Private We Share This Meal

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Kyrel Ren​

The cracking of bones, the burning of flesh were the two main sounds and views he turned away from. Siqsâur was hungry after the ... well, it was an insult to call it a fight. The people of this place were not warriors, farmers and merchants, not more. They grew fond of their calm life, enjoying their comfort and exchange with the occasional off-world trader, making them thrilled by the news of the grand galaxy.

But this time it was not a commerce ship which jumped out of hyperspace, The Traveller appeared in an eruption of real space energies spitting out a large warship of a yet unknown class. Without warning and without apparent reason it moved through the silence of the vaccuum, straight for the small inhabited moon. No contact was made with the ship, no hailing answered, it was a silent shadow creeping up on the rather primitive sensors of the locals. They had heard the stories of marauding warbands killing for fun and searched for shelter, abandoning their settlements and moving to hideouts nearby, ignorant of the fact that the arrivals might possess the abilities to track. This way they were at least neatly packed like cattle . . . .

Those who dared to risk a glance at the black and red hulled ship when it entered the upper atmosphere would stand in awe for a moments as it just seemed to hang there, unmoved and they already wanted to inhale for a relieving exhale when the bowels of the ship opened and spit out beasts which could only originate in a nightmare. Demons descended onto the world on waves of fire and bone-shivering screams.

The Fell had come and it was hungry.






Unknown to both the locals and the arrivals - there were more, a second ship had entered the system, even more silently.

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[Kyrel Ren]

The Maw had often heard stories. Of a time before the arrival brought on by the Heathen Priests of a similar group of people. The Bryn’adul were ferocious beasts of unknown origin. Like the Maw they believed the galaxy must be cleansed and before the Maw’s arrival they had exterminated a few races, while the Maw themselves had destroyed entire worlds. Only many didn’t think that much of the Bryn existed they would learn that today only a few remain within such ranks.

The world the warships would arrive over was one of many worlds that had been ripe for the taking, yet the Maw didn’t dare suffer rivals. Aboard the massive Star destroyer stood the hulking form of Kyrel Ren. He eyed the starship in front of him closely. There was silence between the ships, as if one simply waited for the other to give In to sizing one another up. Kyrel would watch through the hexagonal shaped windows of the Star Destroyers bridge watching as his fingers clenched into a fist on the sight of beasts dripping from the warship.

“Well, this is unexpected but not unwelcome.” He would say pensively as he studied the warship in front of him. “Shall I open fire my Wrath?” The bone covered Commander Grodd would ask Kyrel. He held up his hand open palmed staring at the Devourer’s commander. “They won’t be necessary… Deploy landing craft perhaps let us see if the Maw have surpassed their predecessors.” He said revealing that he recognized the fabled markings.

“R-right away my Wrath.” Grodd said placing in a few buttons on his datapad. Soon Kyrel would find himself walking away from the bridge in a brisk stride. The importance of the day was not to seek out murder and plunder but to test these new arrivals. If it had all worked perhaps Kyrel would meet whoever was behind this. He would think to himself in the turbo lift ride down to the hanger. Soon the hulking brute would fall behind stormtroopers covered in bone, furs, and blood all eager to slay anyone in their way.

Warmaster Nyâsh

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Kyrel Ren
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The horde that left the ship was not aware of additional arrivals and would proceed with its planetfall. Swarms of Draeyde, massive Ra'maks with hordes of Marskha Warriors, as well as Drael Juggernauts and Zealots riding on them left the hull of the warship. Leading the descend were two massive Marskhahir and a Tectâr which carried Warmaster Nyâsh himself. There was no formation or tactic in the assault, they were heading straight for the surface, not concentrated or cohesive, it was wild swarm seeking to satisfy their hunger.

Nyâsh was informed through the ships systems that The Traveller had spotted other warships entering the system. That was unlucky, The Traveller was alone with its intestants basically pouring out, but the Warmaster paid little heed to it. Its done. A new ship could be found if it came to that, but first he was safe and was curious who the arrivals were. Maybe this day could get more interesting than collecting their liquid tribute.

