Dominion Doom of a Dynasty - BotM Dominion of Tiantang

[Rebirth]

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Years ago, the isolated world of Tiantang had been poised to become a regional power. Armed with a strong cultural identity and a popular will to forge their planet a place in the galaxy, its people joined together in the first Jin Empire and reached out to the stars. But the Jin were soon crippled by administrative setbacks and squabbling within the palace, a problem that the successor Tianese Empire proved unable to solve. When the great Eternal Horde arose on the plains, throwing off their control, they could do little to resist. The potential spacefaring potentate never materialized, consumed instead with local unrest.

Though forgotten by much of the galaxy, the planet did not escape the ravenous gaze of the Maw. Having crushed every local threat and conquered most of the settled worlds of its western frontier, the Brotherhood turned its vile armies eastward, toward the rich planets of Chiss space. Before they could fall upon those worlds, however, they needed a staging ground, a place to consolidate their forces for invasion. And so the Dark Voice decreed that the last strip of territory between the Maw and the Chiss should be consumed at last, and the invasion of Tiantang was authorized. It would be little more than a stepping stone to greater victories.

When Tiantang falls, its surrounding colony worlds will not be far behind. The Maw will end the Jin dynasties once and for all.

The Imperial Palace
Objective One
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Although his power is much diminished since the rise of the Eternal Horde shattered his control over the planet, the Emperor still controls Tiantang's official military, making him a priority target to cripple the planet's defenses. More importantly, he is the center of their government and of their honor-based culture. His brutal death, along with the destruction of any potential successors, will break the will of the Tianese people to resist us.

Beware the defenses of the Imperial Palace, however. The most elite of the Emperor's legions will defend it to their last breath, and its hallways are filled with mysterious traps and potent defenses. The Emperor himself should not be underestimated. He comes from a long line of keun-yong hunters, and his great hall is filled with the giant skeletons of the beasts. He has trained since birth in the ways of war, and will not be easily slain.

Kagan-Jin Encampments
Objective Two
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The minority Kagan-Jin culture are riders, hunters, and marauders who roam the southern plains. Several years ago they rose up against the Tianese Emperor, claiming huge swaths of Tiantang for their own. In them, the marauders of the Brotherhood see kindred spirits, wild and untamed. If they can be convinced to join the ranks of the Brotherhood, their skill at arms and powerful mounts can be used to take not only Tiantang, but a hundred worlds more.

Impress the Kagan-Jin and master the Eternal Horde. Only then can we command their allegiance.

Fangshi-Da Temple
Objective Three​

Tiantang is home to a Force-using sect known as the Fangshi Order. The monks are pacifists, believers in balance and harmony, though they are skilled with the Force and defensive martial arts. Ensure that these skills will not save them. Destroy the Order, pillage their temple, and leave no trace of blasphemy standing. It is said that, at the temple's heart, an ancient starship used by the Jin's ancestors is kept safe. If it is captured, we will have seized the ancient heart of Jin culture.

With their monks slain and their heritage in our hands, the Tianese will have no choice but to bow to us.

Objective Four
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Contribute to the fall of Tiantang in any way you see fit, or attempt to oppose the invasion.

The Messenger | Avatar of Death | Gren Blidh | Cedric Grayson | Marlon Sularen | Ssloak-Goa | Khan Daedelon | Lirka Ka | Derix Tirall | Maestus | Kascalion Giedfield | Kyrel Ren | Alars Keto | Darth Solipsis | TK-818 | Tegan Starfall | Zachariel Steelblood | Dagon Kaze | Vora Kaar | Anabasa​

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Rebirth | TBA​

A new planet to add to the list of conquests. Another world to subjugate and enslave. More leaders to break and torture. Truly a blessing for those inclined to such matters. And Zachariel was very inclined to breaking the will of the people, and enjoying days of torture with worthy leaders. This was made all the better by the fact that the Emperor of this planet was supposedly a great warrior. Having decided to test that, and simultaneously break the will of the people, Zachariel had chosen to assassinate the Emperor, along with a myriad of other individuals seeking glory.

They had come to Tiantang prior to the official invasion, and had taken scope of the palace. Roaming around the land, they had learned well what they could, and planned for the inevitable assault. Now the true invasion drew near, and Zachariel was as prepared as he could be. Not that it mattered to him if the cattle with him died, but they should serve a purpose before that. Thus, Zachariel took stock of their assault vector one last time. He was on a hilltop not too far from the palace. One shrouded in trees, but still afforded a good outlook on their target.

The side they would be assaulting had some larger windows, ones that would allow them to break in and then spread out. From there, they'd rampage around the palace, slaughtering any in their way. Of course resistance would be mounted, but it didn't matter, as it would spread them out. And as the marauders rampaged about the palace, Zachariel and those who came with him, would target the Emperor and the throne room directly. It would be a glorious slaughter, and if tales of the Emperor weren't exaggerated, then it would be a worthy fight as well.

Raising his head as Brotherhood ships broke the atmosphere with screams of death, Zachariel chuckled darkly. Rising to his feet, he pulled his sword out of his sheath. Around him the rest gathered for the attack, their bloodthirstiness was palpable, even without the Force. Raising his sword, Zachariel bellowed out to them.
"Forward, to the slaughter! Kill them all!"

With that warcry issued, Zachariel sprung into motion, the others following. He rushed down the hill and closed the gap to the palace quickly. Cries of alarm, and shouts to man battle stations issued up from the defenders. It simply made Zachariel laugh madly, eyes ablaze with bloodlust. Blaster shots began shooting out towards them, even as other soldiers prepared melee weapons. Zachariel himself let out another roar, even as he finally smashed through the defenses and into the defenders behind, allowing the slaughter to begin.
"Kill, maim, burn!"

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: Open

The Fangshi-Da Temple was the most serene place on a planet whose dominant culture was built on the ideal of harmony. The monastery was tall and elegant, built of hand-carved wooden beams, lacquered paper walls, and sloped roof tiles of baked clay. Everything was perfectly in balance. The structure was perfectly level and perfectly symmetrical, each tower and each garden built in parallel on the other side of the main building. Even the trees had been carefully guided and trimmed to match each other, bending at the exact same angles but in opposite directions.

