Dominion The Vinesworn Rebellion | BotM Dominion of Ool

[Heca Foliou]

The clearing she caused gathered the attention of other friendlies nearby. The Sith Lord and a Mandalorian, the latter she had little to no respect while recognizing the warrior’s skillset for destruction. Naturally, killing and destroying was what they specialized. Just another pawn for the Sith’s expansion was what the Mandalorian and the Zealots were. The former gained her respect and envy, knowing at a glance she was more skilled in the ways of the Force.

“I would recommend scorching…indiscriminately,” she said to the Sith, paying no attention to the Mandalorian although he would hear Heca’s dialogue. The walls around her mind became more sturdy, not for the carnivorous sentient plants, but rather for the Sith Lord near her. Deception was a common plot amongst their ilk, all in the name of power and ambition…or whatever else they desire. The little Mori knew about Heca, the better.

Necessary to work together, but little trust she had in the Sith.

“Perhaps a thermal detonator for us to begin,” offering a chance for the Mandalorian to speak up and offer assistance if he had the particular grenade on his person. Disgusted as he ate the flesh from one of the deceased plants he killed.

No wonder why their culture regressed and declined.

Darth Mori | Kralmus Orr​

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Ool, High Orbit
Tags: Dyans Keto | Marlon Sularen | Alars Keto | Electra-12 | Dalos Cameron

As the Tartarus fell, the dark hopes of the Brotherhood rose.

An infested Crucifix I-class broke apart under the bombardment from the Taskmaster's battle group, and Tu'teggacha found his facial tendrils twisting into the ghastly Ebruchi equivalent of a smile. With the power of the Holy Crusaders, Final Dawn, and Mawite Warfleet combined, even the vile resilience of the Vinesworn-twisted ships was not enough to withstand the incoming firepower. Ships on the verge of escaping the system, delivering their cargoes of twisted plant-mutants to who knew where, were swiftly targeted and blown apart in a withering hail of laserfire - quite literally, for the plant-like growths withered before that terrible heat.

It was a beautiful sight... and a powerful feeling, sensing the despair of the Drengir Collective.

"Taskmaster!" one of the bridge officers said, pulling him from his dark reverie, "we have recovered the Tartarus's saboteur, but he is badly injured!" The Ebruchi's tentacles pulled into a frown; it would not do to lose so valueable an agent, whoever it was. Without the sabotage that had turned the tide of battle, Tu'teggacha himself would have been reduced to atomized space debris drifting on the solar wind. The Taskmaster was not wildly familiar with the concept of gratitude, and did not like to feel indebted to other beings. Instead, he chose to view this individual as a valuable asset, one who might save his life again someday.

"Take him to the medbay," the Ebruchi ordered. "Preserve his life at all costs."

With Dalos Cameron en route to receive the medical attention he so badly needed, with bacta patches and synthskin grafts to gradually repair the terrible burns he'd suffered, Tu'teggacha turned back to the task of mopping up what was left of the Vinesworn fleet. As soon as the last of these vessels was destroyed, he could move his own ships into position to bombard Ool from orbit. Nothing would be left to chance; the former Chiss agriworld would have to be fully glassed, even once Alars Keto and his Drengir masters had been manually dispatched. No mutant plant, no trace of the Collective's corruption, could be allowed to survive.

They would have to replant Ool's farms in the ashes... but then, ashes made good fertilizer.

 

[Kralmus Orr]

​

Location: Ool, Infested Farmland
Tags: Darth Mori | Heca Foliou

​

Kralmus didn't need the Force to sense that Heca Foliou was disgusted by his behavior. He knew the look in her eyes all too well, for he saw it nearly every time he fed; precious few beings in this galaxy understood his... appetites. But no matter. He reveled in the disgust that his vile feasts provoked. It amused him to make others uncomfortable, to set their teeth on edge while his own sharpened ones tore into sentient flesh. It kept people off balance, and often led them to underestimate him. Many had dismissed Kralmus as little more than an animal, but it was foolish to dismiss animals; their savage instincts were often better suited to war than refined 'tactics'.

In any case, he had grown bored with the idea of mutant flesh; he was no salad-eater, and that was what these half-tree wretches tasted like to him, salad at best and logs at worst. Perhaps the next threat to face the Maw would have some actual meat on its bones. For now, if there was to be no flavor in this particular undertaking, he might as well find another way to amuse himself. At least the creatures screamed and flailed when they burned, which provided considerable entertainment value. Fire and axe had always been the foes of the forest, and here he was, outfitted with both. If a collective consciousness could know fear, he intended to inflict it today.

