Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Late Evening Destruction - Dominion of Pammant

[Primal Architect]

The Bryn'adûl | Late Evening Destruction - Dominion of Pammant

Pammant, a neighbouring planet to Mon Cala - a diseased world that hides its favoured cousin. Shipyards and docks stretch across Pammant. We must burn the constructs of the Sith to slag, the vast materials of this world will be valuable to us in the wars to come.

Objective A: Defeat occupying force
A valuable asset for the Sith, the neighbouring force on Pammant is a substantial one. Tathra leads a full scale assault on the Shipyards across the planet. The focal point of which is their largest shipyard that sits on the Kelbeuan ocean.

Objective B: Fleet Miasma
Hundreds of ships of various sizes have launched half built and half-armed across the planet in an attempt to salvage the mass investment of the planetary shipyards. The Fleet of Divine Brutality engages them as hundreds of Debauchers board and disarm the Destroyers in various states of completion. In low orbit just above the Kelbeuan ocean a massive naval battle has broken loose. Destroy the Sith’s ships.

Objective C: Rescue!
The Sith have captured a team of Zealot Elites and their accompanying Drone unit inside a fortified tomb and are holding them hostage! Rescue the Zealots, Drones or both or risk their lives for the glory of combat.

Spoiler: Tag List

- Osam | Krarolk T'manu | Amunra Khaeus | Tathra Khaeus | Ostak Cl'mana | Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir | Keldothera | Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Ursa Antar | Khufut Atim | Argaloth | Gordrak | Sylok'Vanari | Sethrak | Aovinr |

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: One

Mortar fire crashed around them as the Risen-Srael fired behind them, trailing through the destroyed duracrete by a firm hand on the back of his armoured collar. The Risen opened fire with the Carbine at hand, dropping a Sith soldier as another cried out in pain moments before his death. The legionnaire's body fell in two halves on either side of the Risen, wincing in pain as the torso fell on his mangled leg.

He fired twice more, pulling down on the pressure trigger again and again as the Sith legionnaires kept coming. Suddenly, several were flanking on either side of the trench they were as the Drael dragging him stopped; turning with a roaring blast of red energy, escaping from the swing of an all too familiar Axe.

The Risen froze with awe as the crimson figure darted between him and the fire from the troopers who survived his initial attack. It was no ordinary Draelvasier, no ordinary warrior. It was the Titan himself. The massive right paw reached out, grasping the trooper and turning with such momentum as he slammed him into the side of the trench wall, his armour splitting into shattered pieces as a spray of blood climbed the side of the crevice. The left arm moved independently, turning and slashing the legs out from under the other trooper.

His body crashed violently as his head slammed to the rock, toppling down into the trench along with them.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: One

“They’ve taken one of our mortars! I will deal with them, continue with the assault, General. This was likely a distraction, stay vigil.” Galak spoke into his comm, growling with frustration as he pulled himself upright.

The explosion came from above, one of the towers still standing from the chapel. Galak held the Triad underarm, forearm and hand hugging its barrel whilst using his left arm to hold himself upright against the cobble. His eyes kept shifting out into the open where Raf and Tarku were, the large Grenadier had nearly been cut in half by the rocket.

A unit of commando’s had made their way behind their lines and taken over one of their own Mortars and likely killed the crew. Impressive, for humans. But it had meant that they’d been unprepared.

Raf continued to squirm, struggling not to shake and cry at the sheer agony. A leg and half his shoulder missing. He was lucky to not have lost more, but everything was replaceable if they could get him out. Tarku needed to stabilize him but the combat medic couldn’t get the massive Grenadier to stop moving.

The newly made Warlord peered over the edge of the rubble, eyeing the location of the Mortar sight. He seriously doubted they’d went to the trouble of moving it, he and marksmen would deal with it.

“Gara, Dornsk - help the medic. Tirran, with me.” Galak called.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 1

The Primarch was working with a detachment of Zealots to seal off the remaining bomber shuttles, it was an high-rise shipyard, it’s hangar bay exit concealed by a massive crane. However with continous bombing runs, they could not conceal it forever. The Shamans followed the stench of fear, and here they were. A few dozen Gunboats maneuvered down into the Shipyard, ahead Drek’ma could see the pinpricks in the distance, he discerned that they could only be the hanger's soon to be dead occupants started to rush around in a frenzy. It was interesting watching them, but their only chances of survival were too low. They would not survive, they would add to the Crusade, nothing more.

Beckoning towards the pilot, Drek’ma ordered the Gunboats down towards the surface and the hangar. This was the end for these pilots, they had become a nuisance - nothing of great important.

