Seraphimon

I've always thought that the contest system was a little ridiculous; or maybe not ridiculous but not capturing what it intends to capture. Public voting in general is problematic because it really is just a popularity contest; whoever gets the most votes wins. These votes can come from anywhere and it is not always the case that they come from the players that actually end up playing the game. And if it turns out that the emperor has no clothes and the RPG that is popularly elected ends up abandoned, then maybe the voting system isn't seeking to capture what it was seeking to capture in the first place. If you really want to capture player demand for a game, then you need to see what the player themselves actually end up playing, which is not something that a poll can capture; it can only be captured by having the game itself be played. Public voting can show support and popularity but it cannot show sustainability, which I think is what this forum is really looking for at this point. And I don't think that many games have accomplished this on this forum. Games being abandoned were a problem almost immediately after the system was introduced. In fact, I feel like games that were successful are in the distinct minority at this point. As such, I think a change is needed and some sort of freer, non-time frame specific approval process is probably best, as has already been discussed.

Hello everyone. What has been happening? I always end up coming back here around once a year around finals time because I'm curious how the site is doing. Has it succumbed to the fact that Bionicle hasn't been made in years? Is the site still going strong? Simply put: what is up?

IC: [Grethor] Cold. But not as cold as it could be. Deep within the wastes of Ko-Wahi, in the shadow of Mount Ihu, snow padded lightly on the city of Ko-Koro. Even deeper below, deep within the walls of the city, Grethor the Wild sat on top of a wooden crate that had formerly held firewood that was currently being used in an actual fire. Around him lay the entirety of the Xa-Koro refugees, arranged haphazardly, tents staked wherever they felt like, campfires nearby, weapons polishing, armor gleaming in the strange twisting light of the cave. Greathor adjusted himself and looked deeply into the fire, attempting to ignore his companions around it as they squabbled and diced. Two Skakdi, one white and angry, the other bronze and lazy, and one Matoran with one eye sat across from him. "This is complete and utter ######!" screamed the white Skakdi, his face a contorted mask of rage. "Why are we here?" "Playing dice," said the other Skakdi, positioned casually on top of a crate. Somehow, he gave off the impression of lounging even in such uncomfortable living conditions. "Gambling. Living. Stop complaining and roll the dice, brother." "Don't you 'brother' me, you ######!" he turned on him, clutching the dice in one hand. "You know as well as I do that -" "We know plenty of things." Despite the company, the one-eyed Matoran was oddly unfazed. He merely sat there, cleaning his wickedly hooked blade. "We know we were chosen. We know we were saved from the the destruction of Xa-Koro. Whatever comes next, comes." He looked up and shot the white Skakdi a dirty look. "Or do I need to slit your throat to get you to shut up, Domitian?" This was clearly an old argument. "I want...no, I NEED more than that, Likho. This isn't about me just wanting to kill things." Domitian stared daggers at his brother. "This is about being ###### COLD and sitting in the middle of the ###### SNOW WASTES! For what? NOTHING." He stomped his foot and nearly upended himself. "I'm ready for some ACTION." "I know you are," said the Matoran named Likho, somehow still calm, "but the facts remain. Ilhamotho will come back...and then I'm sure something will happen. Brykon was talking to him 'privately' and then he disappeared." He gave a thin-lipped smile. "He'll be back and then maybe you'll have your answers." Grethor adjusted himself in his seat and said nothing. The other Skakdi gave a yawn. "I hope not. I'm growing accustomed to this cave." Domitian ignored his brother. "MAYBE??! That's not what I need, pipsqueak, I'll-" "Shut. Up. And. Take. Orders," Lekho said, grinding his teeth. "That's all you need to do. Even you should be capable of that, Skakdi." "Like that's some sort of insult, I'll beat your mouth in with-" "I'd RELISH the opportunity to see you try!" "I'm sure you would, you little-" "Just shut up and roll the ###### dice!" yelled the other Skakdi, his eyes glinting suddenly, dangerously. There was a start, the feeling of something snapping, the sound of Both Lekho and Domitian suddenly paled and sat down, glumly, silently. Some of the other Matoran who had glimpsed over at the verbal brawl turned back to their own campfires. There was a long pause before Grethor leaned over and tossed the dice and let out a long, silent yawn.

