Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Insidious Instruction | Dominion of Hast

[Osam]

Objective: Instruct
Post 3
Tags: Keldothera

A portion of Osam had expected General Keldothera to rebuff his efforts to volunteer. They'd suffered through some difficulties in the past, but he was under the impression that they were now on common ground. Whether or not that was true was to be determined, though. In truth, they had not interacted to a significant degree since the invasion where the Risen had gone over her head in order to facilitate a tactical retreat from a doomed area. At the time he'd attributed her decision to pride, but later she chose to grant him the use of her forces in order to better secure victory.

Of course, if she did still harbor any sort of resentment, he had now provided her a perfect opportunity to let loose her anger. No doubt he would be expected to utilize the Quilxyn in order to defend himself from an array of specialized firearms. If his concentration slipped at a vital moment, then he could ostensibly be killed, even with the presence of healers in the area. No one would blame her for the incident - a training accident, a mistake.

Regardless of her intentions, he followed the instructions that had been provided, linking himself to the Quilxyn and facing the crowd so that they could better observe the proceedings. This was not the first time he'd used a Quilxyn Protector, though he suspected that they were more useful than he considered them. Osam cast a curious glance towards Keldothera, awaiting the next series of instructions, prepared for what he expected would be an exciting couple of minutes.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Instruct
Post: Four
Tags: Osam |

Keldothera waited for the Sraelvun to get into position, standing over the partially concealed platform where the two elemental weapons. Part of her had a notion, tell the Srael she was taking one and use the other. A churlish intent to wipe away a stain on her record, but she knew in her heart that was not the way of unity. At Nar Kreeta, Osam had fought to keep her accountable and their warriors alive and it had allowed them to win, trapping a large force of the enemy underneath. Which in turn had allowed the Primarch to bury them using the Servitor.

She couldn't hate him, as much as her pride wanted her to. She picked up the cryo rifle, checking the safeties and whatnot. In her time in the field, she'd rarely had to use an enemy rifle but often times found it was good practice to at least understand the weaponry.

She moved down from the platform.

"You can never predict what's coming, just like you can't tell if I'm about to blast you with heat or ice. You need to be able to think fast, make split-second decisions to protect not only yourself but your fellow Warriors." Keldothera stood a few metres away from Osam, aiming the weapon in his direction.

"So, you need to be-"

Kelda cut herself, pulling hard on the trigger as a slew of cryoban flew at Osam.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Tutor
Post: Four

His eyes jumped between the droids, half expecting tendrils of light to jump between them as he wasn't looking. His eyes focused on the further to the left, a female Aeravalin Zealot. She seemed to be the most calm, collected. His eyes, fixated for a moment.

Brilliant shades of violet exploded out from her palm, arcing violently into two of the droids and destroying them. The one in the middle, a male Baedurin released a slash toward a singular droid - causing it to fall apart. The third, found no success. The Aeravalin and Baedurin turned to each other, congratulating one and other. It warmed his heart to see two once very divided races in harmony. The third however, a Aeravalin male hung his head low.

Drek'ma hobbled to him, the Aeravalin looking up at him with an expression of expectance. Perhaps he expected to be scolded. They did not suffer weakness, but they did not trample those who faced it.

"Keep trying. Do not submit to weakness."

 

[Osam]

Objective: Instruct
Post 4
Tags: Keldothera

Osam's eyes were locked onto the figure of General Keldothera as she went about the process of selecting her weapon. He had hoped that he might be able to discern from their appearance which rifle was which, but disappointingly it seemed that they had been crafted identically. That would not have proven to be such an issue if in her very next sentence the General hadn't made it clear that she would not be informing him what to defend against. Whether the weapon was fire or ice, he would need to discern for himself.

It was a dangerous instruction. The entirety of whether he succeeded or failed had been placed upon his own reflexes and the ability of his mind to recognize a blast of frost from one of flame. The Quilxyn would allow him to survive the assault, for certain, but it seemed unlikely that it would automatically select the oncoming threat for him. If it worked in such a way, then there would have been no reason for him to bother linking the mind stone in the first place.

Osam listened as she spoke, detailing the importance of split-second decisions because one never knew -- the cutoff of her words was heightened by the sudden severity of his situation. The weapon had been directed at his body and fired, and now a projectile steaming with frigid temperature was shooting towards him. There was no time to think of much, nor to analyze the projectile, it was simply a matter of reflex and concealed knowledge. Osam knew that he was fireproof unlike many of his Sraelvun kindred - if it were a blast from the thermal device, then he would be fine even if he guessed incorrectly, but the same was not true of the cryo-gun.