“Perhaps a thermal detonator for us to begin.”

"As my lady wishes," Kralmus grinned, showing off ichor-stained teeth as he swept forward in a mocking bow. He reached down to his belt and drew forth the requested grenade, sliding the switch along the side of the metal sphere to prime it. Setting his sights on a group of mutants emerging from the treeline, he reared back and hurled the thermal detonator with all of his considerable strength. He had a good arm, and was well-practiced in aiming such things, though he generally preferred the quiet but brutal impact of throwing hatchets to simply blowing his prey apart. The grenade bounced off the head of the third Vinesworn in line with a little thunk...

... and then burst in an expanding ball of searing heat, engulfing all six of them in seconds.

Pulling his axe from the corpse he'd paused to sample, Kralmus straightened up, leaning the weapon on one broad shoulder. "Shall we close in and finish them now? Distance warfare is so much less... intimate." The Mandalorian loved the spray of blood across his visor, the bone-jarring impact of weapons cleaving through ribcages, all the little pleasures of a face-to-face fight. With the Vinesworn being pushed out of the farmland and into their darkened forest lair, that sort of melee was surely the next stage of battle, for the thick undergrowth would make ranged attacks far harder to aim. Some called blasters elegant. Kralmus called them lazy.

Real warriors killed their foes with arm strength, so far as he was concerned.

 

[The Mongrel]

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Location: Ool, Infested Farmland
Tags: Alars Keto | Zachariel Steelblood | Khaostra Devoid | Darth Saevius

The dropship burst in a ball of flame, clearing the way.

If there was one thing The Mongrel was proudest of his Scar Hounds for, it was their adaptability. They had fought battles all across the galaxy, facing a dizzying array of foes - the savage Gundanbard hordes of Mar'zambul, the elite strand casts of the Sith Empire, the sorcerous Jedi Knights, the fearsome tank divisions of Galidraan, and countless others. No two foes could be conquered in the same way; their tactics, abilities, and arsenals varied far too greatly. And yet the Scar Hounds had found a way to stand against each one in turn.

Today, the secret was fire. The withdrawal from the monstrous Drengir and the sacrifice of the dropship had bought the tribe time to re-tool their own arsenal, and they'd taken full advantage of that. The anti-armor plasma wielders had pulled back, no longer needed with the enemy walkers destroyed, and the Scav Kings had taken the time to swap out the various armaments on their mighty battleframes. Never mind missile launchers or concussion rifles; shrapnel and kinetic damage were things that the fast-healing Vinesworn could withstand.

Bring on the fire and ice instead.

When the Scav Kings advanced once more, the flame-breathing wardogs swarming around them, they did so with fresh weapons. Flame projectors intensified the heat, shriveling up the plant monsters and setting their forest refuge ablaze. At the same time, cryoban grenades and carbonite projectors made their own mark, freezing the vegetable tissue solid so that follow-up strikes could melt or shatter it before it could heal itself. The farmland was secure now, and the advance into the haunted woods had begun in earnest.

Let Steelblood have Kryll. The Scar Hounds would clean up here.

 

[The Human]

Tartarus Hanger Bay​

Injuries: Partially Crushed Left Hip (Medicated, Dull Pain), Complete Full Body Radiation Burns, Force Burns, Several Blaster Wounds on chest, right arm.
Equipment: None
TAG: Darth Solipsis Marlon Sularen Alars Keto Dyans Keto Darth Tennacus Kralmus Orr Tu'teggacha Darth Saevius Khaostra Devoid The Mongrel Zachariel Steelblood Darth Mori Electra-12

His mind was a complete haze as he felt himself carried off. His body was full of radiation burns and burns from the Force itself. Rather quickly, he felt himself on a table as multiple needles injected into him which caused the last bit of pain resistance to wear off, causing him to scream for a moment before passing out. From the medical personals prospective, this male should been dead hours ago yet somehow refused to die and they did all they could to keep him alive. The armor of the humans was stripped off and thrown into radiation bins, his own skin slowly being fitted for skin grafts as the needles inside his body was pumping anthesis, bacta and blood back into the individuals body to keep him alive.