IC: [Klavier] Klavier smiled. "Of course, of course." He dropped the bag, the soft thump of the snow mingling with the soft sound of mutilated flesh. Today was one of the days when Klavier wished he could see. He could feel the wondrous architecture, the way the buildings were embedded into the glacier, like flowers from a meadow, he could smell the people bustling about quietly and he could hear the sounds of the ice creaking, the snow melting, the ground groaning. But alas, alas, he could not see! His vision failed him! Only prophecy visited him, but there was no desire there. Those were phantoms of past and future and what he wanted, more than anything, was to see the now! None of this came close to registering on Klavier's face. Instead, he remained neutral and aloof, his cloak billowing about and his sword a constant presence on his back. The captain led him to the door. He bowed. "I will follow you, of course. Lead the way."

IC: [ilhamotho] Why, exactly, had he gotten so angry? The worry chased him like a wolf, jaws bared, as he exited the hut. He was already regretting his conduct. She was the Toa of the area, so of course she was suspicious of a scarred Vortixx carrying a giant spear weapon who just happens to use a false name. He scowled. It was not his fault, not at all, that no one had bothered naming him. So, he made them up. They called him "the boy" and "Vortixx" until that day. He still remembered it, his partner, a Skakdi, standing in wide-eyed surprise, over a horribly mutilated corpse. My body, flush with excitement, the knife in my hand dripping with blood... "That gleam...kid...Karz, da ###### did you do?" I shrugged. "I killed him. Wasn't that the job?" "Yeah, but......what da ######l Not like that! What did you do?!?" The Matoran had been ripped in half, from right waist to left eye socket, a long cut dividing the Matoran into two equal sections. A countless number of puncture wounds littered the corpse, each of them oozing. There was another knife sticking directly out of his heartlight and his right hand lay some distance away. I looked up and smiled. "I killed him, boss." My eyes gleamed. "I killed him." Redeye. Ilhamotho looked out onto the bay. It was time to face facts; no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, no matter how much he tried to redeem himself, become a moral being, he just ended up killing things. There was little reason for his outburst, for his near murder of that Toa, but he still did it. And here he was, about to take a job where he would lie to a group of hopeless refugees for his own personal advancement. Oh, and for one other reason. To kill. In his deepest heart of hearts, he knew the truth: as long as he followed Ambages, there would be blood. And, as Ilhamotho knew, as long as there was blood, he would be content. He started to walk back to the fountain.

IC: [Klavier] Klavier frowned. "I'm afraid that the prophecy directly pertains to the Toa Reordin. Or rather, to the Toa Maru as a whole. His wisdom has nothing to do with it." Actually, the prophecy also pertained to the Akiri, or at least that was how Klavier had interpreted certain sections of what he had seen. Based on what he knew, at least, which to be fair was not much. It was not a positive depiction, not in the slightest. Then again, not many of his prophecies were terribly positive for anyone involved. "Yet...if you can grant me an audience with Akiri Matoro...perhaps it would be worth a visit. Yes...I would appreciate that." He dropped the bag of Rahkshi down and grinned. "But what to do with this?"

IC: [Klavier] Klavier hoped, for a brief instant, that the tensing of Captain Korzaa's muscles meant a fight. The chance to meet an opponent in combat, the chance to spill blood all over the bridge. The sword latched to his back was brilliant and inviting, the weight reminding him with every step of his ability, of his great duty, of his strength. The chance to test it was almost too much to bear. Then, he smelled her muscles relax and the moment passed. “I currently have to reason to stop you. I would not do such a thing.” said the captain, without turning around. “Now, I would be happy to assist you in delivering this urgent message, provided you inform me of what it is.” Klavier thought about it a moment. I suppose there's no harm in that. He nodded. "I simply wished to inform Toa Reordin of my prophecy. It directly concerns him and the other Toa Maru. They must be informed immediately if they are to take action. It is as simple as that. I am a Prophet and I am simply doing my duty, as we all must."