With that in mind, he commanded the Quilxyn to defend against cold-blasts, hoping that he had been correct in his assessment of the situation.

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

​

Post: # 2
Planet: Hast, Planets Surface
Location: Training Sector of the Ashaka Order, Mage's Circle
Objectives: Instruct the Initiates

The next batch of potential mages slowly made their way up the steps, each one more careful than the next. The flaming cauldrons surrounding the magical circle were necessary, if knocked over it could take hours to re-create the trial. Each Drael came into place, each one stretching their arm outward. They would feel nothing different than the usual sway of the air around them. Except for one, if they proved worthy to the force, would feel a feathered weight. So light that the body could almost ignore it. It was the acceptance of this invisible anchor that culled the weak from their process. In truth, some circles had no success, given the rarity of force sensitive Draelvasier in the Bryn. While it may have been a disappointing truth, Sylok'Vanari considered it to reignite the pride of what the Ashaka were. A recognition through others failures is what made them special to begin with.

Sylok walked meticulously, hands strewn with small pieces of metal and iron. Some mixed with bone and ash. He had reached into a large pot earlier before their arrival. The contents within, now displayed in his hands as he stood atop the platform he once adorned during the last trial. Sylok motioned for his assistant. The Ashaka member shifted across the platform, waiting for Sylok to create the next conduit. When the deed was done, the assistant would bring the crafted artifact to the center of the circle and another would be chosen...they hoped.

In a sudden instance, Sylok's lengthy nimble fingers bent inward. The slender pointy shaped nails tapping on the encased materials inside his palm. Shell-like cracks splintered through him as his fingers began to move in a twisting motion. The force fueled it and the flames on the cauldrons lifted higher. It was spectacle, an honor to watch the creator restore the bonds that had been stripped from them. The process was called, Ak'malka Ra, meaning converting all. In essence, the sacrifices, the resources, the force - all of it would be recycled to bring balance to those lost and those found. Either the force would choose, or one of the initiates would choose for them. Either way, it had to be done. Sylok pulled his hands from the other. A spiral of mixing materials floated before him. Each ingredient slithering in and out trying to form a whole. It was then that chants in the form of singing came to.

Sylok gyrated his wrists, each working harder and harder to muster the force. With each ticking motion, a new piece of tiny metal latched onto the medium sized spire. Bone stacked and shifted into place. Ash wove around the creation as a whole. Small tiny spikes sprung outward and as the clasping resistance of its finality became apparent, Sylok ushered more power. Threads of the force crackeled, the vibrant hue of orange cleansing the object in a blinding light of electric. The singing stopped and the force fell dead. What remained after was an obsidan-ashed object. It stretched half the body length of the Aeravalin it stood before. It seemed to be woven into a small staff, the tip jutted with a gleaming source of bone. The force, by no will of its user from before had staked it into the stone beneath it.

"It is done, let us begin." Sylok muttered, his eyes glazing over with an endless grey.

He stared down the object he created, a slight grin forming as his teeth jaggedly ground into place.

Galak | Sarask Hiskt | Sethrak | Tathra Khaeus | Keldothera | Osam | Primarch Drek'ma | @
​

​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: C
Post: Four
Tags: Sarask Hiskt

He was surprised by her swiftness, manipulating her body and backing away slowly. Normally, he wouldn't of allowed for his opponent to simply back away like that he would've crossed the distance they had retreated as they tried to rise to their feet. But, this was a training exercise. Running away only prolonged the inevitable conclusion when fists were exchanged.

But he'd indulge for the moment, Tathra stepped forward and toward Sarask with his left leg. Crossing nearly the entirety of the metre between them before striking out with his left fist toward her abdomen. His right fist raised to his chest, waiting to react.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Instruct
Post: Five
Tags: Osam

Keldothera stopped firing as soon as the cryo came in contact with Osam, watching as the Quilxyn's mind buzzed with red - a sign of usage. A thin red shield appeared a metre ahead of Osam, allowing the cryo energy to diffuse in the air.

When the gust of cryo disappeared, Osam was still there. Fine as ever - in the sense of physical health. That is. Keldothera lowered the weapon, giving a nod to Osam before turning to the others. Kelda could hear the discussion among them.

"As you can see, Risen Osam would've suffered grievous injury if hit by the cryoban. And we know our enemies have built weapons to destroy us. At Yurb, at Kreeta, at Ankhypt. Your reactions, your reflexes and YOUR discipline will make all the difference." Kelda explained.

