Private When Barrans Clash

[Thomas Barran]

1st Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags: N/A

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR X: THE KILL THAT NEVER WAS - PART 1

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

An' off they go.
Passing through where I cannot follow.... Such is life for a Khan.

To know great glories, but to exist an' die years afore the true glories come t'pass.
​

As the passageway between life and death closed up behind the Valkyrie, bringing the space beyond back to normalcy as Eina traversed with the twins to the realm of Sedes Aurea, the Great Khan was left alone in the dark, rainy doom of the city he was trying to conquer only a while before, left alone with his thoughts for the first time in weeks. Though there was much clouding Barran's mind before the encounter, the first ever conversation with the future had cleared up much and more, but with it - concerns of greater weight would subdue all corners beneath the skull.

Firstly, on the struggle it would take to bring Mercy back from the brink of revenge, and on all that it would mean for breaking the curses that kept the Trilunars from seeing the twins again, but most of all, dwelling on the very sword the Khan would need to wield for another while longer. After all, there was a lot the Khan needed to process over time, so much on top of everything else in Barran's life that he needed to unpack in silent seclusion, and though the Bloodhound would have it in abundance for as long as he stood in the cold evening rain, much and more still would be needed to know what the right course of action would be. Yet in that fogginess of confusion many layers thick, in that itching need for answers gnawing at the soul hid an early understanding of what was required of an eventual, workable solution.

These were curses, and all of which needed to be broken before the point of no-return was passed, revealing the path to Thomas once more.

But these thoughts, necessary though they were to indulge, hindered other aspects of the mind's workings, namely those of detection and telepathic warding, giving any and all would-be attackers an early advantage. So when the time came to finally draw his thoughts back into the realm of earnest concentration, even Barran himself would understand the dangers he was inviting at the time, but for all the effort he endeavoured to take on the mind of the warrior within, the cruel hands of fate would already be waiting to strike once more. The Bloodhound could even feel the presence of the one who would try their luck next by then, even recognising the pulsating cadence of the attacker's aura, and in that recognition itself lay the one and only name who carried and exuded that power, the one person in this Galaxy with more reason than anyone to want Thomas dead.

'Greetings, Brother.'

 

[Michael Barran]

1st Post

-THE "ARISE/REPENT" SAGA-

CAIRN_ONE
CHAIRMAN OF PELLAEON PMC
GRANDMASTER OF THE ORDER OF THE CHANTING MASK
LORD-IMPERATOR OF THE IMPERIAL MILITARY PROTECTORATE

TAGS
N/A

HEAVY ART THE HEADS V: RETRIBUTION, MANIFEST - PART 1

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Greetings, Brother.... You know why I'm here, eh?'
​

A mask of the purest, most-visceral rage would meet the Bloodhound's one-eyed gaze before drawing the real thing over his fury, a mask of which the Great Khan did not yet recognise, and certainly had not recognized as anything indicative of the Michael embodiment he faced before. The slight confusion, single-browed and uncaring though it was, was easy for the Tattered Regent to see, but before long it would be seen in Michael's eyes, a wide-eyed, manic change in the otherwise-stoic, narrow-gazing expressions. Easier to see by with the Chanting Mask firmly set in place by then, and with it, much more difficult for Thomas to ignore, tapping into something similar to the ferality the Bloodhound was always known for wielding.

'I know not if the men I defeated still live, but what I do know is that they were on their way to protect you, an' I couldn't be having that - obviously not.... I want no interruptions for this, no distractions.'

It was only then that the Khan's remaining eye widened, first in fearful shock, but then again, and wider in a fury of his own; as those were presences of which he knew would have been Witnessed, or awaiting Witness, valuable assets of which the elder brother recognized as irreplaceable. Marauders, and even a hallowed Darkhan, the latter Lord Michael knew was likely to have been closer to the Bloodhound than all the others, but when the Imperator continued,'The Mantellian in particular, he's certainly in a bad way now.... That,"Savrip Soul", thing? Aye, entertaining though it was - it did him no favours whatsoever.', the wrath he saw brewing in response left no doubts as to how closely-knit they were with their leader.

A man who, for all his faults, still had Barran blood in his veins, thus his capabilities and magnetism as a leader came as no surprise before, and even less so in the closing months of 901 ABY. He was no longer the Druid, no longer the Imperial Knight, and no longer the Michael of old - the Wanderer was dead and buried.

All that remained was the Tattered Regent of a realm his own brother destroyed.
Something entirely new to arise like a phoenix from the ashes of yesteryear.

