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Vezok's Friend

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About Vezok's Friend

Year 14
  • Rank
    Lehvak-Kal Launched
  • Birthday 06/25/1990

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  • Gender
    Male
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    Billund, Chamber of Design secrets
  • Interests
    LEGO designer working in Billund on the LEGO City design team.

    I have a bachelors degree in Gamedesign and on the side I am continuing to improve my skills as a concept artists and illustrator.

    Since it is one of my main activities, I am very much into art-books from Movies and Games and things relating to it: Fantasy, Sci-Fi and regular Fiction all have a place in my book-shelf.

    My real expertise lies in putting images from my head onto paper in pencil and ink and in using ye olde Photography Shoppe, where I work a bit of magic with my tablet and trusty computer.

    Obviously, though working for LEGO now, I'm still an AFOL. I still build MOCs when I can and I look forward to sharing whatever I get to next with the community! However in-between those occasions you can mostly find me in the BZPRPG.

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    Bordahk77

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  1. IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]: “Well, you found me following the trail of corpses I left behind, so you know a little of what I am capable of already. But if those poor sods were any indication of what the bottom of society looks like on this Zakaz, then it would appear you are already in the hierarchy’s top tier and quite wealthy enough to convince or hire people to join your cause- as you’ve already done.” “Unfortunately I don’t know what exactly your cause is. So in regards to what I can do for you, without some more specifics, I’m afraid my answer may cover the entire spectrum from ‘plenty’ to ‘very little’.” The warlord thought of more things to say, but decided to wait for Yumiwak's reply first. There was little point in explaining that she herself had held very little faith in Mata Nui as a god in the first place. Or that she had not the slightest clue why the head had fallen, except for belonging to an extremely decrepit body. Obviously Yumiwak wanted power of some kind, but this wasn’t so much about the end-goal but the means of how to achieve it. She was willing to fight, but if the Skakdi princess was going to start a war or seek to dominate all life on her island, that would go far beyond the scope of Zataka’s offer of assistance - what good was being owed a favor if you might not be alive to collect it. At the same time, Zataka knew the Skakdi weren’t fools. They knew she had a desire to go back and they would ask for as much as they could get in return, probably much more than a simple airlift back to the fallen head was actually worth. But that was business.So be it. She could do business. IC: [Takadox - Ruins of Fire] The warlord was slowly piecing things together in his mind, which as racing at this point - these aspects were ancient, and some more than others. The heartlights were a way for a lesser being to ascend - while apparently helping the one offering that boon a boost in power in turn - towards this grand wish. And if each aspect had one - what wish did an elder aspect like Spiriah aspire to...and more importantly: How close were they to achieving it? IC [Coliseum]: The group of assassin’s turned guests of the Coliseum were not left alone in the lounge for long. Shortly after the receptionist Vortixx left, the door slid open once more, and a Vahki stepped in. At first glance it looked like a Keerahkh but the configuration didn’t quite match. A Kanohi was dangling from a chain around its neck and it was carrying a rucksack of sorts. It’s head swiveled, scanning the occupants of the room. Then, having identified the ones that were most injured it moved decisively into the middle of the room. “You are in need of medical assistance.” It’s tone was neutral, to the point where it might have been a statement or a question. IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire The administrator made a noise...it sounded digital, distorted...was that a chuckle? “Now that is a very good question. What end indeed? So many variables to consider! Even the wisest could not foretell all - which is why they left these places behind.” OOC: Sorry, no tags today, short on time.
