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

[Primal Architect]

The Bryn'adûl | Slaughter Before the Storm

Sleheyron is home to Ten Billion. Ten billion on the edge of Silver Jedi space, a massive industrial world comparable to Nar Shaddaa. We must secure this system before moving on to the Yurbian System. We will strike with brutal efficiency and destroy this world before they can run to the Jedi.

This industrial world chokes its own kind with its sickly air, the streets are slick with homeless humans and trash. A disgusting technological heap that is slowly killing its own planet. We will take Sleheyron from the Hutts. We have crippled their criminal empire, and now the Hutts of the Marra Corridor have nowhere to run.

Destroy them. Then, we continue to Yurb.

OBJECTIVE A - Take the Palace

The Vosadii Techno-Palace is the current headquarters of the leadership of the militia of Sleheyron; Vasque the Hutt. Vosadii is well guarded, but the removal of the head of this resistance will make the taking of Sleheyron all the much easier. Secure Vosadii, and kill Vasque and his guards.T

OBJECTIVE B - Secure the fuel

The fuel of Sleheyron will be a valuable resource for the conquest, secure their Tibanna Gas factories and transfer the valuable fuel sources to our equipment. Kill any who stand in your way.

OBJECTIVE C - Sink the Population Centres

As we speak, our Shaman kin work to sink the population centres that hold nine of the ten billion residents of this planet. We have established an orbital blockade and amassed a massive force to encircle these population centres, and trap the population within. We have held this blockade for hours. Within the hour, these centres will finally be swallowed by the void, sunk and buried to be melted down and repurposed.


- Kyrim Tenebris | Krarolk T'manu | Osam | Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Tathra Khaeus | Hrajlmak'Natok |

 

[Osam]

Post 1
Objective B

Osam and several other squads of Sraelvun had been dispatched to secure one of the fuel stations near a remote corner of Sleheyron. They had arrived without much fuss to the fuel station, finding its defenses to be relatively mediocre. Apparently, the facility had relied quite heavily on its remote position to protect it in the past from potential interlopers, but there was little doubt that they had not prepared nearly enough for an incursion on the scale which had not presented itself before them.

The bands of ravenous drones managed to surround the facility in a few moments, cutting through the fences surrounding it without any regard for the five or so watchmen they discovered outside. These were torn apart rapidly by the Sraelvun and devoured almost where they stood.

Of course, if they had looked solely at the exterior defenses that the facility possessed, they might’ve believed that they had managed to utterly subdue the entire Tibanna Gas refinery in a fell swoop.

 

[Galak]

Post One
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu

This Palace was uglier than the other ones. From planet to planet, he’d seen plenty of Palaces in his time. But it seemed the hutts had the ugliest architecture of them all. Galak would be happy to see a Ra’mak just crash on the Palace. But unfortunately, the Vosadii had a small and very difficult to push through shield. It made him wish they had the Distortor ready, but it was being reserved for the battle at Yurb. That was the important battle, not this one.

So they had to do this old fashioned, gritty and dirty but efficient. Galak looked beyond the shield, their soldiers were waiting. All they could do was stare back at the Brutes and the Drones standing beyond their reach, just on the other side of the shield. But they weren’t alone, slowly, Ashaka Sorcerers worked the minds of those watching the carnage, fear and incompetence trickled into their minds.

Some would be broken even before the initial engagement began. All the Emissary and his forces had to do was break their line and push them up to the second level of the Palace’s outer courtyard. From there, they’d bring in the heavier units.

“Are we ready to go?” Galak asked.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: One
Objective: B

Many might have thought that killing the Hutt was where he should be, but Tathra disagreed with the others, Sleheyron was known for its fuel and Tathra very much so aware of their need for resources. Every world they took, they did their best not to entirely strip them of resources. But, sometimes a lesser evil was necessary to achieve good. Tathra saw the treatment of worlds much the same as he saw Humans and their ilk. It was for a greater world, a stronger Galaxy. It was to strengthen them, as warriors. It was necessary.

The thought was a comfort, stuck in the dank, depressing armpit that these Hutts called factories. Tathra took no pleasure in killing slaves, but those who could not free themselves would be freed by death. They were like mindless creatures, clawing and biting. Ravenous, fierce but no purpose beyond opportunity had given them a chance. He had no real sympathy for those who did not give themselves one.

