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  1. So, seeing as BZPRPG is getting to the point of stagnancy which sees mosquitos start to look to it as a breeding ground, and it doesn't seem like that's gonna change for a while, I'd like to open a discussion (miiiight not be the right choice of words, considering I'll probably be the only one reading and discussing hahaha). -What NEW things would you like to see implemented in the new BZPRPG arc? -What OLD things would you like to see brought back? -For those of you with experience TBRPing on other forums: what are some things that worked in other TBRPGs that could work in BZPRPG? I had more questions, but now I'm distracted, so that's all ya get. Let me know what you all think! ALSO DON'T READ MY OLD BLOG POSTS OH BOY ARE THEY CRINGE-WORTHY.
  2. Recommended Listening. I I cannot tell you now; When the wind's drive and whirl Blow me along no longer, And the wind's a whisper at last-- Maybe I'll tell you then-- some other time. When the rose's flash to the sunset Reels to the rack and the twist, And the rose is a red bygone, When the face I love is going And the gate to the end shall clang, And it's no use to beckon or say, "So long"-- Maybe I'll tell you then-- some other time. I never knew any more beautiful than you: I have hunted you under my thoughts, I have broken down under the wind And into the roses looking for you. I shall never find any greater than you. -Carl Sandburg, The Great Hunt The darkness heaved with every breath, fury and terror hidden only by gritted teeth grinding harsher with each jolt of pain. Hakann spat out the dirt and phlegm, braced his numb legs and tried to pull himself up, but before any hold could be made on the dirt walls, his hands turned to stone, a grip to crack case-hardened steel. Another wave of agony swarmed through bone and nerve, sending his lungs into wracking spasms. His ribcage strained with the ferocity of his breathing, muscles quaking and bones threatening to fracture under the duress. Two thin streams of tears cut into the grime on the Skakdi's contorted face, seeping into the tortured half-smile that stretched his mouth. A silent blow deep in the red beneath his heart, and the sanguine warmth fled from him, leaving only a husk cold and shivering. Blood dripped from ashen lips as crimson fingers gripped the earth, knuckles whitening to strangle darkness. * * * He gestured to the six hunters, hand moving with an unconcerned grace. The Rahkshi seemed to melt into the shadows of the tunnels behind, silent in their assuming of the role of sentries, confident of their ability to protect him from would-be ambushers. After a few moments, the last reverberations of their movements ceased, leaving him alone in the dark and cold. Silence crept in from the shadows and dark-choked corners, strangling the rhythms of distant life. His breath crept through throat and lung, testing the air of his environment as he observed the texture of the dirt and stone that surrounded him. All details were supercharged in the neon haze of thermographic vision, like some great fiery abyss, distinct only in shades of flame. The darkness of his gaze drifted, stare burning with a vivid and lucid mania. The thirsting and hungering and craving for broken forms twisted in veneration of blade-pierced flesh lied behind the corpse-still aponia of Hakann's gaze, well veiled by shadow. A hint of a smile played on the Skakdi's lips, mirroring the empty hunger of his eyes. * * * Skin split, bones creaked as the pain swarmed and shrieked before diving into his mouth, eyes, veins to consume from within. Blood surged and thundered to the resounding drumbeat of fire and iron. Hakann's mind began the long, slow cutting of reformation, newly liquid within the crucible of an agony beyond flesh. Fear and rage swelled and roared in his skull, each heartbeat the crucifier's nail. * * * His gaze swivelled with deliberate lethargy, turning from the wall to observe the result of his efforts. It was a sizeable item to be certain, larger than an Antidermis vial and more sturdily constructed. An item hidden in the bottom of the tech pile, hidden within a collection of less useful items, could give him the advantage he hungered for. He had taken it and another promising piece of tech while the others bickered, hiding them in one of Mangaia's less commonly travelled tunnels while Rahkshi-recruiting. Now that he finally had the chance to analyse it with the attention it deserved, he felt oddly disappointed at the dust and dirt-covered metal. He tested its weight, lifting it in one hand to further appreciate its heft. It felt less than solid, and the weight distribution wasn't perfect. Perhaps some sort of Kanohi, or a specialised variety of Antidermis? Echelon and all of the Ko-Koro aristocracy would like that, to be certain. Hakann, his face showing no excitement and his movements hard and unconcerned, gripped the object's opposite end, and twisted with a strength to warp iron. The hiss of escaping air, and then an utter silence. * * * His crawling was interrupted by another seizure. Limbs flailed, teeth gnashed in the fury of randomly firing synapses and disrupted chemical messages. The foreign influence was weakly resisted, but it would not be stopped. Muscles and nerves soon conformed to its wishes. Rasping breath tore at Hakann's throat. Blood dripped from the insides of his palms, coated the undersides of his claws. A smile adorned his lips. Pain was beneath his concern of Hakann. To be frightened by discomfort, to be weakened by agony: the signs of inferiority. Does one dislike breathing, moving? Stimuli and responses. How quaint. The presence reached Hakann's mind, roaring with the voice of a reverse demiurge. The molten intricacies of its hatred now delving into all recesses, it rose in black majesty to peel ashen skin and give face to a bliss far surpassing his own. Hakann's smile vanished. * * * It remained still at first, limp in his hand. He held it away from his grin-stretched visage, cautious, cowardly. It awoke to the beat of his heart, rumbling sawtooth rhythm of his blood. Surging over his arm, his shoulder, as he struggled to remove it in a mindless, hollow silence. Flitting over scapula, driving into flesh. Spreading. Infecting. A crude-wrought mask of agony, chipped and cracked plaster stretched too tight, coloured too obvious a crimson. A silent gasp, an encroaching dark- The world decayed into vermiculate patterns. * * * The agony grew steadily, a gradual and unstoppable ascent. His seizures grew in ratio to the deathly stillness, common movements repeated mindlessly. His Zamour Launcher was drawn from its position on his bandoleer and then crushed within his death-throe grip. The tool cracked and warped, shape lost in the torsion. Fragments of metal fell to the floor and sent reverberations shivering through Hakann's spine, setting his nerves ablaze. His other hand placed two gentle fingertips on his terror-widened eyes. The lenses began to heat and shiver, each vibration a new and unprecedented pain as all sank into a void beyond darkness. His gaze transformed into an excruciation of soul alone, presenting him with new varieties of evisceration as heat signatures and formless entropies coalesced in his consciousness. A pained sound rose from the back of a throat choked with the ambrosia of phlegm. Between a moan and a rumbling growl, it rose and then fell again in a tormented and enraged lament of lost rage. A dark flame blossomed from his labouring and quivering heart, turning his veins and arteries into twisted caricatures of Phlegethon and Cocytus. The noise was quiet, unbearably so; in its muted, near-silent intricacies the whole world lay vivisected for the shadows to peruse. Blood and vomit ran down his chin and dripped onto the stone and dirt of the tunnel floor. His heart slammed with staccato rhythm, helpless and twitching with the ecstasy of death. * * * The first pain was the kindest. It had only made his hands spasm, opening and closing tortured digits into shaking fists. It was pleasing, aesthetically respectable to a man of his past. No more than a blissful, tranquil state even for a man fully expecting to die in seconds. For him, no greater pleasure could be conceived of. He had shocked himself with his Lava Launcher on more than one occasion, inserted needles and nails through his hand just to test if he could still feel, tortured himself in whatever manner would not inflict permanently hampering damage. He possessed a great love of agony, a passion that had never met equal. This was beneath him, pitiful in its crudity. Smile as stretched and inflexible as a corpse transfixed by Death's rigour, Hakann stared straight and unflinching, eyes held with a horrible stillness, their madness perfected within the silence of blood-soaked ataraxia. He did not fear. * * * The darkness gathered itself for a final offensive. Hakann's body shivered from its position on the floor, his face frozen into the hollow grin of death. The invading shadow tore into Hakann's consciousness, consuming neurons with eager teeth. Skin peeling, bones breaking, eyes exploding, screamed the receptors of the mind. In reality, Hakann's spine arched, his limbs flailed. Sanguine and fear-born streams dripped