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Unreliable Narrator

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About Unreliable Narrator

Year 02

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  1. Thanks for playing while you did! It was fun. Hope to see you back someday!
  2. If you have a character in Po-Koro or Metru-Koro: http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/28904-six-kingdoms-rebirth-gameplay/?do=findComment&comment=1183353
  3. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Falls When they eventually progressed, the two of them would have to contend with the trail cutting across the cliffside growing thinner in its width until being barely more than a foothold. Would they attempt to scale it, climb up, or find another way into the carving in the falls? ooc: @Burnmad, @Harvali IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire “Only what is needed in the end,” the Administrator replied. “When all hope is lost, so long as a hero rises willing to sacrifice all, there is still one flame left flickering that can be kindled into a bonfire.” ooc: @Nato the Traveler, @Toru Nui IC: Nixie | Air Suva “I sadly don’t,” Nixie said with a frown. “But maybe going over what we know already might be helpful? I mean, you both discovered the suva rotates, and I pointed out the windows. You said something about the shape of the plant, and also that there was some ancient evil power here that Sorilax removed. The murals on the suva showed some sort of story or a pattern? It looked like a cycle of something being defeated by something larger, but then Sorilax you said they were rahkshi. And I suppose there are a lot of things that are round in here, like the window and the suva and the shape of the room and… I guess my line of thought. I feel like I’m walking in circles with my words, you know?” Nixie paused, realizing that may have been the most she’d spoken at once around her new companions. “Did I say too much?” ooc: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air Morangad’s search proved useful. The pipes ran horizontally along the wall and passed through the right and left walls of the space. More correctly, they seemed to simply vanish into the wall because the seal was so precise. The pipes were made of some unknown metal, and sounded hollow when tapped. Nothing lived inside. Ferns, fungus, and other shade loving growing things made their jungle home among the pipes, finding purchase even in the inhospitable growing conditions. A lone spider in its web hung between two of the pipes, its dark eyes watching Morangad’s investigations with an alien intelligence. “Yes, Taja, working together. How wonderful. I’m sorry to say the last two praying here did not find each others’ company a resource. They left shortly before you arrived. Very slow, the both of them. I mean physically slow. They were intelligent enough. They just couldn’t think outside the box. You know what’s proving intriguing to me: the differences of those who are seeking answers. You all ask the same questions, but some of you are so much ruder than others. Very few understand that deference and respect for their elders goes a long way.” ooc: @Nato the Traveler, @Sparticus147, @Eyru, @Burnmad IC: Nektann, Tahtorak of Loss | Moving South The rain reached Po-Koro quickly. It started first with the pattering of fat droplets against the windshields of vehicles parked outside the settlement, and followed with the sands turning to thick and crusty dirt and the granite boulders growing dark as the water washed over them. The storm clouds rolled across the horizon, not blocking the sun out completely but dimming it swiftly to a dull beam. Then came the echo of the roar. At first one could have heard it and thought it just far off thunder, but no lightning flashed in the sky, and the pitch and wail of the roar cut deep into the mind with a different kind of terror. But Nektann did not walk through Po-Koro, instead he walked through the shaved and shattered mountains nearby, his hulking form appearing as a shadow in the distance. In his wake mudslides stripped the topsoil from the hills. The sheer volume of water sunk deep into the earth, filling tunnels and causing a river of rainwater to form in the caverns beneath Po-Koro. After a few hours Nektann’s encroachment on the village ended. The rains moved on. They had been spared. He continued South for trees. OOC: everyone in Po-Koro, OFI IC: Reliable Narrator | Metru-Koro As Sorilax recovered the taboo from the side of the suva of air another star vanished in the night sky about Metru-Koro. It didn’t even flicker -- it just vanished. There was no explanation, no warning. In the wake of the conflict and the verge of a new path forged towards peace, many of the villagers of Metru-Koro exited the “Archaves” and began to find the remnants of the life they’d tried to rebuild over the past week. Some gave in to grief, wandering away from the village in no particular direction to find a quiet place to call their own until the island claimed them. Death seemed inevitable so some. To others, there was hope. One villager, a ta-matoran who always found himself in the right place for trouble, couldn’t help but explore the deep damages caused by the weaponry mounted to the League airship. The hagah plasma cannons ripped buildings apart and left holes deep into the earth behind instead. Some of the holes into the earth connected to an intricate cave system that led even further down. The ta-matoran, being curious and still in shock, found himself wandering into them. He came back out a few minutes later running as fast as his legs would carry him. “There’s something down there,” he shouted; “I heard drumming!” OOC: Everyone in Metru-Koro, OFI
