BZPRPG - Ko-Wahi

[Vezok's Friend]

OOC: I'm writing this mostly from memory as I don't have enough time to research all the details as usual, so if there are minor continuity hiccups, let me know.

 

IC:

 

As Sulov entered the captain's office, the Toa Maru of water hung back, waiting outside in the hallway, but still within earshot. The way this Koro operated now she deemed it wiser to split the task of asking the question up between the Maru. She was certain word of whatever action they took while here would find its way back to Ambages sooner or later anyway. Before her inner eye, she saw the vizier appear sitting on Matoro's seat, like a Fikou in the middle of its web. Tug on a string and it would know. Tug on several and might come looking. Start destroying the web and it might go into hiding until the danger has passed.

 

She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and rubbing the bridge of her nose, thinking about the next step of their plan. A silly thought crossed her head: Of course, it would be easiest to bust in and make an open accusation, but with nothing to go on as proof, almost literally, it could easily be put down with claims of being overly zealous. That was something they needed to avoid as much as possible.

 

Before she could further think about such folly. Sulov returned. "He's in?" she asked. He nodded.

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea / Nero ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

The Axe loped easily on, not bothering to look back. He knew Rhea well enough to trust that she would catch his intentions and follow with all due haste, and he didn't really care at all what Ferron did.

The wind dropped, wavered, gusted again with redoubled force. Powdery snow hissed against his studded leather armor, slicing through chinks to the heavy cloth beneath.

---

"Tragic understatement." spat Rhea, biting back a curse. The storms had to hit now, of all times... in the middle of a hunt, and with a heat-loving elemental right smack-dab in their crosshairs. Blast it. "Come on!"

She headed after Nero, half-jogging, half-bounding through the knee-high snowbanks.

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

More than anything else, Ferron waded through the snow as he followed behind Rhea, the ice winds lashing against him as if trying to test him, he did not disappoint.

 

His long legs made long streaks in the snow that were soon covered by the blowing ice and his footsteps might just as well not have been there at all. He couldn't help but chuckle harshly at the symbolism. This quest that to him seemed so momentous, was in the grand scheme of things not all that important after all.

 

It did not, could not, matter. It was a mission he intended to see through.

 

He picked up his pace as he struggled after Rhea.

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: Lana

 

Lana didn't like thinking about Braen's friends for any real lenght of time, and standing there waiting for them to show up whenever didn't appeal to her.

 

"So..." Lana said suddenly, turning to look at Braen. "What shall we do while we wait for them?" She couldn't help the smile that began to grow on her face.

 

IC: (Braen)

 

"What do you want to do?" Braen smirked, rubbing Lana's cheek as she smirked at him, he had a few things in mind, but he'd rather hear what she was thinking, distinctive orange eyes, not a color he often saw, but a beautiful and unique color nonetheless. She could be so cuddly and yet if she wanted she could easily break his spine similar to how you break a stick over your knee. Of course Lana had no real reason for Braen had saved her. The pieces needed to be moved into place, information needed to be gathered, but Lana...she was distracting, and it was so very hard for the Vortixx to keep his mind on his "noble" pursuits.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

Korero mouth slowly curved into a roguish smile, despite the seriousness of his investigation. He understood the draw of the Hiko, and the thrill - every Jump was still as exhilarating as the first.

 

"Where d'you wanna go?"

[Snelly]

IC: Lana

 

"Well..." Lana began, thinking it over carefully. Her face practically lit up when she came to a final decision.

 

"I'm thinking of words that start with the letter 'C'...like couch, and cuddling..." She paused, looking like she was thinking overtime. "Oh! And caressing...I like that word."

Edited February 8, 2014 by Yoko Littner

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: The idea of going anywhere excited Jaa beyond belief and his mind eagerly fluttered through all the possibilities. Thankfully, he wasn't dumbed by options and quickly came up with an answer. "I've always wanted to see Naho Bay and just dip into the warm waters, if only for a moment! If it's not too much to ask, please take me there and we can talk there, too!"

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

With Jaa's words, a thought stirred the waters of Korero's mind. The scribe seemed perfectly sincere, and yet his words...he had asked for this out of the blue, in the middle of a serious investigation. Which meant that either he was simply a Matoran eager for a taste of a Maru's mask power...or he did know something, and was so afraid of being overheard that he hid even the indication of wanting to speak elsewhere. The latter possibility was certainly more disquieting. Perhaps the Toa of Air was grasping at straws in paranoia...or perhaps there was yet more going on than he'd guessed.

 

But his smile remained unwavering, and he stood up, offering the Matoran his hand.

 

"Then let's go," he said.

 

The Scribe eagerly took his hand, and a heartbeat later they were enveloped in white light.

 

OOC: Korero and Jaa to Ga-Wahi

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin

 

Ishi's eye twitched when Ambages inferred his intellect was greater, but otherwise the arrogant vizier was quickly growing on the informant. He was smooth, he was pragmatic, and most of all he was ruthless.

 

"I'll take the job," he replied and took a step forward to shake hands. Not having anything to shake his hand quickly returned to his side. "However, I'm going to need some badge or something to get in and out of this city without causing a fuss."

 

IC: Riaril and hospital NPCs

 

It was with the shocked exclamation of a ko-matoran's swearing that Kiara was discovered. "By Mata-Nui's posterior," he shouted and rushed back into the hospital to gather a small posse of clinicians, whose sole duty was to retrieve the usual vagrants left at Death's Door, aka: the back door of the hospital where the wounded refuse who often had nothing but misery to pay for their treatment seemed to pile up like the snow. Lugging the vortixx and the po-lesterin into the building the nurses did a final sweep of the area, following a fresh track in the snow toward one of the few shrubberies they had yet to burn down with the in-house blowtorch. They were disappointed to find belongings instead of another wounded civilian, but nevertheless they scooped up the bundle of stuff and brought it in along with the new arrivals.