With a fanged smile below his helmet he pointed Nâzgâsh towards the surface and a howling, screaming of ecstasy responded as his horde followed him into murder.

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The bridge of the traveller was for an outsider like the interior of a torture chamber located deep inside a volcano. It was hot, seethingly hot, smelled of sweet decay and rotten blood and aside from the tectonic rumoring of the ship itself, it was silent as the grave.

All crew members were not working at their stations or exchanging words of information - they were their stations, beasts and man molten into technology, becoming one while retaining a very few features of their original bodies and shapes. They were operating the systems through mind control, the organic matter of the ship responding to their requests, all being part of one bigger being which was The Traveller.

The battleship was to make ready for battle and leave the upper atmosphere immediatly. It closed its hangars with doors, muscles and bone structure as it fired up its pink engines to push it forward and upward. Its partly organic hull pulsating has it felt the increasing readiness for battle, readying to unleash whatever hell it held ready for their possible opponents.
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[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel hadn't thought that any trace of the Bryn'adul remained. They were useful as a lightning rod to distract away the attention of the Jedi, Sith, all of the galaxy as the Maw were preparing to reveal themselves from the Unknown Regions. By the time the Bryn had collapsed the Maw were already making early raids on Jakku, Batuu, and later would emerge fully as a group of tribes determined to wage war on the galaxy. Instead it seemed like insects they weren't all gone if only surviving units scattered throughout the galaxy it seemed that they were desperate for raids and plunder as the Maw had been so recently wrapped up in trying to hold the war machine together.

All that mattered to the Maw's Wrath was gaining the resources needed to keep the war effort moving. The last thing he needed to deal with was remnants of a dying civilization that had acted like mindless beats, and still he only wondered if that's what the Bryn had always been. While the Maw themselves find that they were acting simply out of divine guidance and adherence to a guide that had abhorred all that both Jedi and Sith had done. The landing craft would blaze a path through the atmosphere and if one could hear it they would hear the sound of a war horn. A sign given that the Maw's raids were imminent and those that did not shelter themselves from the Maw's Wrath would find themselves in worse spots than they had before.

The landing craft would start to depart on the outside of a village, what came was the horde of barbaric stormtroopers. Wielding blaster, and rusty blades alike. The cannibal troopers started to venture out quickly while Kyrel would slowly fall behind. He could see that the worse monstrosities of the Bryn were on the other side. The Maw didn't possess such massive beasts but they had numbers to swarm the enemy. With his spear the Hunger in his hand, and his saber in the other Kyrel would begin a slow march on a path paved with both blood and screams. Waiting to see what would come to greet him on the other side of the raid.

Meanwhile in the space above. The Devourer would keep an eye on the Traveller. Neither side seeming to fire a single shot just yet. Commander Grodd would watch cautiously what would the beast do against the pride of dark and Imperial science alike. This had seemed to be a test of strength and barbarism between the two forces. It all now depended on what the leaders would do, and if the Maw and Bryn would meet each other in bloody combat as the Devourer held position. It's weapons armed and ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Warmaster Nyâsh

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

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With the sounds of clashing iron and mud, Juggernauts and Erevosian warriors alike jumped off their beasts and set foot onto the planet. Growing with every moment, a horde of various origins and species gathered, hissing, screaming and growling at the possible opposition forming at the other side of the village. Blades were crashed against shields, strong fists were slammed onto body armor. It was quite the barbarian view, but it had a feeling of menace, of primordial violence. Of Bogan.

The last three which landed were obviously leaders. First two large crimson skinned, winged Marskhahir landed, their large boney blades lose in their hands, swinging around, offering challenging grimaces, spreading their large wings to bolster up their size, showing off. Their teeth-filled maws bared, a certain intelligence blinking in their demonic eyes.