If you held a mirror up to one side, it would show the reality on the other.

Around the temple grounds, between the rolling hills and babbling brooks that cut their way through the peaceful Tianese countryside, the monks carefully arranged rock gardens into symbols of balance and tranquility. Such work took weeks to attain perfection, but that was nothing to the years-long work to arrange the trees and hedges, much less the centuries-long work of preserving the planet's history and culture in beautifully-illustrated paper scrolls within the monastery's library.

It was priceless, beautiful, irreplaceable. And it was about to burn.

The Mongrel led the charge up the path to the temple, dark exultations and fierce war cries on his lips - and the lips of every one of the teeming mass of marauders behind him. They brandished a terrifying array of weapons, many of them never before seen on this isolated planet. The locals would learn to fear them soon enough. As the cacophony of bloodlust echoed up the valley, the novice monks tending the gardens looked up in alarm, their brightly-dyed robes crinkling as they straightened to see what was going on.

Not all of them fled fast enough. The marauders fell on them like iron rain, rending them apart, staining rich saffron yellow with mortal crimson. The Mongrel blew away one with his scattergun as soon as he reached the base of the hill, then pivoted and blew out of the knees of another as he turned to flee. Grinning savagely, he stomped on the fallen monk's neck as he stalked toward the edge of the gardens, ending the poor fool's suffering. The rest of the novices were already fleeing around the corner. The Mongrel stalked after them.

By the time he reached the edge of the walled gardens, the huge wooden gate had been closed and barred. It was ornately carved in swirling patterns, lacquered and colored so that its surface resembled intertwined dragons. The Mongrel threw his full weight against it, and found that it would not budge. It had been well built. The howling pack of marauders behind him, finishing with dispatching the slower monks, crowded in to smash against the gate as well, but it still held firm. The Mongrel shook his head and grinned.

It wouldn't stop them for long.

Reaching into his satchel and waving the others back, the slave-soldier produced an ugly mess of wires and detonite: a handmade explosive charge, carefully shaped to blow a door inward. It wouldn't take the whole gate off its mighty hinges, but it would certainly blast a good two-meter hole into the wood. Stepping back, he took cover behind an ornamental hedge and squeezed the detonator. In a flash, the hand-crafted door (centuries old) was smashed right through the center, and the dark hordes of the Brotherhood poured in.

The Mongrel charged among them, through the flames and splinters, scattergun at the ready. A savage smile crept across his face again as he took in the cries of terror and the discharge of weapons. Though his body was ever more scarred, his skin a patchwork of burns and gashes, his bones broken and re-knitted too many times, he had survived and recovered from his near death on Mar'Zambul. He could again lead the pack, and he would lead them to glory. "Leave none alive! The Maw hungers!"

 

[Tu'teggacha]

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Location: Kagan-Jin Camp, Central Tent
Tags: Open

The great warcamp of the Eternal Horde sprawled out across the plains, hundreds of sturdy yurts surrounded by grazing beasts of burden. The men and women who walked between them were equally sturdy, a collection of rugged tribespeople united by a common cause: hatred of outside control. This was a fiercely independent people, determined to preserve their way of life despite the ambitions and armies of the Tianese emperor. By their strength and determination, they had shattered his once complete control over Tiantang.

The Brotherhood could use that strength... but first, the tribes would have to learn to bow to them.

Tu'teggacha stepped out of a ramshackle Brotherhood shuttle, surrounded by an honor guard of his fiercest slave-soldiers. The outsiders, with their strange weapons and clothing, drew curious stares from the Kagan-Jin... and more than a few hostile looks, with hands falling to weapons just in case. But the Brotherhood had made entreaties to the Great Khaan, and they had been granted an audience. To slay them now, no matter how bizarre and threatening they might be, would defile the Khaan's hospitality. That offense would merit death.

The taskmaster and his entourage approached the greatest of the yurts, its carved wooden poles topped with aurodium caps in the shape of roaring beast heads. Within, shrouded by looted Tianese silks, sat the mighty Ogedei Khaan, the new ruler of the Kagan-Jin. It was his predecessor, the legendary Temujin Khaan, who had broken the Tianese Empire's full control of their own planet. He had ended the Mingzhi Dynasty by killing the emperor and his son, then taken the emperor's daughter as his concubine. He would forever be the Greatest Khaan.

Ogedei, by comparison, was relatively young and untested. He had yet to follow up his predecessor's great deeds with anything beyond resisting the power of the new Tianese dynasty, though he had done that ably. Tu'teggacha wriggled his facial tendrils as he considered the situation, tasting the air and sensing the currents of emotion that swirled through the camp. The young Khaan might be easily swayed by promises of glory, a way to live up to the great Temujin, but he would also be wary of outsiders. Convincing him would be difficult, if it was possible at all.

Of course, the Brotherhood had the numbers to simply press the Kagan-Jin into service if necessary... but this attempt at diplomatic manipulation was far more interesting to the taskmaster. It was not unlike the methods he used to break and re-train his slave-soldiers, only he could not use direct physical torture to aid him. Certainly it would work in the Maw's favor that they were even now dismantling the last of the hated Tianese Empire, which had managed to limp on with a new royal family after Temujin's conquest, but more would be required.

Tendrils twitching in anticipation, Tu'teggacha prepared to enter the yurt and face the Khaan.

 

[TK-818]

Objective 3: Pillage the Monastery
Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: The Mongrel


The Fangshi-Da Temple was an affront to the Shadow, a bastion of serenity and peace that stood in opposition to the rising tide of darkness spreading across the Unknown Regions. This place of worship, this temple of tolerance, it was enough to make the dark warrior gag. His enclave of onyx clad force warriors came to this world to snuff out the light, end the illusion of peace, and recover any knowledge they may have gleaned about the nature of the Force for better hands.