As they drew close, the Primarch allowed the force to generate around him; a focused energy. White and pure, Drek'ma teleported from the hovering Gunboat to the hangar below marching with staff in hand as several soldiers turned their attention to the large Aeravalin. Before they could lift their weapons, life draining energy lurched from his staff. White tendrils sunk into their chests, and tore what little energy remained in their fledgling forms.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Two

The Risen reloaded its Carbine, firing off a last shot as another trooper came over the ridge with a rocket launcher. The molten spike cracked open the troopers visor as he lurched back, firing the rocket into the debris above.

Tathra turned on his heel, aureate eyes glowing in the ash and smoke as the metal gave out under its own weight. The explosion had shook something loose, or so it seemed. The wreckage of the ship came crashing down as he broke into a sprint, darting out of the way as the debris came crashing down - taking the Risen on his back by the collar of his armour as he leapt from the crashing ship wreckage. A puff of ash and smoke cut through the fire to make a layered smog of smoke and dead skin that filled the trench.

The Risen struggled to his feet, yanked to them by the Titan as he rose. They couldn’t see even a few inches in front of themselves. The thick yellow air supplanted any vision bar for the quiet footsteps only trained ears could hear.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Two

Tirran was a Warlock, a competent but inexperienced one. Galak had begun integrating the different forces under his command into teams, he imagined it would help them become better leaders or make better leaders appear from among them.

He still loved black columns of Juggernauts assaulting anything and everything but after Nar Kreeta, running with the 10th Regiment would never feel the same again.

And as a Warlord, he could make his own rules. Even if he never would say no to Tathra’s call to War, he personally could attend to his own systems whilst sending his forces to aid the Titan. He had the choice, but whenever the father of his kind called - he always took up arms. That was the way of the Draelvasier, to fight even when one did not have to.

To seek strength, even when one did not have to. That was why he admired Tirran. The Warlock was inexperienced but had chosen to fight with Galak’s unit, the standards were high and the going got tough.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 2

The Primarch continued forward, marching in the rhythm of the tip tap of his Staff against the floor. His force energy was rejuvenated by the draining of lifeforms. It filled the Primarch with adrenaline, a surge of energy that made him feel alive. Their remains were husk-like and deformed, broken. That was the price for their weakness. The weak deserved no better than to die to a swift torment. Of course, it was slow when compared to the haste of a blade; but it served him well.

More soldiers fired at him, the Primarch raised a force barrier to block their blaster bolts as the Zealots right of him quickly dispatched the soldiers. From the landing Gunboats came a multitude of Drones; quickly they were overrun and their defenders outmatched. The Drones rushed the civilians and some didn't even use their rifles, but tore with clawed hand and razor sharp teeth into the helpless civilians. He could feel the death all around him, it was power. He fed off of it, allowing their fear to strengthen his power.

Moving toward one of the shuttles, Drek'ma used the force to disrupt the technologies of the shuttle - forcing its bay-doors to remain open. Those inside looked on in confused horror as the Primarch simply stared at them, waiting for the Drones. A woman inside screamed, grasping her child close to her chest as a trio of Drones ran into the shuttle, littering every inch of it with Spike rounds, crushing the Sith troopers in the way underfoot.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Three

“We have company.” Tathra growled, taking the Axe into a two-handed grasp as two red blades ignited. The Risen couldn’t tell species nor size amidst the all consuming yellow vapour. But there was one thing he knew for sure, they were Sith. The Risen raised its rifle, ready to fight as three other blades ignited - their features shimmering as what little light made it through was reflected from their silhouettes.

Assassins.

Tathra on the other hand was still surprised there were even Sith left on the planet to fight. But perhaps they had simply been waiting for their opportunity to kill him. If they wanted his life so bad, they’d have to take it. His eyes flickered, iris changing in size and shape as his vision warped to track the beat of their hearts with a dim green glow. He could see them, well enough to kill them.

“Here for me?” He barked into the ash at the various crimson blades hanging in the vapour. He could see the speed of their hearts, a few growing faster as their grips on their weapons tightened - breathing harder now. Fear was part of being a warrior, fear was why they were here. The Sith were scared of him, even the most desperate of them still wanted to save those who had left them behind.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Three

But all the same, the young Warlock had chosen to take on a challenge when he didn’t have to. That had them already starting off on good footing. The Warlord was joined by a troupe of Drones, gathering at the base of the rubble-thick valley that sat before the bell tower where the mortar was.

“Warlock, keep their blasters away from the Drones and they’ll put down the enemies as they come!” Galak barked, grasping the Warlock;s shoulder as the Drones split between them as Sith troopers came pouring out from the gaps. They were trying to flank them, last ditch effort he supposed.

