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About EmperorWhenua

BioniLUG Members
Year 14
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    Senior OTC RPG Judge
  • Birthday 07/23/1992

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    Portland, Oregon

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  1. IC Yumiwak | The Rig "Yes, I guess," I replied sardonically. "There's someone who came from the Head and apparently made a mess of some Mesi and has the Warskaks interested. That happened recently enough that the tracks are still fresh. Kunok McGrokk knows more, so we're going to ask him a few questions." I kicked the informant's corpse, maybe to check if he had any life left in him, or maybe just because I was bored. Leaving him there was an option but an unsightly one. Where was my big strong one? "Korio! Throw this cool dude into the bay. And then we're taking the Panda to the shore. "There's someone with cool pants I need to take." I didn't expect anyone to have any idea what the last line was about. And did I mean the pants or the person?
  2. IC Stannis | Metru Koro "A war party?" the Wanderer said, curiously looking towards Falh. He didn't bother to move his torch, but his bright pearly eyes drank Falh's visage in as if they were in bright daylight with a chilling certainty that could send a shiver even down the ice toa's spine. "The word I heard was this was an effort to protect the refugees, but perhaps someone should elucidate on the how. Please, for my benefit," he said, not to anyone in particular.
  3. IC ???? | Archives Okuo's swearing was abruptly censored by the same Vault AI's tinny voice that cheerily welcomed him back. "Hello again Toa Okuo, Scavenger of Metru Nui! You were quick! I wish Toa Stannis of the Maru was this quick. " IC Stannis | Metru Koro "Despite all the odds that wished the opposite, I somehow yet live," Stannis admitted. "The same that could be said of all of us."
  4. IC Stannis | Metru Koro The old toa remained behind while everyone else around Turaga Sans' hut entered as bidden. There was no need for him to go in and discuss the matter of going to the Kumu Islets; he did not approve of the sojourn but he could not prevent it from going, and perhaps Sans had wisdom in what he connived. Stannis remained concerned, what sort of impact the group's trip would have on the morale of the refugees who were already fearful and anxious. If Waveahk succeeded somehow in getting to the southern tip of the land and then return, they would bring back sensational stories of the Aspects that could drive the others to fear them once they realized the nature of these beings; and if the worst happened and they did not return... well, their absence would cause unease all the same. Still, he admitted with a shrug, Mata Nui works in mysterious ways. He resolved to seek out Waveahk out before the steltian mutant left, hoping that at least he could prepare him for the journey he was about to embark on, and maybe even incentives the Hunter to success for a more communal goal. The Wanderer walked away from Sans' hut and back through the maze of tents and shelters that composed Metru Koro's districts but was harried by Matoran who hailed him to speak with the closest thing to a prophet they had. For all, particularly those who remained faithful to Mata Nui, answers and reassurances were sparse while the worries and questions were infinite. Their god had seemingly disappeared from their lives, their lands were taken by warlords who defied Mata Nui, and lastly their very universe had crumbled away and crashed on a strange world. They were desperately seeking some sign—any sign—that Mata Nui yet lived. To his incredible regret, Stannis could not give them that, but he could stoke a hope that things had happened for a reason because he believed that to be true himself. It was as he sat around a crackling firepit, speaking with a Po-Matoran who whittled at a block of wood while reliving stories of the Battle for Metru Nui, that he heard the most recent development that gave him pause. He mentioned Toa Arkius in a matter of passing when the matoran looked up from his carving. "Arkius? You know, that toa's about to head out of this place on some... well I guess you could call it an 'expedition.' He's been assembling heroes and sheroes to go deal with some local Skakdi marauder." "He is, is he?" Stannis said, perking up a brow as he puffed his pipe animatedly. The white smoke rose away in a dense billow of milky white that quickly was swallowed up by the dimming nighttime air. "Tell me more." "Not much to say, honestly. He nailed a poster to the billboards Turaga Sans erected around town. Says he wants to 'teach the Skaks a lesson' and 'protect the Matoran.' That sound like your friend?" Stannis nodded quietly as he reflected. "He always was an eager one for a fight—very brave, but sometimes stubborn. He possesses a heart of gold, however, and remains a dependable ally. Do you know when he plans to depart?" "Well, soon, I reckon. I think he is gathering his posse at the main gate, but I don't know