Dominion Bryn'adûl | The Peeling of Kegan

[Primal Architect]

KEGAN
​

The Planet Kegan, bashfully unimportant and pathetic. Long since forgotten by the Galaxy, when the Bryn'adûl arrived they arrived with only one ship. Scans showed a single city, with a paltry number of defenders. Any vessels were obliterated almost immediately when the Bryn'adûl Conquester arrived in low-orbit above the city of five rings. However, the destruction seemed to have drawn out those few derelict warriors who remained on the planet. Additionally, it seemed as though some few survivors of Nibelungen had infested the city. Several dozen acolytes of the light seemed stern in their call to defend the City. Regardless of their infinitesimal numbers, the heroics of the acolytes brought the foolishly brave members of the populace into some strange focus; now ready to fight for their lives.

Amused by this, Tathra has descended alongside a small detachment of Bryn'adûl forces into the city to deal with the upstarts.

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
Face off against the Jedi defenders and the foolish soldiers fighting alongside them. Move throughout the City and cull the populace. Destroy their Domes, their circles, and bring down everything in a bluster of smoke and ash. Wipe this pathetic city off of the face of the Galaxy.

TAGS - Sarask Hiskt | Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir |

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - One
TAGS - Sarask Hiskt | Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir |

Tathra and his forces had descended into the Gathering Circle, focusing their attack on the Central Dwelling and its adjacent Coliseum. A handful of Jedi have diverted to the Coliseum, trying to draw away from their Civilians. They fought hard, but it didn't take long for the 10th Regiment to break their lines, nor for Tathra to engage them.

The vorpal beard of the Long-Axe glimmered amongst the fire and molten air, the red vapour trail littering the piles of corpses with small embers, embers that would catch fire and fill the air with the stench of burning corpses. Those caught by his blade ignited as their skin melted into their sinew and muscle, screams and blackened smoke rising through the open-roofed Coliseum.

Tathra was dropped into a crouched position, Compact-Shield drawn as a rocket collided with the centre of the shield. The fire was warped into a shard of flame as it was batted aside, the Titan's advance unrelenting as he darted through the corpses; Long-Axe held close to the chest in his dominant hand as he cut through a dozen more soldiers, the Jedi could tell what he was - feel what he was.

They were drawn to him.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: Peel back Shrek!

Post: 1

Tags: Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir | Tathra Khaeus

They called him Shrekma, so that must be his name. The alien below her had two tails on either side of its head, maybe what they called a Togruta, or the other kind. She didn’t particularly care. All she knew was it looked important, and with a free reign, she decided to go after the more important ones. There was no sport in the small fries. She was upside down, her fingers pressed into the wall. Watching, listening. It was speaking, she didn’t particularly care what it said, nor could she understand it.

She did know some Bryn’adul spoke the languages of the weaker species, so she kept her voice coms open so they could listen to what it had to say. Maybe it was orders. Maybe it was the evacuations of stupid silks, she should strangle them with some. That’d make it more useful for once in its shelf-life.

It seemed to be a Jedi, or just a general force user as it had once of those sticks that ignited into a plasma blade or the like. It was speaking over its own coms, and to a couple of other, aware of the commotion and fighting happening in the city. They weren’t, however, aware of the Shadow above them.

One of the attendants glanced around, before looking up. They made eye-contact. Before he could open his mouth to scream or give an alarm, she dropped, crushing the male under her legs and feet, snapping its spine under her weight. She drew her weapons and with one slick motion she decapitated the other two with a flick of her wrists, superior steel cutting into flimsy flesh.

The final one, Shrekma itself, drew its plasma blade, seemingly unworried at the sight of one singular assassin. Sarask grinned, though it was hard to see with her facial structure.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - Two
TAGS - Sarask Hiskt | Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir |

His forces diverted the attention of the Jedi away from solely himself, forced to protect themselves as he darted amongst them. The closest, a tall humanoid male with a pale green saber. He would single him out, using the range of his Long-Axe to put the Jedi on the backfoot. The Jedi switched to Makashi, the Lightsaber fencing form - ah, a duellist. Quick, precise blows, difficult to counter, but he had leverage.

When the green blade came close, Tathra caught the weak of the blade with the mid-length of the Axe, pushing it lef toward the Axe's head as he brought his right arm forward in a jabbing motion with the pommel of the Axe. The Jedi duelist ducked under the pommel, retreating with a force imbued dashing side-step.

