He awoke with a start as the Warlord pounded on his door. "Ciylo, Move your ass. We have arrived," he yelled. Replacing his mask and clipping his sabre he grunted as his stiff joints moved him awkwardly towards the door as quickly as they could. A side thought to himself, wishing he were thin and agile like the rest of the disciples instead of built like a tree trunk (he would work on that when he returned from battle) he opened the door and dropped to his knee in apology, head bowed low. Marca snorted, displeased, and motioned for him to follow. Rage was with him and offered a smirk as Ciylo strode past him. The ships had landed on the planet and the army was quickly congregating outside, awaiting Marcas' instruction.
Standing behind him, Ciylo listened as the Warlords command rang out across the sandy plain.
"Find him, and destroy everything and everyone in your path." The army of disciples, male, female and every species in between began to fan out into a large single line. Shoulder to shoulder they marched, tense and alert, eyes scanning the horizon. The Warlord, Ciylo and Rage tailed them. Ciylo smiled beneath his mask at the awesome force. Each disciple adorning a black cloak and hood, the black, blue and red sabre's lighting the suns disappearance as it sunk away was truly a terrifying sight to behold.