  2. IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire After a brief delay, no-one in particular replied as usual in their disembodied voice: “Yes, the passage is open and yes, disks of that power level exist. Existed? Either way, they’re real enough.” “Apologies, my attention was required briefly elsewhere.” the administrator said. “There is an uncommon uptake in activity as of late - though not an unwelcome one. It has been a very long time.” The instant Enra passed the threshold of the final chamber to leave it, the device in her hand disappeared. There was no noise, no alarming effect. One instant the device was in hand, the next it was gone. No, wait - not gone. Looking about the chamber again, the duo found the device was once again located atop its pedestal, as if they had never laid hands on it. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui IC [Takadox - Fire Ruins]: “They weren’t just harboring that aspect...they worship it…” Takadox replied, the words coming slowly as he contemplated his ordeal again. He wondered how old the aspect at his side was, to gain some perspective and perhaps insight into the creature he’d almost been sacrificed to - just how ‘powerful and ancient’ were they in comparison to the likes of Providence and Whira, that they commanded seemingly endless hordes of these Mesi while sitting at the bottom of a well? He was just about to ask Providence his age, when their own Mesi companion suddenly caused a ruckus. The warlord was surprised - not just by Zak-Yak’s brash move, but his turning towards Varian instead of Providence. The Mesi clearly thought the Exo-Toa was an aspect as well? Or did they? This was all very strange indeed - and not without some worrying implications: Aspects seemingly came in all forms and sizes, but if they could appear in such familiar shapes as well - he would have to be extremely cautious from here on out if it was this hard to tell whether you were talking to the genuine article or... And then there was his own initial instinct: to diffuse the situation. If things escalated, it would be a small thing to pacify most of those present with a liberal application of his hypnotic powers...but not yet. Takadox waited. This whole argument had turned into a wonderful learning opportunity for the once-king Barraki. Through their sacrificial desecrations, these aspects had found a very quantifiable way to divide and vie for power amongst their kind - for all intents and purposes, they’d built an economy. Somehow - and he wasn’t sure how yet - there had to be a way to use that. “But Providence is friends with the blue one, the blue one tried to kill us also. And Master Varian hasn't given us blessing, he even tried to leave us back in Mesi cave." “In fairness, you were rather hard to tell apart in the dark from all the others attempting to gift-wrap me with my own innards.” Thunk THUNK Takadox’ brow furrowed, imperceptibly. Watching was well and good but with the arrival of this miniature...mobile fortress, for lack of a better word, the argument for action in service of self-preservation was pretty strong. The Barraki looked at Cravious. “Kindly, stand down and tell your people to point those weapons at the trees instead of us.” OOC: @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Burnmad IC [Coliseum]: The Vortixx slowly, hesitantly emerged from cover behind the rock barriers. Apparently they...still had a job? They exchanged a very mixed look with Achro, before composing themselves. The customer service smile was very odd, worn by someone otherwise worn out from battle. “...certainly.” was all they said in response to the instructions, before gesturing to the ‘guests’ who wouldn’t have hesitated to take their head off a few moments earlier, to usher them out of the throne room again. Show them to their rooms...sure, because the Coliseum is also a hotel and we always have rooms ready...not. The Voritxx pulled out the tablet again and began quickly swiping, before stumbling across a solution that would be satisfying enough for now. It wasn’t a hotel, but the Coliseum had other facilities. The secretary led those that were following them a little ways down the corridor that encircled the administration level of the coliseum. If they decided to not follow or do something else, then that was certainly a case of Not-my-problem™. The ones that did follow however, found themselves shortly in a meeting lounge, fully furnished with comfortable couches and recliners, tastefully arranged in a lower section of the room around a central hearth with a conical extractor for the smoke above. Plant beds were placed irregularly around the room and integrated into the floor. They equally opened it up and provided an outdoor feeling, while also dividing it into smaller sections that afforded a degree of privacy. This was where the universes’ mighty had once mingled, made small talk and then disappeared to some secluded corner to make their deals. “We weren’t expecting...guests. So there is no buffet prepared. But there are fridges stocked with beverages and snacks that you are welcome to.” the Vortixx explained to those present, still sounding apprehensive despite their best efforts not to. “Those requiring medical attention, someone will come by shortly. If you require anything else, I will be back at my desk...I suppose.” OOC: @Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Toru Nui@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Eyru@Tarn
