Dominion The Bryn'adûl | The Great An'shaerneghm of Jaminere

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Five
Objective: Oversight and Observation
Location: Heart of the celebrations
Tag: Primarch Drek'ma

Meditation was something commonly associated with the Jedi, but in reality it was a practice across thousands of cultures and species or planets. Just not something he would normally indulge in, nor in such a direct manner that felt connected to the force. Nar Kreeta had changed things, for better or for worse the events on that planet had changed so much of how he saw the Universe. To hear it again after so long, it made him aware of the weight.

But it reminded him how important their duty was, for all of them there was nothing more important than the duty set before them. Those thoughts were tempered by reality, brought back by the familiar tone of a particular Shaman. Tathra’s eyes opened slowly, focusing on the trinket in his grasp as he maneuvered it away, stuffing it into the side of his cuirass once again. He had been somehow dormant, but everything was coming back now.

“Drek’ma.” His words were slow to come but alertness returned to him nearly immediately. Eyes moving around the celebrations once again as if he was relearning his situation.

“What can I do for you?” The Titan asked, turning to the Aeravalin.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Four
Tags: Tathra Khaeus
Objective: Speak

Drek’ma watched curiously as Tathra seemed to wake, almost as if he had indeed been meditating. Many would sacrifice a limb to know what went on in that head, in fact he already had. But he’d paid for his carelessness a hundred times over. That was why he saw fit to regrow it, finally.

He had earned it and he had earned honesty too.

“I was about to ask you something similar, Sire.” He leaned on the Staff casually, bracing it against his right collar as he looked across the celebrations.

After what Tathra had told him, of the attempted mutiny of the tenabraks after the crash landing, how the Jedi had attempted to warp his mind. With all that in mind, he could not help but worry as to why the Titan acted the way he did, why he carried a Jedi's bobble. He had fought harder than ever before, no doubt. But he also seemed to carry some great weight alone.

It was an unnecessary suffering.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Six
Objective: Oversight and Observation
Location: Heart of the celebrations
Tag: Primarch Drek'ma

As he sat Drek’ma responded with a retort.they thought similarly, that was why the Primarch had survived so long. It was true, he was an incredible Draelvasier and he did not have nearly the recognition he deserved. Even as the leader of the Shamans, he was more than that and they all knew it. But that didn’t change that some things were best left unsaid. Crimson fingers outstretched from each paw as they dug into the armrests, shuffling slightly as he adjusted himself to sit upright.

The pearl-grey silver plates of armour chafed against the gold interlocking plates beneath as he adjusted his posture. The metal grinding against the grain, a symphony of small echoes and sounds coming from his arms as the armour of his shoulders folded in as he sat forward, the massive breastplate weighing down on the breadth of his shoulder-blades.

Before he spoke, a Juggernaut carrying a tray of ales passed them by - stopping to offer his own to him. With a smile, Tathra grasped the mug in his right hand - taking a swig to appease the Juggernaut.

“Thank you, Warrior.” Tathra sat back once more.

“Go enjoy the celebrations like everyone else, Primarch. You’ve earned it.” And as much as he didn’t want the Primarch prodding, he meant that.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Five
Tags: Tathra Khaeus
Objective: Speak

“Thank you.” Drek’ma responded, bowing slightly.

He thought long and hard before speaking again, he knew others would seek the Titan. He had no intention of prolonging the process. But more than Titan he was Tathra, and he was a friend and the precursor. He had to speak his mind or else what use was he in a position such as this.

“They fought well. Fourteen star systems burn Sire, all because of you. This celebration is well earned.” He lingered on the end of that comment, ready to say much more. But he could tell Tathra was having none of it. He wanted to simply enjoy these parades, not to think too hard.

That confirmed Drek'ma's suspicion that he already was. Perhaps a dialogue with the Seers would reveal more. But, he could not afford to be seen in discourse. Unity mattered most today of all days.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Seven
Objective: Oversight and Observation
Location: Heart of the celebrations
Tag: Primarch Drek'ma

He listened again, but this time he had to speak up. This prattle would go on forever if he did not, and regardless of the fact Drek undoubtedly meant well - he did not have the spirit to hear it. Heavy was the head that wore the crown, and today it sat mightily. But the greater the might, the greater the weight. It was a double edged sword, winning.