She made her way back up to the platform, placing the weapon back.

 

[Galak]

Objective: C
Post: Three
Tags: Sarask Hiskt | Tathra Khaeus

Galak continued to eat, ripping the meat off of the bone as he watched the fight continue. Tathra shouldn't of let her back away like that, should've closed in when she tried to get to her feet. But, he supposed there wouldn't be much point in either of them trying to grievously wound the other.

He thought back to sparing with Tathra, they'd exchanged blows and he felt it for days afterward. Galak chuckled, his Juggernaut brethren joining him with an ale to share. He took into hand, the onlookers were gathering.

"Its fun when its not me in there." The baedurin snorted, slapped on the back as Juggernauts of the 10th joined in on the laughter.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: C
Post: Five
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

Sarask brought her fists up. He was a big man, that’s easier to hit. But he was also fast and powerful, which made him not-easy to strike. She had many factors to think of. Will her strike create an opening for him? Will he be able to grab onto her? At what point would her armour break? That was bad. It caused indecision. So she went with what she had.

It didn’t take long for Tathra to catch up to her, even if he paused.

She moved her right fist to the left, aiming to catch Tathra’s blow with the back of her forearm. With a flick of her arm, she aimed to apply pressure to Tathra’s fist. Although her coarse, almost jagged crystalline outer body would flay the flesh from a weaker creature’s bones at that pressure and strength, she doubted it would work for Tathra. Usually, she would use this forearm move to deflect a punch (then ravage the offender), she doubted the War’s Custodian’s arm would move for her. Instead, she used it to move, aiming to use his arm as a crutch to move forward and to the left, aiming to deliver a right hook toward his lower ribs. She wasn’t nearly as strong as Tathra was, but her fist was built differently, much like her forearm; rough, wiry, as though she were wearing natural knuckle-dusters.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: C
Post: Five
Tags: Sarask Hiskt |

Her left arm slinked under his own, pushing her to his right as she stepped in to use his own weight against him. His extended left unmoving even as she darted toward him. She'd made her mistake, but she wouldn't be able to run from this one so easily. Tathra moved closer, stepping into Sarask's attack so that his right foot was nearly on top of her left as she swung for him, a breathes distance between them. The outside of his right wrist catching against her left, his strength thwarting the momentum of her strike. His movements were controlled, precise as he struck with a back-fist, aimed to crash into her throat.

His right fist immediately retracting back into a defensive position as his left fist swung in, nearly on top of Sarask as he struck into the centre of her chest with enough force to splinter the bones of a Mandalorian in the hopes of driving her back on staggered feet. Following through, Tathra shifted his stance to mirror hers as he kicked outward to her waist to take her off her feet.

If Sarask fell, he'd pace round to her left.

 

[Galak]

Objective: C
Post: Four
Tags: Sarask Hiskt | Tathra Khaeus

There was an audible reaction of 'oof' and 'ouch' from the crowd as the Titan replied to her attack. Galak almost squinted, even at this distance his instinct was to guard himself from those blows.

Frankly, it reminded him of the battle of the heretic battle between Tathra and Grosck during the An'shaernehm on Caradim. He remembered that day, his own body weak after the battle at Kesh when the Leader of the exiles had died, releasing a torrent of draining energy that had killed a little less than a hundred.

Tathra fought Grosck, Drael to Drael with their Axes. And once Grosck disarmed Tathra, the Titan used his close quarters fighting skills to completely dismantle Grocks, tearing him apart. Though Galak hoped that didn't happen to Sarask.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: C
Post: Six
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

Not good. She had miscalculated. Or not thought it through. She should fight her instincts more. That wasn’t good for an assassin. Getting into a fight proper wasn’t good for an assassin anyway. This just wasn’t a good situation. She should’ve kept to fighting the dim ones.

Tathra’s foot came down on top of hers, trapping it. She felt the dull weight on top of her. The crystal held, but she could feel it groaning under his foot. He also stepped into her punch, not allowing it to complete its arc, and she lost much of its power, it didn’t help that he bumped her other one-off course.

He moved to strike her neck, swiftly. That was a place she didn’t want to get hit, but as she tried to move back, she found that her foot was still tucked underneath Tathra’s. She was unbalanced from her punch. She could have ducked down, but the realisation came just a hint too late, and she was punched in the throat. Her neck splintered a bit, though luckily not thoroughly inward, it did kilter her backwards, however.

