The meeting of a warrior and another warrior

[Crona'Tas]

[SIZE=11pt]Crona had never met a Shaman like him. In many ways he was like Crona, a fighter whom’s loyalty relied heavily on the Bryn’adul’s religious connection. Amazingly Crona’Tas had never had the pleasure of meeting this one, someone who wasn't really a kin to most Shamans. Interestingly, this was a required meeting, something that Crona found odd by itself but still, he’d never imagine that tathra would request such a thing. Usually Shamans kept to themselves, never trying to make friendships or bonds. There was a certain arrogance to it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Crona began pacing in the large room that was granted to him aboard the Daeghmundr. He thought of what this Shaman would be like, if he really was the warrior he’d heard about from the transmissions. If he was then this would be easier than Crona first suspected.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Changing the Shamans. It sounded like a hard job but Crona would manage, over the years he’d gained much respect among the Shamans for his strength, valor, and wisdom of the Force. All things he used to crush the heretical Sith and Jedi, names he would come to learn till this war truly began to rage on.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He picked up the long sword that he’d come to know and love for the countless victories that it had given him and shifted it to where it was being held blade down. He then started to bang the tip of the sword on the floor, over and over again, till it became repetitive. All the while his eyes fixed on the sliding door, waiting.[/SIZE]

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Glory, success, destruction. All things that amplified and propelled the echoes of a name throughout the warrior society of the Bryn'adul. Many names had such a weight. Some more than others. But only very few truly resonated in Hrajlmak's mind. Over the recent years, that small list of those Hrajlmak truly respected and considered had gradually welcomed a new individual. Yet, one Hrajlmak had never had the pleasure of even meeting.

Crona'Tas. A Shaman, but one much more familiar to Hrajlmak than the others. One who slaughtered not from afar, but on-site. One who did not cower behind his appointed Zealots, but one who embraced the battle and fought with his own flesh. One who lived for battle, not for service. These were qualities that Hrajlmak had, until recently, felt were only his. A notion that angered him more and more for every passing day and every successful raid. To see his fellow commanders stand idly with their only input being theirs through the flesh of the Swarm. Cowards. Nothing more than glorified fools hardly worthy of the battle they co-ordinated. It was woven into the fabric of the Bryn'adul that those who battled held value. Hrajlmak often swore to himself that he would drag a Shaman by the neck all the way to the frontlines just to see how long they would last. But, of course, their value to the War-machine was simply too great to endanger them as such.

But this could be changed, as all things should be.

The violent Shaman's armoured robes jangled as he walked, trailing behind his monstrous heels as he approached the meeting they had organised. The halls soon filled with the echo of metal on metal, repetitively. Hrajlmak did not question it, he simply followed the noise until his serrated figure slid open the door, and his deep red eyes beheld the Ivory Shaman.

Hrajlmak nodded slowly in greeting,

"And here I thought I was alone"

Hrajlmak's gutteral voice drifted from his throat and resonated with monstrous depth.

[member="Crona'Tas"]

 

[Crona'Tas]

And there he was, the fighter he’d heard so much about these past couple days. This was going to be fun, thought Crona as he began to walk toward the robed figure, this truly was going to be an interesting encounter for Crona and the one that stood before him. Crona started to slide his long sword back into the sheath on his back as he walked,his cold and malaced with time and regret, regret that no one in the Bryn’adul would know he carried.

“Hehe, yes… It would appear that WE are not alone after all.” Crona said in a deep, raspy voice as a draeyde landed on his left shoulder, scrap of meat in its mouth, “It’s been too long since I've seen another warrior such as I.” Crona was now in front of him now, claws behind his back, staring at him with curious intent of an old man. It was a stare meant to unsettle it’s victim and cause disruption in thought, a simple test to see how strong this one was.

“Tell me, brother… What is your name?” Crona said with authority, waiting for an answer.


[member="Hrajlmak'Natok"]

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Hrajlmak was motionless as the Shaman approached. Slowly, he folded his arms before him. Crona came to a halt and peered deep into Hrajlmak. His folded arms tightened slightly as discomfort gripped his flesh, yet he remained composed.

