Log:Tython Rangers

Tython Rangers

OOC Date: June 20, 2020
Location: Blood Gulch, Tython
Participants: Ban Iskender, Kryll Red, Nerys Arda, Aryn Cole

The squad that's been assembled, after being beckoned by the Tythonian Rangers, has been given the precise coordinates of a Flesh Raider encampment along the blood gulch canyon and rivers. A rather barren piece of land, it stands much different in both climate and scenery given the location's position to the equator of the world, a vast contrast to the otherwise forested environment that the rest of Tython was like.

Ugly brown and tan rock cliffs spike upward reaching toward the skies, with ominous clouds that flash with lightning on occasion. What was odd, considering these storms, was that in this region, there was no rain. Just the threst of it by way of the rumbling thunder and the flashy lightning. Those attuned to the Force felt a connection with this world. Deeply rooted to the force, this world had, and still was considered, a place where there was a vergeance in the Force (a nexus of force energy).

The Force, however, held no consequence to this raider encampment. The Rangers were clear in their instructions: Raiders were considered by most to be partially sentient, primitive, and dangerous. They used slugthrower rifles and massive, cleaving hunks of metal for swords and weapons. They could communicate, but they did not use basic. It was grunts, and screams, and most of the time, the only thing the raiders could convey was humor. Humor in killing mindlessly and needlessly, humor in extraordinarly violent displays, and humor in the dying of foes and friends alike. They often laughed at the anguish of others, wanting to cause more. And their intent was to make people suffer: Torture, flaying, and all manner of nasty practices were tools they used to obtain their goals, so imagine what you will, the peril this poor mother has been in.

Fast forward to the arrival of our team, comprised of all manner of warrior and philosophers alike. The encampment is ahead, a straight-forward objective, and naturally the Raiders have begun to rally at the sign of ships. Technological things like ships still amazed them, but they were no stranger to battle or war. Thousands of generations ago, the Flesh Raiders held their own against the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic. Their resiliance and tenacity for a good fight has not diminished.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Yelled a warrior from the encampment below, followed by a bunch of other screams identical to the first. "I believe they mean to attack us." Says Aryn Cole, who brushes her cape aside to unclip her lightsaber. "The Rangers did say they were eager for a fight. A shame there's no reasoning with them. We will do what we must, nevertheless."

"Well then, we may at least be direct," Ban muses on the impossibility of reasoning through the challenge ahead. Drawing his own sword, and igniting the green blade, the young nobleman in heavy pale grey armor and a decorative green half-cape regards the encampment with narrowed green eyes, searching out where he thinks a prisoner might be 'entertained'. Abruptly, the soldier flinches visibly, looking much like he'd just been stabbed in the gut. "She is alive. But.. in great anguish. That way," he indicates the general section of the camp, to aid any others in searching. "We must move quickly."

Nerys was no great warrior. Perhaps, in some circles she might be considered a philosopher. Certainly she was a woman who knew things, and who liked to know things. But she had heard the call to help and she had answered it. She'd brought the Tai in a short while before the party was due to set out, and made use of her time analyzing the environment and the weather alike. When she finally stepped out to meet the party, she had her usual armor and her Backpack of Holding, and moved to join the good Doctor as Aryn prepared herself.

A glance around the group that had gathered and she nodded, as though she were settling something in her head. "If it saves the life that we came for..." She did not finish the thought. She didn't need to. Instead, she ignored, for the moment, the sounds of the Raider's screaming, eyes narrowed as she looked down towards the camp. She nodded a second or two after Ban's statement, "She is being held in the largest tent within the camp. She is prone and does not appear to be moving."

Kryll stands nearby Aryn, his carbine at the ready. "I have not seen you so quick to that decision. However, the result is the same if it is the right one." he has already gone over his kit, but now takes his helmet from his hip and raises it up over his head to pull down and seal to his armor. <"Will we treat her on site, or exfil and provide treatment once we are gone?">

The path from the ships leads down into the gulch, where the land is flat and better suited to a battle. The whip-crack snapping of slug rounds pass by the group, some fizzing after thunking the ground, pocking up dirt and grime, while others go further and out of view. Aryn activates her own lightsaber, pressing the blue activation button to bring the curved hilt alive with a distinct snap-hiss. A brilliant sapphire blade extended to its full 1.2m length, humming idly and decorating the group, or at least those within vicinity of Dr. Cole, in a hue of blue.