Their victory had been glorious, yes. But it had left its marks.

“Enough with these pretence, Primarch.” Tathra spoke through a strained sigh, the joy turning into spiteful frustration. He was explaining as best he could, but he did not have the mental fortitude for whatever discussion would come forthwith.

“Not today, Primarch. It can wait.” Tathra drank, not waiting for a response.

The conversation was done. He had things to do, and a message to put forward at this occasion. He understood why Drek'ma was talking like this, maybe he shouldn't have told him about what happened on Nar Kreeta. But there was more to leadership than his own comfort, those around him would keep him in check. But that wasn't this - he just needed time, time to think. There were more important things that needed to be done rather than appeasing himself.

 

[Sethrak]

Post: 3
Objective: Apologize
Tags: Tathra Khaeus Primarch Drek'ma Ostak Cl'mana

It wasn't going to be easy. That was something the young Warlock quickly realized as he made his way toward The Chieftain. First there was the matter of what he would say. Would he simply say he was sorry and hope Tathra knew what he was sorry for? Perhaps it would be better to defend his actions..but then he risked angering Tathra. He could beg but he wasn't weak. He had accepted his fate and begging was not the way of the Bryn'Adûl. He wouldn't know until he was face to face with The Titan.

Secondly there was the question of where he would do it. He could apologize where Tathra stood, but it was crowded. Sethrak preferred to not make a scene both for his sake and for Tathra's sake. Yet, maybe a scene was needed. Sethrak was one of the more known heretics at the time, if he made this public, he would bear the weight of all Drael that had doubted Tathra. His apology would be their apology. Again he knew that his mind wouldn't be set until he was facing the Titan.

His heart pounded, the same adrenaline he felt in battle flowed through his body now as he grew closer still to Tathra. He could sense the Drael around him watching him as if he was foreign. It wasn't the Force. It was the sheer obviousness of the peering eyes that he felt. He was either infamous, or honored by them. Or perhaps it was simply obvious that he was about to face something he dreaded. He didn't know. It probably wouldn't matter what they thought of him soon. He could very well be dead in minutes. He didn't care about that either. If death was his destiny, so be it.

At last he had reached The Titan. Near him was Primarch Drek'ma...another set of eyes that would make this even more difficult to do.

"Chieftain. May I have a word?"

He didn't even know if Tathra would take the time to hear his words. Sethrak made one last ditch effort to come up with a way to say it, but he came short. With a small sigh he awaited Tathra's response eagerly. It was as if every soul in the fourteen conquered systems was staring at him. He locked eyes with Tathra, and decided he wouldn't look away until he had said what needed to be said.

Meanwhile The Force was silent. There was no warning, no guidance, and no false confidence. It was clear that he was alone in this struggle.

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

Objective: Celebrate & Win the Game!
Location: Jaminere Surface, Main Feasting Area
Tags: Osam | Ostak Cl'mana

Sylok shifted his gaze to the the cups, the words of Ostak taking hold of what had transpired during the wars of Ankhypt and Nar Kreeta. It seemd all of them shared quite the expereinces. It didn't mean either one was better than the other though. Each of them were part of a system that required everything they were. Everything they could feasibly do. Even Osam had taken command, in an effort to take the reigns of a leader. As odd as it may have been for him to be celebrating with a Weaver and Beast Master, Sylok welcomed him with open arms. They both had a lot in common, being a short Aeravalin came with its own judgements. When the force gifted him with such a passive ability, many looked down on him. But now, now he could do more than just heal. Not to mention, his mind was like a sharp sword. Much like that of a pen, Sylok could write out plans of attack in his mind with ease. Of course, this was rarely depended on. Many others had seen more wars then he, but it didn't mean the Aeravalin was less superior. These things would take time.

Sylok, took note of the die before Ostak mangeled them with his energy. Each cup twisting in and out to confuse them.