 

[Thomas Barran]

2nd Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags: N/A

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR X: THE KILL THAT NEVER WAS - PART 2

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'So you're stronger now, congratulations.... Though it would appear my brother is drunk on that power.'
​

Looking his opponent up and down with absolute disgust, and not only for the man his younger brother was well on the way to becoming, but for the waste of the man Thomas hoped Michael could be as he continued,'If it were up t'me, I'd consider this lesser version o' you unfit t'call Mira your daughter.... Fortunate you are then that your Shadow has a mind of 'er own, thus enters into your patronage whether I will it or not.', with each and every word biting like a Rancor near-starved. The older brother knew by then that his only chance of victory was by climbing into the headspace of his opponent, as only a rattled opponent would be prone to costly error, as in that small moment of realisation, the Bloodhound would find himself reconciling with a strange, finalistic comfort - the sort Thomas had not felt for decades before that night.

​

'Eeeeh! That's jus' surface-level, there's much more to tell on that front.... An' while we're bein' honest - congratulations, Michael. You're a grandfather now.'

​

Without so much as missing a beat, the masked younger brother removed his war-mask, revealing a glare of a magnitude that extended somewhere far beyond the confines of mere fury; and before long, Michael's beloved Mountainsong would be drawn slowly, and politely from her decorative scabbard, more than willing to wait a little longer for the bloodshed he wanted more than ever. But on the elder brother's side hung the only blade fitting enough to face the younger's in single combat, and when Thomas eventually drew The Promise from her scabbard, unsheathed slowly as the Tattered Regent's own was drawn in turn.

Not that Thomas would be able to see anywhere else but in the subtle-changes in Michael's gaze beneath the Ashlan warmask, but the very sight of the Mongrel's great-sword would instigate a visceral disgust in the heart of the Tattered Regent, as not only was it in the understanding that it was the sword that struck the Imperial down before, but this was also in full awareness it was very the very same sword that slew their father almost a week later. There would be no hiding the fact, nor would there be any aversion to the matter, only the meeting of blades that were very much familiar with their respective counterparts - but there was no mistaking it affected the younger brother more than he could ever have expected.

 

[Michael Barran]

2nd Post

-THE "ARISE/REPENT" SAGA-

CAIRN_ONE
CHAIRMAN OF PELLAEON PMC
GRANDMASTER OF THE ORDER OF THE CHANTING MASK
LORD-IMPERATOR OF THE IMPERIAL MILITARY PROTECTORATE

TAGS
N/A

HEAVY ART THE HEADS V: RETRIBUTION, MANIFEST - PART 2

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

I know not why this was kept from me for so long.
But something tells me this was kept from my Shadow in turn.

I would've known if Mira was keeping something like this from me.
​

Enraged, and to doubtless extremes that even Lord Michael believed he was reversing the personal progress he had been making for so long, unsheathing his darling blade as if by knee-jerk instinct, an instinct of which the Tattered Regent was almost sure had been stifled to death within. Family was still an achilles heel for the younger brother, just as it had been for the elder before he died in 864 ABY, and in realising that his worst enemy was the one to inform Lord Michael of his grandfather status, it seemed as if their rivalry was just one long run of one-sided insults.

​

'Low, even for one as ghoulish as the Bloodhound.'

Finally dropping down from his perch, the masked crusader landed with a impacted grunt before he admitted,'It disappoints me to see you still wield the sword that slew our father.... Why?', posing a question out of demand for the truth as opposed to any semblance of curiosity the Lord Regent definitely lacked at the time. Then out of nowhere, and with just one left-eyed glance at the Silken Lion, the wordless answer would still leave nothing to the imagination, as it was clear the Bloodhound was noting that his brother had taken up the blade that slew his mentor in turn, marking them evenly-scored in the latest contest of chosen-slight for chosen-slight.

'Oh, so we just take up the mantles of our predecessors? Pitting Absolute Order against Absolute Chaos once more? Naaaaah, I jus' want ye dead! Ah'm no here for the sake o' spiritual deciders, no even slightly.... Ah'm jus' here for yer head, AN' I WANT THAT FETHING TROPHY!!!!'

​

By then the Tattered Regent was pacing back and forth, practically chomping at the bit and bearly containing it, but something was holding him back, almost as if there was still a voice within telling him to be curious while the opportunity was still there for him. Yet despite the intensifying wrath that threatened to spill over with ferality at any moment, despite every instinct telling him to commence the fight, the Protectorate's Lord Imperator asked,'Any last words, anything ye want to tell me, afore I part your head from it's shoulders?! Its yer one an' only chance, Br'er.... The last opportunity to get inside my head again.', concluding his part in the prefight parley as silence gave way for the Bloodhound.