if he's leaving yet. Heard word about that, anyway," the matoran said with a shrug. "Really? I should like to say hello to him, then! We have not seen each other since before the Battle, I'm sure he will take joy from seeing me. You may come as well if you want..." "Mmm, nah. You'll be back though, I know it. You always come back. Maybe one day I'll make a carving of you, eh?" Stannis gestured dismissively to the idea as he got up. "I am long past caring for statues in my likeness, old friend," he said humbly. "But I will see you again." "Suit yourself," the matoran said, admiring the process he'd made on the block. "Ahhh, another Hafu original." *** The august toa of stone held aloft a torch that illuminated his great grey cloak with dancing light and his shadow fluttered seemingly in sync with the flickering flames. Nobody stopped him then, his path too assured to halt and his visage too unrecognizable for most to call him by name. Once again he was simply a dark wanderer, one of many on the strange new land. He wondered what Arkius was up to, and furthermore hoped to help the frought toa of earth stay true. Stannis served in times of war while he was not a warrior himself; in contrast, Arkius was a man of war who struggled to find place in times of peace, and possessed in him certain... troubles. Above all, however, he was Stannis' friend, and because of that bond the Wanderer wished the best for the man. He recounted when he last saved Arkius' life, on the Taku after a last bout with the resurrected Vyarik. Arkius was battered, bruised, even partially broken. It took much of Stannis' focus to restore him to health. His body was ravaged by trauma, bloodied both by his own and Vyarik's, and the damages dealt to his body were further helped by the enfeeblement the lack of his kanohi caused. The Mask of Kinetics itself had seemed to betray its user, and shards of it were embedded as shrapnel on Arkius' face as a painful reminder of what even the most familiar masks of power could do if pressed too far. Beyond that, however, Stannis could feel something else killing the earth toa from inside, a wound in pride, perhaps, or more likely something much darker, a poison in his soul that caused him to have such volatility beneath his bravado. The Wanderer sighed deeply and stifled a tear, but soon closed his eyes and began to pray. "Mata Nui, grant me the power..." he started, and then paused. It grieved him; not the sight of injury or blood, nor even that it was his friend who had been nearly destroyed, but that he could not do as much as he wanted... Or needed. Toa Arkius' sufferings were a thing he could give some relief from, but he had no cures. It was a pattern he tried to subvert time and time again across the known universe, and despite his firm belief that he went where Mata Nui gently guided him like a boat along the sea's many currents he always sought to make a difference, to improve others, to fixtheir problems. He could not fix Arkius just as he could not fix Metru Nui, or the war, or much of anything. Still, he reminded himself, things would be worse had he not done what he could. Knichou was testament of that, the other Ghosts, even just the friends he had somehow become surrounded by again on the Taku. Surrender was not an option, not to enemies he could fight and not to feelings that clawed at his will. He would try, even when he felt he could not, else he did not have the Faith to truly be called a prophet. "... Grant me the power to save life. Grant me the ability to heal bodily injuries, mend broken bones, seal armor breaks, and extract from the body the things that caused such harms. May I be able to do such healing insofar as the body will allow, and that I cannot restore what is incomplete. May the Great Spirit grant me this request. Amen." He exhaled and in the same turn gave new life into Arkius. His Kanohi glowed, dimly at first, and then brightly, pulsating with each breath he took as he touched the many tears, wounds, gaps, and dislocations all over the toa's body, leaving behind mended armor and sealed scars. Of the shards on his face, he plucked them one by one, and with a wave of his hand he bound those cuts as well. After what seemed to take forever, but was truly only the span of ten minutes, he was finished. Arkius was whole again, mostly. At least in body. Stannis had done what he could. But as he wordlessly walked away from the recovering body of the fallen hero, Stannis could not help but notice a niggling feeling that while he had mended the mortal wounds, there were some injuries that cut far too deep and were far too old that rested in Arkius' psyche and heart that were far beyond the paltry healing tricks Stannis could summon with his old imagination, and it was the wounds that remained unseen that Stannis feared could harm Arkius the most. "Brother Arkius!" The Wanderer hailed from the darkness of the dimming dusk. He lowered his hood to reveal his weathered face, and the mischievous false grimace of feigned injury. "Are you so busy making new friends that you do not care for an old one?"