 

The vortixx was deposited in ER2. The Lesterin, who had sustained much less damage, would wake to find himself with a cushy cot underneath his aching back, sweet salves and fresh bindings healing his cuts the old fashioned way: with time. The little morsel that fell off the barbecue, however, would be waking to a different scene. A crowd of nurses would be bustling around her, a golden-eyed doctor with scars down her left face barking out orders.

 

"And bring those karz forsaken ointments from the Rx," Riaril shouted at a nurse as she scuttled out the door.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Ambages retreated and touched the tips of his fingers. "I don't shake," he said. "Sorry." Ishi's hand quickly retracted at that news.

 

"We don't use badges here; this isn't Ta-Koro. But here," he said and quickly wrote down a thank-you note to Riaril before signing it, sealing it with wax and handing it to Ishi. "Take the direct tunnel to the hospital. This should give you free passage through it. Once you're there, you're on your own. Now get out of this citadel," he glowered. His charming smile and pleasurable eyes were betrayed by the venomous voice and impassive wave.

[Shadowhawk]

OOC:

Brief timeskip. We're in shelter now... such as it is.

IC: [ Rhea / Nero ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Nightfall. Utter whiteout conditions, utter lack of illumination. Temperatures rapidly plummeting below zero; wind gusts of up to fifty miles per hour.

"Welcome," mumbled Rhea sourly, huddling closer into the meager shelter at the base of an ice-sheathed, partially-overhanging cliff bank, "to the Drifts."

Nero grunted absent-minded acknowledgement, but really didn't seem to mind the conditions as much as might be expected. Unclipping a small metallic canister from his belt, he passed it silently to his employer and then took one step forward and vanished in the whirling maelstrom. His Kanohi Volitak activated an instant later, rendering him utterly undetectable amidst the wretched environmental phenomena.

He would, Rhea knew, remain close at hand, alert and watchful, sleeping lightly if ever and constantly working his way round about them in sentry's circular patterns, but he would not be seen again, nor heard of, until the dawn. It was one of his habits; distancing himself from the camp gave him distinct tactical advantage in the event of surprise attacks, and he knew it. He was a constant, a self-appointed guardian of his pack.

 

Unscrewing the lid of the canister, she basked in the sudden and sustained blast of warmth that vented forth into the night, along with a ember-like crimson glow that played and danced as liquid flame along the sleek ridges of her Kanohi. She smiled faintly, her spirits brightening considerably. "Heatstone. You can share if you like, Ferron; I can't afford to have a frozen corpse on my hands, now can I?"

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

"Much appreciated, ma'am" Ferron mumbled, huddling a little closer to Rhea's left. If anything, his large frame gave Rhea a miniscule amount of additional cover for the blowing winds.

 

He bent down evidently concerned about something, in the weak light of the heatstone, it was clearly visible that a thin film of frost had settled on his prosthetic leg. Ferron eyed the metal appendage with evident concern, spawning a small scrape out of nothing to remove the worst of it.

 

"Been a while since I was in this kind of weather" he remarked nonchalantly.

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

The Su-Toa followed Ferron's gaze, green eyes narrowing slightly as she realized what was bothering him. She'd never even considered the possibility of the Fe-Toa's prosthetic appendages freezing up, a turn of events that could be more than a trifle worrisome if allowed to continue, but her restless, intelligent mind snapped out an obvious solution in milliseconds.

She made it a habit to conserve her elemental energies, especially during active operations such as this, when a full-blown combat encounter might be just minutes around the corner. But on the other hand... Ferron had enough tactical potential to be worth a small sacrifice.

"If it becomes too much of a problem, let me know. I'll melt it off straight away. Not a permanent fix, but..."

She shrugged, then gasped and shuddered involuntarily as a fresh blast of driven snow hissed across the cliff face and eddied straight into their small patch of shelter. She was seriously starting to consider tapping her energies just to keep herself warm, let alone maintaining the fighting fettle of her allies.

 

Grimacing, she resolutely shoved the temptation away. She'd been through worse than this, a lot worse. She'd never babied herself in her life, and now wasn't the time to start.

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron caught notice of Rhea's sharp breath, and how she seemed to huddle around the heatstone in a desperate attempt to stave off the creeping cold.

 

Granted, Ferron wasn't exactly enjoying it himself either.

 

"At least I have the remedy in the event of a frostbite... I guess" Ferron thought, half lying to himself as well. He had yet to use his new Mask of Healing even once, and even though he'd been on the receiving end of its effects several times, he doubted that it was an easy venture.

 

So he decided to do what he could to lessen the possibility for it as much as, well, possible.

 

"Rhea," he spoke up, "I think we should seriously consider sharing body heat, here"

 

OOC: Yeah, I went there

[Shadowhawk]

OOC:

Following post is made under the implied assumption that said characters are already sitting down, backs to the cliff, huddled in relatively close physical proximity over Nero's heatstone.

Funny, you never really pay attention to little details like that until something like this comes up, do you?

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Rhea's eyes flicked quickly to Ferron's, then away, and she felt herself blushing. Thankfully, between the dark and the snow and the tendency of red light to negate color, he probably wouldn't notice. "I... well..."

The banshee howl of the wind rose to an insane shriek, forcing tiny particles of frost through the chinks in her mask. She clamped her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, and half-shyly, half-roguishly sidled closer to the big male Toa of Iron, pressing herself snugly against his warm muscular bulk.

"Alright."

[Geardirector]

OOC: Hey, we can't all be perfect.

 

Besides, I'm a sucker for this sort of thing.

 

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron complied, feeling the shapely Su-Toa press against him. It was an almost delicate sensation, tinged with maybe just a hint of anticipation. Was that him? Or was it her? He honestly couldn't tell, and it wasn't really his place to even consider it.