While the bulk of the Brotherhood's forces were enroute to assault the Imperial Family and their holdings, Sinh was dispatched to ensure The Mongrel 's raid on the temple was a devastating success. He would ensure the proper claims were made and any rogue force users would be put down by his blade. The silent warrior saw opportunity here, a chance to further his own abilities in the Dark Side of the Force and gauge the loyalty of The Mongrel and the forces he commanded among Zachariel Steelblood 's Bloodsworn.

The Knights of Ren were on the move, utilizing cloak-and-dagger power plays to accumulate as much support as they could conjure in favor of the rising Kyrel Ren . Their master had ambitions, he had plans for the Brotherhood, all that stood in his way was a decrepit old man steeped too far in the Dark Side of the Force and his band of cultist followers. If they could sway enough, they could prevent civil war among the tribes when the time came, the Heathen Priests would bow to a new ruler, a new prophet.

The Mongrel led the charge up the hill, the horde of ravenous marauders rose behind him like an unholy flood ready to wash over the temple and carve a bloody swath in it's wake. Sinh stood near the Mongrel as he led the charge, the onyx warrior readied his vibro-halberd as they charged toward the base of the hill. Those who could not flee were cut down, carnage came upon the novices of the temple without warning, mercy was nonexistent. Blood was the only currency the Maw desired, the only words they wanted to hear was the screams of the monks as they fell before their blades and ferocious shots burrowing into their flesh.

With a savage swing of his weapon, one of the poor Tianese holy men was sent crashing down, his blade rose and with another swing of his weapon the head was sent rolling along the grounds. The Knight of Ren growled under his breath, his vision focused as he pursued the fleeing innocents. By the time he had reached the wooden gate it had long been closed and barred, the Mongrel attempting to bulge it open as he approached. The crowd hissed and roared, howling for more blood as the Mongrel reached into his satchel and drew out what appeared to be homemade detonite. He hissed and stepped back, knowing what was to happen next.

The explosion rocked the grounds, shaking the foundation of the garden and more than likely the defender's resolve. Chunks of woods and iron debris rained down in splinters of chaos as the warbands charged in. Flames illuminated his dark form as the Knight of Ren entered alongside the bloodthirsty horde, he swung his weapon throwing blood droplets against the ground and tipped his Atrisian cap. The Maw would be fed today.

 

[Alars Keto]

The bloodthirsty battlecry of the dreaded Zachariel Steelblood reverberated like a dark chorus of screams in the Force, Kryll knew not what was the cause of such unholy chills and shrieks but he had felt it nonetheless. Gripping the handle of a nearby brace within the flying metal box they called a transport, Kryll groaned in agony for a few moments as he felt the full blunt of the psychic wave against his temple. The strange sensations were growing more common, in the past he would use liquor and drugs to try and drown out the noises, the feeling that shocked him to the core. That time had long passed, nothing could stop the tidal wave of sensitivity he was feeling, he would have to adapt or fall behind.

The transport narrowly skid across the ground with brutal force, skipping across the rock and earth as it pummeled into the dirt. Massive streaks of moved earth and torn apart terrain followed in the vessel's wake as it came to a complete halt. Smoke and steam alike rolled off the vessel as the large durasteel plated loading bay door dropped violently to the ground with a resounding thud. It was only a second later when the dropship revealed the hive waiting inside as the insatiable horde poured forth onto the landscape of Tiantang, they came for blood, they came for the head of an emperor.

Kryll walked out of the vessel as the sea of marauders parted around him, cracking his neck and adjusting his back after the rough landing the marauder scowled as he scanned the horizon. He could see the warparties led by the Bloodsworn dead ahead, without a moment of hesitation he drew his Atrisian warblade and joined them, rushing to the frontlines. By the time the Tiantang realized the slaughter that was to come, the forces of the Brotherhood had already began closing in on their locations.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Rebirth | Alars Keto​

They smashed into the defenders line with the force of an avalanche, striking at any defender in range. Roars of hatred and cries for blood rang out from the coming horde, even as mad laughter swept over the defenders. Zachariel himself had crashed through a fortified wall and into a squad of soldiers. Immediately he went to the slaughter, cutting into them with reckless abandon. One hand was a blur of endless cuts, the other held his heavy blaster and was shooting at any outside the range of his blade.

He roared with unholy laughter, even as the marauders and he slaughtered those outside the palace's walls. The shuttle bearing Kryll and more marauders came crashing down not too far behind their lines, and they joined the frey as well. With the addition of so many more marauders, the defenders swiftly fell before their onslaught. Around the palace more sounds of conflict could be heard, evidence of more shuttles joining the frey, and more marauders coming to the slaughter. Smiling at that, Zachariel turned towards the ornate windows they'd use for entry.

Motioning towards it with his sword, several marauders came forward with explosive charges. Though the windows were ornate, they were also heavily armored as befitting of a palace. But they were nothing compared to the explosives exploding at that very second. The explosion was beautiful, and carved a massive hole into the ornate window. Said hole was large enough for the horde to swarm through, and it opened the palace up to the Brotherhood.

Blasterfire began to pour into the opening from within, evidence of the guards doing their duty. They knew this was the best place to hold the horde back. As such, they were spread throughout the dining hall directly behind the broken window. Situated on several stories, they had some heavy weapons, but far more often normal blaster rifles to fire into whoever entered. On the ground floor there were more shooters, but also a concentration of knights, wearing ornate armor and wielding deadly blades. Already they had them ready, simply waiting for the change to charge, or simply hold the line.

Completely ignoring the incoming fire, Zachariel strode through the opening created. He raised his blaster even as concentrated fire began to pour down on him. Firing away, he shot down several defenders, even as the horde of marauders rushed through the gap. Several of their number had grabbed human bodies as shields, others still used slabs of metal that had been blown away. But many more simply charged in without a plan, simply bellowing prayers to the Maw and hoping for the best.

Zachariel ignored the masses however, instead marching towards the knights. A bloodthirsty smile was on Zachariels face, even as his presence in the Force echoed with thoughts of bloodshed and death. Occasionally he fired a shot at the defenders, but otherwise, his attention was wholly on the twenty odd knights arranged ahead of him. They would be a challenge, and that meant their skulls would be worthy of joining his collection.