  5. IC Yumiwak | The Rig I took to standing just around the corner from Yoshimak's Hotpot 'n' Sushi, down the ramshackle alley that separated the establishment from the linen dyer next door and opened up to small section of deck big enough to accommodate three beings and overlooked a sludge dump. I lazed there, waiting for my crew to usher the patron to me, and rested my weight upon the creaking metal balustrade already crusted with salt and rust. It was not a glamorous place but it was practical since there was no way out except back up the alley to my watchful crew or into the increasingly toxic water. I didn't want to murder this skak, I just needed him to tell me what I wanted to know, but the more afraid he was the more like he was to share. "Ah-kay! Ah-kay!!" I heard him protest as Korio shoved him unceremoniously down the length of the alley. The man seemed unconcerned, which was either brave or stupid—time would tell which—and toyed with a toothpick in his mouth. "Thank you, Kor. Wait in the linen shop, and have Zai stand nearby," I commanded before turning to the Skakdi... well I guess you could call him an 'informant,' I guess? "Hi—" "Ello." "You know some stuff I am interested in, about the visitors from outer space," I stated clearly, "and I want you to tell me what you know." "Like whart?" "There is something about the people who came from that giant head that scares you. What is it?" "Ohh. Well, little miss drag'n princ'ss, tha's where ya're wrong. Cuz nothin' scares me!" I was beginning to hate this fellow, and the fact that he dared crack a joke about my heritage upset me further to the point of severely trying my very generous patience. I glowered at him and pulled my grin up in a super fake-looking smile, the way a customer service representative looked when a client was ranting to contest their coupon's lack of validity. Yes, I'm going to tolerate you. Yes, I want to disembowel you. And no, I am the manager. Speaking through my teeth to sieve my growing displeasure, I rumbled at him, "That's your problem. But in your noggin, not all that far in, you know something about something some other people fear. Let me be clear here: I don't care about you or your life, and I only want what you know. You can share willingly, or I'll bring Zai over and we'll pull what you have out through your ears, then cook your brain like an oyster in its shell. Now, what's it going to be, friend?" He paused a moment and cocked his head to the side as though looking at some grotesque art exhibit. I copied his gesture. He held a moment more and then looked away. He understood it was well within my power and character to deliver on what I said. "Aight. Is not much, but mebbe thi's' whart yer asking about, ye ####ing psycher. I dun' know this first-hand, er even second, but ah few nights ago there was word... o' ah biiiig beefy lady who got attack'd in the mid'l o' tha night by a band o' Mesi. Fought 'em off. Cum daybreak, sum Warskaks found the Mesi who still lived an' heard tha tale. Only bits an' pieces about tha girl—yanno how Mesi are, not very wordy, but, word is... the big beefy lady has sum really cool pants." The informant fidgeted with his toothpick some more and continued to look at me. My inpatience was being sated with his divulsions, but "Where did this happen?" I asked. He shrugged. "Dunno, guess you'll gotta ask the guy who told me. Name's Kunok McGrokk, trader who has a general store on the coast. He knows." "Thank you." I smiled, plucked his toothpick from his mouth, leaned forward as if to kiss his cheek in gratitude, and snapped his neck. Someone else with cool pants? Heresy.
  6. IC ????? | Archives "Okay, goodbye, Toa Okuo! You are always a 'Welcome one! '"
  7. IC ????? | Archives "Why are you leaving!? " the voice cried out as Okuo fled. "There's nothing to be afraid of! I can protecc! "
  8. IC Stannis | Metru Koro Stannis was suddenly very alarmed. These slugs were exactly what he had seen depicted on the walls of the temples in the foul southron Swamp. "Where were these gotten?" he asked, his tone and posture betraying little of what he truly felt.
  9. IC ????? | Archives "Okay! I will not. " The rustle of something large scuffling in the shadows could be heard echoing through the crooked chambers, somewhere between near and far. "Oh! My manners! I did not provide feedback for your previous request. The answer is: A secret! "
  10. IC ????? | Archives "That is up to you, Toa Okuo, " the voice chirped back. "I see you are trying to hack into this vault. By that, I assume Toa Stannis of the Maru did not give you authorization or the passcode for access for this vault."
  11. IC ????? | Archives "Thank you, but some of this information is actually not new! " A pause. "But the rest does explain the significant uptick in Rahi sightings... " @Onaku
  12. IC Stannis | Metru Koro The old man, however, took the steltian's accusations in stride. His eyes narrowed further. "If you know half as much as you think you know, then you should know to be careful about wielding that knowledge," he said. "Or did Sans tell you to assemble your little expedition yourself?"
  13. "Yes, and, who are you? Who is 'Toa Okuo' to the world? " the voice pressed, sounding annoyed and yet not impatient. "I am up-to-date on all current events in the known universe as of... one.hundred.and.three hours and... forty.one minutes ago! " Okuo might have realized this statement was in sync with the approximate time Dume was killed and the whole world went into chaos.
  14. IC ????? | Archives "Not your dungeon, not your questions! " the voice chirped back. "Who are you? And"—the voice changed to that of a deeper and more menacing tone suddenly, as though spoken by a great ogre—"what are you doing in my swamp!? ...That was a joke. "
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