Whether he knew it or not yet, he'd been singled out. Tathra followed, grand strikes shook the sand beneath their feet, three metric tons of angry Draelvasier coming for him. Tathra went on the offensive, swinging low for the Jedis knees with a single-handed swing. The Jedi spun into a flourish, saber behind his back as he batted the Axe away with his body.

Tathra grasped the lower length of the Axe in his right hand, thrusting forward at the Jedis exposed chest as he landed on his feet. The Jedi would feel this pressure, he would try to deliver a blow to put some distance between them. He brought his saber low, using it as anchr to push himself away from the stabbing motion of the Long-Axe. He was inside Tathra's gaurd but there was still four feet between them, he dashed forward with a upward vertical strike for Tathra's throat.

As expected. In one motion, Tathra side-stepped and used that physical momentum the bring the Long-Axe back, cutting the Jedi in half. Like a simple calculus.

"Weak. Fleshlings."

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Onions
Post: 1
Tags - Xenomir | Zaerac Krex | Sarask Hiskt | Tathra Khaeus |

The teleport doubled his momentum, spinning around behind the Jedi as he swung for where the Primarch was moments before. As he turned, the end of the Staff slammed right into the Jedi's chest, throwing him to the ground. The Primarch's force barrier depleted as a rocket cracked along the lenght of his back, knocking him down to the ground on his stomach.

Drek'ma snarled, rising as the next rocket was launched from the weapon. But, the rocket never left its chamber; the Shaman made sure of that by disrupting the firing mechanism. It was simple, unhinging the mechanism's target locater and the projectile system. But, Azarak was careful not to cause any fault in the activation of the rocket; seconds later the rocket exploded - killing a dozen soldiers.

Another Jedi leapt at him; blade drawn and thrust down in a stabbing motion. Drek'ma waited, harnessing the force as suddenly every inch of him was displaced; teleporting behind the Jedi as his hand appeared in his spinal column, a twist of his dagger-lined fingers snapping it in-half. With a yank, a dash of blood squirted out over the Primarch's waist, his hand lathered in the thick gulps of blood as the Jedi fell.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - Three
TAGS - Primarch Drek'ma | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex | Sarask Hiskt | Bazh'Thu |

Another Jedi came from the left, Tathra's Axe was held in the right; leaving his left hand open. When the Jedi struck, she swung for his hand - he brought his gauntlet to the lightsaber, using his weight to redirect the blade further left and low. Putting pressure on the Jedi's guard, leaving her upper torso undefended.

Tathra realigned the Long-Axe, thrusting in a stabbing motion toward the torso of the Jedi almost immediately. Eyes widened, creating a panicked force barrier to protect herself that shattered on impact; throwing her back. Hard. Before he could capitalise, a large Jedi leapt between them - Tathra grinded to a halt, cursing in Draelvasier - sneering at the Jedi. He recognised the Besalisk, carrying a two staff-lightsabers. Four blades of yellow and blue battled against the glare of the fluorescent molten red vapour.

The Besalisk Jedi's sabers were massive compared to those of the other Jedi. But he was clearly much more agile than his stature implied. The Besalisk Jedi dashed forward, his physical form empowered by the force as the twirling double-blades met his Long-Axe. Tathra immediately back-stepped, pulling the lower-half of his Long-Axe backward. Tathra slashed downward and right, knocking the right double blade downward - in the same motion he activated his Compact Shield; exploding from his right Gauntlet and swinging close and right.

The massive Shield knocked the left double-blade from the Besalisks grasp, flying backward as the right was spun over Tathra's Axe by its second arm. Tathra rose the beard of the Axe; colliding with the descending saber. The molten vapour immediately began to burn the skin of his fingers, causing the Besalisk to yell out in pain. Out of the corner of his eye, Tathra spotted the Jedi he'd knocked down rising to her feet behind their clash, another Jedi rushing to her aid, a rodian. A mental note taken, his right arm thrusting out in an open palm toward the chest of the Besalisk - knocking him skidding through the sands. His second saber clamped in his grasp, calling the second double blade to him. His right handed grip would be weakened, he would use it momentarily.