I believe all entrances besides the Dark Walks have been sealed off. Nope. Check the Kini-Nui description: "It has several entrances: one below the Suva Kaita, one through the Suva Nui in Le-Koro, and six long Dark Walk tunnels branching straight from a central chamber in Mangaia to the doorsteps of each Koro are some to name." This is exactly why Hewkii has begun a project to change the exit of the Dark Walk to the middle of the desert. Wouldn't that involve moving the location of the city? One does simply move a large tunnel...

IC: [ilhamotho] Immediate reaction: Violence. Bloody Karz, now there's two of them. Calculation, carefully weighing the odds. Best escape routes. A hole blown in the side of the hut? A hole blown through the two of them? Crossbow bolts were already loaded, would take a mere second to fire a grenade and burn the whole thing to kingdom come but that could possibly be unfortunate. Perhaps the hammer? Quicker, quieter, more brutal. Get the visceral satisfaction of watching their heads exploded like rotten fruit. Next moment: Annoyance. Mild anger. This Toa was one of the heroes that defeated the Toa Maru? He resembled and acted like a circus clown. The ice statue? The fireworks? All of it, nonsense. The Toa wouldn't last a day on a real campaign trail. Can't believe I let her get that staff on me like, certainly can't believe I lost my temper so easy. He felt red start to cloud his vision, the bile in his throat rising, tasted iron in his mouth. Then he was calm again and looked to the two fools, exhausted. Anger turned to bemusement. "So these are Mata-Nui's greatest heroes?" Using his spear, he stood up from the chair. "Pretty underwhelming, if you ask me." Of course they didn't ask him, but in a few months...maybe. War. He could smell it. One didn't simply raise an army and expect not to use it. Maybe, one day, he would see these two skewered on the end of a spear. The recipient of the greatest art of all. The thought brought a smile to his scarred face. From his vantage point on the chair, he could see the sky. It was a little past midday. "I'd best be getting back to Ambages. I'm sure he'll be looking for me. It " He started to stroll out of the hut, as if nothing important had happened. Nothing at all.

IC: [Klavier] "Klavier. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain Korzaa." He did not let the Matoran's frosty tone put him off. After all, he had dealt with far worse in his line of duty. "It is not a matter of if, though. I am afraid it is urgent that I speak to Toa Reordin, and the other Toa Maru as well, about a matter most important." His smile crept back in for a brief moment. "Unless you were thinking of trying to stop me, perhaps, Captain?"

IC: [ilhamotho] Now he was mad. Not because he was being interrogated, no, that didn't bother him much, but there were few things that made his angrier than presumptions about his life. Sure, he regretted his past but other people were not him and could not and would not be privy to those choices. No one judged him, certainly if those judgments were inaccurate in the extreme. "Easy lies are better than harsh ones, Leah." he spat. He suddenly moved forward, his eyes intense. "So let's get a few things straight. First, I am not a criminal. The reason I keep my name to myself is for personal reasons, not professional. Not everyone can afford to broadcast their name around town. Names have power and I'm not one to give up power lightly." For the first time, Leah noted Ilhamotho's mechanical arm, a shining finger holding up two fingers boldly in the confines of the hut. "Second, I do not know what this trip entails. I don't know why I'm here or why my employer is here. My job was for one reason: protection on the Dark Walk." No reason not to say that. Seems plenty reasonable. His eyes were calmer now, but his body refused to relax. "Third, I do not know what my employer is doing currently. Your guess is as good as mine." Truth. I have guesses but nothing definite. "Four, I keep my weapon around with me because that's just the sort of person I am...and given the current political climate, that might not be a bad idea for you, Toa Maru." He put his mechanical hand down and felt three arrows move into the locking chamber. Just in case. "Is that all the questions you have for me? Am I free to go?" His face was mixture of amusement and red-faced anger.