 

So instead, he let his mind wander... almost immediately setting down the beaten path towards reminiscing, and that in turn usually led to him talking.

 

"Rhea, I'm right in assuming you've seen quite a few things in your time doing this, hm?"

[Shadowhawk]

OOC:

Wha... oh. Sorry about that; I wasn't meaning 'you', Geardirector specifically, I meant 'you' as in 'we the general populace of the BZPRPG'. Bit of a wordcrafting oversight there, I guess; I didn't realize you might take it personally.

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

"Bounty hunting?"

Rhea stared into the crimson depths of the heatstone, feeling the intense energy of it broiling against her face. It felt good, felt comforting. As did the sturdy protective warmth of Ferron against her side. Not for the first time, she was struck by now big he was; probably at least twice her size, judging by weight.

Snow was building up around her right boot, and she kicked it thoughtfully away, to swirl and vanish instantly in the dark and the driving wind.

"I suppose you might say that. Although to be perfectly honest, I've only been doing this... almost a year now, I guess. Ever since the Makuta fell. Before that, I was with the Ta-Koro Guard."

[Geardirector]

OOC: For future reference; never take anything I say with emoticons attached to them at face value.

 

Yes, I did assume you meant me, but I was trying to "laugh along with you", as it were, I can assure you I took no offense.

 

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

"Hmm" Ferron responded, thinking back to his assistant Tuli, also an ex-guardswoman.

 

Was it some cruel sense of irony that had done this? After Ferron had lost both the tender and sweet 'love of his life', and then yet again having lost the supportive and motherly Zuriana, had it now been decided that the women in his life were to come prepared to face immeasurable perils? For that description fit both Tuli and Rhea pretty well.

 

"Well, it doesn't sound like an extremely original story, but mine isn't either, when you think about it"

 

"When I became a Toa, I joined one of those teams that tried to take up the mantle of the Toa Mata. Of course as we all know now it was doomed to fail from the start, but back then, it felt like we were doing something really worthwhile."

 

Ferron took a deep breath as his eyes glazed over.

 

"We were the Toa Marok. You probably haven't heard of us, but we did some real good in our day, and we were a team"

 

"But they're no longer with us. Makuta's minions killed them, I barely made it out alive, but they're no more. Not even her"

 

The way he said the last sentence made it obvious who was referring to. He relapsed into silence as his strong, sure breath continued. A lone tear ran down the elding veteran's cheek.

Edited February 11, 2014 by Geardirector

[Ghosthands]

IC (Zadron)

There he is.

I freeze in place, standing stock-still as the Dark Toa comes out of a side-passage only a couple of dozen metres ahead of me. Echelon is a tall black shape against the whites and blues of the natural ice tunnels, starkly visible even in the meagre light that manages to filter down this far into the glacial depths. The target of my latest job is here.

I hadn’t expected to encounter him so soon. The plan had been to enter his base and then locate him (if he was there) or lie in wait (if he wasn’t). To run into him like this was a shock, and it threw me a little off-balance despite myself. Still, this isn’t a problem, really.

I examine him. He clearly hasn’t noticed me, and he has his back turned. He’s carrying something under his cloak; I can’t make it out. Looks like he’s in a hurry to get home. My fingers brush the gel pad on my palm uncertainly. Is this really the smart thing to do? Yes, I conclude. I will stick to the plan I decided on even as the Company gave me my briefing. I will do what I have to.

This is not, it must be said, a situation I expected to put myself in. Part of me is angry at myself for doing so; part of me is resigned in the knowledge that I can’t take back my decision, and there’s no turning back.

I take a deep, silent breath, steeling myself in preparation for what I am about to do.

I step out, and…

“Echelon.”

No turning back.

He stops, and turns slowly.

“Zadron,” he says, looking at me unreadably. “How unexpected.”

“I have some information for you.”

His eyes glint in the cold gloom.

“Go on.”

No turning back.

“There is an organisation called the Company. They’re led by an ‘Aurora’, based in a hidden complex carved out of rock past the 45th flag in the Drifts. They have a number of operatives, and considerable resources, and from what I can tell, their goal is to take over Ko-Koro - and they think you’re a threat to their plans.”

“I see,” Echelon replies, his voice still unnervingly calm. “And how did you come by this information, Zadron?”

His half-smile mocks me. He knows.

 

“Because they hired me to kill you.”

 

“And do you intend to make good on this agreement?”

 

Of course he knows.

“No. No I don’t.”

His smile broadens.

“Good.”

He indicates the passage back to the surface with a flick of his eyes.

“Off you go, then.”

I nod, slowly, then turn and stalk back the way I came until he’s out of sight. It’s done. I’ve broken my no-questions-asked rule. I’ve broken employer confidentiality. And now I’ve broken a contract.

I’m sure you’re all laughing to yourselves. Look at Zadron and his pathetic loyalty to Echelon. Well, you’re wrong. I don’t owe him any loyalty - my loyalty is to myself and to the job, and I’ve just betrayed the latter. No, I don’t owe him anything, least of all my allegiance. That’s not the reason.

The reason is very simple: fear.

Now, I’m a professional hardened killer. Cold blood, every time.

But I’ve worked for Echelon. And I’ve seen the things he does. To people.

And you know what?

He scares me ****less.

Edited February 10, 2014 by GhosthandsOfChristmasPast

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

A muscle in Rhea's cheek twitched momentarily as an abrupt pang of jealousy hissed unbidden through her marrow, followed by a countering jolt of dark exultation. That the weathered Toa of Iron had cared deeply for his fallen teammate, had loved her truly and wholeheartedly, was obvious... fallen being the key word.

No, it, Rhea. Stop. You can't think that way, you mustn't. He's not your type, you're not his... just leave it alone.