  3. IC: [Takadox - Ruins of Fire] The warlord had followed the Exo-Toa outside as well. This desecration business sounded quite fascinating and he was glad to have a little less attention on him. Some part of him noted that he used to love having all eyes on him. But that was when they were all subservient to him. There...was a lot to unpack there and work through. But later. Right now, perhaps this ritual was a way for him to gain the power to reclaim his dignity properly? But he quickly distanced himself from those fancy ideas as soon as he overheard what the process actually entailed. However, hearing it explained so directly made something click for him - pieces of a puzzle that had been swirling round the back of his mind fell suddenly into place - and not in a good way: “That’s what those sightless maniacs in the tunnels wanted me for…that thing in the pit was one of these aspects…” he muttered to himself. The realization how close he’d come to getting his insides turned into an offering to some dark being sent a shiver down his spine. But the revelation in his thoughts didn’t stop there...he remembered getting dragged through some kind of temple along the way and the blind Shaman chanting something in the dark...if the sacrifice was only the beginning, maybe they were linked? He looked around, trying to see if Providence had stuck around. Maybe they knew more... OOC: @Burnmad IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire “The first digit denotes the point of origin and flight characteristics, the second digit its power, the third the level of that power. Based on the inscription, this device requires a ninth level disk of growth forged in - hmm, there seems to be a database error regarding the point of origin.” OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler
  4. IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire “This device is designed to fit a specific Kanoka disk into the receptacle. Shoving is not required. Please consult the podium to ensure the disk has the required designation.” OOC: @Toru Nui @Nato the Traveler
  5. IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire Enra found that the device was bolted to the podium, but that with enough applied force, those anchors would eventually yield as well. The arm the receptacle for the disk was mounted to was adjustable, able to be moved up and down with relative ease, probably to accommodate for the many different sizes of beings that might find themselves in this chamber. As Enra worked, the administrator finally spoke up: “Please do not tamper with the device. It is required to proceed further.” OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui IC [Kunok McGrokk]: “Well I’ll be…” Kunok muttered, left otherwise speechless by the sight of the Tahtorahk laying waste to the rig, silhouetted against the horizon. A massive shape, hard to discern in the downpour of rain. The Skakdi trader stood on the roof of his storage building, watching the carnage in the distance unfold with a spyglass fashioned from a telescope. It was fortunate that his shoppe was far enough inland and away from the rig proper to not be in the massive creature’s swath. He watched until the monstrosity moved off, leaving the settlement in ruin. Then he sent out messenger Rahi birds to some associates he knew to be smart enough to survive. There was salvage that needed claiming.