The last to land send a shiver through the nearby earth, the vulcanic demon hit the ground like a meteor, its heat and flames scorching the earth around. On its back was riding an individual clad in dark armor, large, massive with a blade strapped to his back and a large warmace in his hand. As the Tectar made a single step towards the other side, the mass behind nearly snapped, but something held them back.

Nyâsh jumped off his mount, another soundful impact before he slowly stepped towards Kyrel Ren . He held his warhorde back for as long as necessary, the other raiders may make the first step into the village, but for sure would not taste the last bit of blood.

"Welcome to the feast. Who desires a place at my table, who wants piece of our meal?" The Warmaster has a deep, guttural voice and speaking ur-Kittât with a serious accent, but flawless grammar.

Up in the skies The Traveller started to disappear into the vaccuum, a place better suited if battle should take place.

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[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel watched with a growl as his own men started to chant "War, Death, Rebirth." The Mawite mantra into the air as fires started to roar around. The Stormtroopers were barbaric, and even a tad bit feral as they started to assault settlement of bystanders who had until this moment seemed all but blissfully unaware of what they were dealing with. Now they seemed to face death on all sides coming from one side and the other. Kyrel was hardly one to share anything when it came to claiming what the Maw viewed as whatever they could claim be it people, resources, anything that would benefit the Maw in the divine crusade they continued to hold against the rest of the galaxy.

He advanced, and soon his undead visage was greeted by the sight of hulking warbeasts of the Bryn. Creatures he once thought to be long gone, and soon he faced down what looked to be an armored figure. Standing nearly as tall as he was. Accompanied by a group of his Stormtroopers that stood behind him all the while the sounds of screams, and bloodshed could be heard in the background. Kyrel would eye him up and down, and his face turned to one of disgust. Whoever the armored figure in front of him is, or was he stood on what he though was rightfully was. The World Eater wouldn't be denied of any gains to be made.

The armored figure spoke in the Sith tongue. The way the darkened speech had echoed with a loud boom would make the trees around them sway and shake. He spoke to Kyrel as if proposing an offer to which came a scoff from the Maw's Wrath. Gripping his spear tightly in his hands, and with the flashing of Sith runes did the undead warrior spoke. "You offer me? Do you not know who's lands you are crossing here? This is Maw space, territory that is by right mine to claim. It's people and whatever they may hide. Who are you to simply hold claim." He spoke in basic, with his rough tone rising in anger pointing his index finger towards the armored being in outrage. It seemed that Kyrel had taken offense by the offer alone.

Meanwhile the Devourer would lose sight of the Traveler, and yet remained increasingly vigilant for when it would resurface. Waiting for the moment it might strike Commander Grodd didn't dare let down his guard.

Warmaster Nyâsh

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

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"I am claiming what I can lay my hands on. I am claiming what is weaker. Unworthy." The voice barely changed when it switched to Basic, the harsh accent remained, a beastly voice echoing through the metal of his helmet.

"We take what we can, we reap and reave and dispose those who are not able to carry their pathetic lifes into the new era." He carried his mace loosely in his hand, it pointing down and seeming like it was weighing nearly nothing.

"We must feed, our bodies and forges, with flesh and fire." Nyâsh made steps to the side, actually breaking eye contact as he looked around the village. He felt the draw of the spear, the Hunger it emitted.

He turned His gaze back to Kyrel Ren . "Just like the Maw does."

His horde was growing impatient, their howls and growls were accompanied by the rattling of weapons, the hammering of fists to chest plates, the two large Marskhahir were pacing up and down, not leaving the potential enemy out of their sight.
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[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel in this moment felt as if he was slighted in this very moment. The armored figure spoke as any raiders would now he simply didn’t need permission to take what he wanted. Did he not know who he was speaking to? Was this being blind and deaf? Or was it simply the Bryn way as to not seek some sort of accord before trying to infringe on such territory. Kyrel stood before him listening closely, all the while the Master of Ren was furious beyond belief as he felt that the man was starting to cross territory he didn’t have any right to.