She took a breath, not an unusual breath in any way, just a breath like the ones she'd been taking ever since they broke pace and halted for the darkness. Cold wind slashed against her face, but she barely felt its touch.

"The Makuta was powerful. Your loss of comrades and... friends, was not unique."

[Ghosthands]

OOC: Korero and Jaa from Ga-Wahi

 

IC (Korero)

 

Only a couple of minutes after their departure, Reordin was once more in the company of Korero and Jaa.

 

"Thank you for your help, Jaa," said the Toa of Air after steadying the Ko-Matoran; Jumps were quite disorientating at first. "Reordin and I had better get going now - lots to do!"

 

The Maru's cheery tone didn't reach his eyes. It was good to have shared the thrill of the Hiko with his old acquaintance, but ultimately Jaa had been a dead end for the purposes of their investigations. Korero's mind kept flipping between the two possibilities, unable to settle on either. Was Jaa right, and was Ambages a noble character on whom leadership had been thrust? Or was the Architect up to something unseen, nefarious or otherwise?

 

Either way, he decided, the suspicions of the Akiri and the Ruhaku's blocking were too much of a coincidence to ignore. He turned to his Toa-brother.

 

"Let's go."

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

"I know," Ferron replied with a sigh, "I just wish I'd told her how I felt before I lost her"

 

Ferron's muscles twitched, an involuntary burst of power rushing through them as the scene played out before his mind's eye, and he heard the horrid screams as the Nui-Kopen ripped them all to shreds.

 

The moment was over, but Ferron's trip down memory lane was not, he continued.

 

"I walked alone for a few years, lost, alone, until I met Krell and Zuriana. Krell was a rogue slave of Makuta on the run, and Zuria was just a simple woman thrust into all this beyond her control, and that's where Kuhrin comes into the picture..."

 

Ferron's prosthetic right hand (the one closest to Rhea) gripped around a nearby icicle as he said it, the metal fingers clutching it threateningly.

 

"He killed Krell, and for a while I thought they'd killed each other, but he came back, and he tricked me, played me for a fool. I healed his injuries, and he killed Zuriana in return, that was her blood on the rocks by the beach"

 

The icicle shattered, chunks flying everywhere, a few shards ricocheting of Ferron's armor like daggers into the whiteness.

 

"I'm going to kill him, too" Ferron rumbled.

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Again, that bittersweet, unbidden pang of jealousy and relief. Bitter, because this one's heart was not unbound; sweet, because in a way it was. Ferron had but remnants left to him now of all that had been, shards of memories insubstantial as vapor on the wind. They might hold him steady, grant him purpose for a time, but finally, they would feed his life no longer, and then--

He was charred and tortured, a battered vessel... empty... his heart was free, she could possess it... his heart was not free, it would never be...

Her thoughts, her spirit, stirred restlessly as wind-touched coals, anxious, undecided. She felt Ferron's grief, felt the brutal fury of his rage, and something deep within her longed to grant him comfort, somehow. But she knew there was nothing she could say that would, for she too had felt the burn of anger and the pain of loss, and when she spoke, it was her mind and not her heart that answered.

"Revenge will not bring you rest, Ferron, and there is no peace in bloodshed. I know."

Her green eyes glittered, hot with the darkness of eternal flame.

"But vengeance is forever, despite what foolish sages claim, and with closure comes healing. There may-- there will-- be scars, and in years to come, they will remind you of what was, and it will hurt... but the chapter will be finished, and the justice has been dealt. To right this wrong... it is a Duty as vital as any other, not because death can bring back life, but because it is the final tribute to those who fell."

"I am a warrior, Ferron. I know. You owe it to your comrades to see their mission through, to see that all they fought for is attained. Duty. Honor. Pride. They died trying... will you stand and see their lives, their blood, wasted on the earth?"

She looked at him, just a simple, honest glance that was both proud and bitter, sad and seductive.

"I am not perfect, nor good, by the standards of many who draw breath beneath the sky. But I am true to myself, and this I know, this I understand... what I have told you."

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron was quiet as he listened in on Rhea's comforting reflection, and in those words he slowly started to get a more accurate depiction of the rougish woman who sat there with him, their rythm more or less aligned in a continuing hunt for heat and warmth from the biting cold.

 

Her world view intrigued him, and it brought him the image of someone who'd shared his pain in some way. It was the story of a woman marked by something she now carried with her, but it did not weigh her down. She was free, and settled in a lifestyle where she was able to remember, and at the same time know the meaning of freedom, it was exhilarating simply hearing it being said.

 

His steel gray eyes were calm, almost content where he sat, meeting the blazing heat of Rhea's emerald eyes.

 

"I owe you one just for that" he said with a hint of a smile.

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Rhea smiled back, as best she could with half-numbed features. "Mm-hmm. I'll remember that."

Not now. But some day... maybe...

Snuggling closer to the Toa of Iron's side, the bounty hunter curled up into a cat-like huddle, sighed once, softly, and was instantly asleep.

The heatstone burned on, throwing its meager bloody glow against the shrieking frigid haze, and the minutes slid endlessly by in infinite flux, cold in the blackness of a desolate ice-locked waste.

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron's arm settled protectively around Rhea as he remained awake a little longer, watching the heatstone glow resolutely as he listened past the howling winds. Once or twice he thought he caught a glimpse of Nero as he patrolled, but he knew it could just as easily be the storm playing tricks on him.

 

His head bobbed down as his breath stilled to a slow, calm and mellow rythm, frozen vapor drifting from his nostrils to mingle with Rhea's as both drifted off into blackness...

 

OOC: Whew, that was fun. If this is how the rest is going to be I'm definitely excited.