 

[Xenomir]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - I
TAGS - Sarask Hiskt | Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir |

The descending curtain of ruin, death and decay was upon them the very moment they chose to opposite the truly noble and righteous law of might. Breathe caught on the surrounding scents of; fear, panic, death, iron, smoke and ash wafting through the atmosphere anyone could tell the weak were falling. The precise and instantaneous drop caught the now deceased defenders unaware, still there remained more. Xenomir was hearing the call of battle drums beating fiercely as he marched steadily towards the weakness of the galaxy. Aureate eyes spotting a group rapidly taking cover by some sort of makeshift barricade. Someone interesting was there... through the force he felt the presence of a challenge.

Volleys of red hot blaster gases sailed pasted the towering invader, of whom, returned steady precise spike shots from the one handed rifle. All flew true with only one target remaining. They had quickly thrown their ranged weapon at the projectile before jumping out of the way. His expression a soft smirk while lowering the rifle, his steps ever nearing the displaced Jedi. "Oh? One with some competency? Tell me Jedi, do you know what stands before you?" The tone, mocking in nature and yet resonated with utter confidence enough annoy the robed human just as their blue plasma-lit weapon sprung to life with a well-practiced stance. "Nothing more than a barbaric monster that shall be brought to justice this day."

"That's correct Jedi, your superior." As if on queue their encircling dance came to an end with a lightsaber series of swings heavily brought down back to back vertically. One would not expect such speed and agile due to his size, Xenomir was effortlessly side stepping the rudimentary attacks enough to still feel the heat of the blade pass before him. His two glowing orbs sternly gazed upon the warrior's disgusting face as a quick influx of the force pushed his physical capabilities in a burst like manner. This caught his opponent off guard as he stepped into the incoming horizontal swipe, swiftly engulfing the weapon held hand entirely.

Simultaneously his other arm crossed over the other into an X formation, Xenomir clenched the humans neck tightly. Smug satisfaction showing evident as eyes were locked with one another, "Despicable fool, know your place wretch." A sickening crunch of flesh and warping of metal could be heard. All too soon another snap followed before the body fell upon the dry ground defeated. "All too quickly do they fall when faced with true elites. Hmph, pathetic."

His attention was perked back up upon hearing an inbound rocket propelled missile coming his way, glancing back over his shoulder he spotted it. The aid of speed still flowing through him only allowed the Aeravalin to jump into a ducking roll to avoid the danger. The ensuing blast wave of heat and dust assaulted Xenomir pushing him into another roll rotations. This rapidly angered and overheated him greatly groaned a deep growl. Skidding to a stop & regaining his posture, the Zealot's golden orbs shined brightly. They came to rest upon the source of his great displeasure. "You. WIll. Regret. That." Leaping up and lunging forward with unmatched speed, the Draelvasier made way along a path to a short tower, glaive drawn.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - Four
TAGS - Primarch Drek'ma | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex | Sarask Hiskt |

Tathra moved quickly, his Compact Shield retracting as he unleashed a semi-circular wave of molten kinetic energy; curving through the air toward the two approaching Jedi. The small female Jedi dropped low, sliding under whilst the Rodian forward-flipped over the whirl of red energy. Following through the momentum of his swing, Tathra leapt a few metres forward; putting himself between the Besalisk and the smaller Jedi. The Rodian was protective of the wounded female, moving to engage before she could; blue saber clashing with the lower half of the Long-Axe as Tathra switched to a two-handed grasp, the Titan did not relent - using his double-handed grip to push aside the Rodians blade, pushing the Rodian back a few steps, long enough for Tathra to utilise the distance between the Besalisk and the others. Tathra continued on the flow of his momentum, bringing the beard down toward the female Jedi's blade, knocking it out of her hands.

Immediately, Tathra hopped backward and behind the female - releasing his right hand to grasp the upper torso of the Jedi; grasping the back of her neck, crushing it in his grasp before throwing her body at the Besalisk. Immediately, Tathra shifted his left-handed grip of the Long-Axe to just below its beard, swinging upward and releasing another red molten blast from the Axe; forcing the Rodian to dodge the blast; giving the Titan few more moments to entirely dismantle the Besalisk.