from his chin, shivered down the skin of his chest. Chaos disrupted only by the action of his left arm, no longer under his own control, now moving with an unnatural calm towards the Skakdi's mouth, its fingers flexing slightly in anticipation. Hakann's mouth, open as he half-moaned, was filled with his own fist. A gagged sound, jaws tightening. The fingers felt gently, probed for its target. With a dull, wet grate, the fingers moved, the motion quick and hard in its violence. The grip tightened to the sound of flesh torn by fingers alone, and the hand retracted as quickly as it had entered. Held gently in the centre of his grip, stained a vivid crimson, lied the discarded petal of some grisly, eldritch blossom. The Skakdi's throat trembled with something between whisper and whimper as his hand returned to his control. Dead fingers closed tight on the the subtly rough surface, sickeningly tepid and nauseatingly wet. He could feel every detail, sense with perfect clarity every minute feature. Its scent pounded into his skull and sending nerves into squealing joy. Shivers of fear ran down his spine, jolting his lungs back into strained breath. A mindless, pained rumble of abyssal pitch and haunting quiet rose from Hakann's bloodied throat, reverberating with mournful and hollow timbre for the slightest moment until it was swallowed by the catacomb's grasping dark. Clenched in the bloodstained, red-hungering palm, torn neatly with the precision of a warrior collecting trophies of flesh and bone, lied the remains of Hakann's tongue. I I am the undertow Washing tides of power Battering the pillars Under your things of high law. -Carl Sandburg, Under ____________________________________________________________________ I I Red drips from my chin where I have been eating. Not all the blood, nowhere near all, is wiped off my mouth. Clots of red mess my hair And the tiger, the buffalo, know how. I was a killer. Yes, I am a killer. I come from killing. I go to more. I drive red joy ahead of me from killing. Red gluts and red hungers run in the smears and juices of my inside bones: The child cries for a suck mother and I cry for war. -Carl Sandburg, Fight The silent conversation was pure and stark, dialogue of vivid realism where romanticism and posturing had previously reigned. Wordless the Skakdi had wept, each and every breath a Sisyphean struggle. In response, only another thundering onrush of agony, a phantom pain in the left arm. The bones and fragments of soul that still resisted fell into a terrible silence. Her eager teeth tore into their marrow, hunting through the remains of her violence for any last vestige of hope. Where he had knelt, she now stood, movements carefully designed. The left hand, still gripping Hakann's bloodstained tongue, brought the now cold muscle up to his open mouth. * * * The circumvoluted remains of the Zamor Launcher possessed a certain sculptural beauty, hidden deep within the ruins: each twist and deformation was a testament to the extents of rage, a collection of crushed steel now intimate with hatred. The warped metal was a reminder, of his moment of weakness, of the beauty of the destruction that had consumed him in a sudden onslaught of forcefully induced suicidal rage. Slight quivers of fear ran down his spine, broken remnants of his vanished will. Raging nihil to replace his faux brilliance, tainting the perfection of his control. The equivocal half-smile had vanished, its previous dwelling now occupied by a horrible straightness of crimson-stained lips; neither pout nor grimace, the opposite of manic grin. The hollowness was a testament to the gnawing that filled his stomach and dominated his thoughts. The parasite filled his mind, leeching his purity with symbiotic glee. He could feel it absorbing his lifeforce, consuming the energy of his soul and body, tearing away potential lives where he was untainted by subjugation, perfect until the moment of death. The parasite stormed into his consciousness, sending Hakann's thoughts slithering away and replacing them with a wordless message that ignored the Skakdi's will, breaking through his wall of deadening pain. Images flooded into his mind's eye, forcing out any distraction he attempted to focus on, slowly becoming the entirety of his awareness. Flashes of skinned and eyeless half-corpses, field-dressed in distant and desolate plains, pounded through his skull. The fear began again, sending shivers rocking through his back and turning his heart into a pulsating furnace. His heartbeat seemed to increase to an incredibly heightened rate, counting down the vanishing moments until another cataclysmic outburst. The invading presence did not speak or deign to explain itself. It announced its presence with a shriek, exceeding the boundaries of frequency or volume with its alien display of wrath. Hakann was afraid to close his eyes and attempt to focus on gaining control, lest more of the images come. For the first time he could ever remember, he suspected he was feeling what the doctors and morticians must experience when they autopsied his victims. A dull nausea that consumed compassion and care with its heart-eating repulsion, for the images and emotions the parasite forced into his mind were not recognisable enough for empathy. He had flayed and dismembered and eviscerated possibly hundreds of times. He had plucked out teeth and fingernails like rose petals, cut into eye-sockets and tongues, still quivering with life, as if they were the finest delicacies. Never once, to his great pride, had he felt nauseous. Not even in the earliest period of his life, skinning unfortunate Rahi and leaving them to die from the subsequent circulatory shock, had he felt disgust. It seemed beyond him, in every sense of the word. The next series of images came, beating into his consciousness with the ferocity of a warhammer meeting sternum. Their edges and boundaries were vague, a Rorschach amorphousness of exposed bone and tendon, some terrible hint of movement in their frames. Hakann's otherwise expressionless face twitched in synchronisation with the tightening of his blood-encrusted left fist. The bittersweet bile of emesis rolled through his stomach and threatened to surge through his throat. * * * The Rahkshi had waited with their usual silence, uncaring and unconcerned. Hakann had instructed them to keep him alive at all costs, and they knew the creature that latched into his mind and soul. Removing it would the equivalent of having the Panrahk plunge its staff into his skull, so they had obeyed his commands, abandoning him and remaining in their distant positions as he experienced agony that transcended the physiological. There had been a great silence after that, long and uneventful. Ice Resistance had skewered a Rahi that had come too close to its position, but other than that there was no noise. Mind Reading tensed subtly, revealing the return of Hakann. Before the others even heard his footsteps, the mentally active Rahkshi had been prepared for whatever task the sadistic Skakdi requested. The others gripped their staves and stared listlessly into the dark where their master had previously disappeared. Hakann appeared without his usual theatrics. Instead of nearly strutting with pride, he strode, movements brusque, locomotion identical to the style he adopted in battle. Each step was the inception of an offensive, every movement designed to transfer momentum in the most damaging way possible. The Rahkshi screeched softly, surprised at the manner in which the Skakdi approached. Staves were gripped tighter, stances subtly changed. Hakann paused, what might be mistaken for a gaze settling on Mind Reading. The Skakdi's gaze was consumed by shadow, empty in a cruel mimicry of gouged void. Mind Reading was not fooled: he had been able to navigate the darkness, moving well enough to not give away his position to the other Rahkshi. There was nothing to be found in his expression, only a corpse's hollow imitation of life. Hakann opened his mouth to speak, but nothing but an gravel-choked rasp appeared, continuing in twisted roar until he realised his situation and snapped his mouth shut in frustration. Mind Reading followed the handsignal that came after Hakann had calmed, and delved into the Skakdi's consciousness to find his order. Tell me how to kill this parasite Mind Reading, for the smallest of moments, was utterly still. It gazed into Hakann's face again, searching carefully and picking apart the individual components, but found no hint of humour. With a subtle relaxation, it surged into the strange pseudo-Parakuka's mind and attempted to discover its thoughts. Hakann's lips tightened in perfect synchronisation with his fist. The parasite's aura of mocking disappointment at Hakann's decision was unmistakable. At first, it feigned a state of tabula rasa. Then, with horrible certainty, a revealing of self, projection of a vivid collection of thoughts and emotions. The Rahkshi emitted something vaguely similar to a strangled whisper of a shriek, disconnecting immediately. Hakann exhaled suddenly, a hint of pain seeping into his stolid visage. The Rahkshi stared at Hakann in horror, waiting for punishment. The Skakdi merely calmed his breathing, and then began to walk, striding past the