death was.. Refreshing.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post Seven
Objective B

Another ran into him, allowing his companion to attack him from behind. Tathra thrust the edge of his sword into the throat of his prey, quickly retracting the blade and turning and slashing down from head to hip of the incoming attacker, cutting the slave in half as its body tumbled to the floor. The Titan flinched as he heard footsteps behind him, but as he turned there was nothing. He saw the fresh footprints, looking around the other side of the container they disappeared behind; there was nothing. That meant he was still behind the container, no doubt they were trying to ambush him.

He hunched slightly, raising the sword. Ready to strike whoever was hiding, anxiously aware of the fragile containers all around them. Though it wasn’t the one hiding he had to worry about, only hearing the last two steps as another approached. He felt the sharp, dizzying pain as the knife dug into his side.

The worker twisted the knife, shoving it in as far as he could as Tathra growled, thrusting his elbow back and striking the dagger and the hand holding it; knocking the weapon out of his opponents hand as he turned on the heel of his left foot, grasping the worker by his head, his instinct to slam the creatures pathetic head into the nearest wall.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 5
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma

__________________________________

Hrajlmak recoiled from the bolts but ducked when the club came for his head. Bringing his head up he buried the claws of his left hand in the Weequay’s stomach. A pained grunt followed by a strong jab into Hrajlmak’s teeth pushed him back and separated them again. Hrajlmak blinked and spat dark blood. The Weequay ran forward again and feinted another swing to the head, bringing it instead towards Hrajlmak’s ribs.

The club made impact and stopped without effect. Hrajlmak quickly smacked the club out of his opponent’s hand, twirled his staff and rammed the pommel through his abdomen. The Weequay weakly gripped the staff. The pair stared into each other. So quickly, a face bearing the virtues of a desperate warrior was awash with an infinite sadness. Stood on an alien world facing the same fate as his own, defeated, and without a species.

There could be nothing but sadness. Hrajlmak pushed further and raised the Weequay into the air. Their shared gaze broke when Hrajlmak swung toward the ground, forcing the still-living humanoid to slide from his staff and crumple. Hrajlmak switched his grip and swung the staff like an axe, decapitating the Weequay.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective C
Post Five
Tags: Krarolk T'manu

A puff of ash and smoke rose up into the sky as the population centre sunk, causing a rippling effect of another half crashing into the ruins of the sunken thirteenth centre. The ash blew through their line, even going as far as to reach the Acolytes of the Ashaka.

He raised his stub, covering his mouth as dozens of soldiers ahead began to cough on the vile ash. The Primarch watched as some of the husks at the edge of the battlefield were caught up in the ash storm, their burnt flesh flaking away. No doubt some of it was in fact evaporated Human flesh.

“Disgusting.” The Shaman snarled, hopefully there would be less human ash in his mouth come Yurb. Though no doubt Yurb would be the more difficult battle, thankfully the Primarch and his Shaman Core would be far from the Ra’maks.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 6
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma

________________________

Pain, but not his own, brought his attention back to the task at hand. The connection had been disturbed and a large part of the population centres had collapsed on a Servitor suffering a lapse of cognition. The incident hadn’t been fatal, but it was dangerous. As Hrajlmak retook the reins, they were thrown from his grasp again.

Reinforcements had arrived, taking positions behind what cover they could find. Blaster fire opened up and forced Hrajlmak to take cover of his own. Both the Servitors and the militia needed attention. The strain was not yet debilitating, but Hrajlmak could feel his connection slipping. Leaping from cover, Hrajlmak bowled a fireball at a boulder serving as cover for a pair of alien troops.

As he hit the ground he lunged his hand forward, firing a lightning bolt at a human who had emerged from cover to fire. The lightning quickly fried his helmet and the head within it. Being much closer to the population centre’s than the Primarch’s line, when one of the centre’s collapsed entirely, the quake was strong enough to upset Hrajlmak’s balance. As many of the group began opening fire on him, he pounced one soldier. He dragged him to his feet and held him as a meat shield. The blaster fire stopped momentarily. Hrajlmak peered over the Twi’lek soldier’s shoulder, waiting.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective C
Post Six
Tags: Hrajlmak'Natok

But his suffering was for naught, as when the ash settled; the last of the Population centres crumbled and the duracrete earth beneath them tore apart as it became infested with flesh and rubble. Brutes and Bryn'adûl forces alike shuffled to escape the massive earthquake as the Servitors tore through the earth, tunnelling back toward their Heldrak Droships.

It was quite the grand mess, but soon enough the entirety of this wreckage would be reforged into new and superior materials for the Bryn. This was necessary, and those buried under the wreckage. These 'civilians' all died for a grander purpose. They all died, children of Khaeus.

The Primarch felt overwhelmed strangely - unsteady and uneasy. But it was not his own unease that he felt - it was, something else. Drek’ma would request a pick up from an Orkale Gunboat, and head toward the Divine Burtality.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 7
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma

___________________________

A dust storm of ash and rubble washed over their position, throwing everyone to the ground. Hrajlmak struggled to his feet. He grabbed his Twi’lek hostage by the tendrils and threw him face first into a rock. Fighting to keep balance he pushed through the wind to find a human hopelessly crawling around the ground. Hrajlmak booted him over onto his back and stomped on his neck, quickly ending his struggle. The cloud from the collapsed population centre soon dissipated and visibility improved. Some of the soldiers had managed to retrieve their weapons. Those with no headgear struggled to clear their eyes, spluttering and choking as they rubbed their faces with their arms. With both hands, Hrajlmak opened a relentless sea of fire ahead of him.

 

[Galak]

Post Seven
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu |

The Maulers tore the militiamen apart. It was a satisfyingly brutal weapon, an automatic shotgun blasting apart everything that got in their way. When fired up close, the spreaded blasts of the Maulers struck nearly every part of the upper torso with extreme force. As Galak turned the corner, he hip fired into the back of an unsuspecting soldier trying to hold an angle on one of the other squads.

When he fired, his upper torso; rib-cage up came flying off like a door kicked from its hinges. The Brute snorted in response as the second sniper turned to face Galak, firing his sniper rifle point blank at Galak’s face. The Brute activated his shield, blocking the sniper blast. He didn’t exactly feel like losing his second eye.

Galak drew back his shield, grasping the barrel of the sniper and pushing it aside as he jammed the reverse curved blade of the Mauler into the head and neck of the sniper, ripping upward and tearing his head nearly in two as the body slumped to the side.