He moved to close the gap, when the Besalisk struck; Tathra focused on pushing the blades away, not allowing him to counterattack. Tathra's strength endured longer than his opponents; causing the Besalisk to overextend from the right. Tathra immediately swung upward, slashing up and taking his left eye. The Besalisk staggered backward, groaning in pain as half of his face melted away. The Titan did not relent, kicking the Besalisk to the ground as the Rodian came close; moving to stab Tathra through the back.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Onions
Post: 2
Tags - Tathra Khaeus | Primarch Drek'ma | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex |

Drek'ma lowered down, picking up the Staff he had momentarily lost. It acted as a conduit, life draining energy surging from the pearl-white catalyst of energy, an orb sat in the head of the Staff, pulsating as the streaks of white life draining energy found their initial targets; tearing into several soldiers; their veins and skeletons glowing white through their skin before falling to the ground, sullied and drained of life.

Drek'ma cackled, leaping into the air as a Rhivak under his direct control sped past him; landing on the creatures back. The Primarch created a cone of life draining energy, solely focusing on the task as the Rhivak kept him mobile.

The giant Rhivak galloped through the coliseum, its two pronged mandibles knocking every soldier down, out of its way or with broken bones trampled under its feet, crushed into red splatters. Drek'ma pulled at the telepathic reigns, commanding the beast to a halt as he directed its mandibles outward, charging a powerful blast of red energy as the Primarch leapt from its saddle, allowing the beast to release its blast into their enemies; melting a dozen soldiers into slabs of flesh and grime.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - Five
TAGS - Zaerac Krex | Xenomir | Primarch Drek'ma | Sarask Hiskt |

Even amongst all this commotion, Tathra could hear the feather weights steps coming from a mile away. He turned into a crouch, his left leg sliding through the sand as he activated his Compact Shield as the Rodian lunged, throwing the Rodian overhead and several metres away. Now facing the downed Besalisk, Tathra swung - embedding the beard in the Besalisks skull. Opaque eyes stared down the Rodian, demoralised and shocked by the loss of his comrades no doubt. The Draelvasier Chieftain's eyes grew wide, a short roar of pain escaping him as he fell to one knee; one of the Besalisks double blades spinning past him, a chunk of his right thigh destroyed. Pain, not an unusual feeling. But causing him to feel pain wasn't something his opponents often were capable of to any extent.

"Lucky hit. You won't land another."

Tathra rose, undeterred by the strike. The Rodian seemed in equal amounts demoralised and further determined. Tathra had no doubt in his mind that the blow struck had garnered some confidence for the Jedi. Up until now, none of them had managed to land a strike. But now? Now he knew it was at the very least possible. Tathra's goad would reaffirm that his confidence was misplaced, it was luck alone.

Tathra dashed side to side, drawing close. The Rodian matched his aggression, blades hacking and slashing at the shaft of the Axe - colliding as Tathra would halt his movement, taking a firm stance as the Jedi would slash downward with the single-blade, unable to overpower Tathra he brought the double-blade right in a slashing motion at Tathra's wrist, he relinquished his reversed right handed grip, twisting the Long-Axe to catch the lower blade of the lightsaber. With his free arm, Tathra thrust upward in a swinging arc; his fist slamming into the base of his own Axe, sending the Rodians double blade flying through the air along with one of his arms.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Onions
Post: 3
Tags - Tathra Khaeus | Sarask Hiskt | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir |

The force was craned down forcefully, ripped from the earth and pulled to Drek'ma, he slammed his staff into the ground - dozens of tendrils of lightning and draining energy chaining through two full squads of soldiers. The men screamed out in pain, terror and confusion. Drek'ma was unflinching as their bodies grew grey and withered. His wide gaping eyes seemed to see little or nothing of the devastation all that reached him was the end result. They, were dead. The weak had fallen - now children of Khaeus.

The Primarch could feel death dancing around the Chieftain, the absolute carnage he wrought with every step. It was.. beautiful. He did his best to imitate, in his own twisted way. A lightsaber wielding fiend approached from behind, darting at incredible speed toward the Primarch's back. However he moved with such haste that even if he were blind, Drek'ma would have undoubtedly sensed him. The anger, the fear, the sense of duty. It all made him savour the taste that much more. He pulled the energy of those he had killed back to himself, the conduit orb in his Staff swirling with power as he turned on his heel, releasing a singular powerful beam of force energy at the Jedi; eviscerating him entirely in a blinding light.

