Dominion The Bryn'adûl | The Savage Blur that Took Sriluur

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Six
Objective: B
Tags: @Ihopenooneisinthiscity

When the ground shook, the planet cried a drum shattering cry as the continental plates shifted, the mountain tore away from itself, burying a large portion of the city with it. A gust of wind was carried on a massive shockwave, even the Primarch could feel it from this distance.

The wind kicked up around him as he was forced back a step, the straps of his cuirass danced in the wind as he was forced to squint. He could feel the pain and suffering of those now trapped within the mountain. But, he did not understand it entirely.

As he watched Al-Hadad, it was a privilege. To watch the work of such a magnificent creature was not something he took for granted. He knew one day his time would pass, perhaps Al-Hadad would die even before then. He could not know, not entirely. Even the Seers were not so clairvoyant that they could perceive the future directly.

But it all informed his decision to simply savour the magnificence. These were unprecedented times, and to stand before the grandeur of the Titan, of great serpents? That gift was all he required.

 

[Hrajlmak'Natok]

Objective: B
Post: 6
Tags: Leknion / Osam / Sarask Hiskt / Kyrim Tenebris / Kad

__________________________________________________________________________________


The flood of drones and brutes brought the defenders to their knees in no time at all. Their minds sharp, bodies powerful. The simple Weequay and Houk stood no chance. Hrajlmak and his contingent rampaged through the defender's lines until finally being brought to a sudden stalemate just shy of the evacuation vessel. It had docked to a fueling and boarding port. The natives were putting up a tough defense at their final line. Behind them were some of the last of their species.. Their desperation was almost palpable.

The stalemate was short lived however as the ground itself gave in to the Bryn'adul's might. Many miles away, the shriek of the Great Worm tolled the annihilation of a city and the shifting of the plates underfoot. The tremor was violent - dislodging blaster turrets from their emplacements and throwing the unprepared off their feet. Hrajlmak made a sprint for the fortifications ahead, accompanied by any brute and drone that had managed to keep their footing. Many tried to scramble to their feet and repel their attackers, only to be pinned to the sands by molten spikes. Hrajlmak's run was sluggish and unstable. Ahead, a Weequay struggled to lift a blaster turret. With a momentary surge in strength to his legs, Hrajlmak spear tackled the turret and its user. He beat the leathery head into a pulp with his free hand, pushed himself to his feet and, finally within range, unleashed a torrent of crackling energy at the vessel's underbelly. Liquid metal dripped and sparks flew. Before long, the Brutes behind launched volleys of Bryn-shot. The vessel's repulsorlift's spluttered out of operation and the hope of a population came crashing into the sand.

 

[Kad]

Objective B - Planetside
Tags: Galak | Primarch Drek'ma
Post: Seven

The heat got even hotter. Gredak could swear nearly every one of them was sweating through their clothing. It was pathetic. The Zealot Elite slaughtered them with ease as they panicked, trying to assist those on the lower level getting swarmed by the Brutes. This floor was clear and the occupants of this station were dwindling in number.

It was then that Gredak noticed a half-open doorway, light shun through. It looked like a way to the outside, perhaps some had attempted to escape. Gredak quickly made his way over to the doorway, kicking it open as he ran forward; grinding to a halt at the edge of a small balcony overlooking a small ten foot drop to an interior corridor connected to the floor below.

Gredak barely heard the scrape of a foot as he turned around, he lost his footing as he was shoved off of the balcony. Gredak cried out as he rapid fired his Shredders, managing to catch his attacker in the knee, causing him to fall as well.

 

[Kyrim Tenebris]

Barriers are for those who are about to die, though Kyrim gleefully. He wanted to kill the Jedi, and to move on to a better prey, for this jedi was weak. But at the same time, all Jedi were weak. And so they must die.

With the barrier just barely glistening in front of him, the Jedi was edging backwards in an effort to escape, but to no avail. Kyrim sheathed the dagger which had been in his right hand and pounded at the barrier with a punch which gave the barrier a glassy like state as the strength behind the punch almost overpowered the strength of the Jedi's barrier.