"This man will need a full bacta bath, keep placing more onto him."

All the hair off his chin and balding head was now darker than coal and the simple touch would turn into dust. Cloths were used gently to scrape off the worst of it as his own eyebrows were reduced to nothing. Carefully, his face was starting to get reconstructed from the ground up and was having skin gaffs to hold the most important facial features in place. More needles were injected to start repairing muscle tissue, as well as skin around his body as they started to peel off and bleed even worse than before.

After they finished their work in an hour, they had him placed into a large bacta tank and was submerged completely in the liquid. When they stepped back, the doctors on duty considered it possibly taking weeks for the individual to start even moving again, having him completely knocked out for hte duration. The Humans story was now over for now, though the battle around them was still ongoing.

 

[Vesta]

Heat Stroke​

Her head tilted to the right, then to the left, cracking the vertebrae in her neck that had become stiff with all of this walking and standing around. The concept of fire had, of course, been the woman's obvious choice for dealing with the Drengir - lightsabers and objects of more precise harm seemed to do little more than let the plants split apart and survive as two rather than one, like worms. She nodded in regards to the suggestion offered by Heca Foliou but did not comment, her eyes instead moving her attention towards the drengir that had began to venture closer than she would have liked - perhaps excited by the gathering of their potential food, or maybe aware the one-armed Sith was currently without the advantage she would have had over an overwhelming number of them. The reason, regardless, didn't matter to her as the result was still the same.

The flames that had scorched the earth beneath her feet vanished as Kralmus Orr tossed his detonator, lighting up the tree line with flames from an ignited organic matter and combusted air, and she continued her approach towards it uninterrupted. "Distance is disadvantageous anyway." She offered, increasing her pace to a light jog. This wasn't strictly true, but it was in their case - they didn't have access to the sorts of tools that would have cleared away the jungle growth, much less the drengir, beyond the limited scope of weaponry the Mandalorian carried with him and the, also, limited purview of the force which benefited them just as much from afar as it did up close.

Unarmed, hardly armored - if clothing counted as such - she appeared, by all merits, as easy prey, particularly given the absence of one of her arms. The truth of the perception this offered was put to the test moments later when she reached the charred edge of the forest, set upon by the drengir that had lay in wait for her and her companions to venture closer. Vines lifted out from broken trunks, branches descended from the base of canopies, and great creatures that looked like moss, grass, and thorn given life emerged to try to assail her.

There was a scream, many of them, but it wasn't from her.

The air that surrounded the Sith had become superheated, the molecules within it moving at several times the vibrational frequency they normally did, and, despite the seeming lack of effect it had one the woman it surrounded, it was hot enough to spontaneously combust the flammable plant-life that tried to reach through it for her. Reaching for a thorn-covered vine that had tried to reach for her neck from the side of her that remained without an arm to defend herself with, she grabbed onto its woody surface and grinned as flames ran down its length over the drengir it sprouted from and into the dry undergrowth beneath and behind it.

"Perhaps it would have been best if you discovered how to deal with fire before you made us your enemy." She taunted.

The fire spread.

 

[Alars Keto]

Once more into the fold.

Those terrible, fearsome screeches rolled off his tongue. The sounds of a hundred voices speaking in unison. That primal, guttural tongue of the Drengir.

Once more into the fold.

Kryll was gone. Eldervine had done it’s job well, so lost was the Mawite butcher in the vines, so lost was he in the hive mind of the Great Mass.
As the Vinesworn fought and died for their masters, as the great battlecruiser ‘Tartarus’ split open, Kryll watched.

The Brotherhood’s Mawite hordes fought and died to halt the Vinesworn Rebellion, they bled in the name of the Dark Three, they overcame everything the Drengir threw at them. Even the dark ones themselves began to fear, even the dark ones began to fall.

A light.

The sight and smell of blood so foul, and the raging call of the Dark Side guided his way. The Mawite wandered through the vine covered mass, the great labyrinth made of growth and greenery. They screamed at him, they called to him but he would not turn to answer. The Warrior scowled and stepped into the light.

Eyes wide open.

The sky began to cry, tears of Rebirth as Death reaped it’s harvest. They were not tears of sorrow but of joy. Kryll was coming home.

“Argaaaahhhhh!”