 

[Xenomir]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - II
TAGS - Sarask Hiskt | Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir |

Drawing frighteningly closer to the tower the occupants hurried themselves to fire another missile at the swift white giant coming for them. "Hurry hurry hurry before that thing gets here!" said one of the soldiers to the other with an extended hand, she held a panicked frustration aura about her. Her cohort momentarily fumbling to hand off the next rocket for the launcher was cursing under his breathe before giving over the ammunition, pulling up the standard issued blaster rifle sling at his side. The heavy artillery soldier efficiently reloaded the launcher and lifting it up once more, mentally recalling the enemies previous route and realigning herself to fire once more. "Where are you freak?"

As they both glanced feverishly around to spot the enemy, a loud thump could be heard from below them near the base of the tower. The riflemen peeking his head out to glance below only to be caught by a pole-arm having been preemptively thrown up rushing to meet him. The initial blow hurling and pinning the body by the chest into the ceiling with such a thunderous force. Shuck at such brutality, the remaining soldier lost herself for just a split-second before screaming as she ran over towards the glaives' pathway to blind fire down below. It was at this moment that Xenomir jumped up from the opposite side over the covered railing, briefing landing on said railing before kicking off hard enough to bend the reinforced steel. Propelling himself forwards he grabbed both his weapon and the now terrified soldier out from the tower as the rocket met its destination.

The resulting detonation having hit some sort of mini-generator resulting in a larger than normal discharge. "Feel the burn of your cowardice filthy scum!" Holding her below him as a makeshift shield from the debris and shrapnel flung their way what little hit him was ignored. Near the towers supports and foundation was stripped away leading towards the loud noise of heavy metal bending and warping under it's own weight. Skidding bloodily and violently to a stop, Xenomir picking himself up off the burnt, shattered and broken corpse. He had just enough time to caught glimpse of the tower falling atop an opening below with enemy reinforcement, effectively killing them and blockading the opening. Taking a moment to clean off the disgusting foreigners mess from himself as an idea struck him.

Picking up the filthy enemies weapon, his gaze caught a digital display showing a remaining round within. Gripping it tightly in one arm he looked over the battlefield to spot any available targets. Disappointed at the lack of high profile target, he settled for another group of infidels that had actually managed to slay a few of his weaker brethren. "How befitting to die from the very thing you cling to for protection, you trash." Focusing himself and the power rushing through his body, the Aeravalin launched the weapon in its entirety at the briefly celebratory group. Maintaining his focus but redirecting it and molding it into another form within himself as his hand gripped the red firearm at his side. A mere three meters above the ground the group stood, approached the launcher as it was pierced by four glowing pulsating spikes from Xenomirs Radesh Shredder.

Results were as expected once all the dust and debris cleared the way, not that he had time for such a thing. Holstering the dangerous weapon and flourishing the pole-arm back int both hands the Zealot made his way back into the fray. "Tell me, isn't about time you lot starting cowering in fear yet? If not, I think it's time we properly showed you the difference between our kind. Otherwise you lot might bore me to death!"

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Tags: Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir | Tathra Khaeus

Post: 2

Objective: Peel Shrek.

Shrekma launched forth with his lightsaber. The thing was deadly against her, most likely. She never particularly got hit by one before, but she knew it was hot. And she wasn’t suited for such a temperature. Somehow she thought it didn’t’ particularly matter. She rolled to the side, evading his direct lunge, drawing her leg around to sweep his closest leg off of the ground and swiped her arm down to strike him in the stomach, removing the air from his lungs and speeding his descent.

She drew back from his obvious counter-attack; she deliberately didn’t break any of his ribs. She’d rather he realised the fertility of fighting her first. Shrekma got up and waited for her to come to him. So she did. Moving her weapons into an “X”, she rushed forth toward him. He neatly side-stepped and aimed at her chest, but she lowered her weapons down to block the saber.

Kneeing him in the chest, she drew back once again.

“Coward.” He spat. “Will you continue to use cheap shots? You worthless cretins have no honour.”

“I give you chance. That’s honour enough.” She murmured back. She heard something. A footstep, muffled breathing. She drew back her head and opened her mouth, air rushing from her lungs out into the open as she screeched to the high heavens, forcing Shrekma to shield himself with the force as the others around him and they screamed in terror, dropping their weapons or freezing up on the spot.