"I made no such decision, master Kryll." Aryn corrects him with a neutral expression. Her free hand, which is gloved, gestures in the direction of the flesh raiders as they begin to scale the steep incline to attack. "They did. Should the impulse to reason with them still compel you, I will stay my hand and wait. However, I saw what they did to the Rangers. I've no desire to put myself at unneccessary risk. I believe the matter to be common sense. Should we all agree that this is the way, then we can move forward. If you disagree.." Aryn steps forward then. "..then stay here. I'm getting that woman out of there. I know what it's like to be a prisoner."

The advantage is to our heroes, who stand roughly 200 yards from the foot of the gulch. Flesh Raiders foolishly run toward them, slowing in fervor as the extreme incline makes them weaker with each step. That, however, does not stop their marksmen, who use long rifles stolen from other hunters they've captured.

Aryn looks to Nerys after Ban's declaration of what he felt. A silent nod is offered to Nerys, who confirms the location of the woman below. "Treatment will be dependent upon her condition. If we must treat her there, then I have brought my field pack. However, I say we should worry about the encroaching threat first.-- Captain Ban, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe we're at the advantage, presently?"

Ban Iskender nods shortly, "We are, Highness," he affirms to the current advantage, bringing his own sword up slowly to a vertical guard, with the habitual flourish of a salute added to the motion. Nerys' indication of the specific location is noted with a short nod. "I see it. Well spotted." A short exhale. "Though they are currently exercising an advantage in range, the initiative is ours, for now. Shall we, my Lady?" And with that, he starts forward.

Nerys squinted slightly, at the sapphire light that bathed her, turning her hair an odd shade of purple. Or perhaps she was only trying to limit the distractions so that she could better track the incoming raiders. Whichever it was, she did not step back, but only squeezed her hand on the grip of the baton she was wielding, the bow telescoping out into its full length, the string humming as it was energized. "I am here to extract her from her captors. I will follow your lead, Dr. Cole."

Kryll shakes his head to Aryn, <"No, discussion is not needed here. I was just making an observation that you are often not so quick to take this path. I apologize, sometimes my thoughts to words are not as clear as I would like."> he primes his weapon, loading the cell into the carbine and steps up. <"Give the word, I move with you.">

"This is not a path I want to travel, in truth; I'm afraid. Though, I've heard that bravery isn't the absence of fear, but rather, it's the will to overcome it. We move as one." Aryn says, as each confirms their committment to the mission. Nerys earns a smile, Kryll a nod, and Ban is followed. "We shall, my Lord." She replies to the Alderaanian noble.

"Be mindful, friends. We cannot deflect slug rounds. You must use cover to protect yourselves. If you require aid or assistance, call out. I suspect, Ban and I will be at the heart of this conflict." Aryn declares, before raising her own lightsaber to salute, before guiding it to her side. She held it in an elegant manner, the silver shine glinting bright from the lightning.

FLESH RAIDERS begin to close the distance to melee range, meeting our heroes just past the mid-point of the incline. Aryn begins to twist and flourish her lightsaber, briefly appearing encased by its hue of spinning blue before she runs right toward their tired rank. Meanwhile, sniper rounds pock up the dirt and rock around them. LARGE BOULDERS freckle the path way around them, providing an OPPORTUNITY for COVER. The battle has begun.

Although Nerys had brought her sword, as she always did, its hilt just peaking out over the top of her backpack, she made no attempt to draw it. Instead, she advanced with the team, moving to find a boulder to shelter behind, so that she might both protect herself, and try to pick off the snipers she could see moving through the field. This was new terrain, though, and they moved in odd ways, and her first shot flew wide of the mark.

Ban Iskender does indeed place himself at the center of the charging line of hulking flesh raiders, the armored swordsman moving in a series of deft and precise thrusts, slashes and parries, though for their limited sentience, these opponents have excellent instincts, and two of the targeted raiders evade or dodge back from his attacks, leaving only one to fall before the knight.

Kryll nods as the group decides to advance, and he advances with them, though perhaps not as fast. He starts walking forward, a steady pace as he levels his carbine and tracks the raider shooters. He fires two red bolts downrange, the first misses high, but he adjusts and the second scores a solid hit center mass to the shooter's torso. His breath remains steady as the force users rush forward ahead of him, and he attempts to support their push.