Rahkshi, who quickly resumed their previously commanded positions around him. As Hakann strode, each movement twisted and reborn in the crucible of fear, the parasite repeated a single scene, disjointed and staccato in pace. Mutilated beings, unrecognisable as sapient or Rahi, being driven through a desolate forest, trees killed and greyed by winter. Other, similarly unidentifiable, things were hung or impaled via gnarled and ashen branches, or shoved half-broken into the fork of the trees, some still screaming and moving, most twisted and contorted by varying stages of rigor mortis. An unseen shadow pressed from behind, tearing at the shrieking cripples that lagged and driving forward those able to run, weeping, screaming. Beyond the treeline, distant and formless, something waited, more omen than tangible, a mountain that walked in silence. Shadows loomed off of it, writhing in the tortured dusk. One final shriek and then a horrible stillness. The series of rapid images was lucid, incredibly detailed. Hakann could feel his stomach tightening at the thought of it having any basis in reality. The stares of the grotesque monstrosities, the true and unfiltered terror of one watching everything they have ever known skinned and burning, remained in Hakann's mind, an impression tinted ash-grey. Each step through the tunnels was forceful, powered by wrath-fed nerve and screaming heart, the run of a predator, or the fleeing of prey. * * * Hand gentle and assured in its motion, Hakann fed his tongue through the gnashing of crimson-delineated teeth, every bite accompanied by the sound of flesh torn with anterior force. He worked through the tastes, grisaille face newly motionless. Blood ran slowly, creeping down tooth and gum. II I am a sleepless Slowfaring eater, Maker of rust and rot In your bastioned fastenings, Caissons deep. -Carl Sandburg, Under Parts III and IV will be added soon! Discussion topic here.
  3. A birthday gift to a friend... you all know him probably. His BZPRPG OC, Commodore Ayiwah.
  4. BZPRPG PODCAST Welcome to the Official Topic for the BZPRPG Podcast! Here you can watch, discuss and ask questions about the Podcast. About Us The BZPRPG Podcast was founded in 2012 by Biobeast, Hubert, and Onarax. With Hubert and Onarax as the main hosts while Biobeast gathered news. Over time the group as evolved into its current form with Krayzikk and Tyler as the main hosts while Hubert and Onarax stepped to still host occasionally. We provide insight into the current state of affairs of the BZPRPG, interview players, discuss pressing issues, and offer up advice for new players. Episode List There are three primary places episodes can be found. Most of the old series can be found on the old BZPRPG Podcast website. Other, various episodes, can be found on Hubert's blog. Season 2 of the podcast can be found on the Youtube Channel. Current Episode
  5. So, a problem has come to plague me yet again. My profiles in the BZPRPG are getting way too long, so instead, I'll use this place to store the meat of them, in the main post and the comments. Yay! --- Name: Hasil Species: Toa Gender: Male Appearance: Hasil is a tall Toa, nearly a head taller than most, with bronzen skin rather unlike those of most Toa of Air. However, he keeps himself covered in black robes most of the time, with headcloth and veil, such that his face cannot normally be seen. On the underside of those robes are sown lamellar scales, as protective armour. As well, while he rarely shows his face, Hasil is a rather attractive Toa. Kanohi: Hau Powers: Hasil is a Toa of Air, so he has the usual range of powers, though he does not often practice them. Abilities: Hasil is, first and foremost, a swordsman; with his long O-katana, his O-wakizashi, or his two kunai-like throwing knives, or even the weighted chords he keeps more as a distraction, he is a master, able to use them with the same speed and dexterity with which a Nui-Rama uses its wings. As well, he's a good shot with a disk launcher. However, he cannot read or write. Personality: Hasil has a deeply abiding sense of right and wrong, and will never allow the wrong thing to be done; other than that, though, he is rather ambivalent towards others. He can be friendly with those he knows, if he trusts them, though he's often rather quiet and reserved. Weapons: An O-katana, an O-wakizashi (both constructed rather strongly, and able to be used as other than just weapons); two protosteel kunai (also used for eating, or tying to the weighted chords to use them as bladed whips); a set of weighted chords; and a disk launcher. Weakness: Hasil is not one for mass, group-fighting, preferring instead one-on-one duels; as well, he hasn't much practice with his element. Biography: -to be added- Name: Dendron Species and Gender: Male Toa of Plantlife Powers: As a Toa of Plantlife, Dendron has the obvious ability to do almost anything he wants with the plantlife around him, while his bronze Kanohi Kakama allows him to move really quickly doing it too. Fun! Although, he primarily uses his element for making medicines and such, not fighting. Appearance: Dendron is tall, Dendron is lean, Dendron has bronze armour on a green body, Dendron is almost always smiling, and Dendron probably has a bunch of scars from when he was being dumb, got in trouble, and got hurt. Like that one time he got captured. Abilities and Skills: Dendron is relatively skilled with controlling his element, and generally uses it to make very specific plants, generally for medical usage as part of the Onu-Koro Ussalry. He also is a well-trained fighter, which he demonstrated well at the Nui-Rama hive battle, and can use his element for more than just making medicines - and he can use his Kakama rather well when fighting, too. Weapons and Kanohi: Dendron has a bronze Kanohi Kakama, a small ironwood baton (that can be made into a staff, a spear, or what have you), and a Teleportation Rahkshi staff that he got after the Nui-Rama hive battle. Weaknesses: Dendron relies on speed, not strength, in a battle, so if you're able to stop him from running circles around you, he's in trouble. Also, he's relatively out of practice when it comes to using his element alongside any physical attacks while battling, as he normally uses his element for far different usages - anybody who is able to fight with their fists and their element at the same time would have an advantage against him. Personality: Dendron is happy, Dendron is generally energetic, Dendron somehow still manages to remain quiet most of the time, Dendron is caring and concerned and yet, when he's not trying hard, he's easily distracted. Dendron also likes to fight, although only recreationally (Dendron can also be kinda annoying, but don't tell anyone I said that, he's really a mature fellow). Bio: -To Be Written- Name: Tur Auras Species and Gender: Male Toa of Stone Powers: As a Toa of Stone, Tur has the ability to create, absorb, control, or manipulate any stone around him - be it part of a structure or something sticking up out of the ground - as well, he has far greater natural strength than any other type of Toa. As well, his Kanohi Kakama allows him to move far faster than is normal, his movements barely distinguishable as more than a blur when he uses it. Appearance: Tur is a relatively average appearing Toa - he's not particularly attractive, and he's average in height as well...maybe just a little shorter than average. His Kakama is shaped the same as any other Kakama around, and his rather light armour and mask are the colour of rust. However, despite his rather unassuming appearance, his eyes are striking - burning with an inner fire that is very rarely allowed to burn uncontrolled. Abilities and Skills: As previously mentoned, Tur has much greater natural strength than any other type of Toa, being a Toa of Stone; as well, he's rather well practiced with his mask and his weapons, and can ride a Kane-Ra or other suitably large animal rather well. Weapons and Kanohi: Tur's Kanohi is a Kakama, shaped like every other Kakama and coloured like rust, as is his light armour - primarily chainmail, though with more solid armour plates in a few weak areas and with a very solid helmet. He also carries a large, metallic heater shield, and a bearded axe, able to be used either on the ground or from the back of a Kane-Ra (or other suitably large animal), with a leather thong to prevent him from losing it and with the haft made of wood, with langets running the length of the haft to protect it - and a nice long spike on the end of it and a shorter, curved one on the back. Tur likes having multiple-use weaponry. Weaknesses: Tur isn't very proficient with his element, nor is he proficient in fighting against anybody else's element - he's a physical fighter through and through. As well, when he does relinquish his iron grip on himself, he loses almost all personal control and inhibitions - and while that normally means that he becomes little more than a force of nature on the battlefield, that also means that he becomes a force of nature that doesn't defend itself from counterattack. Personality: Most of the time, Tur's personality is nonexistent. His responses are almost all formulaic, his face is a cold, expressionless mask, and he's rather quiet unless