[Wotz]

IC: Kuhrin

 

Miles from where Ferron and Rhea sat by the fire, over mountainous slopes and perilous drifts, was their prey. He was a mere whisper on the breeze, the slender assassin whose magnificent form sliced through the cold like a razor blade slices through flesh. In his possession were no heatstones, no weapons, not even a single piece of fur to keep the cold away - only his wits, a long rope he had found along the way, and the strength of Ferron's Pakari, now worn like it were his own.

 

The rope was used to tie his waist to a point slightly further down the rock face he now scaled. He didn't weigh much, in fact his weight was now lower than ever due to his undernourishment and lack of rust. As a result, the mask allowed him to quickly scamper up the rock face, occasionally tearing the rope from its previous position and tying it to a higher one, leaving hoops of rope tied around rocks at regular intervals. This also meant that his rope was growing shorter and shorter as he grew nearer to the peak, and would soon expire its use.

 

The winds were picking up, carrying with them bladed frost flakes which bore themselves into the chinks in his armour and organic muscle, threatening to freeze his life solid in that instant, stuck eternally as a climbing statue of ice. He gritted his teeth, and swore never to allow that to happen. "Never die..." He murmured to himself. "Never die!" He repeated, forcing his limbs to function, forcing them to haul him up, up, just a little further-

 

-snap!-

 

After growing brittle and hard from the icy winds, the rope gave, being stretched one inch too far. He was left with a belt of rope with a small stubby strand sticking out of it. He would have to go this final stretch alone.

 

With the cold eating away at his fingertip and the extremities of his face, Kuhrin dragged his half-frozen form higher and higher up the rock, scarcely daring even to look up, until finally, his outstretched hand found not more stone, but open air. He looked up to find that he had arrived. The frozen lagoon.

 

He brought his hand down onto the the ground and pushed, lifting his body up and over the edge and onto the cold, flat rock. He lay there on his back, freezing and exhausted, for a lifetime, holding his fingers in his hands and breathing on them, the temporary warmth of his breath reflected back into his face to give some passing comfort. Eventually, he knew, he would have to move, if he were to get anything done. But for now, he lay. The cliff had been conquered. That was one obstacle off of the list.

[They]

OOC: JAM brought to you by Polzin siblings. Thanks Douglas!

IC: Ishi Polzin (plus jam with Ryiu Polzin)

Ishi followed Ambages’ advice, leaving the autopsy reports for Korzaa with an attendant while she was busy with more prominent guests, a hulking toa of earth and a toa of water Ishi vaguely remembered calling a mood ring. With his errand for the good doctor completed he left the citadel, taking the snowy streets to Rhanus’ inn. On the walk he thought about the deduction of Matoro’s killer. It had come to him after his meeting with Alloy and The Company, when he had finally taken a peak inside the dossiers. The concept made sense, but was nothing more than an educated guess. It had potentially saved his life in the Akiri’s Office, but Ishi knew the next time he walked through the heavy door into the small enclosed space to see the Hand something more concrete would be needed to ensure his survival. Ambages was a man of business, not prediction.

His left eye shut as the warmth of Rhanus’s Inn washed over him from the threshold. Even if the small silver scars around his left eye had been healed by Riaril the current residents of the Inn knew the informant as Kyhra, the jocular kohlii player with one eye and a tongue of silver.

“Welcome back.” Rhanus called out from behind the bar. He was busy drying glasses, but something in the way he looked at Ishi held a hidden warning. What was he trying to convey through silence?

“Thanks.” Slipping a few widgets onto the counter Ishi went up the stairs to the second floor, his feet padding silently down the carpeted hallway. His shared room with Nichou was the second from the end on the left, room fourteen, and it had a simple wooden door with a green copper lock and knob. Gripping the handle he inserted the key in the lock and turned.

"Interesting," Ishi muttered when the usual sound of a lock sliding out of place was uncomfortably absent. Nichou couldn't have possibly returned yet: the onu-matoran had left for the massif and Ko-Koro was still in lock-down. The key remained in the lock, but his hand drifted to the hilt of the karambit hidden under his right arm, thumb slipping through the finger ring for a speed draw, and then with a shove of the door he stepped into the room ready to face whatever foul creature had slunk into his rented chambers.

A foul beast wasn't far off the mark in Ishi's eyes.

"What are you doing here?” Ishi growled at the evergreen akrainad sitting by the crackling fireplace. Ryiu Polzin was as tall as he was dashing, twinkling blue eyes mirroring the flames he stared into. Unlike the white-suited memory in Ishi’s mind, Ryiu wore layers of thick clothing and a pair of mittens dangled on the mantle.

"The usual," came the reply of the somewhat pre-occupied intruder as he looked up from a small, handheld volume titled 'Ko-Koro and You: A Guide to the Mountainous Regions'. "I'm here to bring my brother back home so Vera and I can try and straighten him out until he runs off to play villain once again.”

"Charming," Ishi grumbled as his grip on the karambit waned. The door closed with a thud and he stepped into the room, letting his bag drop on one of the two beds. "Let me guess, my sweet sister coaxed you into this scheme?”

"Oh, there was nothing sweet about it," he said, a small smile invading his otherwise emotionless face. "You know how she is these days, so stressed... Possibly from carrying the weight of an irresponsible younger brother." His eyes darted across the room, examining. "Two beds? I never took you for the social type.”

"I told you I have no interest in going back to the Polzin Mansion, and that was," Ishi paused, pretending to count on his fingers, "Oh, I'd say, you know, before I disappeared for thirty years. If I'd know she would have sent you on a gukko chase around the island I wouldn't have bothered leaving that stupid kohlii ball with the maid.” He crossed his arms. “I have friends. Just because I find your face uglier than an ussal belly doesn’t mean I can’t interact with normal people.”

Ryiu stood, dropping the cloak he was wearing to reveal business casual-complete with a dark purple shirt and striped tie. He had left the weapons in he cloak, and was now unarmed. "I don't think whatever agents of treason you shake hands with count as friends," he straightened his tie, "I'm going to be straight here. What will it take to get you back to Ga-Koro?”