Aryn witnesses, first hand, why the Flesh Raiders were so resilient against the Jedi Knights of old. Despite a concerted effort to strike them amidst the chaos, they were ever mindful of her movements and dodged.

This was not a trait that was one sided though, because Aryn, in turn, had to move away from harm in the heat of the exchange. Ducking, dipping, dodging, and even dancing back to avoid a whistling swing from a hunk of metal, the small blonde was kept on her toes as she did her level best to keep the brawlers occupied so their squad could engage the marksmen.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Screamed one Flesh Raider, then the others screamed too, reigniting their fire to fight. One dies, and several laugh at its anguish and pain, and the sight of the fat fleshy thing tumbling back down the hill after being struck by Ban.

A markman down below is the source of humor for the snipers, after being tagged by Kryll and dancing a bit from the pain of taking a bolt to the muscular chest. " **ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR** ", was his response to the chuckles and laughter.

Ban Iskender defends himself skillfully from the press of blade and bludgeon wielding raiders, either avoiding the hewing slashes, one- in on case- slashing a scavenged scrap sword blade in half. Yet at least one shot lands, one of the captured slugthrowers thuds into the gentleman's armor, staggering him for a moment. The stout breastplate bore the worst of it, and the young soldier resumes his attack, driving a pair of raiders a step back with thrusts of his sword, before- in the third pass- he cuts to the side and gives their savage foes another cause to laugh at the demise of one of their own.

Nerys, as soon as she too the shot, cursed, though in amongst all of the screaming and laughing, what she actually said did not make it much past where she was hunkered down, a grimace crossing her expression. She caught sight of one of the slug rounds passing to the left of her rock, and she grimaced, pulling her backpack around to switch out her weapon. She had tried to do things the nice way, hadn't she?

Kryll continues his advance, firing two more bolts downrange, focusing on another active shooter. His first bolt connects with a tearer's torso, not putting them out of the fight but perhaps causing further disturbance to the others.

Still at the heart of the melee, Aryn, Ban, and their attackers, have stirred up a ton of dust with all the heaving, swinging, and fast stepping. It is utter chaos there that's parted when a blue blade impales one large Raider through the chest and sticks out of his back. Aryn yells as she shoves him off the blade to tumble down the slope, prompting the laughter of his companions. Unable to truly take in the scene, Aryn has the urge to duck, then tumble, before the caped Jedi has disappeared into the melee once again.

Raiders shoot back, but another from their rank is struck and is carried back by the impact. He lumbers over to one side clutching his chest, while his companions (including the one that was just shot) laughs at his anguish and pain.

"Well, they are at least consistent," Ban observes with a dry tone as the flesh raiders find humor in their own suffering. Evading several blows that would have crushed his ribcage had he been struck, Ban slashes through an axe haft and the axe-wielder behind it in one cut, then thrusts obliquely at another, neatly skewering it sideways through the eyestalks, before a third ducks out of his reach.

Nerys shifted behind her boulder, thanking what lucky stars existed in the galaxy that it was large enough to hide her from view. She secured her bow, the frame retracting back into its baton form, before she pulled open the front flap of her backpack and withdrew her bowcaster. She peeked her head out, aiming and firing at one of the wounded marksmen. There was no visual difference, really. It was still a red bolt that exploded against the Flesh Raider, tumbling his body down dead to the base of the incline his fellows had crawled up.

Kryll fires another pair of shots downrange, this time both miss and he tilts his head ever so slightly, though does not pause in his advance. That is all the time he has to reflect on the fact that his accuracy is suffering during this engagement. Step after step forward, and he is almost in the melee at this point.

Aryn lops off the edge of a hunky metal sword before slashing a raider clean across its chest. The passage of her blade concludes when the ashen explosion of blood embers in the wake of his fall and her swing. Aryn back tracks, ducking a series of swings and attempts at her life, swinging again to no avail. In retreating slightly, she lunges into a shorter Raider and sinks her blade into its chest, twisting elegantly about like a dance to us the momentum of her weight to orient his body off the end of her blade without making a proper mess of body parts. She did not butcher; this was the mark of someone who had mastered the use of a lightsaber.