  6. IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]: The Skakdi definitely had gotten the warlord’s attention. Zataka nodded along slowly with Ysocla’s words as well, waiting a second or two after she’d finished to consider her reply. The confident smirk disappeared from her features, replaced by a hard, serious expression. She remembered her arrival in Metru Nui, just days ago. ‘I’m here to help’, she had told them, and meant it. So did Ysocla, as far as her mask was concerned. She had to admit, the Skakdi had her there. She would not slap away a helpful hand. Except there was one thing: Prisoner. She’d figured that was the case - or at least how this Yumiwak regarded her - but everyone had been trying to keep up the veneer of civility to the point nobody had said it out loud. Which made the talk of assistance and allies, however genuine on Ysocla’s part, reek of coercion. To the Skakdi, she was a captive. At least that meant they were done beating around the bush... “Very well. All valid points. I appreciate the honesty.” The warlord let out a deliberate long breath. “You’re right, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. You want to know more so you can help me? Then allow me to reintroduce myself: I am Zataka. Warlord Zataka, of the Southern Isles. They're part of the universe that giant cranium on the horizon came from - the head of a god, if you believe in that sort of thing. The rest, including my home, is still in orbit around this planet. Look up at night and you might even spot it with your naked eye. Now I don’t know what their status is, whether or not anything survived up there. There’s no way to tell, but there is a chance that they made it. And as long as my people might still be alive, I have to find a way to get back to them.” At this point she turned to look at Yumiwak again. “I am sure you can relate, princess.” She might not have known her much either yet, but whether it was for selfish reasons or more genuine, the Skakdi leader cared for her people as well. The titan focused back on Ysocla. “The best place to start is to check what's left of the head, to see if anybody else made it out. That’s where I was headed when you found me. That’s still where I’m going. And there’s no putting hold on that.” She let that last bit hang in the air for a heartbeat. “You may think of me as a prisoner, but make no mistake: I am on this ship because I chose to be. Because it presents a chance to help me get to where I need to be sooner. And don’t take this as a threat, but I am also capable of leaving it again at any time.” ”Now, if you truly wish to help me and give me your word, I will honor that and help you in turn. And since my goal is to leave your world again, I can hardly offer you an IOU. So I am willing to work with you, as long as it serves our mutual interests.” “You know where I stand, the question is: what exactly do you want from me? OOC: @pokemonlover360 @EmperorWhenua @Tarn
  7. IC [Coliseum]: Yes, finally! I was back in my element. With every clash of our blades, I could feel the strength I’d missed for so long returning to me, and I couldn’t have felt better. I barely noticed that Oreius had survived unscathed, despite blocking my blade with his bare hands. I followed through with a kick and as my foot connected, I was ecstatic! Still, this much resistance to damage was a mystery worthy of consideration. He wore no armor or mask that would explain it - some mutation or natural ability then? How far did this ability extend? There was no such thing as true immortality - the risen dead were not their old selves and even the gods died, visible for all to see. A mere Toa, no matter how skilled, would not be exempt. If I could not break his body, I would use his body to break him. I moved in again before the Toa had a chance to get back on his feet. I seized his sword arm with my free hand, planted my own feet - one on the Toa's chest, the other on the ground - to get sure footing and wrenched it around. If I could dislocate or break the limb, his neck would… BLAM! My experiment was rudely interrupted. I couldn’t tell if it had worked or not, whether or not Oreius was as impervious as he seemed. I was spun around, searing pain in my side pulling my mind back into focus, just in time to feel a second impact and something rip through my lower back. I snarled, eyes zeroing in on Rose, revolver still raised and smoking. I blocked a third shot with my sword and activated my mask, pulling her in range of my sword. Maybe I had eradicated her people, maybe her anger was justified to some degree, but how could any perceived slight against her compare to the injustice our own people had suffered at the hands of her like? One foot still pinning Oreius to the floor, I kept the other red Toa suspended in mid-air, I lifted my sword towards her face, the edge resting against her mask. My breath rasped as a I spoke but I paid it no mind. “Remind me again how your people suffered - I want to hear it!” “Come on, you were so eager a moment ago, remind me how...” Grey eyes stared at me. I saw them past Rose, standing behind the rest of my foes. That lone figure, just standing there. And those forsaken granite eyes again that I’d hoped never to see again, gazing at me with all the sadness and certainty of inevitability. That was simply not possible. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. My most recent defeated enemy gazed at me from beyond his grave at the foot of the coliseum, a specter or illusion. Why? Why his ghost? Of all the dead I knew, why him? Not Mantax, Carapar or Kalmah. Not even my father. Why the old fool? What was the universe trying to tell me with this apparition? Did I wish for him to see the demise of his allies so badly, to ensure he was cognisant of his failure to the point I conjured up his image? Taken off-guard, Aurax’ ACR slammed into me. I yelled and slashed at it blindly as I was swept off of my feet, my eyes still on the mirage watching me. A moment later we crashed into the wall, concrete cracking from the combat-suits impact. I tried to wriggle myself free and felt warmth spread down my midst. I growled, and briefly tore my gaze off of the spectre and saw the hilt of the ACRs blade press against my sternum. That explained the lack of movement and pain. I lifted my sword and plunged it into the mechanical arm that had run me through, then yanked the hilt of my sword sideways, cutting the appendage off at the midpoint before knocking the whole machine over with my mask. With it out of the way, I fell from the wall to my knees. An orange blur descended upon me. Bold of Aurax he would get a chance to backstab me a third time today! With effort, I swung my sword as hard as I could, fed by the very strength the previous attack had granted me. My insides burned with the sudden movement around the sharp object firmly embedded in them - but I managed to bat aside the incoming scythe and it struck the floor with a clang. His momentum carried the Toa forward and I lacked the speed to evade. Aurax crashed into me and we stumbled, until we hit the wall again. The impact dislodged the ACRs blade and the jolt of pain served as inspiration. I held on to Aurax tightly and spun us around so it was him with his back to the wall now. I had my arm across his throat, pushing hard, and looked the Toa in the eyes. “You want my crown so bad, hm? Have a taste of what it’s like wearing it!” With my free hand, I yanked the loosened ACR blade out by what was left of the arm and plunged it into him, returning the favor of having the blade turned against its owner, much like he had turned against me. I smiled through the pain. “Yeah, you can hit me. But you can’t kill me. I can’t lose. No way I can lose.” I staggered backwards, then turned around. Everything hurt, and that was good. Pain meant you were still alive. But some part of me also recognized the hole in my chest was a very bad sign, no matter how invigorated I felt otherwise. My vision blurred for a heartlight beat, and I looked up to see if the ghost was still there. And indeed he was, now standing by my throne. I forced myself back upright. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything I won I’d lost. Everyone I’d trusted betrayed me. Everyone I killed didn’t die. And despite feeling alive I also couldn’t help feel I was on my way out. What a rahi forsaken day… I started to walk, as best I could. I could hear dripping with every step. No matter. Takea needed to swim to survive, to move forward. Never stop moving forward. Never...stop... “Why? Why you!? Why do you haunt me!?” I challenged the apparition. If it answered, I didn’t hear it. My legs gave out at the bottom of the dais. My sword clattered on the steps as it slipped from my grasp. Eyes blurring, I tried to hold on to the spectre as much as possible. I spoke. Whether to Stannis or the living, I wasn't sure. It didn't matter. “The throne comes with...with burdens…impossible to be...shirked.” “Y-you’re gonna carry that weight...” “...ta-take...care...o-of...ou...our…” The last word was so soft, it was barely a whisper. “...people.” OOC: Goodbye Pridak. I almost felt sorry for you. @Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Toru Nui@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Eyru@Tarn
  8. Regarding boss fights: Hey everyone, I wanted to quickly address something. I’d hoped not to have to write this, but I noticed something over the last couple of days while writing the Pridak bossfight that I want to curb before it becomes a habit: attacks are not landing, or are being significantly minimized. This is a serious fight, and an important moment, let’s not cheapen it. Obviously we all want to indulge in our bonkle’s epic powers every now and then, but if there’s no struggle, there’s no accomplishment either. As a fictional boxer once said: It’s not about how hard you can hit. It’s how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” I want to remind everyone of the rules for PVP and auto-hits in Six Kingdoms. Expect to see GM auto-hits to help encourage the significance of these kinds of scenes moving forward. So far, this fight has been a joy to write with all of you. Play well!