  4. Thanks for checking in! Didn't miss it, but didn't include it as I'm still working on that description.
  5. Things are a bit better, working on resuming normal post schedule.
  6. IC: Miserix | Ash Barrens The answer Drukarus received came with an intoxicating scent and a warm electrical charge; :It is certain.: ooc: @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air Apex found herself unable to put two and two together. In the chamber on the right, she’d found the beginnings of a taboo ritual going in depth about the preparation and the significance of the yolk. In the leftmost chamber, Apex found the ritual’s end, but in both something was missing. The center of each floor held a strange symbol floating just so softly above the surface. Taja couldn’t help but notice the triangle either, once she found herself no longer entranced by the stars. However, in both their minds they knew something about the shape was incomplete. ooc: @Eyru, @Sparticus147, @Nato the Traveler, @Burnmad IC: The Administrator | Ruins of Fire “Oh, you have no idea,” the Administrator replied to Xane. Had he copied Xane’s confident tone? “Consider it a sacrifice fitting of the boon. It’s the only way to explain it. Only those of great skill could forge such a disk, and only those of true purpose would be willing to part with such immediate power.” ooc:@Nato the Traveler, @Toru Nui IC: Axxon | Ruined Fortress “Your departure will make reality correct again. I experience no honest pity for you,” Axxon replied as he raised his halberd and brought it down to behead his adversary. Soon he’d see the head roll. Soon he’d have one less to deal with. He could fix this. He would return Order to the world. Chaos didn’t like that idea, apparently. Axxon roared as the rubble crushed into his shoulders and broke against him. His attack swung wide, halberd biting into the ground and missing its mark. Each concrete chunk left long lines in the sand as they slowly came to a stop further down the beach. Axxon’s footing slipped and he nearly fell, but caught himself with a step. He stood battered but not downed. Scrapes from the concrete covered his armor, and the single horn on his mask now bent almost completely forward. His vision swam. “Who- “ Axxon wheeled around to see who assaulted him, but the toa of gravity and shadow proved faster. Korruhn’s first punch crushed into the painfully welded shut wounds on Axxon’s back where something now lived, the chitinous protodermis exterior cracking with the force and flakes spinning past Korruhn’s face. The amalgam inside Axxon yowled like a caged rahi. Whatever shred of stoicism Axxon retained after his transformation died as his vision faded. “Ah. The rain anoints our battlefield,” Axxon remarked as the second punch crushed against his chest. He felt the force travel like a shockwave through his body, and his nerves burned with the hot fire of warning pain. Breathing came a little harder, and with a sharp pain in Axxon’s ribs. Korruhn watched silver protodermis sliding down the grooves of Axxon’s kanohi as the titan continued; “It’s good luck to murder in a downpour. Every aspect of our inner horror is washed away.” Axxon’s vision returned in time to catch the full beauty of Ultan’s fiery lights impacting his right side. The twin fireballs scorched his arms and legs, leaving him as red and purple as metal put to the forge. The rain dried from the heat, but the blasts knocked his assailants back from him, dusting them with a fine coating of hot glass crystal from the melted sand. In the inferno Axxon learned the true meaning of the word pain. His voice proved empty as the fire ate the very air escaping his throat. He prayed, and somehow, his prayers were answered. He heard many voices of his god, crying in the same anguish from the depths of the waters lapping against the shore. The amalgam translated the twisted words. Axxon didn’t pray for a peaceful death. He prayed for justice. He prayed for holy vengeance. Axxon belonged to something greater than himself. That something responded. “Mata-Nui loves us. He raises us. He shields us. He shows us our purpose and we obey. To think you might have known your purpose only to abandon it,” Axonn shouted as the smoke drifted from his wounded form. He raised his halberd high, and a dark glimmer caught its blade. No time to safely test whatever untold changes befell his tool of war. The test was now, he decided with forced conviction. He concentrated on the something that responded. “To think you would stand and imagine you are proud. You are not proud. You are pitiful!” A thin silver thread emerged from the handle of the halberd. It wrapped around Axxon’s hand, and formed an intricate and throbbing web across him until it touched the welded scars. A bright flare of illumination burst outwards, followed by a shockwave and a peel of thunder. Suddenly Axxon was not alone. Two, then four, then six, and finally eight hollow specters of roughly matoran stature gained solid form as they drifted from one realm into another. Some were without, and others in excess. All could smell the living, and grew ravenous. Axxon didn’t know what he summoned. He didn’t even get to see it. Axxon blacked out standing tall and unmoving. But the amalgam was very much awake, and moved his newfound allies with the precision and poise of a master puppeteer. The throbbing veins of silver covering Axxon extended like an oily spider’s web to the specters, and the amalgam quietly did their work. The specters took their first steps on mortal soil since their banishing to the Far Shore at the end of the world, and they longed to stay. To do so, they knew they must feed. So they hunted the toa in front of them, swarming and yowling, as their mouths lawled open and hung slack, and their shoulders hunched, and they drew their hands back to tear apart those who stood ready for consumption. They would consume them. They would tear their mortal stars away. They would welcome them back home. OOC: @EmperorWhenua, @~Xemnas~, @The Captain, @Crimson Jester