The massive warrior cut open the back of another, blood spraying in the dim white lights; the feeble body falling as he crushed another’s knee with a kick before thrusting their head into the wall, a splatter of blood soaking him. Tathra spat out the little that got in his mouth; disgusted by the taste of such weak blood.

 

[Galak]

Post Two
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu

The Ashaka acolyte gave the Emissary a nod, returning to the back of their lines as it silently slinked through the crowd. Galak turned to his Majors, giving them a nod. They in turn motioned with hand gestures to the individual brute squads. They were ready.

Without a word, Galak was the first to step forward; his RAW in hand. Whilst some others might’ve thought to use the Drones as meat shields, he’d rather converse their numbers until they reached Yurb. There was no need for senseless demise to make it harder.
Galak opened fire, dropping two of the militia men immediately as the Drones quickly joined him.

They moved to cover as a few were killed by the inferior plasma-weaponry. The blasts were near harmless against Galak’s armour, and the same could be said for the rest of the Brutes entering the field of combat.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

Location: Sleheyron, ~1km from Techno-Palace
Objective: A
Post: 1
Equipment: In Signature + Wendigo Spiker
Tags: Galak

Today would be a day unlike any that the Zealot had ever experienced prior. ​

This planet was the most densely populated out of any world that Krarolk had ever seen, and the sluggishness of those reliant on technology was nearly insurmountable. He had come with the other two members of the Zealot Elite trio, all packed into one Striker Shard as they descended further into the urban wastes of the planet. Their pilot guided the Shard as close to the Techno-Palace as he could manage, with anti-aircraft fire forcing the shuttle to perform a variety of evasive maneuvers through the steel expanses of the city. Finally, the pilot settled for a large open plaza area about a kilometer away from the Palace.

The shuttle smashed down into the plaza, the Zealots inside gripping into the walls tightly as the ship around them shook and shuttered. After about fifteen seconds, the shuttle completed its crash-landing. Leaving their pilot behind, the three Zealots departed the shuttle, each fully armed and armored. The trio bolted towards the battlefield ahead, the silent serenity of the plaza around them soon to be broken.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Two
Objective: B

Weakness.

It was a cancer, a cancer propagated by negligence of powers capable of change. That was all Tathra saw here, as he littered the hallway of this factory with the bodies of slave and slave master alike. They were all the same, children lost in a storm. The whole time, Tathra could only think of the Silver Jedi in their ivory towers. He blamed them, he would never leave his kind to this indignity and torment. Life was struggle, but purpose was the virtue, the saviour. What purpose did your life have if your strength is so negligible?

Tathra stopped as he came to the door of the hallway, ready to move onto the next. He could hear them, scratching at the locked door, unaware of what lay beyond the door. He almost smirked, a microcosm of the problem with this Galaxy. Nobody cared what door they went through as long as they moved forward. With one hand, Tathra tore open the left side of the door - the workers behind had been hidden in this dark lightless hallway for some time.

But now, they looked up in fear as the blinking light silhouetted two glowing yellow eyes built on a crimson form stared down at them. Tathra smiled, thrusting his Long-Axe’s ruby blade into the face of the closest, setting his clothing on fire as the red vapour swirled around him. The body fell, lighting up the dark hall as the corpse burned. Two froze where they stood, the others turned and began to run.

 

[Galak]

Post Three
Objective A
Tags: Krarolk T'manu

The Emissary led the charge, leaping over the central fountain as its marble frame exploded from the impact of a concussion grenade. The sound they made rung his ears, but it seemed the militiamen were lobing sonic grenades at the Drones. It seemed to be confusing them, hurting them. Galak dropped to one knee, tightening his control of the RAW’s recoil as he dropped two grenade-throwers as soon as they pushed from cover.

The Brutes of the 10th Regiment used their superior well - everything, to push back the militia up the first staircase. So many died so quickly, Drones and Militia soldiers littering the floor. Galak stepped over one as he moved to push up the staircase, only catching a hidden soldier in the corner of his eye. He recognised the weapon held, a disruptor. When it fired, it cracked a small plate of his chest armour, but not much more.

Before he could even react, one of the more eager Brute Minors shoved the bayonet of his Spiker into the back of the soldiers skull, dragging him over the staircase railing and stomping on his spine where he fell.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Three
Objective: B

With wide, brutal one-handed swings; Tathra drove at the two slavers who had stood still. If there was any killing he took true pleasure in, it was the slaughter of cretins like these. They were of no benefit to him, but to rid this Galaxy of their wretched existence was a true reward in itself. When he struck the first, his upper half launched backward and away from his body, slamming into the wall with a large splurge of blood.