"If you'd like the first turn, Sylok, you may have it."

Osam was kind enough to allow him the first stab. Sylok's confidence gleaming through his words.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Risen."

Sylok was quick to answer and his eyes glanced back at Ostak. The next words mocking the enemy.

"Those Jedi, they've no respect or strenght in the way they fight. At least we have that Beast Master."


​

 

[Kelmor]

Post: 1
Objective: Get smashed
Tags: Galak | Open

Kelmor sat in amongst his brethren, drinking heavily. He had fought hard, as most of them had, but to him it didn't feel like he had accomplished anything. He was still just a grunt, no one of importance had seen his actions or taken note of him. He knew how powerful he was, but others needed to see it before it could mean anything.

Standing from his seat, he made his way over to Galak was drinking, his huge frame knocking against his brothers and sisters. If he could make an impression now, that would be a start.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Eight
Objective: Oversight and Observation
Location: Heart of the celebrations
Tag: Primarch Drek'ma | Sethrak

Tathra gestured for the Primarch to pause, their conversation didn't need to be heard by those of the lower ranks. But this Warlock was one he recognised, one he thought was wise to trust. Sethrak didn't know it yet, but the Tachael-Vemnak had already killed him - after Tatha's execution of the Shipmaster aboard the Fractured Axe it had only been a matter of time until the Warlock was gone. Sethrak was to die alone, after the celebrations were done. It had been set in motion, but only Tathra and a very select few of the Tachael knew. It was safer, better this way.

No reason to make a martyr of him.

They had judged him a Tenabrak, the poison - a synthesised version of the infectious bioweapon that had been used against them on Yurb and turned into an infestation on Ylesia had continued its research in secret under Tathra. Now, it acted as a sleeper-agent - an additional set of genetic code that could be activated if they so wished. But it could also be killed. Tathra always carried a vial on hand, just in case.

Yes. He was considering it, the Warlock had saved Tathra's life and if he could return the favour now. He would, all that was needed were the right words to be said. The Titan's eyes visibly shifted, he could quite literally see and hear the thumping of the Warlocks heart. The weight, a burden he knew too well. It had no name, it had no labels or identity. It was just the weight and it burdened them all with inglorious purpose. It was in actuality a very old belief of the ancient Draelvasier, one he had learned from the memory library on the shard of Draemidus. A library he had access to alone; The Weight was the duality of greatness. Something every great Drael or potentially great, would carry.

That gave Tathra some small investment, a miniature hope. With an almost unheard exhale, he turned to the Primarch with the left-leaning nod of his head; gesturing for him to walk on. The Chieftain needed no protection from the Warlock, he could smell the fear.

"Leave us." Aureate eyes shaped of opaque domes shifted back to Sethrak, thoughts on his mind as his massive paws came together clasped with interlacing fingers.

"Speak."

 

[Ostak Cl'mana]

POST: III
OBJECTIVE: Oversee (after all, Ostak is an Overseer)
LOCATION: Ceremony Grounds
INTERACTING WITH: Osam | Sylok'Vanari | Open to interaction

Something about the Weaver's statement unsettled him.
​

It seemed as if he had a healthy distaste for Jedi found in many veteran Draelvasier combatants, and it was certainly true that their heretical actions served only to sully the reputation of the mighty Bryn'adul empire. However, the Weaver's claim that the Jedi lacked in strength was far from true. In recent campaigns, he had seen their spiritual abilities, not too different from his own, challenge entire companies in open combat. Particularly jarring was the report of Abvor V'ngata, a Zealot Elite who was one of many Tachael-Vemnak Enforcers under Ostak's secret jurisdiction.

While Enforcers normally did not submit ordinary combat reports to their Overseers, Abvor had gone missing for three days after the conclusion of the main theatre of invasion of Nar Kreeta, and had sent a report to Ostak to explain his absence. Early in the battle on the outskirts, Abvor's Elite Squad had split up, and Abvor soon found himself isolated in a distant corner of the battlefield, hounded by superior firepower. About one and a half hours into his engagement, he had received a distress signal from the comms stone of his squadmate, Elite Krarolk T'manu. Still recovering from the shockwave caused by a massive explosion caused by the collision of a capital ship into the nearby plains, it had taken Abvor nearly ten minutes to arrive at the signal's location.