he is specifically spoken to - or he feels an overwhelming need to respond. At least, that's what he appears like on the surface. Beneath the surface, he's still just as cold as he seems on the surface, but it's a calculating intelligence and a cold anger - seasoned with good amounts of sarcasm, snark, pride, and contempt - that define him...and deeper than that, a burning, seething, boiling rage that drives him to keep living, regardless of how dead even he thinks he is. Bio: Tur Auras never tells anybody about his life. What does his life story matter when he's only acting in what he considers to be his death? Name: Edubard a Briuis Species and Gender: Male Toa of Air Power(s): Edubard has the basic powers any Toa of Air has. Small cyclones, using the wind to blow things around, vacuum sealing small packages, the works. However, he puts less focus on his powers than others; as such, he has little skill with using them. Having an Arthron, he also has the ability to utilize sonar at all times. Appearance: Edubard is a tall Toa, with an almost regal appearance. His armour, silver in hue, was expertly crafted to both accentuate his appearance and protect it, though it lacks the flashy appearance that some might expect from such things. However, he has allowed one small amount of vanity to creep in, decorating his armour with various etchings. Aside from his armour, Edubard is, while possessed of a rather muscular disposition, rather average in his looks; he’s no show-stopping prettyboy, nor does he want to be one. Rather, he wears every scar he’s gained both as a matter of pride and a remembrance of mistakes he’s made before. His mask, while in power an Arthron, is in appearance a Hau, dark green with silvery accents. His eyes are light blue. Abilities and Skill: Edubard’s first focus is on his swordsmanship - after an accident that resulted in the unnecessary death of a sparring partner, he had, for a time, sworn never to draw his sword unless his life absolutely depended on it. Through a loophole, he decided that his life depended upon his drawing, practicing with, and using his sword so that he would never accidentally kill somebody again. After that, he picked up some skills in carpentry and woodwork while he was running swordless, so that he would have a way to support himself. Weapons and Kanohi: Edubard’s preferred weapon is a basket-hilted claymore, or claybeg, that being his preferred simply because it is what he first learned to use. However, he is fully capable of using any broadsword, longsword, or greatsword - he just prefers to stick to his claymore. For a Kanohi, Edubard wears a Hau-shaped Arthron. Weaknesses: Edubard’s focus on honourable, and non-lethal (if ever it is possible) fighting leaves him open to enemies who both fight dirty and are willing to kill to win; as well, anybody who knows of his past failures in duelling can easily drive him into a rage if they taunt him with them. Personality: A former slave, Edubard has both a compassionate outlook towards other beings and a humorous outlook on life - he refuses to ignore anybody’s plight, no matter how much trouble this might cause him, but he also relied on humour as a way to retain his sanity, though he has calmed somewhat from how he used to be.However, despite his humour, Edubard is a perfectionist; he will not tolerate failure, especially not in himself, practicing for hours a day on his swordsmanship simply so that he may perfect every last faint, lunge, slash, parry, or riposte that he can, to make sure his technique leaves absolutely no room for lethal error. Although, one thing Edubard has learned: simulating the appearance of insanity is a great method for duplicity, and it is one he will use whenever it behooves him to do so - the most prominent example being the time he spent as a slave. Biography: With his first memories ones of slavery, Edubard’s young life was both a hard life and one he doesn’t prefer to remember, less still to talk about; the most that he lets anybody know is that, a year before his freedom, he came under the charge of a man named Bhuta, a slaver. By that time he had perfected the appearance of insanity, using it to keep those in charge of him from harming him, forcing him to do work - indeed, he even used it as a distraction, to aide the other slaves when he could, though few, if any, knew of his tactics - he made sure to cultivate the appearance of insanity with everybody, not just with his captors. After breaking away in the midst of a battle - his duplicity just then revealed - Edubard spent an amount of time on board the ship known as the Infernavika, a pirate vessel. He had no jobs on the ship other than staying out of everybody’s way and entertaining them with his swordsmanship - however, this soon worked against him, when he and a former crewmember of the ship engaged in a friendly duel. In a freak accident, Edubard cleaved through his sparring partner, from shoulder to navel, killing him. The Toa, horrified, instantly blamed himself for the accident, though nobody can truly tell who is actually to blame for the incident, due to there having been no witnesses to the duel. And so, taking to wondering, Edubard vowed he would never use his sword again, unless refusing to use it would mean the death of himself or others. He went to Ga-Koro, learning the trade of carpentry, and starting along on shipwork; however, the Daedra’s taking over, and the subsequent destruction they caused as their alliance fell apart, influenced Edubard to draw his weapon again - though now he made sure that he wouldn’t grow complacent with his training, as he never wished to repeat the earlier accident. Since that time he has regained some amount of his good humour, his old self beginning to resurface, though he is still somewhat subdued, both in personality and in action, voice, and thought. Name: Grochi Species and Gender: Male Toa of Plasma Powers: Grochi has the usual powers for a Toa of Plasma - essentially, the ability to control that superheated ionized gas that generally does rather well to cause damage to physical objects...or can leave organic beings suffering from radiation poisoning, if you know what you're doing. Appearance: Though he still manages to stand tall these days, Grochi is getting old - he has been, for a while - and it shows in the way he carries himself, as though he's simply getting weary of all that life continues to present to him. Still, he holds himself as a proud man, and when he sees fit to do so, he can present a presence that is hard to ignore, visually. Though in the realm of the purely cosmetic, Grochi has a rather simple set of armour, coloured in forest green with white accents, pitted and scarred through the years of action he's seen. Abilities and Skills: Grochi is rather well practiced with his rapier, and a few other weapons, though he doesn't often need to use them. As well, when he finds it needed, he can show himselt to have a rather commanding presence - though he much prefers simple angry complaining to get his thoughts across and get others to do what he wants. It's less work. Weapons, Equipment, and Kanohi: Grochi's main weapon is a simple rapier, though anymore he's been using a rather tall cane - purely a fashion accessory, don't let anybody tell you different (it certainly isn't there because he needs it) - as both self defense tool and general tool. To go with the rapier, he also has both a buckler and a main gauche dagger (neither of which he carries often, leaving them at his home), and a cloak that he also wears when he's cold. As well, at his home, he has a larger, heavier sword similar to the (real-world) British Officer's Pattern 1796 Heavy Cavalry Undress Sword, with a stiff, heavy, straight, single-edged blade (with hatchet point), and a rather heavy bowl guard. Rather unsuitable for delicate swordsmanship, very suitable for bashing through an enemy. And their defences. Other than that, he has his home in Ta-Wahi, near Ta-Koro, his widgets, a large Ussal (to ride on/help carry his things), and his Kanohi Kualsi. Weaknesses: Grochi certainly isn't as fast, strong, or flexible as he used to be - while it doesn't particularly get in the way of him performing his duty as a protector of Ta-Koro at the moment, it can prove a possible liability, at times. As well, he isn't known to get on well with all of Ta-Koro's guards...and aggravating them might not always be the best idea. Personality: Grochi is eccentric, he is easily annoyed, he is loud and cantankerous and cranky and...yeah. Those are all rather accurate descriptors for him. Though he's also generally a good man, trying to do well and trying to be kind to most others, and generally succeeding. Generally. Bio: Name: Unari Species and Gender: Male Toa of Air. Power(s): The usual powers for a Toa of Air, though he doesn't use them - except, possibly, to blow smoke out of his bar. Appearance: Unari is a rather average-sized Toa of Air, at least in height - the rest of his body is considerably thicker, though whether that's fat or muscle, nobody can tell you - except, perhaps, those he has thrown out of his bar. His armour is rather average, and he's more likely to wear loose fitting clothing than anything else. He's black and green in colouration. Abilities and