"A few drinks and a hot ga-matoran. But I think you’re forgetting something: you can’t leave.”

"Salamander's Revenge, my secretary Eisha. As for that...I have my ways of getting out.”

"Oh, Eisha, what an offer to give what you already own." The po-matoran rolled his eyes. "Do enlighten me."

"Birds. Well, one bird. A quick one.”

"You mean your bird?" The question came out with more disbelief than Ishi had anticipated, but the golden ticket in his bag was making teasing his older brother so pleasing after the harrowing discussion with Ambages. "You're mind must have gone soft without me around to test it. Not to spin things in a fatalistic light, but the Sanctum Guard are about ready to shoot anything that moves right now."

"Do you have any other plans?”

He winked. "Yes, but that might require two Salamander's Revenge. I've got a ticket to freedom, but I have no intention of using it to go back to that Kharzani you want to call a family home."

Ryiu crossed his arms, his smile fading. "New deal. Three Salamander's Revenge, and both my secretaries.”

"You really are desperate.”

"You know how I hate seeing Vera sad.”

"I could care less how that vixen feels, but maybe that's just because she threw chemicals in my eye," Ishi retorted as he flopped into the open chair. In the enveloping silence of the moment the fire stood prominent, sap popping and smoke lazily floating up the chimney. Going to Ga-Koro with Ryiu was a nightmare under the current circumstances. Alloy and the rest of the mercenaries were poised, ready to enact their plan which, without the aid of Ishi, might actually succeed. If they did, the kanohi komau had a chance of disappearing forever. Ishi couldn't let something so rare vanish when it danced at arm's length before him.

"I," he started, but found his list of jabs running slim. Instead, Ambage's mission called his attention to the moment. Traveling to Ga-Wahi left two possible routes, even with Ryiu's rahi. The first, overland, would take three days at the most. The Dark Walk, however, was a far faster route and could allow for a possible side trip on the way back. A side trip to Caerus.

"Alright Ryiu, you win. I'll take that deal, but in return we make a stop in Onu-Koro.”

Ryiu sat back down, sighing deeply. "Whatever you said, Ish."

"You don't happen to have the first drink on you," Ishi asked, his head tilted to look at his dapper older brother as he warmed his two-toed feet by the fire. The years had wrought business lines on his reptilian face, even if Ryiu still dressed to kill. "You've done well, leaving Vera to hold the reins.”

"I have enough to deal with, such as the Ga-Koro Yacht company and the Onu-Wahi Cigar conglomerate. Yachting is where it's at. I have a personal boat that pulls in more money a month than most people get in a year. We should go into business together- at least one of us will be able to keep ourselves afloat.”

"I'm sure you mean yourself, but if you haven't noticed, despite all my 'short comings' as you so candidly call them I'm still here, alive and well. Besides, I find more pleasure in my line of work than sitting on a boat waiting for the tan to set in.” Ishi shrugged, feeling a gear in his neck pop back into place. "We should leave. If there's one thing I hate it's having to deal with the Hag, so let's just get this disaster waiting to happen over with.”

"Let's go then. I don't really want to meet any of your 'friends' anyways."

"Oh I dunno, this one's a carver. The worst he could do is make a wooden bust of of your ugly face." With a chuckle Ishi stood up, grabbed the kohlii stick from its impromptu home in the corner behind the door, and gave a last look around the room before stepping out into the hall. With Ryiu behind Ishi set off, stopping only long enough at the bar to remind Rhanus to keep the room in his name before his feet were once again in the cold snow of Ko-Koro, leaving a path toward the gate Ambages had mentioned. With the sealed note in hand the two Polzin's breezed through customs, their white breath bouncing off the tunnel ceiling until with the sharp piercing light of the setting sun they stepped out into the courtyard of the Nuju-Marion Research Hospital.

"This'll only take a moment, unless she tries to kill me," Ishi grumbled as he hopped up the few steps to the main entrance. A ko-matoran named Majit took the letter at the front desk. Looking back at his older brother, Ishi gave a grin. "Well, that was easy."

"What was in that letter?" Ryiu questioned, hands buried in his pockets.

"I have no idea," Ishi stated as they walked back out into the cold, the great doors of the hospital booming shut behind them. Ishi shivered and pulled his coat tighter, using the rose pin to clasp the sides together. The soft hapaka fur of the collar brushed against his neck, insulating. A storm had kicked up in the West, and was rapidly traveling toward them Ishi realized with a dour expression. "Anyways, on to the tunnels. Think the weather's good enough to fly there?"

Ryiu looked up at the skies sourly, "no, I don't think so. Looks like we're on foot.”

Ishi laughed. "Saves me the headaches. I still haven't gotten over that karz forsaken motion sickness.”

"You're just saying that because you're the worst flier in all of Le-Koro," Ryiu chucked, bumping Ishi's shoulder with his knuckles.

The snow gave way from the blow and Ishi's foot sunk deep into the drifts. He cursed, but despite the words a smile played on his face. It was Vera he hated, not Ryiu. "Watch it or I'll unleash my snowball skills on you. But enough playing, if we take the road South a bit there's a snow path toward the tunnels."

"Let's go, then," he pulled out his staff, ready to use it as a hiking stick, "we've got a deadline to meet and borders to illegally cross.”

“Mmm, I’m gonna steal that quote someday.”

They set off.

OOC: Ryiu and Ishi Polzin to Ga-Koro, via Onu-Wahi tunnel system/Dark Walk.

[Phoenixian Wraith]

OOC: Welp, I figure now is as good a time as any - I figure enough time's passed for this...

