Visaru

Korzaa grumpily gestured for Reordin to drop the salute. “You know I’m not your superior anymore, Reordin.” As Aelied left them in the hallway outside Tarkahn’s office, she took advantage of the moment she and the Toa Maru had alone. “However, I am still going to ask you to stop drinking in abandoned buildings. Some of the locals have started issuing complaints.” With one more pointed look, she turned and made for the Akiri’s office.

- VERAK (The Rockwall) Putting a mask back on is like a breath of fresh air. Energy rushes through me. The tips of my extremities tingle. I feel like I’m getting lifted off the ground as the weight of my armor disappears. And sweet Mata Nui, do I feel fast. She’s back baby, the— Kanohi Calix Great Mask of Fate You can’t do better than this. It’s not quite the same as my old mask; a little uncanny, like an off brand copy of a piece of merchandise. But although the texture’s different, I recognize the feeling all too well: capability. Anything I can do, I will. No misses, no slip ups. Visualizing my movement is the same as actualizing it. My confidence can now literally shape my reality. And I’m eager to text it out. I look up into my own face, worn by my partner-in-crime, and meet his eyes. My mouth is pressed tight together to keep myself from letting out a whoop of excitement. “Ready when you are, brother.”

Korzaa responded to the wink with a stoic stare, which was remarkably less frigid that the glares she usually responded to him with when he was one of the guard. She would never admit it, but seeing him brought a little of the edge off the storm of stress she'd been caught in the past few weeks. These days, she was surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, not just in the Koro, but also in the government and her own guard force. Reordin was the only person she’d seen today who she’d trusted since before the taking of the Koro, before Matoro’s death, before even Turaga Nuju’s. Although, his face now wasn’t exactly familiar. He had the unique Kanohi of a Toa Maru, the mantle of Kopaka’s successor, and had been chosen to become the most powerful Toa of Ice on the island. What had Mata-Nui been thinking? As they walked through the icy halls of the sanctum, Korzaa drifted near to him and spoke in a low voice, “By the way, Toa Reordin, we do need to speak after this meting about your choice of... leisure activities.”

- TARROK (Irnakk's Tooth) “We have crossed blades, so I know that you have what it takes to take your revenge.” I told her, upset by her poor display of confidence. Where was the courage and defiance she had when she challenged me to that duel? “But if you would prefer to die here in the alleys of this cesspool, I will not stop you. It was an honor to have fought you, Ash;tak." And then I turned to leave her, meaning to make good on my words.

- FORT GARSI Kirik sways in place, clutching the stolen flagon of ale with all three hands, staring at the liquid. By the way his center of balance wobbles over his legs like a frond of seaweed in the waves, it’s clear that he has competed in a few too many drinking contests already. Apparently, he thinks one more couldn’t hurt. He clutches Grloasch and Krex’s shoulders with his mechanical arms to hold himself steady as he sloppily guzzles down the drink.

- TARROK (Irnakk's Tooth) After the fight, the audience around us turned to leave, a little disappointed the spectacle hadn’t been bloodier. They were simple minded people, who did not understand the complicated politics of violence. I was pleased with the outcome, as it had come to pass exactly as I had expected, a good sign my mind and body were not dulling. I clasped forearms with N'Ashka and told her, “I too am glad we have crossed paths. The swiftness of your blade could still best many Skakdi.” I dropped the handshake and stepped back, and then, before I could think over my words too long, I ventured a proposition: “I hope your thoughts bring you to the prospect of employment. It would be an honor to fight for you, N’Aska Akkataka, and place you back on your throne. I would be willing to forgo a payment in advance, considering your situation.”