The second, he lunged toward. She had seen what he’d done to someone she likely knew, worked with. had already begun to run. But it was too late, Tathra’s Axe extended his reach more than she could ever outpace him. She did get a headstart though. The Axe took her right leg and half of her leg, leaving her screaming in pain on the floor. He had no empathy, and put an end to the dramatics with his boot, crushing the upper torso of the slaver into the metal.

Tathra looked to the other end of the hallway, they had all stopped. They could not escape, but not for a lack of trying. The door wouldn’t budge and they looked on in horror as what must have been to them a Monster, crushed their co-worker into nothing.

“An undignified death, for an undignified life.”

Tathra explained, taking the Long-Axe into both hands as the ruby crystalline beard glowed; swinging short of his victims as it released a powerful vorpal strike that cut through the walls all the way to them. The door was destroyed, torn from its hinges and their bodies toppled headless and limbless to the ground.

 

[Osam]

Post Two
Objective B

Breaking through the facility’s large metallic door had proven to be somewhat more difficult than originally intended. There had been only a single cargo door to provide access to the entire refinery, large enough for a dropship to come into the hangar of the structure, retrieve the shipment of gas, and promptly deliver it to whichever warmonger or profiteer needed it for their work.

Under normal circumstances, the Bryn’adul warriors would’ve simply knocked the door down using some manner of explosive ordinance, but the nature of the refinery meant that that was a dangerous task. Instead, they had been forced to rely on alternative methods of entry, including pressing against the door en masse in a futile attempt at pushing it clear to the ground. After a dozen minutes of this press and sway, the cargo door stood tall, and almost mockingly, the klaxon from inside of the facility went silent as though the emergency had all but passed.

Unable to utilize the explosives that many of the other squads were carrying around with them, and entirely unable to enter through any alternative methods including an access doorway upon the roof or any windows, the Risen-Sraelvun took a step back and analyzed the situation, attempting to discern what resources were available to them.

In his vigil, one of his own claws passed by his face, and sudden insight into how he might secure the facility burrowed its way through his brain.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 1
Tags: Tathra Khaeus / Primarch Drek'ma / Osam / Galak / Krarolk T'manu

________________________________________________________________________________________

Opposite the Primarch’s position on the other side of the vast population centres, Hrajlmak stepped from a dropship and onto Sleheyron’s natural volcanic landscape. His boots layered with particularly thick layers of Er’gerak to protect against the heat of the black rock and ash. The atmosphere, thick with smog and heat, choked and pressed on him. His return to the front was marked by a planet he would have preferred never to have walked on. Alas, one must endure the few hardships of war if they are to enjoy its many virtues.
The dropship pulled up and disappeared into the uninspired clouds, leaving the Warlock to his duties. Before him lay the vast majority of Sleheyron’s population. All gathered in great population centres. Like looking down at a plate of tunnelhound flesh, just waiting to be licked clean, Hrajlmak mused to himself.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective C
Post One
Tags: Hrajlmak'Natok

The great serpents descended from the sky once more, the Servitors tore into the population centres millions died by the second. It was a glorious feeling, the strength of the Shamans grew as their talents were practiced. The Primarch knew many of them from student to beast master. Their lives a blink.

Brute and Shamans together, their strength together was the cornerstone of the Bryn’adul strength. Beast and Bastard, the strength of metal and beast, iron and muscle. Drek’ma stalked along the edge of the Shamans outer line, his Staff echoing across the ground.

No words were needed, the telepathic link was strong. The bond of their covenant was unbreakable. The covenant of Baedurin, Aeravalin and Sraelvun would be tested today.

 

[Osam]

Post Three
Objective B

Dirt and muck began to clump together underneath the claws of the Risen-Sraelvun, forcing him to pause and shake the earthy gore from the appendages. He glanced briefly at his Srael companions, acknowledging the way that they strike at the very ground itself as if though it were an enemy to be slain and not simply an inanimate bundle of silicate and stone.