IC: [Klavier] With a grin, Klavier gathered up the spoils of battle and placed them back into his drenched sack. With one wave over in the general direction of the talkative Ko-Koro guard, he followed Captain Korzaa out the door. All things in time, he thought, still smiling. For the first time in a long time, things were finally going his way. Finally, he could begin his teaching, his true purpose, and find the one he had been looking for all these years. The place to start was the pieces of the chessboard, truly. And this Captain Korzaa would likely be one to aid him in this journey. So, he fought the facade of slight insanity and let his face mold into something a little less crazy and a little more relatable. "Dearest Captain..." he said, following her across the ice bridge, "I hate to impose upon you...I know we have not met or spoken, up until this point. Yet there is a favor I must ask you. I have heard much about the Toa Maru, the heroes of the island...I was hoping if it was at all possible to speak with the Toa Maru of your village, if that is not too much trouble." He shifted the bag on his back.

IC: [ilhamotho] In that brief moment, Ilhamotho wondered if he'd be able to kill this Toa, Toa Leah, more than likely(but still unconfirmed) Toa Leah Maru, protector of the island, destroyer of the Makuta. Would he be able to move quick enough, stick a few crossbow bolts into her chest or smash her head in before she could retaliate? Or would he end up dead, a bloated corpse of fish food, left to sink and rot until he returned to the dust from which he came? It would be about a fifty-fifty shot, but he'd have to strike now before she became too alert. She didn't trust him, but she wasn't combat-ready, not yet, hopefully not ever if he fired off the bolts quickly enough... but then what? Instead, he leaned back on the chair, seemingly nonchalant. "Fine. Okay. Stighar is not my name but knowing my real name would not likely help you any. And if it did(especially if it did), we would both be worse off for it." The truth was simple and complicated: Ilhamotho was not his real name. Stighar was not his real name. He did not, as far as he know, have a real name. His mother had not seen fit to give him one. He had not taken a name besides "the boy" until he had first killed. Standing over that body, knife ready in his hand, his partner had looked up with a sort of awe and told him about his eyes, how they glinted with the blood of his former opponent. Redeye. But was that truly his name? No. Not anymore. He had given that up a long time ago. It was why he changed his name everywhere he went, creating a new identity for himself at the drop of a hat. That was his life. That was his purpose. That was the only way, as far as he knew. "I am here, as I have told you, to relax. If you mean why am I here in Ga-Koro, the fact of the matter is that I'm here on business, working for my employer who has seen fit to give time off. I started wandering, letting my feet do the thinking, even I wandered in here. Figured it was a memorial, not a dwelling place and well...here I am, the subject of a most harsh interrogation." "Why not simply call me Stighar? It will be simpler for both of us. Sometimes an easy lie is better to swallow then a pointlessly hard truth." He shrugged his shoulders.

I'm really curious about what ways the Mahiki was abused. I thought it was fairly straight-forward: creating visual illusions and shapeshifting the user to a limited degree. It strikes me as one of the masks that has an interesting application in roleplaying rather than just in combat.

IC: [Klavier] Klavier's head did not move. "Ah yes, Captain. Presumably, you are the one in charge of this?" He turned and plopped the sack of heads down in front of her. For the first time, she could see the bandages that covered his eyes and his smile which seemed, to put it lightly, slightly unhinged. "In this sack, I have procured the severed heads and Kraata of fifteen servants of the former Dark Lord Makuta. I found them inside the Dark Walk where I had taken up residence." He upended the sack, the heads, Kraata, and blood(or whatever Rahkshi have in them) spilling out onto the snow. "I have heard that there is a bounty out on their heads, so I brought them here." He smiled again. "Is this pleasing to you, Captain Korzaa? Is there, in fact, a bounty on their heads?"