 

[Maestus]

Maestus was silent for the time being. She marched with The Mongrel and TK-818 towards the once holy temple. Give the Maw 5 minutes and there wouldn't be anything holy left. She was not out front, leading the charge this time. No, she was in the midst or the horde. She felt the bloodlust, the energy, the raw power present around her. Behind her marched her 40 Chosen.

As the door was blasted open, she waited for the score of marauders to fight over who was getting the first kill once they were through the door. Surely, she would get her share of kills today. But that was not what interested her. She was after knowledge. The world inhabitants were strong in the Force, and that meant they had knowledge and information Maestus wanted.

As one would be hero monk came at her, she lifted a hand and shot lightning at him. He fried where he stood. In screams of agony. That little display was enough to warn the other monks to not trifle with her.

Once within the temple proper, she would stop and observe the layout. Looking for rooms, halls. She was insanely curious if the monks utilized droids. She turned to the Commander of her Chosen.

Search the temple and the entire area. Any droids, collect them. Memory banks intact.

Not waiting for acknowledgement, she turned and began making her way down a dimply lit hallway. Two monks rushed at her from the darkness. One lashed out with Force Push, knocking her back and to the ground. Her head cracked on the ground, hard, making her see stars for a second or two.

She lashed out with Force Repulse. She was fueled with rage now, having been humiliated by a lowly monk. Whats more, she had been caught off guard. Unacceptable. The two monks were bashed against the walls, and crumpled into nonmoving heaps on the floor.

Onward into the darkness she went.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: TK-818 | Maestus

Beyond the gate, the walled gardens of the Fangshi-Da Temple opened up before them. Serene paths wound their way through carefully-tended rock gardens, their beautiful spiral patterns radiating out from tranquil streams that ran from fountains built into the temple walls. The plants that grew along the banks of each creek, each carefully kept to a perfectly balanced place between the pebble patterns, were each hundreds of years old. The gardens represented literal centuries of effort, all guided by the design of each successive Grand Master.

The Brotherhood swept over them like a tide of ruin, burning and tearing down all that they encountered. Most of the monks had already fallen back, called into the monastery proper by the sound of the massive warning gongs now ringing out across the temple, so the marauders vented their fury on every shrine, tree, and statue they found along their way. The Mongrel, for his part, wasn't particularly interested in such petty destruction; it was an unworthy offering. They had come here to eliminate the monks and take the Grand Master's head.

Nothing less would satisfy the Dark Voice.

Soon the horde streamed through the winding gardens and reached the walls of the temple itself. Maestus and her Chosen led the way, breaching the ornately-lacquered screen doors and stepping inside. A few monks were waiting to resist her, trying to force her back with the energy they called The Way. For a moment, it looked like they might even succeed; The Mongrel rounded the corner just in time to see one of them send her sprawling with his magic, slamming her head into the ground. But she rose, and her vengeance was terrible to behold.

The Mongrel wasn't sure what to make of her command to secure any droids in the temple; it seemed that Maestus always had some ulterior motive, a plan to increase her power or knowledge. But such schemes were, he supposed, to be expected. They were how the Warlords remained so strong, able to command the ravening hordes of the Maw. It was not The Mongrel's place to understand their ways, or even to question them. And so, while the Chosen began their hunt for the knowledge of the Fangshi monks, the Bloodsworn turned to the temple apex.

The Mongrel was glad to have TK-818 along with him. By all reports, the Grand Master was an incredibly skilled practitioner of what the Jin called "The Way", another face of the same kind of magic that the Jedi, Sith, and Ren used. Although he had fought Jedi before, The Mongrel did not relish the idea of facing a true master; magic still confused and frightened him, for it was almost impossible for someone without magic of their own to counter it. But with one of the mighty Ren to accompany them, even the Grand Master would surely fall before the Maw.

"Onward," The Mongrel hissed, "to the temple summit!" They would find their target, defended by the greatest warriors among the monks, at the very top of the monastery, in the ornate meditation chambers. The marauder trusted that Sinh would handle any of the warrior-monks who lashed out with their magic to stop them along the way. He rushed up the steps, scattergun in hand, opening fire at anyone he saw. The bodies of yellow-robed monks tumbled down the stairs past him, torn open by his flechette rounds. He grinned at the carnage.

But then, a pair of monks stepped out from a nearby landing. One deftly stuck out a leg, tripping him in an elegant sweep. His scattergun flew from his hands as he went down, falling end over end back the way he had come. The Mongrel snarled and reached for a knife, but the second monk stepped in, moving his hands in some mystical pattern. Suddenly The Mongrel felt an invisible hand grasping him by the throat. He gasped and choked, clawing at his neck, but there was nothing to dislodge. The invisible hand slammed him into a nearby wall, driving the air from his lungs. He felt himself beginning to lose consciousness.

They were using their magic on him! He could only pray that Sinh could help. He had no defense against these bizarre mystic powers...

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Kagan-Jin Camp, Central Tent
Tags: Open

Tu'teggacha slowly ascended the ramp leading to the great central yurt, mentally preparing himself for the difficult negotiations to come. The carpets lining the way to the Great Khaan's tent had been looted from the Imperial Palace, their rich colors and delicate weaving beginning to break down under the weight of nomad boots. Aurodium ornaments seized from the royal treasury hung on cords of twisted sinew from the roof of the tent, a testament to the power of the Kagan-Jin... and to the might of their old conquests. Temujin's conquests.

Temujin's legacy was secure, but Ogedei's was uncertain. That was what the Maw would play on.

The taskmaster and his honor guard emerged, blinking, into the low lights of the central yurt. Strings of glo-rods dimly illuminated the edges of the space, casting the elite warriors of the Khaan in shadow... but showing enough that all visitors knew they were there, ready to avenge any insult to their great leader with immediate violence. But the high platform at the far end of the tent was another story. There was the throne of Ogedei Khaan, cast from the melted-down treasures of the conquered Mingzhi Dynasty, glittering under bright fusion lanterns.