“Is that so?” He said his anger slowly starting to rise. The spear in his hand being gripped tightly to his own fingers as his gaze went from the armored being to the horde at his back. Kyrel was ready to strike at a moment’s notice, and yet a part of him wondered if it could be worked to his advantage as he didn’t feel like throwing his men into the fire. The silence between them only lasted for a short time in the background one could hear screams, and the roaring of fire in the midst of such tension between two warlords.

“I’ll give you one chance Warlord. Bend the knee, or I won’t hesitate to unleash my horde. If you wish to pillage on Maw lands then you must show respect… If you refuse it won’t look good for you. If anything I can always unleash hellfire from the skies.” He emphasized by pointing to the sky. Furthermore attempting to establish his place as the dominant warlord by shoving the dark spear into the ground. It would echo as it rested if to the ground, it’s Sith runes giving out a glow.

His men behind him wasted no time in trying to take what spoils belonged to them. If it were to face down the enemy horde it wouldn’t have had a problem in showing how ferocious the stormtroopers were. For now it seemed to be a contest between the two warlords, and who would give in first to such territorial claims.

Warmaster Nyâsh

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

"There is more to it, World Eater. But threatening with bombardment to subdue? That is a bit anticlimactic for someone with your reputation for it is the strength of the ship you wanna make me feel. Not yours."

He would look back at Kyrel, the spear fascinating and intriguing, but not the main interest here today. This raid indeed turned out to be much more than just that, the desire finding something much more valuable to feed on. The idea of meeting a leading member was exciting, the random chance thrilling, but chaos would always prove useful.

The provocation was obvious, the rage spreading from Kyrel Ren was obvious and Nyâsh defiance and disrespectfulness was making it go onto higher levels, intentionally. It was fueling his own passion, His greed for more strength, more power projection, but also His envy for the influence the one in front of Him held, were oil for the fire in His heart.

He would draw His sword and point the blade at the half-living, the warmace was still low in His hand and He was kinda standing sideways. A challenge.

Battle or single combat, it was an encounter of resolve and strength. A clash of the Dark for the right to dine at the high table . . . .
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[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel would clench the fist of his freehand. Here he was Warmaster of the Maw determined to take what he desired, and soon he found himself never feeling so insulted by this armored being. "If you feel that I haven't shown you the depths of terror... Allow me to correct such an error." He said his voice this time taking a loud boom that reflected his earned moniker of the World Eater. He gripped his spear tightly while several of the Crimson Hand troopers would look behind him, and wonder what would they do. Would they attack these heretical foes, or would they simply watch this contest between two barbaric warlords take place?

"I will have your tongue... Better yet I think your head on a pike will serve just as much of a warning." He would say with the black blood running down the sides of his mouth when he spoke such words. His tone was filled with rage, as the Wrath of the Maw was not content to just share. Nor did he take kindly when he had been forced to go against someone who sought the same resources. If there wasn't any greater time that he was insulted it was now.

When the being drew his sword, his grip on his own spear would tighten. The spear would let out an almost feral screech, feeling the dark side overwhelm his senses he looked upon the being ready to strike. "Allow me to teach you such manners to the Lord you dare insult." He said with the raising of his spear, and with his next move he would attempt to thrust the forked tip of the spear into the armor of the being. The Sith runes of the weapon giving a brief flash of crimson as the Master of Ren made his move.

Warmaster Nyâsh

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

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"So it shall be."

His blade came up to parry the incoming spear, pushing it away into the air. The touch felt incredible. The power of the spear was undisputable and he desired to wield it, he wanted to take it. But first he had to defeat this avatar of the Maw. Faster than the armor would make assume from outside, he was moving around to bring his mace into the game as well.

Using the warmace offensively and defending with the sword. Coming in with a heavy blow for Kyrel Ren 's head, Nyâsh would not exactly aim to kill him, even though the blow would kill most things, but it was a simple attack. He wanted to test, to see where this was going and if this man was worth submitting to for the time being.


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