 

IC: Veirath groaned as he woke up, his injuries strangely 'quiet'. Opening his eyes carefully, he snarled and squinted at the harsh, bright light above him. Forcing his stiff body to move, he sat up in the cot he'd been placed in as the blanket from his chest and onto his lap. Placing his hand against his face, he slowly rubbed his tired eyes as he thought.

 

'Ugh, first I wake up in a boat near an ice wall, then I fall down a bloody hole and get involved in a fight and now I'm even more lost than when I'd began. Perfect.'

 

A deep breath in seemed to catch something in his now-recognised dry mouth and throat, causing him to cough like two rocks ground together. As he leaned over from the force of the unexpected action, he noticed the bandage that wrapped around a good portion of his chest. Throwing off the blanket revealed both legs treated the same way, the left bearing heavier treatment.

 

"Well, that's what I get for kicking a bloody explosive Zamor," he muttered, snorting as he dragged the blanket back over his body and lay back onto the cot. Gingerly clasping his hands behind his head, he decided to wait until he could get more answers.

 

OOC: Veirath available for interaction inside the Ko-Koro Hospital.

Edited February 11, 2014 by Phoenixian Wraith

[Mr. House]

IC: (Sukot urn Voyuk)

 

A good while after Ishi left, a bored looking guard sat in the small waiting room, reading the Daily. Sukot had wanted to go to this meeting for a while now, and after he switched shifts, it seemed the perfect time. While reading with interest an article about bandits in Onu-Wahi's tunnels, the secretary came, with a guard. She told him he could go to the Hand, with an escort. He found it strange that him, being a guard, needed an escort. But then again, the man was probably paranoid.

 

Properly so.

 

Keeping his coat tight around him, Sukot walked forward. Two other armed men stood to either side of the door, with stoic faces and sharp spears. His escort talked to one, who turned to face the soldier of fortune warily. "Vizier Ambages, Hand of The Akiri, is willing to see you, sir." Sukot was slightly nervous, but knew he'd get a good deal. He knew politicians, in many ways. He could negotiate.

 

He entered through the door, approached his de facto leader's desk. Taking a small bow, he rose. "May I take a seat, Lord Hand?" At least, that was how he thought his title was pronounced.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "It's Ambages," he replied and gestured to the only chair on Sukot's side of the desk. "I don't care about those stuffy formalities. Matoro was the stickler for titles," he reminded the hired spear.

 

He looked at the escort and nodded once. "I assure you, I can take care of myself. You are excused."

 

"Sir?"

 

"I am not defenseless and the privacy of this chamber is key to its effectiveness." The guard finally clicked his heels and matched out, leaving Ambages alone with the appellate.

 

"Now then, I hear you have an offer for me, which I find curious." He clasped his hands and leaned back. "I'm all ears."

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron slowly opened his eyes to see the sun rise on the horizon, peering at him with empty promises of a new day, with new opportunities and surprises waiting for him. "Tomorrow is another day" they said, well, today was more than likely not. Today would be no different than the last, Ferron thought to himself. He'd spent the last day ceaselessly pursuing Kuhrin, and he'd be doing so today as well.

 

Rhea was still asleep, breathing calmly as she lay there curled up next to him, his arm still around her, the metallic hand blinking in the sunlight.

 

Ferron sighed deeply, looking over the windswept horizon with concern furrowing his face. Kuhrin's trail had more or less disappeared, what were they to do now?

 

He figured he would have to wait for Nero's opinion on the matter, so he reclined into his position nestled against the cliff face with Rhea as he dug out his extra flask. Unlike his main waterskin, the beverage this one contained was a bit more... fiery.

 

Ferron took a sip of the Ta-Koronan Ale, as he waited. For just a moment, the fire in Ferron's heart mellowed as he basked in the calm sunlight.

Edited February 11, 2014 by Geardirector

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea / Nero ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Cold white sunlight burned against the snow-haze, its solemn glow radiating slowly westwards over the rugged slopes of vast Mount Ihu. The storms and their accompanying precipitation had passed some time during the night, but the wind was sharp and aggressive as ever, lashing fallen snow before in it whirling sheets amidst the slopes and ridges of the Drifts. Visibility was decent, considering, but there was yet a grey and heavy dimness to the air that boded ill; it was the sort of day that has equal chances of waxing much better or much worse, and without fair warning either way.

Rhea was asleep, and then, in an instant, she was awake. Her large green eyes were soft and distant for the briefest of moments, and then they narrowed and hardened against the rising glare of a harsh new dawn.

Gently but decisively, she pulled away from Ferron and got to her feet, first screwing the lid back onto the heatstone canister, then brushing accumulated ice fragments from her cloak. "We need to move. Now. This calmness of weather may not last, and every second counts."

Sliding a hand into her knapsack, she drew out her waterskin and drank deeply, grimacing at the partially-frozen state of the contents, then followed the water with a gnarly wedge of some sort of jerked meat. "You need to eat, Ferron. Alcohol is terribly hard on an empty stomach, from what I hear."

"Yes." agreed Nero the Axe, dropping lightly as a cat from the cliff face above and landing squarely, silently, between the two. There was an odd glint in his eyes, and at his belt hung the limp, blood-stained corpse of a mangled rabbit-Rahi. "You can have some of my provisions, if you wish... Fer-ron."

Rhea blinked.

Her brutal, heavy-jawed bodyguard was deliberately calling her client by his first name... and Nero the Axe never called anyone by their first names, except during two very unique types of social circumstance.

Either he'd decided the Fe-Toa was truly worthy of respect, or he was absolutely, utterly furious... or both.

Edited February 11, 2014 by Shadowhawk

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

"You need to eat, Ferron. Alcohol is terribly hard on an empty stomach, from what I hear."

 

As much as he wished he didn't know that, Ferron had one too many lonely bar evenings under his belt to argue the opposite.