Then, he punched her in the chest, cracking her armour more thoroughly there, and penetrating to strike her body proper. It hurt like hell, but despite its failure to fully stop the blow, the armour absorbed a lot of it, keeping her in the fight, though reeling.

And finally, he kicked her. This presumably put his foot off of her, allowing her to move back a little, dampening some of the blow, but it was still a powerful front kick. She fell backwards, rolling along her shoulder and ending up on all fours. There was a lot she could’ve done better here. She checked her chest, some blood, no organs appeared ruptured. Some broken pieces of crystal fell to the floor. It felt wrong.

As Tathra paced around toward her, she grabbed a hand full of bloodied loose splinters, aiming to swipe it upward, toward Tathra’s face, then roll to her right, opening up some space and turning toward him. Should she have been successful in throwing her pieces at Tathra, she’d aim to burst forward in an attempt to shoulder-barge his lower abdomen.

 

[Osam]

Objective: Instruct
Post 5
Tags: Keldothera

There was a tense moment as Osam waited to be slammed directly in the abdomen by a blast of thermally-charged energy. Perhaps he would have incorrectly guessed what was about to strike him and would instead be stricken with the fiery of the two weapons. While he was well aware that it wouldn't cause him any sort of physical damage, he didn't feel as though his psyche would appreciate the immediate disapproval that he might receive from his peers. Though, perhaps both the Baedurin and the Aeravalin would have reacted similarly given their resistances against heat and cold respectively. What was the point of defending against something that you were immune to?

Then, performing its duty as protector and guardian, the Quilxyn summoned a light shield around the form of the Risen. The reddish tint was immediately noticeable to anyone looking at him, as was the instantaneous dispersal of the Cryoban projectile. Osam saw through the shield to General Keldothera, watching her nod of... approval? Acceptance? He provided one of his own in recognition, though at least a part of him wondered whether she recognized the inherent danger in training so recklessly with firearms such as these.

It seemed that her demonstration had come to its conclusion, or at the very least a portion of it had finished. Osam watched as she set down the Cryoban weapon and addressed the crowd, listening intently before gradually reaching out to the Quilxyn nearby. He went through the process of unlinking himself from the entity before approaching to set it on the table beside her, under the impression that his volunteering was concluded.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: C
Post: Six
Tags: Sarask Hiskt |


Most Draelvasier had a basic carapace, but there were exceptions like Sarask who had a rare mutation affect theirs. Hers sharpened her edges, similarly to the Dreddikkast. He'd seen what happened when she moved at full speed toward a person, spliced them into tiny pieces like a mass driver just blasted them. He was in luck that the arena provided so little room for momentum.

Her using her own injuries to fight back was not something he expected. Tathra raised his arms in defence, the spikes splintering against the length of his wrists and biceps, she leapt for him - slamming her shoulder into his gut. He staggered back, knees bent as he hunched over forward, gritting teeth as the elbow ribbed into him.

Tathra reached down to grab Sarask's left underarm, left hand grasping her right side as he turned into his fall - landong in his left knee as he would attempt to throw Sarask off of him, rolling across the arena floor.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: Instruct
Post: Six
Tags: Osam

When Osam brought the Quilxyn back up to her, she didn't say anything. Not immediately, they'd leave the equipment there. However, unbeknownst to them the weapons had obviously been altered to essentially be ineffective/non-lethal. The worst one would get from them was a bad headache and a temporary but forceful sleep.

"I will leave the equipment here for you to test among yourselves, I'll be watching." Her last words were poised like a threat, but they weren't.

Just like the cryo and pyro weaponry it was a cautionary implement. She turned to Osam, eyes looking him once over with harsh eyes, but not hateful. She had been wrong about the Risen, she knew that.

"Thank you."

Keldothera moved away from the platform as the words were spoken, walking down an adjacent set of stairs toward the fair-grounds.

She was hungry.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective: C
Post: Seven
Tags: Tathra Khaeus

Of course, Sarask knew that she couldn’t reach her full potential within the arena ring, as far as charging was concerned. At that speed, either Tathra broke, or she broke. She was interested in neither happening, as both were a lose situation. However, even at this distance, her strong legs gave her a good charge.

And in the end, if she managed to wind Tathra or even push him back a bit, that was good for her. She wasn’t suer about the wind part, but at least she managed to execute the manoeuvre. She managed to slam her shoulder into the target. She could have picked elsewhere, but given the short amount of time she had, it was the easiest target.

But, whatever damage she did, it wasn’t enough to take Tathra out of the fight, even for a moment. He gripped and threw her as he dropped to his knee, causing her to roll across the floor. She grunted. She had landed on her front, which wasn’t very good, as her armour was currently sticking into it, causing some measure of pain. She stood up, leaving a bit of blood on the floor as it dripped.