 

[Thomas Barran]

3rd Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags: N/A

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR X: THE KILL THAT NEVER WAS - PART 3

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'I think I liked you better when you weren't a fanatic, this doesn't suit you - like, at all!'
​

Circling each other by then, the brothers Barran were poised to fight again already, almost as if the words preceding the duel itself were mere formalities of courtesy, as the eagerness to clash once more was overriding every other, seemingly-redundant need. All that remained was the fight itself, a fact of which both brothers knew and could no longer deny, and when the Bloodhound eventually answered,'I'm done with words.... If you're just going to give ground to yer indignation, I won't humour it. Words will do no good now.', raising the hilt of his greatsword at a high, straight-pointing angle from his left shoulder.

When both opposing elements locked onto each other's gaze once more, the brothers were suddenly stopped in their violent, circling tracks, almost remembering the last time they clashed like this, a dark day that passed over twenty years before that night on Coruscant, a shadow of which both Thomas and Michael alike would feel and see overhead for years after the fact. However, this was also a shadow's existence of which the Barrans had long-since forgotten, or at least, such that had would remain forgotten until the brothers finally crossed paths again; but the creeping dark would be felt growing around them before long, regardless of the lengthy span of time it had taken to forget that veil of hatred between them, a darkness of which almost made the smoky, overcast twilight above seem like a bright evening in contrast.

​

'All we could possibly want by now is the fight, dear Brother! SO HURRY THE FETH UP AN' CALL COMMENCEMENT!!!!'

​

Dropping his posture slightly, the Bloodhound opted to strengthen his core stance from the offset, and though the Tattered Regent adopted a much-lazier posture in contrast, Thomas knew he was wise to offer a strong defensive posture in anticipation of an aggressive opening string of attacks. Made all the more obvious when Michael chose to instigate a second round of pre-engagement circling, a dance of which the Khan was quite willing to indulge despite the deep stance of choice, though it was clear the Lord Imperator cared little and less about the tells his movements were giving away, another sign of the clear difference in the balance of power for the second bout.

The Bloodhound was facing a danger of the likes he had never faced before, and as the slowly-passing moments of silence elapsed in real-time - he would become increasingly-aware of this fact.

 

[Michael Barran]

3rd Post

-THE "ARISE/REPENT" SAGA-

CAIRN_ONE
HIGH-MARSHAL OF SABRETOOTH LEGION
GRANDMASTER OF THE ORDER OF THE CHANTING MASK
LORD-IMPERATOR OF THE IMPERIAL MILITARY PROTECTORATE

TAGS
N/A

HEAVY ART THE HEADS V: RETRIBUTION, MANIFEST - PART 3

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Gooood, taking the fighting form seriously in the rematch! You'll be needing it this time, Br'er!'
​

The clean-set form of the Bloodhound's fighting stance, frightening though it had been to behold before, seemed to amuse the Tattered Regent greatly, even giggling like a braying scavenger-dog of the Novanian Wetlands as they circled each other, a sign that Thomas was no longer viewed as the same threat from before. Michael himself, though there was no sign of adopting such a guard this time around, had been quick to set into a Fiorist fighting stance in their first outing, but Mountainsong was growling and clinking along the gravel-strewn Metacrete as the brothers Barran continued to circle on each other.

'I'm sorry about that, its just- ahahahahahahaHAAAAAAAAAA!!!! I expected you to be stronger by now, seriously! Throughout all my post-Bacta recovery, throughout all my rehabilitation, physio, training an' all my meditation, an' we're talkin' serious hours racked up in the effort t'grow stronger - I genuinely believed you would be, like, some mad, unconquerable titan by now.'

Becoming the threat this time, and in such a resoundly-contradictory way, for all the big gestures would be cast aside in redundance to the murderous intent that would stand in place of a need to appear big. Blood-memory would never factor in to such intent, as there would be no need to discourage a bear he fully-intended to mark as a trophy-to-be, a head to be parted from it's shoulders, thus the Lord Imperator would gleefully part with habits of conventional swordsmen. The Wanderer of old had resolved to kill the Bloodhound after all, as whoever, or rather, whatever the Mongrel's protege was, Michael had already resolved to send it back to the Nether in a bloody pulp, closing the book on the previous century once and for all.

'So imagine my surprise t'find ye wallowin' in yer ane despair, weepin' in the rain, brought t'yer knees by the weight o' yer ane misery!'

 

[Thomas Barran]

4th Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags: N/A

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR X: THE KILL THAT NEVER WAS - PART 4

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Ya dirty bastard ye-! An' ye became what ye said ye wouldn't - ye became a zealot efter aw.'
​

Michael was making it personal, working to get under his brother's skin, but Thomas could see through it, yet there was no way to keep the Great Khan from being infuriated by the Tattered Regent's gall for even thinking to play on the Bloodhound's feelings. Thinking it might have been a response to the due revelation of Michael's status as a grandfather, or perhaps in the insistence to wield the blade he used to kill their father, but the damage was already done, thus no more negotiation for honour could be afforded the Tattered Regent going forward, and especially not if the mindgames were assuredly afoot by then.