Skills: Unari is an excellent bartender, a wonderful cook, a shrewd business man, a great brewer, and he's more than able to toss any rowdy fools out of his bar without a second thought - or use his staff on them. Weapons, Equipment, and Kanohi: Discounting his home, bar, and Inn, the Bright-Star Inn, and everything in it, Unari doesn't keep particularly many possessions on his person. Most everything he needs for brewing he keeps in the Bright-Star, as well as most of his money, kept in a special safe - though he always keeps some of it on his person. His Kanohi is a black Kanohi Pakari, shaped like a Hau - not that he particularly needs to use it - and his weapon is an ironwood staff, with a straight bladed backsword inside. Weaknesses: Unari isn't, at heart, a violent person - and while he's more than able to be a bouncer for his bar, he isn't particularly fond of the job, and unless things are degenerating quickly, he won't try particularly hard to hurt somebody, only to scare them. As well, don't. Ever. Harm. His. Inn. Or break into it, for that matter. Call it a berserk button if you will, but just remember not to push it or you'll find that he missed his target completely and actually threw you off the platform. Personality: Unari is the very epitome of the jocular innkeeper - he's got a big body and a big personality, and while he's just as capable as being quiet and reserved as he is loud, joking, and, if need be, angry, you're more likely to see the loud part than the quiet part. However, don't ever harm his inn, or anybody inside it, or you will find that he will get very quiet, very angry, and you will be very airborne. Biography: Born and raised in Le-Koro, Unari always loved the party scene that was part of what made Le-Koro famous. However, there was one thing that was wrong - there was never a bar and inn that lasted particularly long in the Koro. Once he became a Toa - and got the necessary loans - Unari decided to fix all that, opening the Bright-Star Inn. While some might have expected it to fail like the others, they'd be wrong - as Unari's prosperity, and the Inn's recent four-year anniversary would attest. Name: Jaaku Species and Gender: Male Toa of Magnetism Power(s): All powers granted by being a Toa of Magnetism, X-Ray Vision. Appearance: Jaaku is a tall Toa, with prodigious strength and a commanding presence, though rather average in terms of general appearance; however, his armour, with parts a gleaming amber and parts a dark grey is a masterpiece of work, made of small, interlocking plates. After that, his Kanohi Akaku is in the shape of a Huna. Abilities and Skills: Jaaku is very proficient with his element, able to launch metallic objects down a board into a target, or use the magnetic field around to, say, aid him if he needs to make a high jump to something, or to modify electronics or mechanical equipment. After that, he is a great shot with his bow, even without elemental aid, and has some defensive skill in terms of close-combat. As well, given the time, he has a great deal of tinkering skill with technology.Weapons and Kanohi: Jaaku wields a Kanohi Akaku, shaped like a Huna; however, each eyehole has hidden lenses to aid in any visual modification; the right, magnification of objects near, the left, the magnification of objects far; i.e., it works like a telescope, and has a small cross-shaped reticle, made of thin thread, formed inside the glass. This hidden system is made possible by the use of sliding rails holding the lenses within the face-side portion of the mask, allowing Jaaku to manipulate them at will. However, due to modifications necessary to the mask itself, Jaaku’s mask is thinner, and therefore weaker, than others; a good hit right on the nose and it could crack, a couple more, and it could shatter.Jaaku’s main weapon is a longbow made of yew, with a quiver holding somewhere around fifty arrows to go with it; however, he has been testing a new weapon he built, basically a long board with a trough cut in it, a slingshot at one end, and a stock and grip at the other, made to fire any metallic projectile to be found, be it a crossbow bolt, a miniature cannonball, a knife, some unlucky Toa’s foot, you name it. As well, Jaaku owns an iStone, in order to help with his inventing. Weaknesses: Jaaku has only defensive skill in close combat, and his mask, being thinner than most, is easier than most to break. Personality: Jaaku is slightly eccentric, with an ease towards developing any manic obsession; other than that, he is a textbook sociopath. He only has a few long-standing, close relationships, all others he makes easily and quickly dropped in favour of something better, and he gives little thought towards others’ feelings if it doesn’t suit him. As well, his moods are very dynamic, changing as easily as the Le-Wahi wind. Biography: Jaaku’s history is currently unknown, even to him; he could be a newcomer to the island, he could be a native with no memory. All that is known is that, once he came, he used his talents towards tinkery to make a place for himself in Onu-Wahi, where he currently resides. Name: Svero Species and Gender: Male Toa of Plantlife Power(s): The usual. Create plants, increase their growh, sap energy out of them and kill them to help himself (something he isn't particularly fond of)...the usual. Appearance: Svero is of average height for most Toa, his armour of rather average style as well, a sort of laminar affair. He's got a forest green sort of colouration overall, though his mask and some parts of his armour are more of a burnished bronze. While he isn't overly bulky, he's muscular; and while he isn't the best looking Toa around, he is by no means ugly. He always keeps a baldric on him, with his spada da lato; as well, he always wears a satchel, with his canteen and various other items within. On the sheathe of his sword, the ricasso of his sword, and on his satchel is the Ta-Koro guard insignia. He can walk just fine, though normally he leans on his special staff. Abilities and Skills: Svero is a rather accomplished gardener, but more than that, an ecologist; he wishes to restore parts of Ta-Wahi to the live, thriving state they were in before. As well, he is an accomplished swordsman, and is just as proficient at defence with his walking staff. Weapons and Kanohi: Svero's main weapon, as he was told when he joined the Ta-Koro guard to learn, is the spada da lato; it is a different weapon than can be found among most of the island's warriors...but it is more than strong enough to fight with them. As well, he has an ironwood staff - both made of ironwood, and with a core of actual iron. He normally uses it to walk with, but he is adept at using it to fight with.His Kanohi is a Kualsi-shaped Calix, though he never much uses it. Weaknesses: Svero, being a Toa of Plantlife, rather requires water; and being in Ta-Wahi, he needs a lot of it, rather often, and can dehydrate easily. As well, very cold environments affect him pretty much the same as very hot ones. Personality: Svero is soft spoken, and serious; while he may throw jokes in with his words, he will never allow humour to distract him from the problem at hand. He prefers to let his actions speak, rather than his words. As well, he has a deep sense of right and wrong, and will not hesitate to make sure the right thing is done in every case. Biography: The Matoran who was Svero came with most of the Le-Matoran on Mata-Nui to the island, before quite a few Toa and others had arrived; and while at first he lived in Le-Wahi, he eventually grew rather annoyed with the frivolity of the Matoran there, so he relegated most of his time to his ecological studies; once finally a Toa, he left to Ta-Wahi, which he had been rather interested in ever since its major forest was burnt down, and joined the guard there, as he needed a way to support himself; and while he has never lost sight of his original plan, he finds that his work as a guard is both rather time-consuming and rather fulfilling, so work on fixing the forest has been slow. Name: Eutuchia Species and Gender: Male Matoran of Jungle Power(s): As a Matoran of Plantlife, Eutuchia has no actual powers; however, he does have latent effects, such as a penchant for gardening, or just an affinity towards helping all things living. Abilities and Skills: Eutuchia is, primarily, a musician, able to play many instruments with ease; however, due to his latent elemental abilities, he is an excellent gardener, able to make things grow when others have no success, and he also holds a great affinity towards all things living, such that he can pick up on their thoughts and emotions easier than others. As well, he is a great speaker, having trained his voice to the same standard as the greatest of orators. Appearance: Eutuchia is nothing short of handsome. With carefully shaped mask and armour to emphasis his carefully sculpted body, with leaf- and vine-shaped armour plates covering vital spots on his body, though leaving his dextrous hands and leanly muscled lower arms free, one can easily imagine how the rest of his body must look; and the pleasing combination of colours, ranging from forest green to a deep teal, almost seem to make one think of a small, shady clearing in a Le-Wahi forest, a calm place