  9. IC [Pridak - Coliseum]: I eyed the two Toa facing me, listening to Rose’s words. Why did I listen? I couldn’t tell you. I just felt compelled for some forsaken reason to hear her out. So I did. “I understand. And I’m sorry...” I said as she’d finished. I spoke quietly, briefly glancing down at my sword, breaking eye-contact with her, despite the weapon trained on me. “I’m sorry I don’t remember any of it. it sounds glorious. You see, the day the league came to liberate your shores was the most important day of your life. But for me…?” “For me it was just another day’s work.” "You think just because you conquered the city you're invincible. But you're no king. You're no god. You're a failure, constantly hiding in a warsuit. And now that you're out of it..." A failure? The notion caught me completely off guard. Never! No, I don’t think so. Well...maybe? No. Not entirely. Possibly? Fine, yes. If we’re being honest. Sure, I failed. Failed at many things, quite often in fact. All the time. I’d failed thousands of years ago to create a fair society. All we'd wanted was our fair share. That's how you become a 'warlord': Ask for what is rightfully yours. And everything I'd done since has been one attempt after another to fix that. You look at what’s been going on lately? What can you call that, except failure? If I never failed, these annoyances surrounding me would have been relegated to the scrap heap of history long ago and I would gaze upon a grateful universe from this throne towering above a functional, liberated city. But no, instead we were in a wreck, I was forced to activate the very Vahki we’d fought against just to bolster my numbers again and even those were less than ideal. What a conquest indeed! And I was still waiting for confirmation that Metru Koro was turned to rubble. A few dozen survivors right on our doorstep and we just couldn’t get rid of them? No, instead the people I send out to do the work turn traitor with delusions of grandeur. Take this Toa mocking me, for example. Tried a backstab,, opportunist that he is, then spent the entire fight on the defensive, dodging like a prey Rahi. And now he was talking big smack. Give me a break. And as for my being king: That’s no feeling. That's a fact. "...you'll die like Mata Nui did." I heard the crash, spotted the ACR that had busted through the door raising its weapon. “You first!” I snapped and yanked Aurax into the path of the projectiles with my mask. The movement off to my right barely registered. The next instant a searing hot pain spread across my side, the impact spun me sideways. My eyes snapped onto the hunched Toa. Oreius of the Maru...he and his ilk had resisted the league for as long as I can remember. But now he was the last. And he fought like he knew it too. I only just managed to keep my footing with the help of my sword to brace myself. I drew in a ragged breath. I hadn’t even felt the air being driven from my lungs by this cowardly attack. I looked down, half expecting to see my insides spilled across the floor. The quickly spreading stain implied as much. But what should have been a fatal cut was a flesh wound. My breathing quicking as the adrenaline coursed through my veins, that old familiar feeling taking hold once again. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like, encased in the armor: War. My old friend. I’d spent so much time commanding from the rear, dealing with my fellow regents, trying to build the society that grew in our wake...all far away from where the fighting was. And as time had passed, I had diminished until I practically lived in my armor. It kept me alive - but not living. No. I finally realized why I'd felt so low as of late, what had kept my spirits down and my mind unfocused: I needed the pain, destruction, carnage. The smell of battle and the cries of the doomed and dying. This was where I came into my own, where I was home. I could feel the strength return, gripped my sword tight and launched my counter-attack on Oreius. OOC: Uh oh, is that a second health bar? Actually no. This one’s done. Stick a fork in ‘em.@Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Toru Nui@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Eyru@Tarn
  10. IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire They rearranged the pipes, and then it was once again time to hit the ignition switch. Once pushed, they eyed the forges plumbing carefully, alert for any sign of another malfunction. A hissing noise rose, growing incredibly loud, as if some great beast had awakened. The metal of the pipes groaned audibly as they were once again put to the test. The gauges climbed as the pressure inside the machinery built up. The flames that once again sprung to life inside the forge chamber ran through the spectrum, starting at the previously seen orange, before heating up to blue and then white-hot with a roar. Enra and Xane could feel the floor grating vibrate beneath their feet, which also grew in intensity. At first there was a worry that this was merely the prelude to the machine shaking itself apart, but their solution held steady, with the gauges just below the red line. Then there was a thunk, and the trio noticed