His eyes cleared away the thick fog that shrouded his mind, the Warrior drew his blade and hacked away at his nearby honor guard with renewed vigor. His Atrisian War Blade roared to life as the plasma filament screeched forth with each swing cleaving through all that opposed him.

“War! Death! Rebirth!”

He stepped upon the view and gazed over the battlefield once more. It would not be long before the Drengir would claim him once more, without him they were doomed. Without access to his secrets his tactics the MAW would claim them and burn out their infestation.

“The Gospel made manifest. I will live on.”

Stepping off the cliff side, he skid down upon the rock slope into the forest. He would seek out his fate and end this destructive conflict but not before engaging in one last duel to prove himself worthy. A warrior’s death.

​

 

[Dyans Keto]

Post: 2
Objective: Victory
Tags: Tu'teggacha

Spoiler: Fleet

Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Desolation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Devastation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Desperation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Decadence)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Dancer)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Dabbler)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Deliverer)
X10 Samael Class Frigate
x8 Cr90 Corvettes
X71 Squadrons Nssis-class Clawcraft
x27 Squadrons of Support Craft
X300 Spider Cruiser fully load with Crusader troopers

​

War wages on in the space above and lands below as the God's watch on deciding who would be their champions to Carry on this crusade. Who would carry forth their destruction to herald the rebirth of the Galaxy anew would it be those sworn to the Maw or those once allied with the Maw the those sworn to the Vine. The God's cared not who won so long as one side was triumphant and their word would be carried into the core and beyond. Emerald eyes watched as her ships, Other Maw Fleets, and the ships of the Final dawn pressed on taking heavy fire but not giving an inch pushing the Vinesworn to their limits. All of Dyans fleet was engaged and, in that moment, she saw an opening just the briefest of openings.


With just a single glance to her comms officer, comms were open to the spiders in waiting. "Swarm the world." Were the words that left her lips and as she did Three hundred spider cruisers pushed forward at full speed for the planet. "Burn them to their roots and let no seed remain, today we show every tribe what happens when you betray the Maw." Her words were stern as her piercing emerald eyes watch the ships swarm down on the world.


The Sky began to grow dark as the Spiders enter the atmosphere a swarm of giant arachnid ships descending on the battle fields Ool. Reinforcements had final arrived for all those who had been shedding their blood into the fields to feed soil to fuel the vine. Thrusters engaged as the spiders descended. The Moment they landed their hatches fell open and troops in heavy battle armor armed with he best weapons the Maw had at there disposal poured forth. In total there was twelve thousand men. Though not the full might of the growing Crusade it was a sizable force that would show they were not here for business, and they were not messing around.


The Crusaders would take no prisoners anyone allied or who had been infected by the mental rot of the vine sworn would be exterminated. The Crusaders began to form in marching lines and before long they were meeting up with, the rest of the Maw forces they burned the vine to the roots with fire armed with weapons of hell fire they scorched any earth that had any s3ense of tainted rot of the vine. No fruit would ever again be born on the world of Ool.


The Massive force moved as one and every Vinesworn or even Mawite who did not identify themselves properly was mowed down without second of hesitation. Their black uniform armor in vast contrast to the rest of the Maw raider clans for the most part. The soldiers did not yell battle cries or pound their chest like barbarians they just marched on carrying out the orders handed down to them. The Glory of the Gods will carried out efficiently and with out an once of mercy. The spoils of war did not matter only the blood of heretics, heathens, traitors, disbelievers, and the Non-believers sacrifices to the Gods mattered.


A smile crossed Dyans face as she was told that forces on the ground had begun their extermination of the Vine and anyone who stood with them. Her emerald eyes return to the war in the skies she knew here generals on the ground would Burn them to the root and leave no seed remaining even if it meant burning the whole world to Ash no rot would remain by days end. "Press forward and launch everything we have at there ships now, we are fully pressing them no seed will survive."

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Location: Near Kryll's location, waiting
Tags: Alars Keto
Links: Weapons

The beast fell beneath him, dead to the countless puncture wounds Zachariel had inflicted. Those hadn't been its death knell, it had been the damage done within that had spelled the beasts doom. Rising from the creatures fallen form, Zachariel regained part of his own grizzly visage, looking heavenward and roaring his victory to the Gods. Heaving with the exertion, Zachariel rounded on his own forces, glaring down at the few Chosen who had survived. Only a paltry few remained, the rest having died in battle to the drengir. Under his glowering gaze, the Chosen finished mopping up the zombies brought back by the drengir. Then they turned to him, surprised to see him in such a state.