amidst the storm of life. However, most important are his eyes; with a gentle almond shape, and of a deep blue colour, like two mountain springs, they are extremely emotive, and at the same time extremely perceptive. Weapons and Kanohi: Eutuchia’s only weapons are a small knife and his voice. The first, able to cause physical wounds; the other powerful enough to weave you into some sort of spell, causing many to hang on his every word. He’s spent a long time training his voice to reach that sort of ability, to try to make his singing, his speech, nearly hypnotic, if he needs it to be. His Kanohi is a simple powerless Ruru. Tools/Items: Eutuchia carries many tools, all of which are those either for gardening or for maintaining his instruments, or building yet more for sale. His only item that he habitually carries with him is a small tenor ukulele, tuned with a traditional high G string, though he has many others in his shop/home. Weaknesses: Due to his small size, he isn’t the best match against some larger beings; however, he isn’t a fighter as it is. As well, his instruments and tools are worth as much to him as his own life, and he is loth to allow one of them to get damaged. After that, his lower arms and hands are rather free of protective armour. Personality: While mainly presenting himself as having a rather carefree sort of demeanor, Eutuchia is a rather caring individual, always putting others first over himself. While normally he is happy, he can rather easily notice when somebody is not, or if they’ve been rather stressed, angry, or otherwise, and will always do what he can to help. Biography: Eutuchia is a Matoran from the Southern Continent, though his memories of being there are rather fuzzy, having been gone so long; he doesn’t speak about it often. The most he tells anybody about his past is that, one day out on a boating trip, he got caught in a storm; after a week out at sea he washed up on Mata-Nui, halfway dead, but with a Ukulele clutched in his hands. After he woke he found himself in Le-Koro, where most Matoran of his type came to live, though unlike them, he found it too raucous for him. Instead of just retiring to the deeper jungle he traveled across the island, coming to rest in Ga-Koro. He quickly set about getting to know quite a few of the people in that village, including Nokama, the Turaga, and after a couple weeks he joined the Ga-Koro Marines, aiding the defense of the village from crises that beset it. Once Makuta was removed, however, he retired from that to work simply as a musician, gardener, and assistant to anybody who needed one, including Hahli, the village Akiri. Name: Beosach Species and Gender: Male Po-Matoran Power(s): No evident powers, but Beosach, as a Po-Matoran, has the greatest natural strength of all other types of Matoran, nearly able to compete with a Toa of Air in terms of baseline strength. Appearance: Beosach is a stocky Matoran of average height, with green eyes against his brown armour. His armour, while form-fitting, seems outwardly to look as though it was carved from rock, with distinctly angular features, all in shades of sandy tan and rocky brown. Abilities and Skills: Beosach is a great navigator, able to find his way around in Po-Wahi, or anywhere else, without much trouble, having spent the multiple years before the road to Po-Koro was created learning his way around the Wahi, creating one of the first comprehensive maps of its eastern half, in which Po-Koro is located, before returning to take up the typical occupation of a craftsman of whatever sort; in Beosach’s case, a weaponsmith, though he does some stonework. This was also when he learned to become rather proficient with his weapon, a lochaber axe. As well, Beosach is one of a small number of Po-Matoran who is able to swim; having helped to man some of the boats they sent to begin their earlier trade with Ga-Wahi, he made a point of learning the sport of swimming, so that if he fell out he wouldn’t be consigned to slow death by drowning. Weapons, Equpiment, and Kanohi: Beosach’s weapon is a lochaber axe, only slightly shorter than he is tall; the hook on the back end of the blade actually is part of the blade on his axe, sharpened on the inside like a sickle, to make it more dangerous than it already was. As a weaponsmith he has all necessary tools in his forge, though he keeps a rock hammer and chisel with him for any stonecarving or gemwork. Beosach’s Kanohi is a powerless Hau-shaped Pakari, in tan, which is the primary armour colour of his. Weaknesses: As a Matoran, Beosach has no ability to use the powers of his element, and, while stronger than most Matoran, he is weaker than most Toa; also, he sets greater store in protecting others than himself, which not only leaves him vulnerable in combat if a friend is nearby, it leads to him getting into fights in attempts to protect others. Personality: Beosach is generally a friendly fellow, though he can seem overprotective to his friends, at time, and even to others; mainly, though, this is because he wants everybody to keep safe and not get hurt. As well, he sets a large store on maintaining one’s honour, so he can, at times, seem to be a rather haughty individual. Biography: One of the Matoran native to Mata-Nui, Beosach has been living on the island, specifically in Po-Wahi, as long as he can remember. One of the first things he did was explore Po-Wahi, learning the land and creating one of the first, comprehensive maps of the eastern half of the region, and memorizing all of the myriad ways to Po-Koro, when then there was no road to the Koro. Later, after going through a cursory examination of the other regions and Koro of the island, he settled down, setting up shop as a weaponsmith, mainly, though with some work done in terms of stonecarving and as a jeweler, aiding the Setinels every once in a while, though never a full member; mainly, he provides them with their arms, though he will also go on some trading caravans or boat trips whenever he feels he needs a break from the norm. Name: Karnakie Species and Gender: Male Kaiakan Power(s): After exposure to Antidermis, Karnakie gained the power to project himself onto the mental plane, similar to how an Iden user might project their spirit out into the world, separate from their body. When Karnakie is projecting, he is, essentially, separate from his body. He also has the ability to implant himself within another's mind, either communicating with them that way or attacking them. He can communicate with another mind in a manner similar to telepathy, though he doesn't automatically have to make himself known. He can, if he chooses, choose to hide himself from the other mind's perceptions, giving suggestions and playing at being a consciousness. Of course, the person whose mind is being suggested to can ignore those suggestions, just as they might ignore their own consciousness. The other, far more aggressive ability he was given, is the ability to attack somebody's consciousness directly. By striking at the very building blocks of a person's personality, Karnakie can essentially induce insanity into his target. However, this also makes his presence completely known, allowing the target to fight back mentally to protect themselves. However, this new power of Karnakie's comes with a cost. The more he projects himself, the more familiar he becomes with using his power, the less ability he has to fully reconnect with his own physical body, and the less comfortable he feels when a part of the physical world - driving him to wish to project himself again, to return to the mental plane, until such a time comes that he is unable to return within his body and act within the physical world every again - though he might still experience the physical world and know what is going on, by embedding himself for a time within another mind and observing the sensory input that the mind receives. Abilities and Skills: As a Kaiakan, Karnakie is a large, durable, and strong man - not as strong as somebody with a Pakari, but he could certainly wrestle a Skakdi into submission, and stand toe to toe with a Po-Toa - and as for his durability, he can rather effectively shrug off hits that might deter a smaller, thinner-skinned being, though he certainly isn't invulnerable to anything. As for his skills, Karnakie is both an accomplished swordsman, axman, and Kane-Ra rider - all considered essential skills for somebody from his family to have. It also makes for a quite imposing sight, when a large Kaiakan is running you down on a Kane-Ra, swinging a lochaber axe left and right without any trouble. Beyond that, Karnakie is quite intelligent and diplomatic - advanced in rhetoric as well as battle tactics and skilled in the games of economics, he can hold his own in any of the fields of battle that he might be found in. And he certainly knows how to use his prodigious strength in any battle. Appearance and Traits: A tall, thick-boned, thickly muscled, and thick-skinned Kaiakan, Karnakie is a prime example of the Kaiakan race - one might even say the holotype, for those living on Mata-Nui. Broad-shouldered, with a thick neck and a slightly attractive face, Karnakie's maroon armour is covered with the marks of battles fought and won - scratches here and there, every