Tu'teggacha hobbled forward, propelled on knobby little legs, and bowed before the Khaan. Ogedei was tall, broad, and powerful, with a piercing gaze and a sneer of cold command upon his face. But the taskmaster could see the beginnings of fat creeping into his muscular form; this was a warrior who had been at peace for too long, glutted on the spoils of his predecessor's conquests. Ogedei himself would probably recognize it, and if he did not, his lieutenants would. He needed a conquest of his own, or his people would begin to think him weak and unworthy.

If he became like the Jin royalty, content to live in luxury, the Kagan-Jin would reject his control.

"Great Khaan," Tu'teggacha began, "I bring you greetings in the name of the Maw."

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Fang-Shi Temple Grounds
Objective: 2
Allies: The Mongrel TK-818 Maestus


Kyrel marched upon the monastery the smell of death was heavy upon the air. As many of the Maw forces, or what you could say was only a chosen few. The Knights of Ren among them. The Master of Ren strode forth behind them. Unimpressed and what would some say displeased. The Master of Ren had long ambitious plans for the future. For now he had only played the part of the servant, the blunt instrument wielded by the Heathen Priests. But soon that would all change with Kyrel soon taking what he wanted all his life. Freedom, and Power most of all. Such things were within his grasp. Yet here he was, his talents being wasted on what? Pacifist monks hardly worth his time. If anything it was still something to burn for him. Even if he had to wipe out such an Order he would

One of the Monks sank to his knees, pleading for his life. There was only one absolute within the Maw. Either convert or die, but in Kyrel's case. He didn't feel in a rather forgiving mood nor feel like converting such a waste of trash that seemed to provide little if any use. Perhaps he was just looking for an excuse just to anhiliate a group out, rather than convert anyone this time. For he would save such advances for yet another time. For now, unbridled rage had been apart of every step along his path. Even as he made his way to the begging priest. The man started to cry, and Kyrel couldn't stomach the sight of such a pathetic man. Instead a crackled hiss leaped forth from his lightsaber. A bright crimson red reached out and with one swift motion separated his head from his body. Standing over him as the sniveling man's life was ended when Kyrel deemed it unworthy of his presence.

"Where is your God now? Nowhere to be seen for I am the harbinger of death, and I demand your lives." He said the added synthetic baritone of his Helm. Only made his declaration all that more sinister. As after he spoke. He turned into a rage. The fangshi monks seemed powerless to hide from Kyrel's rage. A rage that was a blazing inferno. Despite cries and begs for mercy, they fell on deaf ears. Even so Kyrel would grace them with none. As his first opening moves into the fray was wrought with carnage. As the monster started to cut a path of wanton slaughter. Hacking off limbs, heads, bisecting any monk that came across his path. Those that were in his vicinity could feel the unholy anger rolling off of him in waves. Kyrel himself slowly moving deeper on the grounds, and if any monk came across his path, they would say a final prayer before they met their executioner.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Rebirth | Alars Keto​

On one arm the knights hefted a shield, in the other they carried a sword. Though appearing as uniform as the regular soldier, it was clear they were far more skilled. From the way they held their ornate weapons, to the ornate armor, and their general livery. Giving a command over an unknown frequency, the leader of these knights raised a hand. Immediately all fire blasting at Zachariel shifted to the horde around or behind him. They had realized quickly they couldn't hurt him with mere blaster fire, so the knights hoped they could do what no one else had. With the leaders hand raised, the knights readied themselves, holding their shields before them. Their swords were loose in their hands, always in the dominant one, whether left or right.

Zachariel himself had his sword in his right hand, having holstered his pistol during the walk. Around him the marauders were taking cover and firing upon the defenders, except for the knights. They had flipped tables, thrown grenades, and generally done their best to push in. They would support their warlord and earn glory, or they would die trying. Chuckling quietly, Zachariel brought his sword up before his eyes, saluting the knights. Only the leader responded, the rest of the knights spreading out into a semi circle.

Smiling, Zachariel dropped his sword to his side and charged. The knights counter charged, moving to encircle Zachariel as best they could. With a crash, Zachariel slammed into the shields of the knights directly before him. In doing so, he pushed them back, and watched uncaring as others circled behind him. Laughing, he struck out at the knights, seeking the opening in one knights guards. Instead of gutting the knight, another instead blocked the strike with their shield, grunting under the force of the attack. Sneering, Zachariel struck again and again, dodging back and forth, striking where the opportunity presented itself.

Despite this, there were twenty knights and only one of him, so they could spread the brunt out across them all, while he took all their strikes. That said, he was fast, faster than they were. Thus, he dodged most of their attacks, and those that did hit were glancing at best. His own strikes were breaking down their shields slowly, and he was madly laughing the entire time, enjoying this far too much. With another chuckle, Zachariel spun about and suddenly pierced through the guard of a knight, stabbing another in the face.

The sudden death of one of their own shocked them, as it was incredibly rare, but they still kept fighting. In Zachariel's eyes, this was excellent. Spinning about their retaliatory strikes, Zachariel kept up his own attacks.
"Come then knights, fight and die!"

 

[Alars Keto]

The line of defenders and attackers smashed together with devastating force, the Maw swept through the defenders like a tidal wave of violence raining down on them. They carved a bloody swath through the chaos, hacking, blasting, and burning anything that dared defy the chosen vessels of the Avatar of War as they enacted the holy duty of purging the vile inhabitants from their pestilent nest of complacency. It made Kryll sick to see the weakness of their defenders, so long at peace with the Kagan-Jin whom long ago held their civilization by the throat and conquered the vast lands of Tiantang as their own. Peace had made both their civilizations vulnerable, peace as the great texts said was a lie.