'Is that the way of it? "Like faither, like son.", aye? Ye became what we baith set oot tae avoid, because you stopped aspiring to be better than oor auld man along the way.... Sadder than the excuse that you call yer so-called Faith in Ashla - yer mask isn't fooling a soul.'

Leaning into his poise, and with back-heels raised to strike within an instant of vocalised commencement, the Great Khan finally bellowed,'Call commencement aw'ready! Call it - OR I WILL!!!!', very much done with all the Lord-Imperator's needless, prattling efforts to savour the moment. Murder was surely on Michael's mind, but in that increasing descent into bloodlust, Thomas understood that his brother was gradually losing all sense of self to that fury, knowing exactly how it felt to give in to such violent urges. A revelation in and of itself, one of which that would highlight the Bloodhound's need to prevail, as there was an increasing likelihood that defeat would mean a horribly gruesome death at the hands of a brother with whom, (for better or worse) he still harboured a soul-deep connection that escaped the norms of articulation.

'CALL IT, MICHAEL!!!! FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!'

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH
​

A release of power, one of which that Michael knew was not too dissimilar to the surges he had experienced emanating from Thomas in their first duel, but both brothers knew this occasion to be a showing much stronger than any that the Bloodhound had exuded before. However, what followed would register to much-greater suprise in their minds, as this would not be comprehended as something Midichlorian, and especially not by the Tattered Regent. One who recognised every molecule of that which was emanating from his brother's soul at the time, but for as long as cards were to be kept close to the chest, Michael would reveal nothing of his own, relevant proficiency in this obscure natural power.

'CALL COMMENCEMENT, COWARD!!!! LETS GET THIS FIGHT UNDERWAY - ONCE AN' FOR ALL!!!!'

 

[Michael Barran]

4th Post

-THE "ARISE/REPENT" SAGA-

CAIRN_ONE
HIGH-MARSHAL OF SABRETOOTH LEGION
GRANDMASTER OF THE ORDER OF THE CHANTING MASK
LORD-IMPERATOR OF THE IMPERIAL MILITARY PROTECTORATE

TAGS
N/A

HEAVY ART THE HEADS V: RETRIBUTION, MANIFEST - PART 4

SLUM ZONE 4, DARK IMPERIAL BATTLEFRONT,
CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Yeeeeees! Bring it aaaaaaall out for yer opponent t'see! Play aaaaaaw yer hands at once!'
​

Finally, the confrontation was getting to a place where they could clash again, and much more quickly than before, but in seeing the sudden, fleeting surge of strength in his brother, Michael couldn't help but bask in all the excitement it was bringing out from within his soul. Much like the power that naturally resonated from within the Tattered Regent's soul, so too would the rush of ecstatic intensity, but unlike all the fights Michael had endeavoured before that night, the old Woad was electing instead to indulge the implied thirst for blood. Paying patricide with fratricide, for such were the wages for Goidelic sins - paying curse with curse in the wake of a chieftain's demise.

'I WANT YE FROTHIN' AT THE MOUTH AFORE THE END!!!! SHOW ME THE DEMON I FACED ON NIRAUAN!!!! SHOW ME THE BASTARD WHO STOMPED, TWO-FOOTED, ON THE SKULL OF HIS OWN BROTHER!!!!'

​

Thomas had (though quite unwittingly-) emitted a foreign emission of Inherited Will in declared readiness, but in renewed understanding of his progress in training since, Michael would feel no such need to activate more than the level of power he was toying with at the time, obviously still being of a mind to play with his prey for practice. Thus no such respect for opponents would be afforded the Bloodhound going forward, and especially not after watching his brother scattering raindrops with a power inherited from someone else entirely, a display that would have gained the Tattered Regent's respect in other circumstances, though this would only count if this display had emanated from a respectable opponent in the Khan's place.

In other Goidelic souls, this would have been viewed as an admirable attempt to break the tribal mould, but in the flayed, wispy mess that his latest opponent called a soul, the Lord-Imperator knew that this was a manifestation of the Khan's complete estrangement from the clan who raised him. Only divine hands of cosmic celestiality could intervene, returning the lost lion to the pride who raised him, but nothing would stop the eventual clash of brothers if divine hands turned away in back-turned apathy; not on Coruscant, not in the Deep Core, none could keep swords from clashing by then.

'SHOW ME THE MONSTER WITHIN, FREAK!!!! SHOW ME WHAT YOU REALLY ARE BENEATH IT ALL!!!!

Stopping in his tracks, finally setting somethhing akin to a worthy attacking-poise, the Tattered Regent finally made a show of preparing himself for single combat - lowering posture against his brother for the second time.

'Form.... Set...... BEGIN!!!!'