He could not punch his way through the barrier, so instead, he wickedly cloaked himself with the Force, making himself invisible on every spectrum to everything but those pesky security cameras, and vanished abruptly from sight. The Jedi tried reaching out through the Force, sensing nothing but the killings ongoing in the surrounding station.

Over the next three minutes Kyrim stood, poised to strike as soon as he felt the barrier go down, and as the Jedi managed to backpedal to a blastdoor and get through it Kyrim followed.

As the doors closed shut he could hear the Jedi sigh loudly, as if it had just finished a dreary battle and had won. One thing was wrong in that idea. The battle was over but Kyrim had won.

And on that note Kyrim shoved his dagger through the back of the Jedi and up into its shoulder blades, lifting the Jedi up off of his feet as he breathed his last breaths in total agony as venom pierced his heart and the cold froze his lungs. The weak deserved to die.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective A – Space Station

Tags:

Post: Ten

The elevator room didn’t come directly into the control-looking room of course. There was a little hallway that the Jedi had ran down that she followed him into. He appeared injured, and she was not. She wasn’t handicapped by the lack of room anymore, and thus, the playing field was hers. Most of the people in the room appeared to not be warriors. Some had a few blasters on their person however, so she had to be quick.

She charged the Jedi, throwing her left weapon in a wide arc while gripping the chain, sending it toward the peacekeeper’s side. He blocked it with his lightsaber, but by that time she was upon him. With another kick, she threw him across the room and into the glass, cracking it a little. She grabbed two more control room staff as they drew up their holsters and threw them with all of her might, accelerating with the force toward the reeling Jedi, along with a few activated plasma grenades.

Swiftly, she used that exact same Force move to flee out of the room and shut the door behind her, hearing a few screams go suddenly silent after a vhwooshing noise, then a slam. She tentatively opened the door, and there was no one there, only the bulkheads that had slammed shut where the windows were.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Post: Seven
Objective: B
Tags: @Ihopenooneisinthiscity

When the dust settled, there was nothing left. Nothing but - ashes. Al-Hadad had came to a halt, as a black night engorged the sky. The entire mountain range had disappeared, and from all the tunnels and breaks in the crust Al-Hadad had created, it seemed as though a chasm had emerged upon his path. One that stretched for dozens of miles in both directions that came to an endless bit.

A grand emptiness filled the Primarch's eyes as he starred into the massive chasm, seeing the feint silhouette of the great serpent as it slithered deep in the planet crust. He felt a tinge? Was it fear.

He did not like it, this great silence that stretched for miles. But, this was the cost. The cost to saving the Galaxy from those who would destroy it for their own gain.

 

[Osam]

Objective: A
Post 8

Warmth from the vaporous fire of the steam licked at his chitinous form, seeping into his body like solar energy to a plant. Though it provided him no genuine benefits, it was a stark reminder of the differences between himself and his immediate kindred and of the similarities he shared with members of the Baedurin race in the process. He had been born a half-breed, and it made itself evident in circumstances such as these when the bounds of what it meant to be Sraelvun were tested to their breaking points, and the thing forged at the end of the struggle was revealed to be the greater progeny of the two.

He launched himself back into the gruesome combat with the Jedi Padawan, having regained his breath and stamina in the short interval of rest. His opponent had managed to steady his own stance, and return himself to -- it wasn't peak combative ability with the dozen wounds leaking crimson blood on the floor -- the best condition he could manage. Osam saw only in the infrared spectrum, and so he couldn't realize the paleness beginning to make itself known across the features of the Padawan as the wounds took their toll on his form, each one agitated to a greater extent by force and movement.

A slash and a counter-slash whistled through the air with the carving jingle of the kukri and the plasmatic hiss of the lightsaber. They clashed briefly with one another, the Padawan very nearly managing to catch the Risen-Srael in the wrist with his blade, but finding it parried at the last possible moment by a lucky twist of the kukri. It genuinely had been a lucky twist, an accidental motion that had followed through nigh automatically after the initial slashing motion, but it had saved him from suffering the same fate as the Primarch.