- The Rockwall Readiness has never been my strong suit, and I’ve reached the limit of my capability to construct plans. “We’ll improvise,” I blithely wave away his concerns. “You’ll have a Kualsi, you can find me easy enough.” Itching to get going, I remove my mask and offer it to him. I find it a remarkably intimate gesture. The energy saps from my body, the weight of my mask suddenly growing heavy in my arms, and I am metaphorically prostrate before him. If he had any desire to kill me right now, there's no way I could get the mask back on fast enough to stop him. And I'm also offering up the most valuable item I own. Some people say our souls lie in our Kanohi. If they are right, I’m offering my soul to a practical stranger. Trust is dangerous thing to throw around like this, but honestly, it’s not even the most dangerous thing I’ve done this week.

- Fort Garsi Kirk springs back to his feet like a lunging snake, then stumbles as he almost loses his balance and topples onto the ground again. When he finds his footing, he turns his red eyes to Krex, still wearing his confident grin. “I’d say, Krex, you’ve absorbed the most important part of the story. Whattya say we scrap the storytelling and get to making some new stories right here in this hall?”

By the time the tall cloaked figure of the Toa Kalta’s leader had appeared in the doorway of Korzaa’s office, the captain of the guard was already rising from her chair, a stack of tablets under her arm. News of the Dasaka’s landing had already reached her, and she had used the time between receiving the news and Aelied’s summons to prepare for the inevitable meeting, re-reading what little information she had recorded on the Dasaka and organizing her thoughts on the new arrival. It had been a blessed change of pace to have time to prepare for something, and she had made good use of it. As she reached the doorway, she fixed Aelied with her icy stare for a moment before she nodded respectfully to him and let him lead the way to their Akiri’s office.

No worries -- worth the wait! - TARROK When N’ashka parried my blow, overcoming the momentum of my forceful swing, and then came at me with an unexpectedly swift counterstrike of her own, I felt a rush of some positive emotion. At the time, I thought it was relief that I had found a worthy employer. When I think back to that moment as I write now, I find the feeling colored more by some kind of almost-fatherly pride in her. Perhaps I was glad to be given hope that all great warriors still possess some shred of their glory even when brought low. Perhaps I already viewed myself as her protector and trainer. I hope it was not the latter — that would be unfair to N’ashka’s independence — but even after all these years alone with my thoughts, I still sometimes find my self a mystery. In the heat of battle, of course, I had no time for these thoughts, and as her sword flashed toward me I had no time for restraint either. Without enough time to swing my weapon in place to parry, I stepped into her lunge and my free hand darted out to ensare her dominant arm’s wrist in a debilitating grip, hopefully to twist the sword out of her grasp in addition to preventing the use of her weapon. As I did so, I swung my heavy weapon’s hammer head straight toward her face.

- VERAK Before I made the following speech, I thought I was bad at coming up with plans: “Su-Toa — plasma right? That’s a fun one, no doubt. We’ve got ourselves a stellar distraction. Okay, some wheels are turning in my mind and boom, inspiration has struck. What I’m going to ask you may sound a little absurd, I know I’m asking for a lot of trust here, but listen: it’s a better deal for you, and what’s a little trust among strangers? So we’re gonna switch masks. You wear my Kualsi, I wear your Calix. Then, from hiding, you make your fireworks. BOOM, over the wall, HUGE distraction, just as you Kualsi-teleport on top of the big lighthouse there. I pop out of the bushes, looking like I was the culprit behind the plasma bolt, and continue distracting them while DODGING the answering volley of crossbows, wearing your Calix, remember, while YOU tour the lighthouse. Check up on the sights, see the views, enjoy your vacation. When you’ve had your fill of tourism, come back down here and meet ME, and we’ll make our daring escape. Easy, swashbuckling, and fun.” But after I’d said it? I though I was the most underused tactician this side of the Tren Krom Break.