  7. IC: Reliable Narrator | Air Suva The suva settled. The plant and its curve matched the half moon window. "Okay, now I'm confused," Nixie piped up. "I know you're both moving this around, and there's a plant, but why? Sala, care explaining?" She couldn't take another lecture from Sorilax. It reminded her of classes in Ga-Metru, and that reminded her of what happened to Ga-Metru. OOC: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air "Really, by now I would have assumed you could have formed a solid prediction based on the data previously provided. This is a temple. It's a place of worship and prayer. And it's also a place to prove one's worth. Lewa believed in thinking outside the box. Ironically, he built boxes within this sacred space," the Administrator replied to Taja's musings. Morangad found himself noting the writing on the walls as similar to the language of aspects carved into Desecration Rock at the far South of the Fau Swamp. OOC: @Sparticus147, @Burnmad, @Eyru, @Nato the Traveler
  8. IC: Grime and Miserix | Ash Barrens Grime didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to follow the stranger who promised to free him someday, or should he shuffle back to Barius, the new leader of the Warskaks, and reveal Drukarus's plan? He didn't like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn't like it one bit. So he sat down and waited. He waited until dawn. And he played his squeezebox and quietly hummed his rhyme. In the tent, Drukarus felt a tempting answer in his mind. :You may rely on it.: Ooc: @Sparticus147, and for those still waiting on posts I'm working on those too don't worry.
  9. IC: Grime | Ash Barrens "You're oftly nice, and I wish I could say otherwise. Do matoran have many names where you come from?" His fingers fiddled with the keys of his squeezebox -- a nervous habit. "I'm sorry. I overheard a little bit of your conversation. The skakdi say I need to listen less and work more, but there's not much work to do when I'm hiding in the tire compartment." Something touched Drukarus' mind. Something he saw back in the fires of the Nightmare Pits. :Ask again later.: Ooc: @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamp As Viltia bent down for a closer look and the flower she conjured died, the silver thread pulsed and twitched. Like the warning thread in a spider's web it wavered. The echoes of its threads rippled just below the waters of the swamps. The dead answered back. Viltia felt a clammy hand bursting through the moss and roots below her, its semi-mechanical fingers scraped against Viltia's ankles. As if they'd been there all along, the corpses of dead rahi and matoran burst from the jungle around Sidra and Viltia. They swayed and moved as a single organism, bound together by silver mucus-like threads. As they struggled forward to surround the two living beings, a sonorous voice called out from them all at once: "Come back to me..." Ooc: @Kal the Guardian, @Nato the Traveler
  10. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Rig Ollem and Mahrika slowly sailed across the flotsam filled waters of the bay. The sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs ahead carried over the droning of the raft’s motor. Their raft bobbed with the tide, the bow rising and falling as they cut across through the choppy waves. Even as they sailed the two matoran could see their next destination: the narrow path along the cliffside leading to behind the falls pouring from the carved mask of water breathing... @Harvali, @Burnmad IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamp Both of them couldn’t help but feel in awe of their discovery. Both of them couldn’t help but begin thinking of what their discovery could mean for both themselves and the future of Le-Metru Nuva. First the foot, and then the sword -- the finds hinted at something greater than they could have collectively imagined hiding in the toxic waters of the swamp. A silver vein of something unwelcome pulsed hidden among the tangle of tree roots. It wasn’t a plant, and it certainly wasn’t alive. Everything it touched ceased to be alive as well. @Nato the Traveler, @Kal the Guardian IC: Nixie | Air Suva (With Sala and Sorilax) “I don’t know if lifting ancient temple structures is a good idea,” she stuttered as Sorilax and Sala began to shift the suva. Despite her protest, they finished moving the suva without injury to the temple itself. And despite her non-academic worries, no paranormal disembodied voice echoed out through the jungle to proclaim they were cursed for eternity after desecrating -- just a mutated frog-bird croak. The suva fully settled in its new position, with the plant growing on top of it making a vertical line parallel to the line in the half-circle window. Nixie waited. Then she waited a little longer. Things felt very anticlimactic. “Was something supposed to happen?” @Sparticus147, @Kal the Guardian IC: Grime | Ash Barrens “What do you mean “true” name,” Grime asked plainly as he stood under Drukarus’ gaze. “My name is Grime.” @Sparticus147 IC: Nektann, Tahtorak of Loss | The Wastes The desert stretching out beyond him and past the wash of rain missed something. He couldn’t understand. A memory answered: trees. The land before him was missing trees. He always wanted to see green here. He turned south. Nektann would find trees and bring them back. He would make the desert green.
  11. Hello all, Personal issues arose in the last week. Apologies for the delay.
  12. I encourage you to read EW's reply if you're at all worried about letting your character take a hit. Taking a hit leads to awesome stuff.
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