She rubbed her hand against the edges of her armour, clearing out the jagged pieces, that it may regrow cleanly, and pooled them into her other hand. She rolled the shoulder that impacted upon Tathra, it still seemed to be functioning. Her neck was a little like her chest, but it was still functioning and she wouldn’t check it until after the fight, too risky.

She had given Tathra about enough time to get up, having checked her own wounds. Utilising her long arms, she moved forward swiftly, aiming to swing it around to throw the shards once again at him. Last time it was but a swift tossing motion; here it was a fully-fledged throw, sending shards of her armour flying toward Tathra, spreading out for his upper body this time, not just his head. Of course, some pieces weren’t as sharp as others, and a fair few would miss.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: C
Post: Seven
Tags: Sarask Hiskt

The shards were up close this time, but equally so Tathra knew the trick. Taking to his feet, he side-stepped; twisting his torso to the side to make himself as small as possible as the shards flew past him, two embedding in his left shoulder. Sarask was an adept and resourceful fighter, but there were only so many tricks one could replicate before the scenario changed or your opponent adapted. Tathra grimaced slightly, but the thick carapace of his shoulder negated any real damage.

He circled round her toward the middle of the arena, fists raised defensively as he waited for her. He didn't want to kick her whilst she was down, this wasn't a display to show his Warriors how to most affectively kill something. But, rather a test of both warriors skill. That involved knowing when to restrain and test you, all by yourself.

"Come, Sarask. No more tricks."

Tathra spread out his stance, right foot in front of the left as he weighed himself on the ball of his left foot. Left fist held back, right forward in front of himself. It was her turn to go on the offensive, if she thought she could.

 

[Galak]

Objective: C
Post: Four
Tags: Sarask Hiskt | Tathra Khaeus

The fight started to lull just as they were really getting into it. But honestly, Galak kinda wanted Sarask to get in a few more licks before the whole thing came crashing down around them. But it was only really a matter of time before Tathra decided that was going to happen.

Galak knew what it was like to be an underdog. Nearly every Marauder had become a Warlord, with the exception of some like Hraelga. She had.. disappeared after Kesh. He wasn't sure if she died, but he thought she had. If she wasn't, then at the very least she had abandoned them, and that saddened him.

Galak pulled himself from his thoughts as the Titan taunted the agile Sarask, not very honourable.

"Come on, Sarask! Shut him up!" Galak shouted over the crowd.

His joyful haggling was joined in by the other Juggernauts at his side, shouting and cheering. Some, even chanting her name over and over.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: Tutor
Post: Five

Groups of three tried their hand at the task, suffering no real great successes or failures. Those with some adept knowledge in the force performed well enough that Drek'ma was pleased with their progress. It was becoming more and more important for them to have defences against the technological. More and more it was being used against them.

He recalled one of his earliest conflicts after being named Primarch, the fight against the fleet of androids and their AI leadership. He recalled how the Artificial Intelligence proposed a hypothesis to Tathra, or rather how the Titan recalled it. The android claimed that their chances of survival were astronomically low, that they'd be invaded and wiped out themselves inside a few months.

Tathra ensured that wouldn't be possible when he duped the Mandalorians into causing a war that shook the interior rim. Further proven by their most recently conflicts against the Jedi and the Sith. Drek'ma knew one thing for certain, and that was that the Bryn'adul would continue to persevere.

 

[Seer Kalanthir]

Objective: Tutor
Post: One

The Seer had watched from the sideline, hands clasped behind his back as he approached Drek'ma at the end of his instructions. The Primarch had proven himself again and again a worthy ally, but he was also knowledgeable in the force. After the events of Krimenomen with the celestial, there was much to discuss regarding the nature of the force and how it had changed in their space.

"Well done, we grow greater in number by the day. And, with such tutors at the helm. Greater in strength."

The Seer waltzed over to the droids now scattered in burnt selections across the field. He almost sneered in reaction to their presence alone. It was a reminder of the Galaxy beyond their own, the nauseating technological signals polluting the free air. Every inch of the populated Galaxy, drowning in it. And now, tears in their territory.

The Seers had spent weeks going around their territory, trying to close any of the forming gaps. But whatever lingered beyond them was in a pressurized space. When one tear was sown closed, the others became more difficult to close themselves.

But that was not something the rest of the empire had to know.

"The Seers wish to speak with you, Primarch."