Kirik’s grin grows impossibly wide. “Your mistake, the tale's a long one.” He leans over the table, leaning on his mechanical arms as his real ones gesture to the tabletop as if it were a map. “There’s a place, you see, on the river’s edge, so far from the closest stronghold, that if you tried walking to one you’d die of starvation before you reached another place touched by an intelligent being. Only ruins and Rahi for Kio around.” Then Kirik looks up and makes eye contact, as if the words he were saying were of life or death importance. “Now was a boy who grew up in that village who has different than others. He had dreams about greatness. His parents were fishers, you see. They were excellent spear fishers, and they caught enough to feed many other families besides themselves. They were heroes of the community. They were universally admired, but behind their backs people whispered about their child. "That boy was always troubled," they would say, and others would add in, "by his dreams". They said they heard he had terrible nightmares, visions of demons clawing up the island of Zakaz, tearing Nektann’s creation apart at the seams and tossing the islands, one by one, into their vast maws. “Until one day,…” Kirik makes a stabbing motion with his prothetic hand, “…he caught a fish. That night, he had good dreams for the first time in many moons. That night, he dreamed that he was one of the terrible demons swallowing whole all of existence. These dreams, in contrast to the nightmares, elated him.” His tale is broken off by a red Skakdi, who has failed to unfoot Grolasch, and she is instead thrown bodily into Kirik’s side. She knocks Kirik onto the floor with a shriek of protest.

“It’s an official symbol: it bears the authority of the Sanctum Guard. If you show that to any officer, they’ll be willing to help you find a place for your mechanism there,” the guard explained with a nod at the Exo-Matoran.

- Fort Garsi Great Hall Kirik joins the shouts of merriment by leaping onto a table and letting loose a high pitched howl, stretching out all four arms behind him. “Let’s sake our thirst and addle our MINDS!” He leaps headfirst at a few other guests, and after a quick toussle and kick in the gut as punishment, he sets to drinking. For all his pained looks at the wall, Kirik joins the festivities with impressive gusto. He is a voracious drinker and eater, able to down a few whole chickens on his own and outdrink a warrior twice his size. He is an inexhaustible dancer, swinging his limbs hither and thither atop a table with unIdentifiable rhythm. He makes enemies aplenty, joins contests of insults with unusual fervor, and increases the level of volume all over the hall by forcing the other warriors to talk over his cries of mirth. Eventually, he spots Krex, and makes his way over to her in the same manner as a passenger would make their way over a ship’s deck if it was caught in a fierce storm. When he arrives, he collapses into a seat, a drunken shark-toothed smile plastered over his severe face. “Krex, would you like to hear a story?”

- Near Ko-Wahi Dark Walk Entrance The guard’s eyes flicked back and forth between Safina’s for a moment, then she held up her handless arm and said, “Wait right there a moment, Ma’am.” She hurried back to her compatriots. After a half minute of discussing something with the other guards, she returned with a shard of ice with a symbol inscribed on it and offered it to the Turaga. “I know you were on your way to Onu-Koro, but we’ve been looking for information on the Dark walks, and your experience is invaluable. We are willing to pay good money for it. Lieutenant Alka Torin is leading this expedition. We’d be in your debt if you could tell him what you told us and answer any questions he might have.”

“Wait.” The guard stepped forward. She felt her position of authority had been stripped out from under her by the cryptic words and wisdom of the unusual traveler. She no longer felt like a strong hero, a protector, but an innocent who needed protecting. She was afraid, gripped by cold fingers that in her imagination were stretching from the dark entrance behind her. “You’ve… been in the Darkwalks before? What did you see down there?” Her confident tone had been stripped away.

The guard turned back toward the tunnel entrance, then back toward Safina. She felt strange about reporting guard activity to a civilian, but she always made a rule to respect Turaga — anyone selfless enough to give away their Toa powers was a person who deserved deference — and there was something about the way Safina spoke and stared hauntedly at the walk that gave an eerie weight to her words. Besides, she had just suggested The Makuta was back, and that alone was enough to chill anyone enough to forget any sort of protocol they had. “A dozen or so, ma’am. Mostly new recruits on their first expedition, but they’ll be going in alongside expert Ihu-Koro Highlanders.”