 

He stretched his neck muscles a couple of times, producing an audible *crack* or two as he stood up. He was about to reach into his satchel for what provisions he'd packed himself, when Nero descended with catlike grace to their level, offering his provision to Ferron out of what didn't quite seem like courtesy.

 

Ferron was immediately put off by the strange glint in the feral Le-Toa's eyes, he could see that something was going on beneath the for once expressionless face. A primal glow resided there, waiting, fuming.

 

"Well, aren't we all a nice collection of mental cases waiting to happen" Ferron thought to himself, comparing Nero's enigmatic spark to the fire he knew was sometimes apparent in his own, not to mention Rhea's, eyes.

 

"Thank You, Nero," he said out loud, his voice settling into a comforting baritone with a polite nod, "but I don't think that's necessary"

 

He flicked his finger, and out of his satchel came a small tin can, a slight rustle of metal could be heard, it was clear there was more in there.

 

The lid tore up seemingly under its own power, exposing his own supply of dried meat.

Edited February 12, 2014 by Geardirector

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Nero ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

The rangy Le-Toa gave an abrupt, harsh laugh. Deftly wrenching a hind leg off the Rahi with a gruesome tearing sound, he jammed the limb into the heatstone canister for a moment, pulled it out, sniffed it briefly, then settled back on his haunches and hungrily gnawed the half-charred flesh.

"He's moving south, or was. We'll check ridgelines for his tracks. Trail's gone, in the open."

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron cringed involuntarily upon observing Nero's borderline barbaric table manners, munching on some of own supplies thoughtfully as he listened to what Nero had to say.

 

"Well, then there's not much reason in hanging around here" Ferron remarked, confirming what'd already been said. He looked out over the horizon, clenching his fists as he visualized Kuhrin wading through the snow.

 

"Let's get moving" he said, his steely resolve filling his voice again.

[Mr. House]

IC: (Sukot urn Voyuk)

 

"To survive on this island, especially for one with a trade such as mine, one needs open ears and a savvy state of mind. With that being said, I've noticed that in the days since his Akiri's demise an undercurrent of disdain for yourself within the guard's ranks. I have seen, sir, in my old lands the effect dissent can have upon a government. If the leader is blind to the more disloyal parts of his government, it can put his rule in grave danger."

 

He said it all in a calm voice, with only a vague hint of an accent.

 

"I propose to be your man in the guard. Your ears and your eyes within their ranks. The reason being is that guard's pay for professionals of my type is sadly quite low. I was hoping that a man of your wealth and status, with so much vested interest the position of Akiri would consider this. I am willing to veer into other work, if it pays. Willing to help you cement control over the island's second most powerful force, and the koro it protects."

Edited February 12, 2014 by Rhaegar Targaryen

[Makuta of Time]

IC: Reso and Kasar

"So just how are we going to get out of here."

"Maybe the mountain side, hopefully it's not too guarded. Besides, it's starting to feel like home. I hated it there." Marked Reso.

"Yeah, but we did all the hard work over there while the ladies get the political power."

 

They take their shots and just sit there at the bar. Taking in the sounds of the chatter from other people.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "So you want to play spy-for-hire," Ambages bluntly summed.

 

He thought for a moment about the situation. "You're right -- there is dissent and it is dangerous to those who would rule. People don't like me. The guards are not under my control as Hand, and that would pose a problem for me... if I had vested interest in being akiri." His pink eyes looked into Sukot's skull with an intensity that tore through the mercenary as casually as an auger through cork.

 

"I don't. So sorry to disappoint.," he shrugged slightly. "Buuuut I do want to rule well as long as I am the regnant Hand. You've given me a tantalizing offer for valuable information -- for a price. We both know that in terms of wealth I can pay anything you demand, but do I want to?" he posed. "Ah, that's a trickier situation. Sellswords are fickle souls. So far, you've told me a logical, if plain, reason why I should employ someone, but you haven't convinced me that I need you. Unless you caaaan I'm afraid we're done here." He grimaced and raised his brows as if expressing sadness, even pity, for the mercenary.

 

If Sukot was willing to sell his loyalty from Korzaa to Ambages then what prevented him from turning his back on the Hand for some extra gold? Mercenaries were, by their nature, double-edged swords and Ambages had plenty of experience with them, the Bad Company experiment being the most quintessential example of that which ended in an underwhelming fizz that still simmered in Brykon's stamina. There was a reason Ambages also kept Bad Company and its members at the end of a ten-foot pole with a one-way window between him and them. He didn't deal with mercenaries because of their reputation, which he found to be well-deserved.

 

Sukot hadn't impressed him. The man was standard fare, a fortune seeker hoping to cash in on conflict for some extra widgets in a secret bank account, and Ambages didn't like him. If Sukot was a clever man, however, he would offer something much more tantalizing, either to prove his loyalty or serve as collateral for assuage Ambages' concerns. If he was a clever man...

[Shadowhawk]

OOC:

 

Wow, Geardirector. If you classify Nero's table manners as 'borderline' barbaric, I'd hate to know what sort of table manners you classify as really barbaric.

 

IC: [ Rhea / Nero ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

 

Nero ripped the last shreds of meat free of the bone with a quick jerking movement of powerful teeth, chewed twice, and swallowed. Dropping the polished leg bone to the ground, he rotated his skull, cracking the tendons in his neck. "Yes."

 

Rhea shouldered her pack, stifling a grin. That look in Ferron's eyes when Nero tore apart the rabbit-Rahi with his bare hands, burned it, and chomped it down with the hide still on... priceless. Absolutely priceless.

 

"Right-o. Let's roll. Someone, somewhere, has a date with justice."

 

With the feral Le-Toa taking point tracking position, as before, the vigilante trio hit the snowbound trail of a dark desperado, and the sun beat warm amidst the chill.

Edited February 12, 2014 by Shadowhawk