Private Father's Tribunal

[Tathra Khaeus]

​

Caradim - Inner territories of the Bryn'adûl
Super-Construct, Tachael-Vemnak training facilities
Mid-day

The training area was a large dirt pit with various obstacles and metal decorations stretched across it, the platform itself extending outward from one of the dozens of skyscrapers within the Super-Construct. The mid-day sun light casts long shadows among the burnt-bronze dirt. The silver-pearl grey metal cutting sharp shimmers of light all around them amidst the dull stretches of shaped stone and marble. A Warlock and a Zealot stand at the edges of the dirt pit. Within it, Amunra Khaeus remains in training attire - matched by the Warlock and Zealot. Light and fitting cloth alongside tougher joint protection and weaved alloy-plates of composite verikast. These are simple uniforms of the Bedla'Korum, the education and training facilities of the Draelvasier species. However, this is no simple training session. There are certain expectations of legacy, ones even the Chieftain felt inclined to bend to.

Tathra Khaeus stood in a podium above the battleground, watching. Opaque aureate eyes portray an indifference, one indebted to the true investment he felt. Amunra was his son, his only son. He understood what it meant to be a child, once. But he had never been a father, Amunra had grown up like the rest of their kin. They had never met more than once or twice before, and even then they had not spoken. But now he was a Warrior, and it was time they come to know one and other.

"He fights well, does he not?" Inquired Dervak, one of the prime judicators of the Belda'korum. He was a trusted member of the Tachael Vemnak, and had overseen Amunra's education. The Titan had been keeping tabs.

"Hm." He responded, unsure if to voice praise or doubt. He did not want to affect the young Khaeus' concentration.

His arms folded once over the other, the silver-grey plates of his armour shifting with him; the gold details glimmering as they did. Thus far Amunra had shown promise, but there was still much to learn.

"Warrior, disarm your opponents." Judicator Dervak spoke aloud, hands on the railing as the Warlock and Zealot took adjacent positions away from Amunra. Both carried blunt wooden spears.


Tag: Amunra Khaeus

 

[Metis Athena Elpis]

(delete please wrong account)

 

[Amunra Khaeus]

Amunra Khaeus kept his breathing steady, trying to focus in anger into something disciplined. Amnura knew it was pointless to surpress the rage but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use it. The trick was to stay in control. It wouldn’t be the first time Amunra had let loose in a beserker rage revelling in the slaughter, truth be told it was one of the more enjoyable aspects of battle, but this wasn’t an all out warzone with the enemy in front of him. This wasn’t even about his opponents whom he knew he could defeat with ease. This was about the creature on the podium. This was about his father.

Focus. He scolded himself. The Zealot made his move head on spinning in a series of thrusts, a flurry of attacks, meanwhile the Warlock chanted and enhanced the Zealots ability’s turning what should be a relatively easy kill of someone who skulked in the shadows for their kills into a formidable creature.

It was a typical tactic. Send the one who could take the hits in a martial contest while those who tapped into a greater force gathered there power for a follow up attack. Amunra knew it had the nickname of ‘focusing the tank’.

Amunra analysed the situation within half a heartbeat. Amunra ducked and doged the first few blows while he waited patiently for an opening at which point he stepped aside letting the Zealots momentum carry itself forward with a helpful guiding hand by Amunra, who grabbing the brute turned into a leverage throw twisting his body as he did so to throw it at the the Warlock. They were momentarily entangled. Amunra gathered his own power too himself and unleashed it against the Zealot who crumbled into a shattered mess of blood and bone. It made Amunra hungry.



Amunra turned to the podium and knelt before the Chieftain. His father.

“I am honoured by your presence Great Chieftain”.

Not that you’d ever bothered to show up before. Amunra thought in a flash of frustration. A Childs frustration of being abandoned. Amunra crushed the thought and the feeling.

Don’t be weak. Amunra chided himself

“To what do I owe such an honour?” Amunra asked as humbly as he could. It was the closest he could get to a churlish ‘what do you want’ as he could without risking, well everything.

Tathra Khaeus

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Tathra stood tall as his son came forth, his skills had improved. But not so much that he was ready for anything serious, but no Warrior was before being thrust into it. He always overanalysed, staring at his son as a thousand words crawled through the back of his mind. Every breath, he was cognisant for. He couldn't tell what it was, an intense critical focus or an anxiousness he was not used to. If it was one or both he couldn't tell, doubted he ever would. It wasn't important, he hid it all behind his stoic exterior.

Golden aureate eyes stared down his child upon approach, submission was unecessary but he understood all the same. Before Dervak could speak, his paw rose to silence him. The Judicator looked confused, but he didn't care. Tathra backed away from the podium, turning left and heading down to Amunra. He could feel the child's anger, his abandonment. He carrier it like a foul odour, a limiting and silly thing. Tathra had been occupied with reality, whilst his son played at war and trained. But it was necessary, all of it.

As he arrived at the side of the knelt heir. He stood idle for a moment, looking down on the prostrating Warrior - unease cut through him like a painful throb of the heart. Some grand sorrow resting on already old shoulders. Perhaps that resementment was not misplaced. His aloft paw gestured with its fingers for him to rise.

"Stand child." Tathra offered.

He wanted to look his son in the eyes, but he didn't know why.


TAG: Amunra Khaeus

 

[Oya Skirata]

(delete wrong account)

 

[Amunra Khaeus]

Amunra glanced up with his eyes in surprise at the Chieftains command. Amunra internally resignated himself to his fate.

So. This is how I die Amunra thought in quiet acceptance What a waste

The Chieftain was going to kill him. Amunra wasn’t afraid exactly just frustrated. There was just pointlessness of it all. Like a dog who had failed it’s training.


What had felt like an eternity training day after day, physical combat, harnessing the Force, military strategems, and of course the most distasteful of all, learning about the various weak pathetic lifeforms that should be exterminated like the vermin they were. Amunra had been put through all of that just to be discarded aside.

Amunra considered just for a moment, to not accept his fate. To fight, to kill his father the Chieftain. Amunra had learnt enough of empires over the millennia that a coup de ta by an heir wasn’t impossible. Perhaps he could be salvaged. Amunra sighed and dismissed the thought as fanciful. Even if the Bryn’adul could be coopted to follow another, which was impossible as it stood. Amunra didn’t have the basis of power to support his claim. At best one of the Bryn’adul’s more senior commanders could use Amunra as a figure head puppet on the throne. Little better than a slave in all but name. No Amunra would rather die than live such an existence, he had too much honour and dignity for that.

“Yes Chieftain” Amunra rose to look his father in the eyes. “What is your command? How may I be of service?”

Tathra Khaeus