Given the nature of the doorway, it had become quickly apparent to Osam that he would have no ability whatsoever to breach it without calling for a Rhivak, and given that there were other objectives that likely necessitated the use of such a beast, no doubt he would be forced to awkwardly wait for its arrival. Requiring assistance like that for a task that had been given to himself and his compatriots would be akin to failing at the objective and relying upon the strength of others to see him through. He had not become Risen just to fall short when things grew inconvenient.

And so he had set about like a sapper, digging tunnels underneath the cargo door with the assistance of a small army of Sraelvun, utilizing their climbing claws to shift the dirt aside with relative ease. The hole had taken some time to form, but once the work had begun in earnest, it had gone about quickly. Stilts had been setup through the tunnel, keeping it upright so that it would not prematurely collapse upon them.

With another slash of a claw, one of the Sraelvun struck their target, the shining chrome of the structure now revealed.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Four
Objective: B

The ground quaked as Tathra made his way out of the hallway, stepping over the bodies and hunching as he exited the hallway. From the otherside, militia soldiers were backing up in his direction; Tathra prepared to attack but before he had even made it through the exit the militia soldiers were swiftly cut down by spiker rounds. Tathra recognised Captain Pavium as he approached with his Squad.

“Captain Pavium.” Tathra acknowledged him, placing the Axe on his back as he was suddenly surrounded by the Brutes of the 10th.

“Sire, we’ve taken the left aft bay. The milita have been pushed back from half of the facility. Should we bring in the Gun Boats to secure the fuel?” Pavium asked, clearly he was proud of his efficiency. This was his first command. But there was no need to be hastey.

“No, we secure all of the fuel stations before we bring in our modified boats. Give me a direct link to Emissary Galak.” Tathra wanted an appraisal of the situation at the Palace.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective C
Post Two
Tags: Hrajlmak'Natok

The Shaman held his Staff high in his one hand, now feeling the loss of the other vividly as his right arm sat aloft. Then, he struck the Staff forward like a spear into the air. The current rippled through to the minds of those under his command. The wave of thought.

The Servitors tore through the population centres, their massive hide covered bodies eating through the foundations of every building. The foundations of these creatures, their histories and their mark upon these worlds would be purged from the face of every Planet they would find.

This was a righteous purge. As millions died, their power grew. They, the Shamans, were the masters of the beasts and the right arm of the Bryn'adûl.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

Objective: A
Subtask: Assassinate Vasque The Hutt
Post: 2
Equipment: In Signature + Wendigo Spiker
Tags: Galak

The three Zealot Elites had been deployed for a precise mission - use the Brutes on the front lines to distract the palace’s defenders, infiltrate the palace, and eliminate Vasque the Hutt. ​

Once the Hutt and his bodyguards had been slain, the trio would rise to the castle walls and display the Hutt’s head to the combatants outside, boosting the morale of the Byrn while weakening the resolve of the defenders. While Krarolk had been trained to play the role of assassin as an Elite of the Zealots, it would be the first time he had actually performed one. While the Zealot preferred the glory of the frontlines, he admitted to himself that the elimination of a single important target was as essential as the defeat of an entire army.

The three Zealots exited the plaza and continued forwards, running left of the main Byrn force attacking the castle. With most of its defenders running over to meet the larger force, the left wall would be more vulnerable to infiltration. Furthermore, the defenders might not even call for initial reinforcements due to there only being three Zealots. However, the moment the defending garrison underestimated the Elites, they’d be torn to shreds. The three Zealot Elites had turned entire platoons into shreds of meat and broken metal by themselves, and their teamwork abilities were nearly unparalleled within the Byrn’adul ranks. Each Elite in the trio made up for the other’s weaknesses with their strengths, and so the unit as a whole became unbreakable.

This was demonstrated moments later, as a pair of militiamen on speeder bikes about thirty meters away passed by them. As the two turned around to face the Zealots and report them to the garrison, Krarolk’s commander and the leader of the Elite trio pulled out his Wendigo Spiker rifle. Roughly 0.93 seconds later, both speeder bikes had exploded, taking their riders with them. The Elite Commander had fired his rifle twice at two moving targets, hitting their engines both times.

Though all three members of the Zealot Elite trio could be considered capable marksmen, it was their commander who truly excelled in long-range combat.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective C
Post Three
Tags: Hrajlmak'Natok

His attention shifted to their blockade once more, their forces were holding back the desperate escape of the people. The Ashaka Acolytes worked hard to maintain the lethality of the Bryn'adûl warriors. A slow, arduous but necessary process.