It was getting a bit dicey for her, so she opted to simply cut her fun short. She launched a furious assault against the Jedi, forcing him back with each strike before, after a particularly vicious swipe even she was a little proud of, managing to send his arms careening off to his left. She moved her blade forth and decapitated the Jedi by sliding her blades on both sides of his neck and pulling. Removing the final threats around her, Sarask looked around for her next target.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Onions
Post: 4
Tags - Sarask Hiskt | Tathra Khaeus | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex |

The act seemingly drained the Primarch, leaning on his Staff with a exhale of the lungs. Yet only moments later did rejuvenation direct adrenaline to activate, the spurned life energy of those whom he had taken so much from now active as fertiliser for his power, their rotted souls energised him now.

A truly twisted experience for them. But a righteous and well deserved fate to him. The Primarch raised his Staff, a telepathic wave reverberating out to the beasts under his command. Rhivaks blasted the pillars, leaping from different sections of the coliseum as they tore apart enemy infantry.

Their larger Brumak kin were too big for this measly arena. The agility of the Rhivaks complemented their performance in this particular arena.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - Six
TAGS - Sarask Hiskt | Primarch Drek'ma | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex |

The Rodian cried out, his skin not cauterised by exploding with blisters and flame as Tathra grasped the ruined figure, raising him and slashing him into bits in his grasp. The kinetic impact split him into mulched pieces of meat. Tathra activated his shield, blocking a thrust - another Jedi. They threw themselves at them. Tathra pushed down with his Shield, exposing the human male as his Axe came crashing down; splitting him in half. They were as much cannon fodder as the rest.

The compact shield retracted into his gauntlet as Tathra moved back, a flood of Brutes joining his side as the troops and Jedi that remained moved to reinforce those whom he had just fought. The Brutes opened fire, littering the area with Spikers; dozens falling almost instantly. Tathra released another blast from his Axe, rapidly descending on those who ran.

It was simple calculus. Those who moved to avoid the wave of molten energy were cut down by the hail of spikes, those who did not were split into pieces - burnt alive by the molten energy. Tathra lead at the head of the Brute force, switching to the use of his Belt-Fed Launcher in his right hand; blasting the soldiers into pieces. Hail fire of Drones and Brutes made the defence of lightsabers almost impossible, those that seemed to remain began into a full retreat, those who remained gave little true resistance.

As soon as the fight came, it was finished for many. But they had indeed planned for as much, up above on the Coliseum walls; snipers guarded by Jedi had began to open fire with high-material heavy rifles.

"Drek'ma - Deliverance!" The Titan roared to the Primarch.

 

[Galak]

Post: One
Objective: Onions
Tags - Zaerac Krex | Tathra Khaeus | Primarch Drek'ma | Hrajlmak'Natok | Hraelga Nacht | Xenomir | Sarask Hiskt

Galak leapt from the Orkale, leading the Brutes of the 10th Regiment into battle alongside the Chieftain. The Brutes of the 10th rushed through the coliseum sands to their leader, standing alone amongst the Chaos, corpses of fallen Jedi dotting every which-direction around him. The power of their leader invigorated them, for every stride they doubled in ferocity as they reached his side.

As intended, the Brutes of the 10th fought alongside Tathra in vicious combat; wiping out its pathetic soldiers and Jedi forces in unison. Galak lead with his modified RAW, explosion spiker rounds turning the meatsack humans into scattered limbs and broken skulls. The Brute fired until his magazine was empty, replacing it as he continued to fire in the mindless slaughter.

However not so mindless after all. Above, snipers and Jedi opened fire from various levels of the Coliseum. When Tathra called to the Primarch, Galak knew the intent. He would take lead of the 10th Regiment on the ground whilst the Chieftain and Primarch no doubt dealt with the snipers nests dotted throughout the Coliseum.

All around them, Savage Drones had began to scale the walls, the entirety of the Coliseums interior being converged upon, stained with blood and blackened by the beasts ascent. Below, the forces of the humans may have tripled their own; but they were not soldiers. They were prey, meat for the grinder.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Onions
Post: 5
Tags - Tathra Khaeus | Sarask Hiskt | Galak | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex |

It was moments later that he heard the call of the Chieftain, allowing the force to swell within him - his unblinking eyes refocusing on the Titan. He imagined himself at his side, using the cosmic power to force that reality, teleporting to his side. He had been summoned, and would assist as so pleased his Creator.

