[ WP ] `` I could smell the stench of death and gasoline on him . ''

Wist Nay'tu paused from where she was tinkering with the auxiliary power converter, raising her head to peer at the dozen or so beings that marched through the crowded hanger. The entire hanger gave them a wide berth, the stench of charred flesh and fuel soaked into their thick clothes. They were covered head to toe in scorched leathers and black flame retardant clothing, opaque masks hiding their faces. Tattered rags of red were worn'round their sleeves, dyed that way from the splotches of filthy white she could she. Their masks were shaped to look like melted human skulls, mismatched teeth and gaping grins smiling at the nervous crowd. Most carried wicked looking blades in scabbards tucked through belts or else sheathed at their shins. But it was the weapons they carried in their hands or else slung on their backs that caught Wist's attention, horrific looking flameweapons and disintegrators that were covered in soot and ash. 
 
 `` Terrifying, are n't they?'' Tomess Ghast asked from behind her, not a little admiration in his voice. 
 
 Wist's gaze followed those walking nightmares as they stopped and conversed amongst themselves in what she knew now was Ord Ivrish. 
 
 `` What are they?'' 
 
 `` Pyro-Drakes. An elite warrior society from Ord Ivran. For some, the option of being a khern or galloglas is not enough. For some, the hunger of battle is so great that they devote their entire lives and even souls to war. Pryo-Drakes, Death-Falcons, Thresher-Serpents, Corpse-Wolves. Fire, air, water, earth; the four elements of war. Many are born into the sects, raised from the moment of birth to be warriors of their particular style of faith. Few leave the sects though it's allowed; I've only known one person who's done so. 
 
 `` The Pyro-Drakes devote themselves to the study of fire and all its destructive power. They distill everything, wind speed, wind direction, fuel conditions and turn it into something awe-inspiring. They're tank hunters without equal, able to take down an AT-AT with the same effort it takes you to whistle.'' 
 
 Wist felt a tinge of unease ripple through her. 
 
 `` You say that as if you admire them.'' 
 
 Ghast nodded, hand drifting up towards the crystal around his neck. 
 
 `` I do. Aside from being the greatest warriors among us, they also are our protectors. While they train in their fortified monasteries, they use their knowledge to help protect villages and towns on Ord Ivran against wildfires.'' 
 
 `` So what are they doing here?'' Wist asked. 
 
 Ghast grinned, something the female Bothan learned to be wary of as it usually heralded him doing something she would not like. 
 
 `` Why, we're their transport of course.''