Ignoring their stares, Zachariel simply motioned forward, even as he looked towards his armor. Wordlessly, they marched past, putting up a defensive line behind the body of the drengir. As for the warlord, he slithered down the body, making his way to his armor. Glancing down at the messy pile of armor plates and connections, he let out a low snarl of annoyance. Straightening the armor out, Zachariel set about sliding back into the armor, a process that took a few minutes. During this time, the Chosen held off a handful of attacks, and noted the movement of their foe all around. Eventually Zachariel joined them, now wearing his armor once more, and annoyed at the delay. Luckily enough, the Chosen had good news for him.

"My lord, we have reports of Kryll moving. He's been spotted headed towards the front lines in the forest, without retinue as of now." The Chosen who spoke motioned towards the deeper forest, in the direction of the drengir cove. "Somewhere there, my lord."

Giving a dark chuckle, Zachariel turned in that direction and began to run. He had sensed his target move, but had lost track of Kryll in the fight against the drengir. Now though, with a direction to hunt, Zachariel latched onto the 'scent' with glee. Running towards the target, he occassionally shifted to adjust for any of Kryll's own movements. Behind the warlord came his Chosen, though they were falling more and more behind. Their heavy armor was a detriment now, excellent for taking damage, but rather poor movement wise, especially with such distances. Yet Zachariel ignored them, instead picking up speed, smashing through the forest with a single minded focus.

After some time, Zachariel neared Kryll's position, sensing the man was nearing. Halting where he was, Zachariel held his weapons loosely by his side. Glaring towards the location where Kryll was most likely to appear, the warlord waited for his former lieutenant to appear.

 

[Darth Saevius]

​

Tags: Alars Keto Zachariel Steelblood

There was an ancient saying well known throughout the galaxy; 'good things came for those with patience'. The inquisitor had spent far too much time trundling through the muck to find his target. He could feel him through the force - the tainted presence of a former champion of the dark side brought low, enthralled under the thumb of the Drengir. He was close, close enough that Saevius could feel his senses draw ever more on edge. As he charged through the forestry, devoid of his honor guard, Saevius' eyes set upon his target. It was the inquisitor's intent to apprehend one of the mindless husks entangled within the hivemind, but it hadn't occurred to him that the possibility was there to ensnare the main puppet of the Drengir himself. Saevius wasted little time to ambush his target, leaping through the air and what few bushes had previously masked his presence; his lightsaber upraised in the air.

Before he closed the distance, Saevius launched a quick burst in the form of a force push toward his opponent, hoping to knock him off balance. As he closed the distance over the following seconds, Saevius lashed out with one beam of his lightsaber, the blow aimed at Kryll's hip as if to cleave his left leg from his body. A test subject did not need all of his limbs to be useful, of course. As battle commenced between the thrall of the Drengir and Saevius, the inquisitor could feel yet another series of presences bearing down upon them. They did not feel like the tainted souls of those lost to the hivemind - no, this was a powerful, carnal presence within the force. Zachariel Steelblood was nearing, and from what Saevius could determine, slowed his pace just on the other side of the clearing behind the treeline.

It was likely that Saevius would have little time to himself to try and claim this prize for himself, but he would do the best he could. Surely a Sith as powerful as Zachariel would hear the fighting, sense the tension before him. He did not know the warlord personally, only by reputation. For all he knew, Zachariel would sooner see him as a rival to be eliminated rather than an ally. But it mattered not to Saevius - if he needed to, he would add yet another corpse to this planet if it meant he would secure his target.

​

 

[Alars Keto]

R E B I R T H​

The thick brush parted before the dark warrior as his Atrisian warblade crackled and hummed with the red plasma filament rippling along the razor's edge, the charred greenery lit aflame softly as Kryll used his blade to push past. There he was, his former warlord Zachariel Steelblood , the closest thing to a brother next to The Mongrel .

"Steelblood!"

His eyes pulsed green as the Drengir fought for control, adrenaline coursed through his body, he fought them off with all his will. Their rebellion would burn, without him there was little hope against the Brotherhood. He would choose his own ending. Extending his blade outward the marauder readied himself into stance, a small treeline and a flowing stream was all that was set between them as the burning brush began to spread around them from the chaos of the raging battle.

"War, Death, Rebirth!"