Within the blink of a thought, both of them had been delivered to the top of the Coliseum, alongside the snipers and their guards of both Jedi and blaster wielding variety. The Primach raised his barrier, deflecting bolts of blaster fire as the grenades of the enemy troops once more exploded on their belts, tendrils of lightning extended out from his Staff like petrified leeches of life. Those affected screamed, if only for a short period.

Drek'ma spun his staff in a circular motion, using the kinetic energy to empower his barrier, turning into a swing; knocking down a Soldier as another fired its shotgun at him. The blast scorched his chest armour, but did little in the ways of actual harm. Grabbing the gun, the Shaman yanked back and loosened its grip of the weapon before throwing the weapon back into its face, knocking it to the ground.

Drek'ma raised his Staff, thrusting downward into the back of the Human. The second whom he had initially knocked down had rose to his knees, firing off his sidearm helplessly. Drek'ma moved into a half pirouette, slamming down the head of the Staff with such force that its spike riddled with man's neck with gashes, spurting out blood in great amounts as he fell limp.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

OBJECTIVE - Peel back the layers!
POST - Seven
TAGS - Primarch Drek'ma | Zaerac Krex | Xenomir | Sarask Hiskt | Galak |

Within a blink of his motion, the Primarch delivered them both to the upper-levels of the Coliseum. Tathra stood lurched like a predator about to pounce, Axe held outward in his left hand. The Primarch at his back. Tathra's face was full of vigour, enthusiasm. Here they stood, two giants among insects. Insects born of weakness and ignorance, a sad and pathetic life. One they perhaps did not deserve, perhaps they deserved more. But those among them that could've achieved such things had failed to do so.

That was not his fate, his was a duty to his own kind - to save them from the cancerous plague of weakness so flagrantly spread by these fleshlings. Tathra was the first to move, slamming the Axe into the ground; releasing a less powerful but disruptive wave of energy, stunning all of the enemies in their immediate surroundings. The exception, a Jedi was able to halt the wave from hitting him and his men using the force.

Tathra dashed forward, capitalising on the advantage presented - cutting done dozens immediately, swerving immediately into another strike; downward vertical and cutting down three more including one of the Snipers. He caught the end of the Axe, its beard slicing through the edge of his visor - taking the left side of his head, flung down to devolve into a splatter on the Coliseum floor.

Tathra switched into a hanging guard on his right side, catching the strike of the Lightsaber against his Axe.

 

[Kad]

Post: One
Objective: Onions
Tags - Myself, Primarch Drek'ma | Galak | Xenomir | @Myself again | Zaerac Krex | Sarask Hiskt |

The Zealot and his cohorts were deployed throughout the various levels of the Coliseum, however he was for once - alone. The other Elites had been dropped off at other sections of the city. One Zealot was enough. Gredak ran with Spiker and Kukri in hand, hacking and slashing through dozens. His objective - clear out the Snipers.

Turning a corner, Gredak found himself flung to the ground by a Wookie, ragdolling across the ground; confused and battered, Gredak looked up as his Spiker was kicked from his hand. The wookie levied him into the air before throwing him beyond the railing to fall to his death. Gredak dug his dagger-like hands into the pillar alongside his Kukri, leveraging himself and swinging back into the room.

He kicked outward, foot slamming into the wookies jaw. His bowcaster blasting a solid hole in the sandstone.

 

[Galak]

Post: Two
Objective: Onions
Tags - Tathra Khaeus | Kad | Sarask Hiskt | Hraelga Nacht | Hrajlmak'Natok | Xenomir | Zaerac Krex |

The battle continued in the sand. Galak grasped the face of one soldier, tearing off a section of its face as he thrust his opposite shoulder into the upper torso, flinging the body as he picked up his Bryn Shot, firing off two shots, blasting away two squads of soldiers. A spearing pain in his back, a dagger perhaps?

Galak thrust his shoulder back, finding no collision as he side-stepped away and swung his Brute Shot behind him. Slicing a sword wielding solder in half with his weapon. Another ran at him with a spear, stopping a few steps away and throwing it toward Galak. The Brute ducked low and sliced upward with the Bryn Shot's bayonette, bisecting the man and sending either part of him into the sands, blood squirting out from the opened flesh.

A squad of Brutes from the 10th saddled up alongside Galak on their Skags, each carried Glaives; cutting down several dozens of soldiers each as cavalry forces. Galak directed them towards the outer ends of the Coliseum.

"Encircle them! Flush them into the center!"