Bullets rattled out from the Triad, firing from the hip as the hot weapon sent vibrations through is arm;s - splattering the Sith as they rushed for new cover to stem the approach of the Drones. Galak moved like a tank, crushing the rubble underfoot as his slow armoured approach kept the Sith on the backfoot.

On the other side, the Drones acted as they usually did - Carbines at the hand as they followed their respective leader. Those at his side held a steady pace as well, firing at the cubbyholes the Sith were firing from.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 3

With the arrival of their Drones, there would be no place for them to hide. Those who had deigned to escape the coming fire would burn, all would burn. Pammant was on the precipice, all that remained for these creatures was a delusional hope. One managed to run from the Drones within the shuttle, sprinting out and stopping to gaze at the Primarch. Drek'ma made no immediate response as the man turned to run away.

When a Drone returned from the shuttle to pursue, Drek'ma waved him off - slowly following the man.

"There is no hope. It is... better this way." Drek'ma spoke in what he understood to be the native human tongue, he hoped this truth would calm the man as the Primarch reached out, his thoughts became the mans.

The human male seemed to understand what was being said, but perhaps he could not comprehend its meaning. Even when faced with the truth, these creatures could do nought but bury their heads in the sand.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Four

They all stood at a near equal distance to him, two to his right and two to his left with one standing above them on the crest of the trench exterior. Tathra released the Axe into his dominant paw, held low on his left side as he targeted the two to his right. Cloaked or not, the Axe acted on the Titan’s will as the red energy tugged on the Assassins, pulling them down as the other three sprung to action.

The Risen fired off a single round into one of the immobile Assassin’s head as the other rose, cutting the Carbine held by the Risen in two. The scorched end of the barrel lit up with embers, momentarily blinding both as the Risen retreated with Kukri in hand just in time to bring against the next attack of the Assassin. Tathra struck upward at the sky above, next releasing a wave of red energy in the direction of the lone Sith top-side, bringing the Axe in front of himself as it swung into his right paw.

Fingers grasped and manipulated the weapon as the two Sith drew close, blocking the first strike with the downward facing edge of the Axe’s blade as he pummeled the Sith into his compatriot, catching the twin red blades in the hook of the Axe. His left hand relinquished grasp of the shaft, shooting outward as an open palm. The Assassin’s chest caved inward as the body shot into the rock of the trench interior, crashing down its wall with torn ragged cloth as the red Saber fell into the hands of the second Assassin as she dove low, slashing with both blades at his ankles.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Four

Those by Tirran followed as he gave the Sith a wide berth at first, leaping in from the side with the enhanced agility of a force user with a blade in one hand, pulverising in the other. The trooper he fired slumped against the wall of duracrete as the pulverising shot cracked open the back of his helmet.

The jaw of the mask falling from the concave helm as the body slid onto its calves and crashed into the ground. The Drones at his side followed his example, charging over and around cover and pumping the Sith full of superheated lead.

“Go! Move you scum!” Galak growled as the Drones rushed from his side into the turned-about troopers.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: One

Keldothera felt her throat tighten unnaturally, cheeks bulging with what little air was left as she squinted in the vague direction of her opponent. A black gloved hand was out stretched from the blurred silhouette of the crimson saber wielding opponent.

A sith, obviously but one capable of snapping her airway shut was not something she had the most experience with. Though that seemed as though it was about to change.

Instincts and training kicked in as she threw a grenade from her satchel, vaguely in the direction of the Sith. The explosive cut through the air, throwing off his concentration as Keldothera gasped for air.

She quickly took her Kraker up from the ground, firing the explosive projectiles right at the feet of the Sith - the explosive’s kinetic force was more useful than the actual explosion. Knocking the Sith back several feet.

 

[Osam]

Objective: B
Post: One

The vessel was truly massive if one were to exclusively take notice of its size, but some aspect of its glory was lost upon a second glance. Large chunks seemed to have been torn away from its sides, exposing pre-built maintenance shafts and loose pieces of scaffolding that had detached with the starship's sudden launch. It had ripped these umbilical cords out when it had escaped from its metal womb, thrust forth into the void in a frantic and desperate attempt at survival.

Osam could not understand how anyone was even alive within the starship. Perhaps there were portions of it that had not been totally decompressed upon its escape from the shipyard, but even then the immense cold must've been uncomfortable at best. With the ship being so poorly constructed, he could not imagine any sort of thermal regulation was keeping pace with the vast holes which appeared throughout the hull, siphoning away whatever warmth had been stolen upon its launch.

Perhaps some portion of warmth might be transferred from the tendrils of the Debaucher upon its latching, thought the Risen as the mighty vessel was stricken by the boarding creature. They'd need to be careful disembarking into the mighty half-vessel, and guaranteeing that they were not sucked out into the vacuum, but one thing was certain - by the end of their trip, there would be no reason for life to exist any longer within the leviathan's belly.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Posts: 4

"Face me." Drek'ma commanded and the human obeyed, turning around. The fear was plain on his face.