There, he had seen a female with a lightsaber fleeing into the distance and the bodies of Krarolk and nearly a dozen lesser Zealots scattered on the ground. Upon confirming that the female was retreating, Abvor examined the bodies, and found that Krarolk and two Minors Zealots were still alive, albeit in critical condition. They lay in a large yet clean crater, with every Zealot outside of its bounds a corpse. Abvor had concluded that Krarolk had used his spiritual energy to save the other two Minors while leaving those who had already perished, before falling himself.

Over the following three days, Abvor and a slowly recovering Krarolk had carried the weakened Minors along with their exhausted armaments, reunited with their Commander, and finally contacted Ostak to bring in a Gunboat to rescue them outside of the range of enemy fire. He had remembered seeing the spent bodies of Elite T'manu and Enforcer-Elite V'ngata and gained a new appreciation for just how fortunate he had been in that battle.

While reminiscing, Ostak nearly dropped the levitating cups, but regained his focus right before they toppled over and revealed their contents.

"We must not underestimate our foes, even if they are heretics whose powers are used to defy the natural order." replied Ostak. "Even the most cowardly of individuals will strike if their lives are being critically threatened."

Ostak concluded his cup rotations and gently lay the three cups out in a neat row in front of the Weaver and Major.

"The Risen has given you the right to make the first choice. Weaver, I await your guess."

 

[Keldothera]

Post: Two
Tags: Galak | Osam | Aovinr | Ostak Cl'mana
Obj: Relax

Keldothera continued to watch from afar, one drink become two and two turned to four soon enough. She wasn't hungry, but the drink was as good company as she was gonna get. The Draelvasier knew how to celebrate but it wasn't for her, not exactly her scene. But she appreciated that they'd all earned it.

Her eyes shifted to the Chieftain, speaking with the Warlock. He'd done well, both of them actually. Sethrak might've lost his feet once or twice but Tathra caught him. And he was catching him now - the Draelvasir had burned the Sith out of dozens of systems.

They had followed Tathra's lead, and their truth had been spread further than ever before. It was beautiful, but it still wasn't her gig.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Six
Tags: Tathra Khaeus | Sethrak
Objective: Mission failed will get em next time!

"Sire, I.." Primarch began, but trailed off as the Warlock known as Sethrak approached.

There wasn't much more to be said now, he had to respect Tathra's wishes - whatever they were. But it seemed the Warlock wished to speak with Tathra as well, something more personal to him of course, not the opposite. Sethrak had been one of the outspoken doubters during the time before Nar Kreeta and Ankhypt.

The Primarch would be curious what he had to say, but as quickly as the Warlock arrived the Chieftain was requesting for the Primarch to step away. Though he in his gut disagreed, he knew outward unity was more important than his personal feelings.

"As you say, Chieftain."

With a nod, Drek'ma turned and walked away.

 

[Galak]

Post: Two
Objective: Drink up me hardies yo ho
Tags: Kelmor

Galak was admittedly, getting quite giddy. He stood among his kin, listening as they discussed the battles that had came. They watched as the Aeravalin women danced about the fire, some in alluring ways that sought a mate whilst others told stories; Baedurin kin joining in. Galak would've danced too, if he had no felt so influenced by the alcohol. He chuckled to himself, placing a hand on the shoulder of one of his fellow Juggernauts. A Drone Commander stood opposite them, regaling them of the terrors of commanding the fodder.

"Yes, I'm sure it was quite difficult." Galak replied, mid-burp.

"Sometimes its like hounds, they get scared by the thunder." The Commander chided, smiling through pincer like teeth as the others laughed in unison.

"Those Risen though, they have my respect. Not the mutts though." Major Farkad spoke, honest but maybe a tad ignorant. Not that Galak would say anything.