His eyes snapped to as his augmented, preternatural senses roared from the rippling sensation of the empyrean. Kryll's body stumbled back, caught wholesomely off guard, he struggled to quickly regain his footing. The Dark Side rippled violently with the sudden emergence of Darth Saevius pouncing on his postion, a Lord of the Sith among the New Sith Order. Such a foe was a monsoon of violence unfurled, the glory if he could defeat him. His blade instinctively raised to parry the sudden blow of dealt by the Sith Lord as his crimson blade crashed against the filament edge.

Kryll struggled to hold back the powerful weight delivered by Saevius, an attack aimed to cleave his leg from the trunk of his body. The marauder pushed off, immediately falling upon his training in Teras Kasi to try and levi the situation in his favor. Repelling himself off his foe's saber once more, the warrior attempted to drop low and sweep his opponent's legs out from under him. He would have to use every advantage he had to just survive.

​

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Location: Near Kryll's location, waiting
Tags: Alars Keto | Darth Saevius
Links: Weapons​

Zachariel had paused, watching where Kryll would emerge, waiting for his former lieutenant to appear. Soon enough, he did, immediately recognizing him and challenging him. Sneering beneath his helm, he called back to Kryll, disdain evident in his voice.
"You no longer have the right to use that warcry, traitor. Your only right is to die by my blade."

For one, long and eternal moment, they advanced on each other, before they were interrupted by another. Zachariel felt it more than he saw it, another jumping into the fray and attacking Kryll. Snarling, he rushed forward, crossing the trees and the stream, shortly coming into view of the duel. Pausing, he took the situation in, along with his target and opponent. Kryll hadn't changed much, though his affiliation with the Drengir was evident. However, the other one was clearly a Sith. One that Zachariel didn't know, nor did he care for him. The fool was taking on his target, his kill, that simply wouldn't do.

In that moment, as with so many others, Zachariel didn't care in the slightest who the other person was. Saevius was simply in the way of his true target, while also engaging said target. Annoying to be sure, but annoyance were to be overcome and destroyed. Sneering, Zachariel shot forward, weapons spinning once before he jumped. Roaring while in the air, he came crashing down, weapons striking forward immediately. His axe swung towards Kryll, while his sword struck at Saevius.

"Leave, or die with the traitor."
His voice was a low growl, even as he continued his attack.

 

[Darth Saevius]

Tags: Zachariel Steelblood Alars Keto

Saevius' expression bore steely resolve as his lightsaber impacted against the blade of the thusly possessed thrall of the Drengir. His body moved as one with the force, his senses hyper-aware of his surroundings as the form of Zachariel Steelblood bounded toward him. Kryll's manuever to trip up Saevius found purchase upon the inquisitor's left ankle, which caused him to trip backward. Yet, Saevius took advantage in the shift in weight, and used the force to increase the backward momentum of his body. He extended his free hand to the dirt as he completed the backflip, landing to his feet at just the right time to bring his blade up to deflect the blow from Zachariel's sword with the left half of his blade.

Steel and lightsaber met but an instant, as Saevius' body flowed like a stream of water. Whatever words Zachariel bellowed in an attempt to intimidate the Sith fell on deaf ears, as Saevius focused on nothing else but securing his prize. Within moments, Saevius pivoted on his right foot, bringing the blade catching Zachariel's weapon into a forceful parry to the side. But Saevius did not stop there. He moved with near-superhuman quickness as he turned 360-degrees, lashing out with the right ended blade of his lightsaber into a forceful thrust into Zachariel's presumably exposed right hip. He was quick to capitalize on the maneuver, as he also lashed out with his pivot foot to hopefully catch Zachariel's own foot and trip him into a prone position, should the warlord attempt to evade the saber attack.

Easily the most notable detail within the onset of this engagement was the stark difference between the three combatants. Kryll very much appeared to be firmly within the grasp of the Drengir parasites; Zachariel was most assuredly deep within the throes of his bloodlust. Yet Saevius, despite the well honed precision and purpose he moved with, had a mask of indifference across his face. Anger was not the basis in which he drew upon his power, at least in this instance - nor was it passion. It was a keen sense of superiority. Whatever the outcome of his maneuvers, it would be plainly clear that this bloodthirsty brute was not contending with some underling to be ignored. If Saevius had to maim the fool to prove the point, then so be it.

​