"Hrajlmak'Natok. Though I know of you, Crona'Tas. A warrior. A shaman of Battle, not cowardice. It's for this I feel we share more than mere roles in our great conquest. We both live for the battlefield. For the slaughter."

Hrajlmak felt his voice wavering, his Drael coming out distorted before correcting itself. Whatever game Crona was playing, it certainly made for an interesting introduction. Having finally met him, Hrajlmak's arrogance subsided and he felt admiration for the Shaman before him. There were, to his knowledge, none like the pair now talking. There were none that revelled on the frontline as any other Baedurin. They all cowered. Shielded by their Zealots. Too precious to endure harm. Too special.

[member="Crona'Tas"]

 

[AvRe]

wrong character

 

[Crona'Tas]

[SIZE=12pt]It worked, Hrajlmak was indeed unsettled, but he stood strong with the composer of warrior. “HAHA!” Crona let out a deep bellowing, but joyus laugh, “YES!” Crona said, with the happiness of a father that just found out that his son won a fight at school, and a look of pure ecstasy on his old face. Crona then proceeded to put both of his hands on each of Hrajlmak’s shoulders with a firm but friendly grasp.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“You, my friend, are a good one.” Crona said as he patted Hrajlmak’s shoulder, “Me and you are gonna turn these rats into dogs, but first, we must come up with a way.” Crona lowered one of his hands from Hrajlmak’s left shoulder and turned to the open room, he began to walk, pulling Hrajlmak with him, “Personally, I think we should begin putting these [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Commanders[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt] through training that will threaten their lives, but then again, I don’t think tathra will approve. I may be loyal to him, but he can be a real pain sometimes.” Crona then lowered his other hand, they wheir now at the center of the expansive room, “I’ve been wanting to turn those pathetic creatures into fighters for so long, but now, with the approval of Tathra, and someone that shares my views, I can finally accomplish something, tell me, what do you think we should do, Hrajlmak’Natok?” Crona said.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Now the meeting will begin, thought Crona.[/SIZE]

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

The old Shaman's bellowing voice came as a surprise to Hrajlmak. Being used to avoiding other Shaman's, the energy from the one he now spoke with was almost alien to him. Large, white paws fell onto Hrajlmak's shoulders, to which a spike of adrenaline responded. The Shaman he now spoke with was one beyond any preconception. If this were any other Drael, Hrajlmak briefly considered just how badly he would have killed him. But this was not any other Drael. This was a prospect. An ally. And so he had to grin and bare the intrusion. Even offering no resistance as the old one coaxed him into a greater room.

"But he can be a real pain sometimes"

Hrajlmak's angular head quickly turned to toward the weathered head beside him, but remained silent. This Shaman simply continued to surprise him. They came to a halt and Hrajlmak was presented with a most interesting question. He stepped away from Crona and wondered around, deep in thought,

"We share an idea. And it is a large one.." His growling voice trailed as he walked.

"The Kad'maera" Hrajlmak turned to face Crona as he began his monologue, "Brings both Baedurin and Aeravlin into the world on equal footing. Both bread as warriors. Cogs in the machine that drives the great conquest. And yet, we Aeravalin are pulled from this to serve our role behind the lines. This is not to say that we are not important. Without us, our conquest would never have left home. We are crucial to the drive..."

Hrajlmak stopped and thought, his muscular brow contorting.

"But we do not serve the idea that is taught to us. From a hidden corner, we direct our forces to crush the pitiful opposition, while our own flesh remains un-bloodied and without scratch. I believe our Caste needs a reform in the way it thinks. The way it behaves. We Shaman's should be able to stand fearless in the midst of the battlefield while still commanding the actions of our army with utmost precision. To cower away is wrong, regardless of how important we may be. I ravaged the pathetic defences on Lowick with command over Drones just as much as my command over my staff"

Hrajlmak raised and dropped the bottom of his staff to the floor as he uttered the word. He was becoming energetic. Aggressive.

"I felt the claws of the Drael bonded to me just as much as I felt my own claws tear the flesh from that militia. I believe the Ish'makra must be persuaded of this fact. They must realise that to fight with own flesh is the soul of every Drael".