FLESH RAIDERS were dwindling in numbers as more had fallen to the Jedi, and others to the ranged fire from the Ranger squad. Not intelligent enough to decide it was time for retreat, they push the fight thinking their resilience would be enough to persevere.

Ban Iskender has attracted the majority of the remaining chop-inclined raiders, and in the course of evading and parrying, the soldier cuts cleanly through the arm and torso of an overextended raider. "I daresay finding humor in the end of your fellows makes for poor strategy," he observes in the wake of bowcaster and carbine further eroding the enemy ranks. "Casualties providing further cause to remain and absorb further casualties, and so forth." As Aryn cuts down the last three of the nearest raiders, he voices, "Mm. Magnificent blade work, your Highness. Let us advance in haste and secure who we came for."

Nerys, while she was happy to see one less raider shooting up at her position, was not quick enough to duck behind her little boulder. Or perhaps the raider was just tracking her as she was tracking them, and one of the slugs made it past her fortress of stone, the round hitting her square in the chest. The force of it nearly tumbled her back, and brought another curse as it dented her armor, but she managed to keep herself upright, and squared up to return fire. She went for the easy kill, because of course she did, and the second of the injured raiders went down to join his dearly departed fellow.

Kryll pauses at the range he's at, and lines up another shooter. He takes aim and the first bolt goes through the tearer's chest, putting them down and out. He tracks to another target, but that shot goes wide. He considers changing weapons to engage in melee, but knows better than getting to close melee when lightsabers are in play.

Aryn backtracks before squaring up with three opponents. Twisting to one side, she avoids an attack which exposed its wielder to attack. He and his companion are cut down when Aryn drags her blade horizontally in a single pass that seemed pre-emptive. Like her successful swing from before, the pass of her blade prompts the sudden manifestation of embering blood that flakes to ash in the wake of two raiders crumbling. The final melee combatant was quickly dealt with as he raised his weapon to slash, Aryn stepped into his range and plunged her weapon into the meat of his chest with a smooth and precise lunge that was announced by the loud, gravel-sliding sound of her boots on the ground. She withdrew her weapon to allow the combatant to fall before she moved forward.

What was left of the raiders had been reduced to three shooters. Three shooters that saw the death of all their companions, and the approaching doom that awaited them should they linger.

They lingered. Electing to toss away their rifles, they draw their melee weapons and charge as our heroes make it to the foot of the slope and the mouth of the small camp.

"Thank you, Lord Ban. Lead us in, sir." Aryn offers, gesturing with her gloved off hand toward the remaining flesh raiders that madly charged their position. Turning slightly, she initiated her salute once more, and flourished the weapon back to her side, prepared to engage them, should they make it to her.

"As your Highness commands," Ban answers with a dip of his head and shoulders before resuming the final charge. The noble Jedi cuts down a pair in the opening flurry, before finding the last opponent much more formidable.

It really was a sight to see Jedi at work. And even in the midst of battle, it was something that Nerys could appreciate. Not that she had much time to, as the battle continued, despite the reduced numbers. Seeing the raiders throw down their weapons and rush in to charge the two nobles. She frowned, taking an extra second to aim. But the two friendly fighters were too close, and she pulled her fire at the last minute, the bolt going wide. As soon as she saw that the field was clear, she put away her weapons, drawing her sword, if only to help create a sledge to transport the woman, keeping low as she moved to join the team.

Kryll watches as the last few tearers are cut down, but one makes it through. He snapfires and hits the hostile in the left arm, staggering him but not putting him down. The second shot goes wide, and then the others engage; he waits for a clean shot, but clearly that is not needed as its almost quickly cut down by the others. <"Hostiles down, no active shooters. Setting a perimeter."> he uses his jetpack to lift himself up to high ground, and watch out for anyone else who may be a threat to the rescue operation.

And so concluded the skirmish of Blood Gulch. Where our heroes were able to successfully extract a helpless mother from the nefarious clutches of the Flesh Raiders. She was taken back to Kalikori City, where she's expected to make a full recovery.

For their heroic efforts on behalf of the Tython Rangers, each member of the team was deputized an honorary Ranger, and cherished as friend and ally to the Kalikori people. A badge was given to each, to display and use as they saw fit, as symbol of their new, honorary office.