IC: [ilhamotho] The Vortixx was slightly caught off guard. "What's not what now? I'm a pretty simple person, gonna have to speak slower for me." Did she know that he was using a false name? Or rather, that he was using a name that he had called himself when he had fought in a civil war a long ways away a long time ago? Surely he hadn't heard of his current incarnation. Unlike before, he had not cultivated a reputation. By the by, he had kept to himself. He shook his head. No, there was no way that she could know about him. She didn't seem the type to run in the circles that would know about him. Looking at her further, he started to make some tentative conclusions.He could put two and two together; there was a high likelihood of her being one of those Toa Maru that he had heard talked about in the camp. He had never seen that mask before and if she claimed to be the guardian of the area...well, that pointed towards a Maru. All the more reason to tread carefully. "Sounds like a big jurisdiction, miss guardian," he gave a grin which he dared to hope was winning. "Surely you have some sort of name." His grip on his spear tightened once again.

IC: [ilhamotho] Surprise did not translate to Ilhamotho's face, though his hand did grip his spear a bit tighter. It was, as always, held at a slight angle from the rest of his body. His eyes regarded the new arrival warily but he did not move to strike. Reckless violence usually resulted in needless inconvenience. Also...it had been a long time since he had been out. Perhaps this was an opportunity, to seek answers that Ambages would not give him. "Peace...yes...I suppose the place is peaceful." He coughed. "I have indeed traveled far. But I'm used to it. I haven't called any place my home in a long, long time and the ache of loss is, more or less, gone. As to what brings me here...peace, I guess. The quest for it. Instead, all I found was graves. As per usual" He shook his head and chuckled. "Now I'm just rambling." Not all lies, but mostly half-truths. The peaceful part was true but the part about home? He wasn't used to it. Home still dug into his side. But that was life and he was long past self-pity. Now for a true lie. "My name is Stighar." He reached out his hand, his face betraying nothing. "Who are you, to also seek refuge in the haunts of the dead?"

IC: [Klavier] Klavier looked down at the small Matoran with a blank expression. Toa Maru was a new term, one he had not heard before, but they were probably a force to be reckoned with if they beat the Makuta. Or, perhaps, the more likely alternative is that they actually struck a deal to 'defeat' the Makuta and reaped the glory while the dark lord waited in the darkness. Whatever. Matoro was a familiar name but Klavier was having difficulty placing it. Like most of his memory, it seemed out of reach, too high for him to grasp for. Rather than worry about it, he pushed the thoughts down and answered his new escort. "I'm a prophet of truth. I tell of the future that is coming, of the present that truly is, and the past that looms like a thundercloud. I tell of the way of the Allseer, the way of truth." He gestured to the bag. "Part of that way is testing myself against those with strength. Once they expended my patience, I emerged once more. So, my reward is two-fold: the bounty I will reap for the death of these enemies of the state...and my own personal betterment." He grinned. "Perhaps when I re-emerge, you and I might speak on the subject of my prophecy."