Tempered in the fires of hatred, cast into the torture pens of despair, and finally molded by the sickening tendrils of Tu'teggacha , the Maw horde vastly outclassed the Emperor's subjects whom knew no evil like what had been unleashed upon them this day. The dreaded warlord Zachariel Steelblood roared out and met their greatest defenders head on with little to slow his unstoppable rampage as he crashed through the nearest fortified wall into a formation of enemy units. Maiming, thrashing, and killing, the Dark Warlord proved to his flock how meaningless life was in his hands and how easily he could take it all away.

Kryll fired his offhand blaster into the nearest enemy as his opponent rushed him, two bolts crashed into the attacker's chest sending him crashing down into the ground as another moved in to take advantage. Kryll swung at the unsuspecting defender with his Atrisian Warblade as the filament edge roared to life, red plasma hugging along the edge as it carved through the neck of the oncoming Tianese warrior savagely. A clean cut, the head rolled off his shoulders as the Marauder Lieutenant continued onward with no second thought to his death. The weak deserved to die.

Eyes snapped forward, an explosion rocked the landscape around them all with fierce intensity as the warband of Zachariel Steelblood blew open their own entry into the palace. A massive hole remained once the smoke cleared, chunks of stone and ornate glass blown in each adjacent direction. The horde swarmed in, making their way into the palace with haste.

Kryll followed the scent of blood and sulfur as red light illuminated the entryway created by the Brotherhood. Flashes of blaster fire and screams of pain echoed out from within as the marauder approached, pushing his way to try to get to the forefront of the battle. As he finally clawed his way inside he witnessed Zachariel Steelblood combat what appeared to be almost knights of some form, combatants wielding shields in defense against the might of the warlord. Kryll entered the fray gleefully, shouting dark half-prayers to whoever was listening as he swung his blade against the Knight's shield and fired his blaster as it rammed against his enemy's abdomen repeatedly.

Crying out a loud howl, he roared off as his blade severed the enemy's head.

They were beginning to fall into doubt, the enemy was beginning to FEAR them.

 

[TK-818]

Objective 3: Pillage the Monastery
Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: The Mongrel


The Mongrel led them onward, they marched for the temple summit as the horde of warriors washed over the grounds of the holy site akin to a plague, a tidal wave of blood and corpses left in their wake. His blade crashed into the corporeal form of another as it lifted the fellow off of the ground into the air. The savage Knight of Ren moved from foe to foe quickly, delving into his hatred and contempt for their minor existence. The Shadow poured over him, empowering his body as he thrashed, and maimed any who caught his eye. The servants of light needed to be destroyed, all enemies of the Shadow would be brought to ruin.

He followed behind The Mongrel closely, he caught a brief glimpse of Maestus , the Sith Warlord rushing out to carve her own path through the defenders and turned to witness the next obstacle step out before them. The Mongrel went down, tripped by one of two enemy monks as the other rushed in quick order to prevent the Mongrel from defending himself. He felt the subtle pull of the Force, the strings of the puppeteer wrapping his string around his comrade's throat. The Knight of Ren seethed in anger.

Pressing both hands forward, weapon still in hand, he let loose the full extent of his anger out on the first monk with a massive wave of energy. His body ragdolled away as Sinh pulled back and pressed forward his offhand once more, he focused on the head of the monk and squeezed firmly within his hand as it balled into an enclosed fist. The sound of his glove pulling on itself from the pressure, the monk screamed as crimson liquid rolled from his eyes and the very skin on his head pulled in as if he was being crushed by the very same invisible force he used against the Mongrel.

His right hand swept across the air, sliding the scatter gun to the Mongrel. He let go of his grip over the monk and swung his poled weapon, letting his head go free from his body and into the air. Glorious.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective 1
Tags: Rebirth | Alars Keto​

Twirling, striking, and laughing, Zachariel fought the knights. His joy at this fight was great, making his booming laughter grow ever louder as the knights fought on. This only served to unnerve the defenders, yet they still fought on. In a way, it was honorable, not that it mattered to Zachariel. He simply kept fighting, continuously dodging the worst attacks, and giving his own. Zachariel's strikes were wild and random, but conserved in the way only a true bladesmans strikes could be. They sought the gaps in defenses that the knights hardly knew were there, or pushed others back. Their reliance and strength in one another was also a downfall.

Laughing as he struck another through the throat, Zachariel spun about as Kryll suddenly joined the fray. The sudden appearance of the man took the knights by surprise, as all the others had completely avoided the main fight, knowing Zachariel wanted to fight them. As such, several nearby knights were also open to be attacked by Kryll. That said, they were turning to react to the new threat. Smirking as the sudden strike broke their cohesion, Zachariel struck out with renewed fury.

Letting out a roar that shook the air, Zachariel punched another knight through the skull, and took anothers head. The sudden ferocity gave the knights hesitation, and it made them fear. At their head, the leader gave a look around and saw the shifting landscape. He noticed the maruaders of the Brotherhood overrunning the defenders, pushing them back. Oh they were taking casualties, but not enough. Not enough to make the loss of a company of defenders worth it to the knight leader. Frowning, the knight made a call he had never issued before.
"Defenders of the realm, retreat!"

It was an order never given before, but one they knew to heed. Though no one had ever attacked the palace, the defenders had trained for situations that would entail it. That didn't mean they were prepared for the Brotherhood, or better than experience, but it gave them a chance. As such, the defenders began to take action. Those on the higher floors began to give even more fire, even as the one turret in the room was set to auto defender. Alongside them, the knights split into two groups. Those engaged with Zachariel and Kryll, and those who weren't. Though they hated it, they were shrewd enough to know when to retreat, and that not everyone would be able to make it.

Thus, those not engaged with the two leaders of the Brotherhood split off. They raised their shields and began to cover the retreat of their regular counterparts, even as they slowly fell back, taking the brunt of the fire. The other defenders also began to run, at least those on the ground floor. Sadly for them, only a squad made it out, not counting the seven knights. As soon as they reached the doors, having formed a gap of sorts, they pulled out. The doors shut then, locking and preparing for the worst. At that, the defenders on the upper floors threw whatever grenades they had and also retreated. This made the marauders of the Brotherhood take cover, allowing them to escape.