The Drone Commanders eyes shifted past Galak, he may have been drunk but his instincts were still quite good. He turned, clambering between his more sober brethren as he spied the approach of Kelmor. They'd fought together at Nar Kreeta.

"Ah, Juggernaut Kelmor approaches!" Galak called out, cheerfully.

"This one fought well, brothers. He killed as many jedi as one could count at Kreeta!"

 

[Osam]

Post 4
Objective: Play Game
Tags: Sylok'Vanari | Ostak Cl'mana

It had been something of a gamble to allow Sylok to take the first turn because the confidence that poured off of him seemed to indicate some form of strategic advantage had been given to him. Perhaps it was best to go first in a game such as this one, though he couldn't imagine how... perhaps it was easier to remember fewer cups, and so going first meant that one would only need to remember the contents of one cup by the end of the round? Were the cups taken away as the dice were called, and then later reshuffled, or was it simply a matter of observing the three spinning cups until one lost track of which one contained this number or that one?

Even as he considered such tactical decisions, his mind began to wander to the two figures playing alongside him. Sylok was a talented Weaver, and a healer of great capability if the continued use of the Major's leg was any indication. Nevertheless, Osam recognized that he was physically somewhat shorter than many of his peers, and he couldn't help but wonder whether that would bring forward some measure of rebuke from some of their more unforgiving kindred. Was it possible that all of their kin faced such harsh criticism? Was that the nature of their lives that there would always be someone picking at their weaknesses, prying at their imperfections, and reminding them that they were worms?

The Weaver spoke of the Jedi, and of the way that they fought, claiming that they did so without any sense of respect or even a semblance of strength. Part of him wanted to agree with the sentiment of his brethren solely to support them, but another portion of him acknowledged what it was actually like to fight the mighty Force users when one had not been gifted with the strength of the Baedurin or the articulative use of the Force of the Seers. Every time he'd faced even a mere learner he'd felt the threat oozing off them in droves.

His mind flashed back to the way that one had cut down his kindred when they'd drawn close with one of their wicked plasma blades, how they'd drawn cold winds forward from the ether, how they'd seized hold of his men with little more than a coherent thought, and then bashed their bodies into paste with a flick of their wrists. It was like fighting a foe whose only capacity for terrible violence was their vivid imagination. If the Jedi could think of it, then they could commit it to practice.

"Fighting the Jedi has been a different experience for all of us, I suspect." He spoke, not bothering to follow up his statement with any information on his own gruesome run-ins with the warriors of Light.

The game began to play on in earnest after Sylok had made their first successful choice, Osam following behind them with his own choice until the game had progressed several turns. Remembering all of the numbers was beginning to take a hefty toll on the hybrid as he recalled previous successful rounds and the numbers therein, gradually growing unable to discern what was in the present and what had already begun to pass. Had he observed a 3 this turn, or had that been the turn before? Could it be both?

It was Sylok's turn now, but by all accounts, the game would shortly be over. The Major had lost track of the dice, only able to survive the previous round by mere happenstance, and it showed now in his demeanor and the slinking of his shoulders. He wanted so desperately to achieve victory, but it was out of his reach now, he could not draw knowledge out of empty atmosphere. If Sylok succeeded in his turn, then Osam would lose the game... but there was still hope. A chance.

 

[Keldothera]

Post: Three
Tags: Galak | Osam | Kelmor | Sylok'Vanari | Ostak Cl'mana
Obj: Relax

"General, may we join you?" A voice came from her side.

The General was surprised by their approach, but she recognised them. A total of four fine young Juggernauts who had fought on Ankhypt and later on Chiron and Mon Cal. They seemed to want to drink with her, she didn't hate the idea.

"Only if you intend to drink a sit quietly." That was her compromise, but somehow in her gut she knew she wasn't going to get her way.

"Of course, General. We would not disturb you." Chardel spoke, the Minor of them and the most polite. He was the best marksmen of their unit.

"Your current mug seems near empty! A drink to replenish you General." Keldoa, a Zealot set a full mug down in front of her.

She responded with a nod and a smile as the others began to sit down. It was nice to know that those who fought under her saw her as more than just a General to be fear, as more than a superior officer. She was baeudurin too.