so often a large scar cut in, though all those are only superficial. He has yet to fight any that could seriously wound him or even what he wears. Beneath the armour, his musculature is well defined, his skin appearing almost to have been chiseled from dark gray Purbeck Marble, feeling smooth, yet almost leathery to the touch - a natural armour. His eyes are a deep, dark blue - slightly at odds with his armour - and his voice is a (normally) deep baritone (though with a range from low tenor to a rumbling basso profondo), rich in its tonal quality with an almost hypnotizing allure, silky when he wishes it to be, always speaking with a light burr. After utilizing antidermis upon himself, Karnakie's appearance has changed. His armour, formerly maroon and appearing heavily used, is now black and grey, and appears to be new again, and his skin is now ashen in colour. Weapons and Kanohi: Karnakie wears no Kanohi - he doesn't need one, nor can he really use one. Besides, he views them simply as a crutch - a true warrior shouldn't need such a thing. As for his weaponry, Karnakie is well trained in the usage of two main weapons: the longsword, a rather well-liked weapon in his homeland, and the lochaber axe - a large polearm, and for one as large as a Kaiakan, equally suitable for use mounted as dismounted. With its long blade that comes to a sharp point nearly ten inches out from where the end of the haft is, Karnakie can use it as a quite effective stabbing weapon should he need to - especially if he needs a lance. The lochaber, with the sharpened point and with its large butt spike, functions rather well in that capacity. His longsword, meanwhile, is more of a hand-and-a-half sword for him - though it could easily function as a two-handed sword for a Toa. Tools/Items: Karnakie keeps all the tools and items and such needed to take care of himself, his armour, his weapons, and his Kane-Ra in his saddlebags. However, aside from that, he has a rather sizable collection of literature - fictional or non-fictional - that he keeps with him, as well as quite a good bit of paper, pens, ink, an abacus, and all his wealth - converted to widgets, of course, so that he could function economically on this new island. Pet/Mount: Karnakie has a large Kane-Ra bull for a pet and mount, named Karys. Karys is a rather typical example of a Kane-Ra, though he doesn't seem quite as aggressive as most others naturally are...though this isn't to say that he isn't aggressive at all. He moreso has greater discipline than wild Kane-Ra. Weaknesses: Being unable to use Kanohi, lacking in elemental powers, lacking in vision powers, and lacking in technological prowess, Karnakie - like other Kaiakan - is at a disadvantage, compared to most other beings on the island. As well, he is not a particularly stealthy individual, most of the time - he considers it far nobler to meet your enemy head-on in honourable battle; leave the slinking about in the shadows, the covert killing, all of that to the mercenaries and assassins you might hire. Personality: Karnakie is a bit of a mixed figure. On one hand, he views physical battle as great sport, and as a great determinate of who deserves what in the world - be it life, land, wealth, or otherwise. However, as he is also a businessman, he understands the value of diplomacy and rhetoric, and often prefers to test the waters with both of those before going on to wasteful battle. For while he views battle as great sport and fun, he also sees it as a somewhat wasteful pursuit, in terms of wealth and such lost. Beyond that, he wishes to carve out a niche for himself in the island, gain himself some power, and if he does that via trade and politics or through simple war, he will get it done, as he is a very determined individual - he will not let that which he wants slip from his grasp, and he will not leave any goal or task that he has set out to achieve or do unfinished. Beyond that, he often acts as a rather noble individual, and honourable. While he isn't nice at any rate - wanting to do whatever he can to carve out his own domain - he generally treats others with a measure of respect and almost friendliness, be they trading with each other, or on the field of battle. He finds great fun in witty banter, and will often drop some such comment into any conversation he might be in. However - despite his noble, honourable disposition, he is not benevolent except to those he knows and trusts (and even then, not particularly so), he can be quite arrogant, and he will not hesitate to murder somebody if he feels it necessary. Biography: Karnakie was born as a member of one of the higher castes in his species and society on his homeland, though he was, at times, treated worse than the lowest of the low - his family had fallen into dishonour before his birth, and operated as simple tradesmen, having never distinguished themselves through military prowess. Looked down upon by others of his own caste and treated almost as an equal by the other castes for much of his young life, Karnakie's outlook soon became one of fiery discontent - discontent with his position, discontent with his family's lack of wealth, discontent with how he was treated and how his family could do little to tear themselves from the mould they had been fit to. However, as for all Kaiakan, military service to those of higher standing was always a means of advancement; and as all Kaiakan of high standing were warlords, all needed some sort of fighting force at their disposal. So Karnakie did the first thing he knew to do: he volunteered to serve under the ruler of his home city, in the hopes of advancing himself beyond his then-lowly position. Quickly trained to ride and fight as well as any other Kaiakan might be expected to, the young man was sent off to battle relatively soon into his adulthood...and those who sent him out quickly realized that he would never allow himself to lose, always making sure he stayed one step ahead of his enemies, somehow, and never allowed anything more than an essentially superficial scratch to mark him. The family he served quickly took notice of this, quickly promoting him as he continued to display exemplary military skill, either in fighting or in leading the troops they entrusted to him. They came to view this young Kaiakan, born in dishonour, as one worthy of being called a friend - even family, to them, though they never could truthfully adopt him...and as such, Karnakie was always kept out of the place of honour he most desired, kept from ruling any space of his own. Until the moment that his father was found a suspect of a murder. When forces were sent by the ruling family to take him into custody, the man rebelled, gathering what remained of his meager household to him, to fight until the end. All of them were taken into custody, that fought - and that was all but Karnakie. As a demonstration of their trust in him, and expecting him to serve them as he had before, the family placed Karnakie in charge of the execution - and made him personally the executioner of his father. As Karnakie ascended to the platform where his father's execution would take place, numerous pleas for mercy and aid found their way to half-listening ears and a closed heart. The young Kaiakan's only words to the man he was to kill, when told by that man that he should do as his father said and help, were these: "My father is not being executed; my father ordered this execution." Karnakie's axe fell, and his father's soul was released from the world...just as Karnakie released his former name. Now he was a member of a different family, one that could provide him with education, with wealth, with standing and honour...one that would allow him to rule. He was quickly brought in, and thrust into the life of one of high social standing - into politics, economics, and the war that he knew well. He quickly learned that words often made better weapons than did swords or axes, and that if you could bleed your enemy dry through trade you might never have to shed blood at all to subjugate them. Where before he had been a warrior, Karnakie was now shaping up to be a ruler. Yet when he was passed over for the ruling of the outer territories the family had, in favour of the family's natural son - one who was, in Karnakie's eyes, far less deserving of what honour he was given - the young Kaiakan's fighting spirit and almost uncontrollable envy and lust for power flared up again. Though now he knew that he wouldn't get what he wanted unless he was to be careful about it. Diplomatic. He couldn't rush in with an axe or a sword and get what he wished...he would have to steal it from them, all whilst acting in plain sight. For the well-liked self-built man, it wasn't hard for him to gather support from those he had led, numerous times, into battle...or from other families on the island. Or, even, from a shadowy advisor. One who supplied him with greater knowledge and guidance than he'd had before, should he promise to serve the man when the man needed his help; weighing his options, Karnakie agreed. He knew it wouldn't be much of an issue. And when that man gave him the idea to go with a full military coup, and when that coup succeeded, Karnakie took it one step further; he wanted all the control of that