It all made Zachariel snarl, but he had different concerns. The knights had renewed their attacks, fighting with renewed fury, the fury of dead men walking. Snarling at them, Zachariel fought even faster, holding nothing back. Of the six knights fighting them, a further two fell quickly. But the rest wouldn't go down quickly, or easily. But it mattered little, they would go down, as the rest of the marauders turned to them to unleash their fury. Within a minute and a half the rest of the knights were brought low, either dead or captured. And those captured would soon wish they had died fighting.

As the fighting died down, Zachariel snarled once more. He looked down at one of the few living knights, and the only one currently being crushed beneath his boot. Sneering at the knight, Zachariel slowly pushed, cracking the chest plate of the female knight. She began to find it hard to breathe, both for the weight on her chest, and the Force fist around her neck.
"Marauders of the Maw! Continue the push, bring those doors down, and bring us closer to our target. As for these knights, someone make sure they make it to the slave ships. Tu'teggacha will find some use for them."

Stepping off the knight, Zachariel watched without a care as some marauders came and dragged her away. Turning to Kryll, Zachariel half sneered, half grinned at the man.
"Welcome to the fight, lieutenant. Glad you could join us." Turning towards the doors as explosives were readied for beyond their gates, Zachariel chuckled as they exploded and detonators were thrown through and into the halls beyond.. "Welcome to the slaughter."

 

[Maestus]

The monks disposed of, she ventured further into the monastery. She wasn't sure what she would find, only that she could feel a strong Force presence. Her mind began to consider who or what they will encounter even further within.

Before long, she rounded a corner and came face to face with a thick, closed door. It was heavy looking, made entirely of some sort of stone. She was no metalurgist, so she really had no clue. All she knew, was that this stone stood between her and her goal.

Behind her, she could hear the sounds of The Mongrel and TK-818 raining hell down on the inhabitants of the monastery. They were both fearsome warriors, tried, true and proven for the Maw. Truth be told, she knew them primarily by reputation only. And their reputations were terrible. Vicious warriors who would stop at nothing to fulfill the will of the Maw. The will of the Heathen Priests. The will of the Voice.

The Mongrel was a curious creature. In Maestus eyes, he was a grotesque mish mash of parts that someone sewed together and gave an evil soul to. Needless to say, Maestus approved. He was an inventive sort, as well. More than once, his homemade grenades had come in very handy.

TK-818 was different. To Maestus, he was a mystery. An enigma. Perhaps she would be best suited by getting to know the monster.

Now though, she must focus on the door. Taking in her surroundings, she squared herself facing the door. She held her hands out to her sides, and closed her eyes. She felt the anger and hatred rise. Anger at being held up from her objective by something as trivial as a door. Hatred for the monks, even if she didn't know why. Their views and practices were different than hers. That didn't automatically make them wrong, but she found them highly different and curious. They had knowledge, and she wanted it. No she WOULD have it.

Arms outstretched, she willed the Dark Side to her. She commanded it to serve her, to bend to her will. There was a struggle, albeit very brief. The Dark Side submitted, and bent to her demands. Her black eyes soon burned with a red rim. She swung her arms out front, and her hands curled into fists.

At first, nothing happened. This door was heavier than she anticipated. She took a deep breath and began again. She stared down the door, daring it to oppose her. In her mind, she saw the door slowly begin to shake. Dust began to get stirred up, making the area hard to see and breath in. In her mind, she saw the door begin to slowly spread apart, creeping inch by inch.

She blinked her eyes slowly, and saw the door as it was in her mind's eye. Slowly, it was opening, at a snails pace. But it was opening. Dust and stone particles filled the air, and Maestus began to cough. Once the door was finally open enough for her to get through, she stopped forcing it open, and slumped a bit. She grabbed onto the wall to keep her balance. The effort required of her to open the door had been intense.

Once she had a few seconds of rest, she took a couple deep, steadying breaths. Then stepped through the door.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: TK-818 | Maestus | Kyrel Ren

Those who put their faith in the Dark Voice need know no fear, for the magic of the enemy could be answered by Its servants. The Mongrel felt the invisible hand on his throat only for a few seconds before Sinh charged in and unleashed his power, crushing the attacking monk with a mystic fist of his own. The marauder slid to the floor, coughing as air flowed into his lungs once more. He could not understand these strange ways, but he was reassured to see that the masters of the invisible art that served the Maw were far stronger than these fool monks.

The Mongrel took up the scattergun that Sinh had returned to him and regained his feet. "My thanks, brother," he said, offering the other man a nod. Had they both been marauders, the situation would have been different; The Mongrel would have been shamed by needing the rescue of an equal. But the mysterious Ren were far beyond the ken of ordinary marauders, and there was no shame in accepting their superiority over him. Both had their part to play in shaping the galaxy to come through blood and fire, but the magnitude of their roles was different.

Quickly reloading the scattergun, The Mongrel resumed his charge up the stairs, heading for the uppermost meditation chamber. The Fangshi Grandmaster would no doubt know of their arrival by now, and would be making preparations to hold them back. Between their martial arts and their strength with magic, the senior monks would be far deadlier opponents than the pathetic novices the Brotherhood had slaughtered in the gardens outside. It would be best to cut off the head of the serpent quickly, before the enemy leader could rally the defenders.

The beautifully-carved stairs spiraled upward, level after level, as they ascended the central tower of the monastery. All around them were screams, fire, and the clash of weapons, signs that the attack was going well for the Brotherhood. The Mongrel could only hope that the mission to assassinate the Jin Emperor was going equally well, given his reputation for deadly traps and elite guards. But again, that was not his role. He was here to serve, and to eliminate whatever enemy the Dark Voice decided was to be his target. Nothing else existed in his life.

Finally they reached the fifth floor landing, where the great doors to the meditation chamber stood. But the heart of the temple was not unguarded; five monks, their flowing black robes marking them out as masters of the Fangshi Order, stood between them and the Grandmaster. Even for one of the Ren, this would be a difficult test. With a bloodthirsty shout, The Mongrel charged, opening fire with his scattergun. But the pellets had barely flown half the distance when one of the masters held up a hand... and stopped them midair, like raindrops suddenly frozen.