the source of the rumbling: Pistons and other actuators, driven by the forge’s pressure began to move, revealing a doorway on the far side of the room: a gap of white light, that grew wider as the machinery did its work. "Interesting approach." was the only comment the administrator made. "Access to the final chamber has been granted. Please proceed." Beyond, the group found a corridor lined by more piped, leading into a large, hexagonal chamber. The floor was covered in black, pumice gravel, the walls were mostly unadorned protodermis and rose seemingly endless above them, appearing to vanish at a point where the light became too intense to keep looking up. At the center of the chamber rose a pedestal, and from the pedestal a contraption, not unlike a Matoran telescope. But instead of a lens crystal, there was a receptacle for what could only be a Kanoka disk. Inscribed into the base of the pedestal was a numeric sequence: 1-5-9. And on the far side of the contraption, written in the wall in large, Matoran letters was a single word: NUVA OOC: Congratulations, @Toru Nui@Nato the Traveler@Eyru IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]: Considering you drawing breath right now, I clearly haven’t killed every native I’ve met...yet. “Is that right?” Zataka asked, looking from Ysocla to Yumiwak and back. The other Skakdi could suggest whatever offer she wanted, without her leader’s approval those words were clearly hollow. “If you want the really juicy details, you’re going to have to do better than “we might try”. OOC: @pokemonlover360@EmperorWhenua IC [Takadox - Fire Ruins]: The warlord gave a nod of gratitude. “I appreciate that, I…” He stopped as a very loud Skakdi entered the chamber, asking to be...desecrated? Oh dear. OOC: @Snelly
  11. IC [Coliseum]: The traitor Toa continued to back up until the path was blocked by one of the stone barriers Stannis had placed. Aurax had jumped in the ring with me to take a cheap shot and missed. Now his cowardice was about to bite him back. I had him now. No point in further dragging this out. In a flash my blade was up, poised to fell the traitor in one slice. Just like I had been taught. For a fraction of a fraction of a second I saw myself back home in my youth, carefully watched by my mentors as I practiced my swordsmanship against the training dummies. Father would have been proud. My grip tensed and I swung - and then my vision erupted with white flashes, I felt a jolt of electricity from my shoulder as circuits ruptured, my knees buckled from a sudden impact. Something exploded by my head, and suddenly the room was spinning. ----- Looking down the sights of her gun, Rose saw Waveahk land atop the warlord, just as she squeezed the trigger. The Steltian’s sword, driven by his mass, dug deep into the armor, severing servos and conduits in an explosion of sparks. Twisted by the sudden impact, the firework round hit the armor instead of the warlord’s head and detonated, throwing both Pridak and Waveahk sideways. The warlord fell, the upper right of his armor nothing more than smoldering scrap metal clinging to the Takean’s frame that it was supposed to protect. ----- When I caught my bearing again, my vision was fuzzy with broken input from my armor’s ocular feed. Flashes of white status readouts interrupted by flashes of red warnings. I was on the floor, sideways, staring up at the edge of the rock barrier. There was a high pitched beeping in my right audio receptor that wouldn’t go away and my left was assaulted by alarms. I blinked, tried to shake off the disorientation and climb back up to my feet - but I couldn’t. The servos wouldn’t budge. I tried to look down and noticed my line of sight obstructed by the remains of the collar that had saved my life a moment earlier. I paid attention to the flashing readouts - but the display was too busted to make out more than a lot of red. Suffice it to say the suit was fried. “Gaaarrrhhhyou spirit-forsaken no-good traitor brakas!” I didn’t even notice the words I yelled, struggling until I’d maneuvered my body against the inert armor enough so that I could hit the eject switch. ----- The next instant, Pridak’s assailants heard another bang as parts of the armor went flying, purposefully jettisoned by the warlord, who was now rising from the scrapped suit, grunting in anger and frustration with the effort. “You no-good Karzhani-loving wannabe usurpers - you come into my domain, break my stuff - you think you can do this to me!?” None of them had ever seen the warlord out of his suit. Pridak was still tall, but also...thin. Nothing like the imposing figure that had strode across battlefields in his suit of powered armor. No, the warlord appeared almost frail and looked like he struggled to stand. He chuckled. It sounded pained. “Heh. You can shoot me, but you can’t kill me. And you know why? Cause I own this - “ he gestured with one free hand, before clenching it into a first - “I conquered it. It’s mine! Mine! And I’m not losing it. No way I’m losing.” ----- I had it with these people. I was so furious, I'd actually started laughing. Reaching down, I grabbed the handle of my sword, still clutched in my suit’s hand. With