Korzaa nodded. "Exactly right, Skrihen. Best of luck." She sat down at her desk, mulling over the news as she continued her endless organizing. The rumblings in the Darkwalk, the remnants of the Legacy, the enigmatic power behind Matoro's death, the Piraka, and now the Dasaka too? Every day she felt as if there was another threat closing in on her village, and these were only the ones she knew about. It was too much to contend with even in the best of ties, and her resources were stretched thinner and thinner by the day. Was it only a matter of time before the Koro fell again? Not if I'm still alive. She had at least that thought to console her as she continued her endless burden, getting her mind in order for the inevitable summons to Tarkahn's war council.

- VERAK “Right on, brother.” This is turning into my kind of day. At least, it was, until we getter a better look at Ga-Koro's latest exercise in authoritarian symbols of strength. Thick walls, lots of crossbows, and the only entrance is via a boat. Well, looks like my usual ‘saunter up to the gates and talk pretty with the guards’ maneuver was out of the question. I suppose, technically, I could do it treading water, but it’s hard to be suave when you’re fighting to keep your head above the waves, and you definitely don’t want to be down there if they start raining crossbow bolts at you. So I find a good vantage point and turn to my new partner. “Well now, We seem to have come to a slight roadblock. I promised you adventure, Cipher, and you’ve got it: a Ga-Koro fort built way sturdier than it has any right to be. We got ourselves one mask of teleportation, a knife, and whatever you’ve got on hand. So traveler, I’ve got a puzzle for ya: how do we pregnate this impregnable castle before us?”

Kirik’s neck cranes and stretches, as if he is pulling at some invisible restraint, before he lowers his gaze to his Warlord. “Garsi;Dii, I may be a Muaka, but I am not wise.” His grin grows wider, “And birds are sometime better prey than Kikanalo.” Then he glances to Grolasch. “I won’t turn down Drink either, though. And," he turns back to Ipsudir, his smile growing either conciliatory or condescending. "I would never disobey the orders of my Warlord."

Kirik’s neck cranes and stretches, as if he is pulling at some invisible restraint, before lowering his gaze to his Warlord. “Garsi;Dii, I may be a Muaka, but I am not wise.” His grin grows wider, “And birds are sometime better prey than Kikanalo.” Then he glances to Grolasch. “I won’t turn down Drink either, though. And," he turns back to Ipsudir, his smile growing either conciliatory or condescending. "I won’t disobey the orders of my Warlord."

At the words, Korzaa looked up from her files and met Skri’s eyes with a furrowed brow. “A fleet?” Korzaa had never payed much attention to the Dasaka. They were too far away from the high slopes of Ko-Koro to hold any place of meaning in her world. Her role was to keep the village of ice safe, and in that regard the Mata-Nuian’s psychic counterparts across the sea were no more than a curiosity. But if an army was on Ga-Koro’s banks, then that was another matter. “No, this is the first I have heard of it," Her eyes wandered along the ice walls of her office before they snapped back to Skri. "Do they come armed?" ------------------ The guard took a step back, the unusual sight of a youthful Turaga inside a suit of robotic armor taking a moment to process. “Um, yes, ma’am, we are. There’s a scouting mission set to leave soon. We’re making the final preparations for their entry as we speak. Rest assured, if anything's an imminent threat down there, we’ll know about it.”