[member="Crona'Tas"]

 

[Crona'Tas]

[SIZE=11pt]The battle of Lowick… Crona had heard of Lowick, although he could not recall the story in full, it was a bit of a legend among his zealots. He had also heard of the great Shaman that lead the battle. Now Crona understood why Tathra wanted them to meet. Crona turned to Hrajlmak, “I’ve heard of the siege of Lowick, you were the one who lead it?” Crona now sounded as serious as when Hrajlmak first entered. He turned to the wall and scoffed, “Nevermind that, we have more important matters to attend to.” He returned to facing Hrajlmak and his previous upbeat spirit.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“The shaman are a broken bunch, what’s the use in a commander that can’t even pick up a sword? I remember my first encounter with their weakness, we were tasked with leading a hunting party of 30 Baedurin to kill a Great Beast.” Crona walked to a small table, where a bottle of a Mjolk, a slightly alcoholic beverage, consisting of milk and the crushed nuts of a bush, that grew in the high mountains of the planet, gave it the feeling of intoxication and Mjolk’s signature taste. “The creature came out of nowhere, practically ambushed us.” Crona begun to pour two glasses of the drink, notable showing signs of anger, by squeezing the bottle as he poured, it started to crack, but it did not break. “It killed 13 of those Baedurin and injured 12, leaving only me, 5 Baedurin, and the other Shaman learners…” Crona had finished pouring the mjolk in the first glass, and was now on the second. “I will [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Never[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] forget what those Shaman did… THEY ran… leaving only me and the 5 Baedurin.” Crona had finished pouring both glasses and turned to Hrailmak. “I will not lie, I was afraid but I always place my dignity over my self preservation." Crona's eyes began to clinch with discomfort, "It killed 3 of the 5, leaving me and the 2 left to kill it… so we did.” Crona was walked to Hrajlmak and stop 2 feet from him. Crona started chuckling to himself , “Ironically, the Shaman were also killed by a pack smaller creatures.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“But that’s not the point of the story, the point is that we must make these new Shaman, fighters that are willing to give their lives for our people, as to prevent anymore incidents such as that.” Crona extended one of the glasses too Hrajlmak, waiting for him to accept it.[/SIZE]

[member="Hrajlmak'Natok"]

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Hrajlmak gripped the glass gently and held it, his eyes resting on the liquid it contained. The story Crona had told him was one he had heard many times, though all in different situations. It was no secret that a Shaman of the Bryn'adul was a formidable foe. From a distance. But once cornered, they were no better than a Sraelvun with an affinity to the Force. Hearing such a pathetic loss of life angered Hrajlmak more than he already was. He knocked the Mjolk back in one go and placed his glass on the table.

"Correct" He looked to Crona, plotting in his eyes.

"We can never allow weakness to be bred in our ranks. The Great Conquest will be brought to this Galaxy and those responsible for co-ordinating it on the surface of these pathetic planets should not be flesh guarded by babysitters. We are warriors. All of us. We fight and we destroy. The Baedurin do not cower. The Sraelvun rip and tear with no thought. We Aeravalin should not be protected. We should be thrown out for we have the greatest advantage of all. Mind. We have the Force and we have minds superior to theirs. The Frontlines will see success and destruction it never has."

[member="Crona'Tas"]

 

[Crona'Tas]

[SIZE=11pt]Crona looked at the Shaman with admiration. He truly had found an equal in this galaxy. It would take many months and mistakes to completely tip the Shaman mindset, but it would be accomplished. No matter the cost, time, and effort, it would happen… it shall come to flourishion Crona’Tas’ and Hrajlmak’Natok’s hand. This day marked the beginning of a true shift of The Bryn’adul’s power.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]All that was needed now was supporters and others that felt that this was a much needed change… Of course, Crona doubted that those resources were in short supply. The only thing he needed to worry about were the true Shamans. The other old bastards that consider the shaman better off behind closed doors.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Crona folded his arms and said “Then let us begin the reaping, brother.”[/SIZE]


[member="Hrajlmak'Natok"]