"Thank you, Keldoa. The rest of you, sit down already." Kelda nodded to the table, pushing aside her empty mug and taking up the newly given one.

"Yes General."

 

[Seer Kalanthir]

Post: One
Tags: N/A
Objective: Prophesise

Today was a great day for the Bryn'adûl. Months ago, the Seers had saw the death of the Draelvasier. They saw their civilisation on the brink, they saw collapse and ruin. But, they had been proven wrong. The Titan had taken destiny by the reigns.

Now, they had experienced a greater victory than they had ever known before. The Draelvasier had crushed their foes on a galactic scale, sending shockwaves throughout the Galaxy on a scale hither to undreamt of. It had sent equal shockwaves through the force, it had shown them something new.

The Seers were watching as Tathra faced the Jedi that opened his mind. The Jedi had thought to warp and violate the truth, but the Titan had saw the truth.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Six
Tags: N/A
Objective: Mission failed will get em next time!

The Primarch drifted off into the side-lines. He now felt like what he imagined Galak had felt like on Chiron. He made his way out of site, teleporting as he turned a corner to a higher balcony of the current in construction Super-Construct.

Drek'ma set down his Staff with a tired groan of release as he slowly made his way to the balcony. Perspective, this was perspective. Perspective was a good thing, knowledge could be useful. What was that that he felt inside was it pride or spite?

Or spite because he had felt his pride was attacked. That was something he'd need to deal with, he had perhaps grown too use to having his way with things. But, just like it had done before now the Bryn'adûl would continue to evolve.

 

[Keldothera]

Post: Four
Tags: Galak | Osam | Sylok'Vanari |
Obj: Relax


Only a small time had passed but the Juggernauts sitting with her had kept their word, albeit with the exception of some light conversation. But now the group of Juggernauts were talking with giddy anticipation, eyes shifting her way. Eyes rolled in their sockets, typically Baedurin behaviour. They were usually reasonable in social scenarios until they started thinking.

"Why are the four of you acting like new-births?" She asked, setting down her mug.

"Well, Torron thinks he can arm wrestle ya."

"A game of insults?" Kelda asked, she did not expect that they actually wished to test their strength. Draelvasier, especially Baedurin were proud but they usually followed the typical channels for that sort of thing. Games were usually about intellect.

"No, just strength for strength General." Torron said, pulling his seat forward as the other parted.

Keldothera's eyes looked him over, her frame lay slack over the seat as she examined him. A Heavy, strong and powerful. He'd be hard to beat.

"Alright then." Kelda sat forward, sure she was a little drunk but she didn't mind playing for fun. They had approached her, it'd be rude to decline them now.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Seven
Tags: N/A
Objective: Mission failed will get em next time!

It was a truth, every Draelvasier had to accept. Evolution charted the path forward, take for example what had happened at Yurb and how they had fought, Tathra and himself inside the Siege Tower whilst the others fought below.

They had learned since then, adapted and faced their weaknesses head on so that they may overcome them. If one did not understand that that was a necessity to survival, they'd lose their minds in this cultic miasma. Their survival was righteous, their way was that of truth and it ensured the leadership of those who deserved it - would do best with it.

Evolution and progression were the calm before the storm of strength. Their future was uncertain, but victory was good nonetheless. The wind was calm, fair and warm. Night truly began to dawn on the world, Jaminere's previous inhabitants were all dead.

 

[Seer Kalanthir]

Post: Two
Tags: N/A
Objective: Prophesise

And through him the Seers also saw and now they understood the true destiny of the Draelvasier. They were a manifestation of the forces earnest will, its obsession with strength and unity was clear. The force had manifested Tathra.

He had been sent to this Galaxy as its prophet, a harbinger of strength that reignited the flame. This was known, and so would this gospel be recorded and thusly spread throughout the Draelvaiser. They made fate, chose their own.

That was the nature of strength and it was as the force deemed it necessary. He was the true saviour and as his children the Draelvasier were destined to take the Galaxy and lead it into a new era of prosperity and strength. This was the way, the only true way forward.