Just as it seemed the Padawan would follow up with his own blow, he paused as if frozen by an external force. It was if though the metal claw of some great carrion bird had swooped down and taken hold of his soul, locking him in his place like a statue or a corpse. Osam had seen something somewhat similar on Honoghr when there had been a sudden freeze associated with a hostile war-beast deployed by the natives or their allies, but this felt different. Had stress wrought itself through the bones of the Padawan and stopped his heart? Had he learned the savage fate of his friends and comrades in arms, that they had fallen?

Osam saw in the infrared spectrum, and so he couldn't see the tears that began to fall down the Padawan's cheeks over his fallen master, couldn't see the anguish criss-crossing his face as he reached out into the Force and felt so very very alone. Osam had been raised in war and violence and savagery, and even if his eyes could see such emotions, he probably would've only really noticed the droop that developed in the Jedi's stance, the way his saber fell slightly lower than it had before, the way it left him exposed.

He would've only seen the glare of the Kukri as it flashed, only felt his own muscles clench tightly around the blade even as it met meaty resistance, would only have noticed the extinguishing of life and saber in a fell thrust.

He'd known nothing different, and so he saw nothing different.

 

[Kad]

Post: Eight
Objective: B
Tags - N/A

Gredak fell onto his back, his upper torso half dangling off the edge. He felt his spine crack, a groan escaping him as his left Shredder fell from his hand. Feeling came back slowly as the Zealot attempted to raise his head. Gredak's enemy was already on his feet, rushing the Zealot. No doubt he wanted to kill him, throw him off the edge and watch him fall.

The Zealot quickly rushed to his feet but before he could stand fully from a hunch his enemy was on him; trying to push him off. Gredak threw all his weight forward, slamming into the Weequay. Gredak shoved his shoulder into the Weequay but his momentum was used against him, thrown to the ground by the Weequay.

Gredak felt his arm twisted as he was knocked down, his eyes grew wide with the realisation he'd been disarmed. Gredak rolled across the ground, dodging a row of Shredder bolts as he quickly darted to his feet, coming round the left side of the Weequay, throwing out a kick for the soldiers wounded leg. At the same time, receiving a bolt in his shoulder.

 

[Sarask Hiskt]

Objective A – Space Station

Tags:

Post: Eleven



And now, she was alone. In the middle of a control room of some sort, she felt the tremours striking the space station. She thought for a moment. She could try to destroy the place, but the problem was; she was still on it. She’d have to find her old fighter because even if she could fit in their evacuation pods, she was just as likely to be the casualty of friendly fire.

She walked forward, peering at each of the consoles. She could try disarming the defences. That’d make this place a sitting duck. That should do, yes. She went around looking for signs of such. Everything appeared a bit confusing. She wasn’t a battlefield commander, and she couldn’t understand what was written. She was a killer, not a button presser.

She stared at the consoles for a long while, before irritation and confusion rattled her and she began striking the consoles, the screens, whatever she could get her hands on. A part of the place was already broken a bit with the plasma grenades, so she didn’t need to worry about some of it, and in some places the windows had managed to stay unbroken. She saw a big lever, she pulled on it, then continued on. That shut off the rest of the windows in bulkheads. She stopped, before pushing it back. The bulkheads re-opened. She huffed, then went back to smashing.

 

[Primal Architect]

Bryn'adûl Victory!
​

Across Sriluur, the once stronghold of the Weequay grows quiet as nearly half a million lay dead. Sriluur has been taken, and as the corpses still lay fresh - the Bryn'adûl begin the construction of their new Super-Construct on the planet as Servitors are deployed to demolish all creations of those who came before them.

A silence takes hold of the once active planet, as those who fought, the Bryn'adûl warriors now set aside this planet and retreat to the confines of their vessels, returning to the vast void of space as they await the next genocide.

Sriluur is ours now.