another growl, I wrenched it free. Not gonna lie, I’d forgotten how heavy it was. Just lifting the cursed thing made my muscles burn. That’s why I'd had that armor in the first place! But fine...they wanted to play it this way, we’d play it this way. “Oh you’ve got no idea who you’re messing with! I’m gonna take this sword, I’m gonna go right back to where we left off and I’m gonna slice you into so many little pieces, the undead in the silver lake will think it’s naming day!” ----- If a machine like the summoned ACR could feel surprise at all, it probably would at the fact it found no further opposition in its path. Despite registering several indicators that security measures were in place, none of them were active. Otis didn’t know it, but the damage the fall had caused was extensive and the blast doors and other obstacles that would normally hinder an assailant or fire from reaching adjacent parts of the building had been disabled by the crash and there simply hadn’t been the time or resources to fix them. The path was clear. OOC: @Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Toru Nui@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Eyru@Tarn
  12. IC [Coliseum]: The elevator rumbled and Otis began to ascend. Metal ached and the cables hoisting the cabin were singing their displeasure at the weight they were now asked to move. Despite those league engineers that had survived putting in the work to repair as much of the city as they could, the impact had taken its toll on the infrastructure. And the lift was no longer perfectly straight and some of its features were no longer working. Luckily for Otis, the voice key access was one of them. It was a long way up still before the ACR emerged in the storage room on 50th level. It was still full of sealed bags of coffee beans, but now in addition, there was cocoa powder. Lord Pridak’s personal supply, going by the labeling, and, as they noted, not to be tempered with under penalty of death. Behind him, the lift doors closed as the cabin was called down again. The homing signal Otis was following showed he was still a ways away from the source: this supply depot was located at the top of one of the large sub-structures that made up the coliseum and was connected via circular walkway to the others. The office turned throne room was located the next section over. ----- As Aurax retreated, Pridak followed. He had the Toa on his backfoot, he wasn’t going to stop pressing his attack now. His betrayal would not go unpunished. OOC: @~Xemnas~
  13. OOC: Thanks for being patient with the slow replies these past few days. Remember to get your licks in on the shark king so we can finally put a lid on this IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]: Zataka still didn’t touch the cake. She was hungry, but she couldn’t rule out that it had been spiked with something these Skakdi had built up an immunity against. She’d heard of such instances before and was watching her ‘hosts’ carefully while taking her time answering Yumiwak’s question. “Who am I? Well that’s a bit complicated. You know my name, that’ll have to suffice for now. What I am is easier: I am a warrior and leader. Not unlike yourself. Though with my being here, currently separated from my people and lands - which leads to the ‘what’ part of your question: I was on my way back.” None of what she said was a lie, though she did omit the circumstances and means by which she arrived. She wasn’t going to just give away her actual ticket back home. Then, she decided to redirect the conversation to more important matters: “So...are we going to pretend we didn’t just hear some mythical beast roar out there?” OOC: @EmperorWhenua
  14. IC [Pridak - Coliseum Throne Room]: I watched the Toa’s body disappear from view with a momentary feeling of relief. My mistake. The scythe blade sliced through the air. The only warning I had was a brief flash from the proximity warning, then it struck true - and sparks erupted as it embedded itself in the high collar of my armor - designed specifically with this eventuality in mind. You didn’t think it was going to be this easy, did you? My ocular uplink glitched, the image went fuzzy and then went out. The accursed Toa must have severed the cable. I spun around instantly, using the scythe still stuck in the armor to hopefully get this opportunistic traitor off-balance, so I could return the favor with a strike from my own blade. ----- The way to the freight elevator was clearly labeled, as was needed for an installation of this size. Also needed were the surveillance systems, which had been triggered the instant the ACR had destroyed the two Vahki outside. The squad of four Zadahk guarding the elevator itself was on alert already as the mech suit approached and opened fire with their disk launchers. OOC: @~Xemnas~ IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]: The warlord scoffed and shook her head, looking down at the table, still incredulous at how badly Tuyet’s plan had gone awry. Then, finally, she met Yumiwak’s eyes again with a look that said you’re not gonna believe this. “Time. Everything.” OOC: @EmperorWhenua
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