IC: [ilhamotho] Ga-Koro was pretty nice. There was something refreshing about all of that water, how, despite the preparations for war, there was a timeless serenity to the city, like it could be bombed and destroyed and still...remain, somehow. Such thinking was dangerous, as such nostalgia had a way of leaving one unprepared but the feeling remained. A slight wind passed over the pool of water that Ambages had been glancing into. For the first time in a while, Ilhamotho felt at peace. He was no longer under Brykon's thumb, no longer bound to his army. He was free to move about. He felt his mouth tugged into a smile. Then he looked into the pool of water and the feeling dissipated. His face. He looked old, or at least older than he remembered. Worry lined his eyes and two black circles rested comfortably under them. Red and puckered scars turned a once-handsome Vortixx into a miniature graveyard. He looked old and, even worse, he looked like a warrior. A man who had seen far too much and had somehow lived to tell about his sights. It was the face of a corpse. His smile turned into a scowl. He was long past self-pity but regret still came at him like a thunderstorm. What would life be like if he had been a carpenter or a merchant, a man who built rather than torn down? He started walking, his feet taking him down leafy walkways without regard for direction. He would find his way back, retrace his steps. However, he could not retrace his steps into the past, could not go back and change his decisions, could not go back and unkill those people. His new-found freedom was limited. He was trapped by Ambages, the army he was supposed to command, and ultimately by... He found himself at a hut slightly larger than the rest. It was still leafy, green...but this one had a certain majesty and wisdom about it. He remembered hearing briefly about the mass assassination of the Turaga and wondered if this was the former Turaga Nokama's hut before she had been brutally murdered. It was sad that it was empty, but Ilhamotho supposed that the Akiri taking up residency in their old hut would have been a little...presumptuous. Instead, it stood as a memorial to lessons learned: "never again." Ilhamotho moved in towards the hut. Looked untouched, strangely. Almost like someone lived here still. Ilhamotho imagined, for a brief moment, the Turaga leaving to carry out her duties, leaving her house like she would be returning. Then she died. A brief lesson in the history of morality. Sighing, the Vortixx grabbed a chair and sat down for a moment, listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the lily pads.

IC: [Klavier] The guard was suitably frightened, his eyes two giant saucers as he regard Klavier. And that was as it should be, that was the point of the whole exercise after all. Not just to create fear. Fear, after all, was notoriously unreliable and one quickly got over it as familiarly settled in. Fear was partially based in shock and shock was fleeting, quick to pass. No, one also needed respect, deeds to back up the fear, deeds with substance. That was how men became heroes. They did deeds and those deeds shocked the world and even once the shock had past, the knowledge remained: this man had done great things. Klavier smiled, showing a full row of teeth, as the bag bounced gently behind him. He could hear the fortress, its vast expanse dwarfing the other buildings of the rest of the Koro. It was a place of command, a place of power. It inspired fear. It inspired respect. All in all, Klavier was rather impressed. The guard gulped. “We… well, we should wait here for Captain Korzaa.” he stole another glance at Klavier. “And… uh… Captain Korzaa is a ‘she’.” Klavier nodded. "Good information to know, solider. I am very interested in meeting this Captain Korzaa..." Suddenly, another guard came barreling out of nowhere. Klavier could hear her encroaching footsteps. She pushed the original guard out of the way and began to blabber. "Hey mister! That's a big bag you have there! Welcome to Ko-Koro, by the way! Unless you already live here...you look like you live somewhere else... No offense, but Ko-Koro is the best! I just wanted to point it out. I'm Lohka, by the way, what's your name? I bet you have a funny name. You look kinda funny. Well, actually, has anyone ever told you that you're kinda cute? The whole serial killer look really suits you!" Klavier coughed. "I am Klavier. I am a prophet. I am not a killer. I do not live here but I had taken up residence in your Dark Walk. No one in a long time has told me that I'm cute." That much was true; it had been a long time since he had had that sort of interaction with a woman. "Tell me, guard, what has transpired on the island in my absence? I crave news...who is in command here? Who rules now that Makuta has returned to the void?"

Oh Zuto-Nui. Now that brings back some memories. I wonder if we're going to see Wokapu or one of his numerous incarnations.

IC: [Klavier] If one wants to attract attention, one simply has to carry a giant sack of Rahkshi corpses on one's back, or in this case a giant sack of Rahkshi heads and accompanying dead Kraata, and also be blind. This combination of thing led to mutterings as Klavier paraded himself through Ko-Koro, seemingly lost in the giant city, the snow getting under his cloak and the wind rushing under them. It was uncomfortable but by the by it would be worth it. He wanted people to see him, he wanted people to remember the giant blind Toa with the sack of Rahkshi heads, just like those who saw him in Ta-Koro would remember him. Memory was important; it was the beginning. He felt the presence of a guard nearby and adjusted the sack. Turning abruptly, he stalked over to the spear-wielding Matoran. "Good day, officer. I am looking for your commander, the man in charge, to present him with the following corpses of dead Rahkshi collected in the Dark Walk. Perhaps you can lead me to him to present him with these fine specimens of Makuta sympathizers."