He almost pitied him, it was like observing a babe born into a world of dark who did not quite understand yet that they could not exercise any free will other than to scream and protest. But even then, the telepathic domination stopped that from happening.

"You will die, as a child of Khaeus. Your death will serve our cause." The Shaman placed his hand on the head of the male, leeching his life away from him in a few moments. His body fell limp, sullen and broken.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Five

“Tirran, around the back with the Drones. We’ll hit them from both sides.” Galak called, stomping across the field; shrugging off blaster fire against his heavy plated breastplate. The Triad rattled in his hands as hundreds of spike bullets jetted out from the weapon in seconds, causing the walls of the belltower to crumble around the Sith retreated further inward.

A large section of wall crumbled as dozens ran, cut down as the Triad was trailed from left to right. Their plasteel/durasteel armor was not able to withstand the sheer kinetic force of the Triad’s out post. To be fair, neither were the walls.

That was when Tirran and the Drones came from the other side, bursting in from adjacent doorways. One had been rigged to blow by the Sith, knocking the Warlock back several feet. Galak couldn’t tell if he was dead, not yet.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: Two

She quickly took her Kraker up from the ground, firing the explosive projectiles right at the feet of the Sith - the explosive’s kinetic force was more useful than the actual explosion. Knocking the Sith back several feet.

Best thing to do against Force Users, keep them on their toes. Keldothera raised her wrist to her mouth, speaking into the stone.

“Sith on my position.” Quickly slinging the Kraker over her shoulder as she took her Carbine into hand, ready to open fire.

It had become the operating staple to call in when Sith were sighted during the campaign. They were very rarely ever alone, it seemed anyone who was carrying a saber had a carall of troopers behind them. Gunboats en route, and she wasn’t wrong.

From every side of the facility, blaster fire came from black shadows. The Sith had used himself as bait, an odd tactic - normally it was the other way round. Kelda dropped two as they pushed her, each taking several shots to the chest and head before going down.

 

[Galak]

Objective: A
Post: Six

But he didn’t have the luxury of hiding out just yet, turning into the lower half of the building with the rest of the Drones as his eyes grew wider, his skin a shade paler as the suicidal trap became obvious. It had been a lure, the troopers were planning to bring them all down with them and had brought the mortar into the lower half of the building and they did exactly what he expected.

The Warlord managed off one or two shots as the mortars fired into the fragile ceiling. In seconds, metric tons of rubble, duracrete and metal scrap came crashing down on everyone in the room. He managed to move a few feet before the entire building crumbled down on top of them.

A swift darkness took over for a few moments, or what seemed like moments as Galak woke to the sounds of combat. Tirran had survived it seemed, and was fighting off a Sith. A Drael staff against a crimson saber, harsh blows struck by each as the remainder of the Drones fought the emerging Sith troopers.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Objective: A
Post: Five

Tathra drove the Axe into the ground, colliding with the blades as the Axe pierced the ground. Turning his hand upward, he used it to propel his knee forward, her right arm bent inward as the metal guard of his leg crushed her side - knocking her hard into the ground in a blur of motion, her own saber falling on the ground under the Titan’s feet.

Behind him, the Risen and Assassin had continued to fight - but the Srael was outmatched and wounded. The kukri was knocked from his grasp as the Assassin delivered an upright kick to the throat, staggering the Risen before thrusting to plunge the saber into the Risen’s stomach. Driving him into the wall, Tathra ripped the Axe from the ground as he turned into a downward swing. Crushing the Sith into the earth below, joining the layers of debris and corpse turned sludge that made up the trench.

The last two came from opposite angles, one limping with one arm working. The other wall running from the edge of the trench that had collapsed when the Titan’ fired upon it. The Axe crashed into the ground as the two Assassins approached, a kinetic wave shaking the trench as the red wave crashed upward like water beating against the rocks of the shore. The sith running the trench edge was thrown off, forced to cut their sprint short as they leapt with one leg from the trench wall above and over Tathra.

 

[Keldothera]

Objective: C
Post: Three

It seemed as those this Sith had already killed their supposed prisoners, the notion of retrieving the Zealots was the first bait and now the Sith used himself. Cunning, or perhaps desperate. Keldothera.

She managed to move from cover to cover, only seconds allotted as plasma fire threw her across the length of the broken room into a half-buried pillar, crashing through it as her reinforcements arrived to support her.

"The Zealots are dead, I repeat the Zealots are dead. Prepare for Ra'mak overhead support. All forces in the vicinity, incremental push-off!" Kelda roared over the gunfire at her gauntleted communication stone.