Their heroism was nearly overshadowed by the stench of their victims' fear. Those running from sinking cities into an endless sea of Bryn'adûl. Overhead, the Ra'maks blasted long lengths of the open fields; obliterating all in their path.

All that was left behind were dried out burnt husks among burning fields. The Primarch felt their fear, understood it. But he also understood that they would all become children of Khaeus.

 

[Osam]

Post Four
Objective B

Tearing through the dirt had been a hardy process, and one that had required substantial manpower and time to accomplish, but it had finally come to fruition. Now as the last of the Drones were pulled free from the grime of the tunnel, and the stakes were tied to one another like a mock fence, he prepared to condemn the cargo door to its sinking fate. He didn’t rush things as some of his lesser kindred might have done, waiting until he was absolutely certain that none of his brethren were within the tunnel before he passed the line to his company.

Working in unison as they had done for countless years, the Sraelvun tugged all at once on the fiber, and with it, the stakes underneath the wall. Suddenly, without any support, the cargo door began to sink into the tunnel system, falling from its foundation as it began to tilt awkwardly at the sudden drop. Another twenty seconds or so was enough to drop the door completely into the trench, sending it sprawling out before the band of Sraelvun.

There was a victorious shriek among the hordes of Sraelvun and their Risen leaders, and the battalion flooded into the facility. A few of the workers had done their best to prepare themselves for trouble when the door had begun to tilt, but they were armed only with mechanical tools and suits more suited for dealing with sudden gas leaks or potential heat than for the rending blades, claws, and teeth of the drones.

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

Objective: A
Subtask: Assassinate Vasque The Hutt
Post: 3
Equipment: In Signature + Wendigo Spiker
Tags: Galak

“Outer castle wall, one hundred meters away, twelve o’clock!” stated the Zealot Commander.​

Noting its position and proximity, the Zealot Elite trio began to initiate the second phase of their plan. There was an urban sprawl between them and up to ten meters away from the wall, which gave the Zealots plenty of cover. Krarolk and his Commander secured themselves in separate hidden positions facing the wall of the city, crouching down as a sniper would. The two of them pulled out their Wendigo Spikers and stared down their scopes, examining the defending garrison.

The castle wall, while tall and wide, seemed to provide no unique challenges. It was made out of a material that seemed similar to concrete, with ramparts on top of the wall on which multiple militiamen and women traversed. The weakest point in the wall was quickly determined to be a steel gate, which seemed light and thin enough to be broken apart by the weaponry the three Zealots had on them. However, they had also been told that the castle was protected by a deflector shield. Consequently, the trio would have to bypass the shield before they could access the interior. Fortunately, their plan had taken the shield into account.

The third and bulkiest member of the Zealot Elite squad rushed over to the castle wall, Byrn Shot in hand. He fired two grenades at the wall in quick succession before bolting back into the surrounding urban area. While the grenades were absorbed by the shield and did close to no damage, they did provoke a response from the defenders. The outer gate opened up, and six soldiers rushed out. Right as the shield momentarily lowered to allow the soldiers to exit, all three Zealots rushed out from the urban sprawl and into the open.

Their trap had succeeded: the Zealots could now smash through the small defensive force and infiltrate the castle.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: C
Post: 2
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma

__________________________________________

Having already been deployed, the two Servitors under Hrajlmak’s command lay dormant under the foundations of the massive population centres. He took a deep breath to calm the mind, rammed his staff into the ground and began to ease into the triple-conscience. Slowly, the two massive minds became one, and that one became a hemisphere of Hrajlmak’s mind. Perfect resonance was a demanding task. Hrajlmak was content to be away from the fighting for the first time in years. The concentration was needed. Deep underground, the city-sinkers oscillated and began to shift, displacing thousands of tons of material a second. Soon enough they were flowing through the ground like watersnakes.

Tremors rippled across the surface. Tremors that would become quakes. Quakes that would splinter the ground, ripping it apart. As the Servitors moved closer and closer to the surface, the greater the surface suffered. They annihilated the foundations of the cities, creating massive sinkholes that decimated the population. Hrajlmak raised his arms like a sinister conductor and the ground tore open. The worms arched into the air, snuffing thousands of lives in the simple maneuver. Their heads tilted downwards and they buried themselves again, returning to their domain under Sleheyron. Hrajlmak was under strain, mentally and physically. But nothing would deter him from his duty.