- VERAK - NOKAMA PORT So apparently we're at the very southern end of Le-Wahi, where the Kumu islets sank… the location's ringing some sort of bell in the part of my mind that pays attention to things. In fact, now that he’s mentioning it, I’m finding this place extremely familiar. It's when my eyes properly size up the lighthouse that’s half covered in Ga-Koro fortifications that I realize something pretty important: “Ciper, old pal, I’m not lost after all. I was with those claim staking Ga-Matoran — I practically founded this town! Nokama didn’t have anything to do with it — this is Port Verak, as far as I’m concerned!” I crow, loud enough to draw some welcome stares. “I was on the Ga-Koro warship that retook that lighthouse,” I pointed an accusatory finger at it, “from a band of thieves and cutthroats. They stole my old Calix, and so in return I whisked ‘em around with some sand powers and robbed them of this old Kualsi. And after all this time that mask has brought me back to her home. Poetic right? Who says Mata-Nui’s dead, with coincidences like these?” I grab Cipher’s arm and tug him toward the lighthouse, “Hey what do you say I show you around my town? We can go check up on that heavily-guarded-but-no-less-mysterious lighthouse, or I can guide you over to those equally-mysterious-and-likely-treasure-filled ruins you were looking around for earlier. If you came looking for adventure, luck has just delivered you the perfect guide!”

Captain Korzaa turned away from sorting her stacks of tablets and scrolls to give Skri a blatant glare in retaliation for the audacity of using the world ‘scuttlebutt’ in her presence. “I do indeed want to speak with you, Skrihen, please come in.” She plucked a tablet from one of the more organized piles and flicked her eyes over the writing. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but we’re planning an expedition with Ihu-Koro to one of the Darkwalks soon, and we’re sending in some fresh recruits. It’s only a scouting mission, but obviously it’s still the Darkwalk, and I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of stirrings in their depths. The priority is to bring back the same amount of soldiers as we send into that hole. The mission’s being led by the Highlanders, and I’m sending a newly hired Vortixx mercenary alongside them too. The Vortixx is going to do some last minute master class with the recruits, and I want you to facilitate and organize the training with him. Let me know how he does, if we can rely on him as a steady trainer, or if he’s better for patrols. Then let me know if you think the recruits are battle ready, or if we need more forces on the expedition.” “Should be fairly routine.” As Korzaa stepped toward Skri to hand her a list of the soldiers on the expedition, she stopped and squinted at the Bo-Toa, her soldier’s senses picking out the faint smell of alcohol on the mercenary’s breath. “And, Skrihen, what is it that took you so long to get to my office?” —————————— Meanwhile, at the mouth of the Ko-Wahi dark walk, one of the guards manning the fortifications heard the whining of B4U8’s machinery and turned to spot Safina near the tunnel, staring into the darkness. The guard mumbled something to her colleague and climbed down from the crude platform she had been manning. She was missing one arm at her elbow and wore a noble Kanohi Komau that matched the rest of her stark white body. Her form was barely visible against the blinding snow falling around her as she waded through the powder to plant the shaft of her spear authoritatively in Safina’s path. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” she said, her confident stance melting a little as she eyed the metal Exo-Suit looming above her. “This is a restricted area. What is your business here?”

- TARROK I was disheartened to see her let my blow strike her without even an attempt to dodge. Her blindness was debilitating, and I felt a rush of gratitude for the one eye I still had, happy that I was not entirely cut off from the world of sight like she was. As I watched the former legend scramble back to her feet, I circled slowly around her. A small crowd had formed around us, mostly Skakdi wearing leering grins, eager to see some blood. I wondered if any of them recognized the former wife of the blade, if anyone else felt the melancholy I did at seeing personified how far a Skakdii could fall. There was no honor beating her swiftly, as I now knew I could. I saw the move I would need to do so — a silent swing of my hammer, knocking her legs out from under her and getting my blade at her throat in one clean spin. But instead, I let my mind shift back to my old days as a Sarke fighter. I could put on a show for the passerby while testing the limits of N’aska’s disadvantage. I certainly did not intend to let her win, but I planned to at least draw out the combat. I stopped my circling and silently crept back in the reverse direction of my earlier pacing to move to an unexpected angle. Then I swung my weapon at her legs, but let the head of the hammer scrape across the cobblestones at it neared her shins. I wanted to test her: Would she react in time? Could she anticipate where I had moved to? If she could not dodge even this, I thought then, she would not be worth my services, regardless of her former glory. There was no hope for her.