Then the pellets rushed back at The Mongrel, slamming into his own flesh. He shouted in pain and fury as several of them burrowed past his armor and drew blood. Letting his scattergun dangle from the strap across his chest, he drew the colossal ryyyk blade he had looted on Batuu and stepped to Sinh's side, guarding the other warrior's flank. Meanwhile, the master monks began spreading out, forming a circle around them. It was clear they were in for the fight of their lives... and unless they fought tooth and nail or got reinforcements from below, probably their last one.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Kagan-Jin Camp, Central Tent
Tags: Open

For a moment, only silence greeted the Taskmaster's pronouncement. The air within the huge yurt was hot and still, heavy with the reek of animal hides. The influence of the Great Khaan rippled through it like a tangible thing, a mass of invisible bonds that could wrap tight around anyone who displeased the mighty ruler... and squeeze the life from them. But Tu'teggacha refused to be cowed by the Khaan. The Brotherhood had obliterated entire empires, each world of which had been stronger than the full might of the Kagan-Jin.

Whether Ogedei realized it or not, his people still lived only because they might be useful.

"I greet the emissaries of the Brotherhood," the Khaan finally replied, his voice booming and filled with the strength of youth. "I am told you bring an opportunity worthy of my people, the Great Horde. I would hear what you have to say." Internally, the Ebruchi smiled. Although he had not yet agreed to anything, Ogedei had already all but sold his people into the service of the Maw. If he was even slightly willing to hear what the Taskmaster had to say, then his mind could easily be twisted along the paths that would lead him to bend the knee.

Tu'teggacha spoke then, but the particular words were not important. As he gave his speech, extolling the power of the Maw and the glory and riches of its conquests, he reached out with his dark power. He found the mind of the young Khaan, and he pushed the dark tendrils of his influence through the walls of the prideful ruler's psyche. There he began to plant the seeds that would grow into obedience. He played up lust for power and greed for riches. He amplified fear of unworthiness. He conjured respect for the might of the Brotherhood.

Ogedei did not have Temujin's strength of will. Soon, he would belong to the Maw, body and soul.

 

[Alars Keto]

The fighting was fierce, close, and personal. Bloodied blades clashed together and bodies fell, the booming laughter of Zachariel Steelblood washed over the battle haunting those who could hear his dark voice. Kryll paid attention to nothing but the blade as it carved through his opponents, he could feel the air brush against him as he narrowly dodged life threatening blow by blow. The pain of many near misses scraping against his skin, the blood trickling down as he went from one enemy to the next, he was enraptured in it all. Violence was life, war was his religion, this was his church.

His attention was broken with the call for retreat by the knights, his final swing plunged into his opponent above the collar bone bringing the enemy knight to the ground. Panting, sweating from the battle he rose his gaze to watch as knights fell back and the sharpshooters above laid out covering fire. Kryll broke down into a tired roll, narrowly avoiding certain death. The Lieutenant quickly made his way to the location of the warlord before him and followed the lead of Zachariel Steelblood. That's when the grenades came down, shattering the area in beautiful violence. Kryll took cover immediately, his hearing violently shaken up in static noise.

Rising up from cover the swordsmen quickly gripped his weapon and rejoined the conflict, striking at the stragglers alongside the vicious warlord still on the warpath. He rallied Kryll and the others to him, Zachariel's battlecry filling the entire area with his mighty voice as the marauders pushed forward driving into the enemy's defenses to continue onward. Kryll struck down another, making his way to the mighty leader of the Bloodsworn, sweat rolling down his brow as the Warlord turned to greet him with a half grin.

" 'hese knights are getting on my nerves. I think it's time we collect some heads eh milord?"

He looked on as the doors shattered, the explosives opening the way in a mighty boom.

 

[TK-818]

Objective 3: Pillage the Monastery
Location: Fangshi-Da Temple, Grounds
Tags: The Mongrel


"My thanks, brother."

The silent gaze of the onyx warrior fell on The Mongrel followed by a small nod of acknowledgement. Sinh did not care for the lives of marauders at his side, their lives were minimal at best and served their purposes in the greater cause. This was not the case with the Mongrel, chosen by the Dark Voice himself, a nobody risen from the unlikeliest of positions from slave-soldier to marauder captain. The Mongrel had earned the Ren's respect, especially from the Knight of Ren Sinh.

The dark warrior silently waited as the Mongrel reloaded his scattergun and scanned the area vigilantly. Resuming their rush, the Mongrel led the charge once more with Sinh taking up the rear guard behind the crusader as they entered a sort of meditation chamber. Leaving the spiraled stairs behind after ascending the entirety of the central monastery tower, they stood before the great doors to the Grandmaster's chamber. Five monks of the Fangshi Order stood before them in oppostition, in defense of their grandmaster and sacred knowledge.

The Mongrel charged, firing upon the monks but their command of the Force showed their skill far outmatched that of the marauder's scattergun. The pellets of the weapon fell to the floor after freezing under their command, iron droplets sent back after mere moments back to sender drawing blood from the Mongrel as it slammed into his flesh. A veiled smile spread wickedly under the mask of the Knight of Ren as he ran his fingers along the edge of his Atrisian cap, his weapon preternaturally slamming into the pellets that came his way aside from a stray few that grazed his person.

They came back to back as the monks circled around them, the Mongrel with his massive ryyyk blade and the Knight of Ren with his ultra sonic vibrohalberd. He drew on his hatred, his anger, his contempt for the light that opposed the spread of the shadow. He could not allow this place to be his final battle, no not when greater glory awaited. The odds were not in their favor, he would not pretend his delusions of grandeur were above reality. Yet, if he was going down, he would take every single one of them with him.

His vocabulator echoed forth as his words resounded outward with a sharp hiss, "You're all going to die."

Tapping the back of the Mongrel with his weapon's pole end in signal, he whipped his weapon around and swung violently in an attempt to catch the first monk in front of the Mongrel to Sinh's very own rear off guard.