IC: [ilhamotho] It had been a good long time before the darkness around them began to lighten, but Ilhamotho was deep in thought in the shadowy places of his consciousness. His little jaunt through the Dark Walk had left him with no answers, even more questions, and a fairly bad taste in his mouth. All in all, a fairly poor haul, but sometimes you had to be realistic about these things and Ilhamotho had been fairly pessimistic about his possibilities anyway. Two things stuck out, two pieces of information he could tuck away: he was deep in something fairly sinister and his employer was some sort of evil wizard god. Neither thing filled him with a great deal of confidence. He still didn't know much about his employer, besides the whole shadow magic thing, he didn't know what the army was for, what the end-goal of this operation was, why they had been recruited, why they had been recruited, and most importantly who the army would be fighting. He only knew what he had known before, that they would be fighting someone. Illhamotho tucked away his lightstone as the exit of the tunnel reached up to meet them. We all require different incentives, Ilhamotho. Mine happens to be power. The only thing more dangerous than a psychopath was an honest psychopath. There was no deception in his voice, either for the Vortixx or for himself. He wanted power. What did he want to with it? Obtain more power, maybe? The entire thing was suspect but Ilhamotho supposed he had known that from the beginning. You don't just send a bunch of shady men in business attire on legitimate business. But they were moving. There was no way that Ambages, for all of his resources as High Vizier, was working alone. There had to be others. Some tugging the strings, some being pulled. Ilhamotho knew exactly where he stood, though. Puppet. Ilhamotho blinked as light flooded his vision. Soft waves rocked the beach as they stood, looking out onto the expanse of lily pads before them. They had reached Ga-Koro.

IC: [ilhamotho] The Matoran that greeted him was, suffice to say, a tad bit underwhelming. Entirely grey except for his limbs, for one thing; never a color that struck Ilhamotho as particularly exciting. Of course, he could hardly talk given his entirely black makeup but that was that. As if to further emphasize his dullness, the Matoran was also wearing a black coat, the hem muddied from who knows what. Ilhamotho was not one for hasty judgments; hasty judgments got you killed. Instead, Ilhamotho slowly lifted himself up and stood at attention. Who was this man he was supposed to escort? There was a brief moment of silence, as the Vortixx had been taught early on to never speak before spoken to when dealing with men higher ranked than you. You just didn't do it. Similarly to hasty judgments, such things were the stuff of death. Instead, he waited. Finally, the Matoran spoke: "Ilhamotho," he said. "It's good that we meet at last. My name is Ambages." He gestured ahead, down the streets. "Come with me?" Ilhamotho nodded. "It is good to meet you as well, sir." Ambages. Now there was a name he had heard before. High Vizier of Ko-Koro. Interesting person to be escorting. But what did he have to do with...well, what did he have to do with the little group they had assembled? What was he escorting him to? What was the group for in the first place? All questions that remained unasked and unanswered as the two figures trudged through the snow towards some destination. Say one thing for Illhamotho, say that he follows orders well. What he didn't expect in the course of those orders was the injured Toa. A trail of blood led deep into the mountains while cuts adorned him as if a sculptor had taken to work on him but had cut too quick and had given up. Passed out, the Toa lay there like a sleeping child, peace and contentment on his face. That is, until he woke up. Then he'd likely be screaming. The spread of his wounds were not pretty. Ilhamotho adjusted the grip on his hammer. "This one, sir, looks like he's got one foot in the grave." It was the first words he had spoken in a while and the sound of his voice startled himself. "With your permission, I can send him on his way. Likely when he wakes, well...it'll be a world of hurt with little chance of escape." It was bloody work, certainly, but sometimes you did what had to be done. He'd want someone else to do the same for him, if it came to it. "His final moments can be painful or peaceful, sir. It's your call."