area. So he didn't just force that family to give him the original territories. He killed them, leaving him as the sole heir of their entire territory - and the only man who had the power to conquer surrounding territories. It was quite soon, however, after he'd finished his campaigns to expand his own, personal empire - not just with his family's original territory, but with most of that surrounding it - he found himself washed up upon some island he'd never seen or heard of before. His memory was quite full of holes, and even what he did remember he wasn't sure was true or some odd construct of his imagination. He did, however, retain all of his skills, memory of all the battles he'd been in - if not why he'd fought them - and he retained knowledge of the shadowy old creature that had brought him to so many victories before, and he quite quickly guessed that it was that man who had brought him to this island. A favour for a favour...quickly finding out who was in control of the island, a force of evil known as Makuta, Karnakie pledged himself to the being's service; he had sworn to serve the man when it was needed, and he would never go back on an oath, or leave any debt unpaid. But once Makuta was removed from the picture, the island was suddenly free for the taking...for whoever might decide to take it. Name: Praggos Species and Gender: Male Toa of Ice Kanohi: Hau-shaped Mask of Healing Appearance: Praggos is of rather average height for most Toa, perhaps even a little shorter than usual. He doesn't wear particularly much armour, preferring cloth over metal, though he has enough to protect himself; and on his upper right arm, one can almost trace out the vestiges of the mark he used to carry. Generally rather well dressed and clean cut, Praggos isn't particularly unattractive, though he's nowhere near that of some other Toa on the island. Powers: Praggos has the usual powers of a Toa of Ice, though refined to an exquisite control. He can do what is usual - make blocks of ice, cause snow to fall, freeze an opponent outwardly, or he can do other, more fine things: he can chill a small object to almost supercooled temperatures, given time, or freeze an opponent's fluid within their bodies, or other such things, though these require quite a bit of energy, concentration, and time. Abilities and Skills: Praggos is, first of all, a healer, anymore. He had functioned as a medic for the Sanctum Guards prior to being taken off with the rest of the Mark Bearers, and his actions as part of that group have led to his wish to return to that profession, almost as a method of atonement. With his mask and knowledge of various herbs and such around the island - that he still travels to collect, at times - he's very proficient with what he does. Other than that, he is skilled, though by no means a master, with various weapons, and as mentioned, has taken his elemental control to a level of refinement that few try to achieve. Weapons and Equipment: Praggos has, for quite a long time, been trying to find a good weapon for his use. He's tried swords, staves, spears, hammers, axes, almost anything you can think of that he might use, though now he contents himself with a simple protosteel quarterstaff, and an arming sword. Other than that, he has a satchel that he carries various medical supplies in, as well as his widgets, and perhaps a few other small possessions - though he keeps most things medical supplies and such in his hut in Le-Koro. A large, four room hut - living area, working area, sleeping area, and wine cellar. He has a large collection of wines, as well. Weaknesses: Praggos has devoted himself to attempt to save and preserve life more than he might take it, and unless things are horribly wrong, he will always strike to disable an opponent, not to kill. As well, he's still somewhat ashamed of what he did as a Mark Bearer, and bringing that up enough is a surefire way to either make him angry, or just make him withdraw himself from the world for a time. Personality: Praggos has been said to be arrogant, cold, contemptuous, and those descriptors were - and some times, still are - applicable to him. He's calmed down a bit, though - his brushes with mortality and morality both have had a sobering effect on his personality, and he much prefers to just stay back and help others. He's quite well ashamed of himself for quite a few of his actions as a Mark Bearer, and still works to atone for them. Aside from that, he can also be somewhat indecisive or flighty - though this doesn't show particularly often. Bio: Originally a medic and scientist for the Ko-Koro Sanctum Guard, Praggos, ever the experimenter, found himself one day to be the experiment; a mark was found upon his shoulder of a most peculiar design, glowing with a burgundy light at times, and seeming to accentuate the worst parts of his personality. Eventually, he met with a group of others who were plagued with marks like he was, travelling with them for a time, and acting in ways that he now views as completely and utterly detestable. Eventually, he came to live in Le-Wahi, first in Pala-Koro, later in Le-Koro, acting as a doctor and trying to forget the actions of his past - though sometimes he finds himself lonely for the company of a few of those he had known, some of the only people to share a plight he had - and some of the only people who would understand why he acted as he did. Name: Xicuta Species and Gender: Parakuka, no gender (masculine personality) Power(s): Xicuta, as a Parakuka, has the ability to latch onto a being and use them as a host, while slowly draining power away from them as it feeds, as well as tapping into their own nervous system and sensing the outside world along with its host. As well, Xicuta can, momentarily, power up its host, although this generally leaves it and the host (currently, Kixin) exhausted later, and can prove dangerous. Appearance: Xicuta is an old and large Parakuka, perfectly sized for the large being its latched onto. Its body is covered in hard, chitinous plates - a sort of natural armour - and can often be seen pulsing rhythmically, like a heart beating, upon Kixin’s back. When especially distressed, a sort of natural lubricant - likely derived from the hemolymph within Xicuta’s body - can be seen to be oozing out from between the chitinous plates, though this normally doesn’t happen. When transformed, Xicuta’s chitinous plates lengthen and form spines similar to those on the backs of Rahkshi, making Kixin look far more ferocious than he actually is (or, at least, than Xicuta thinks he is). Abilities and Skills: Xicuta is very well adapted to Kixin, and can sense the world through Kixin - as well as Kixin being able to sense what happens to Xicuta, not just through the mental link, but actually physically sensing it, so deeply as Xicuta made his connection to Kixin. As well, Xicuta has a great amount of control over when it and Kixin transform, and when they revert from their transformation. Weaknesses: Xicuta has no ability to actively protect itself, which means it has to rely on Kixin for nearly everything - and should it be forcibly separated from Kixin, not of its own will, they’ll both die. Should it be killed while Kixin lives, Kixin will still die. Should the transformation be held too long, Kixin and Xicuta will run out of energy and both die. All in all, Xicuta’s weaknesses relate to how it can’t protect itself and how if it dies, Kixin dies, if Kixin dies, it dies. Not fun for either of them. Personality: Xicuta is, currently, an old, somewhat grumpy Parakuka with an ofttimes sarcastic (and sadistic) sense of humour, although nowhere near as evil as most Parakuka are (rightfully) assumed to be...although it isn’t good, either. Xicuta has simply seen enough in its age to decide that it wishes to be affiliated with neither that which is commonly perceived as good or that which is commonly perceived as evil, nor does it want to worship either a dead and sleeping god or a ‘father’ that held little respect for his own creation beyond its being a tool and is also, currently, dead and gone. Biography: Created by Makuta, Xicuta was one of the earliest Parakuka. It was also one of the stronger Parakuka from its batch, able to fight with (and win against) numerous Kraata that its’ father’ had created. Soon, though, it found it needed more by way of sustenance, and left Makuta’s lair in search of beings to feed upon. From the names of its first six hosts, Xicuta developed a name for itself, as it came to understand language - although it never deigned to learn to properly communicate in the Matoran language, until it came to its most current host, Kixin, after living relatively secluded for a time in a cave in Ko-Wahi. Now that Kixin and Xicuta have re-integrated with society, Xicuta has basically been commanded to learn the Matoran language, in return for Kixin continuing to work with it at times. The Parakuka’s grasp of the language is certainly quite elementary and often inconsistent, but it’s getting there - regardless of whether or not Xicuta prefers its previous method of communication. Name: Jerin (pronounced j=y) Species and Gender: Male Toa of Earth Kanohi: Noble-shaped Great Akaku Power(s): As a Toa of Earth, Jerin has the abilities to control the earth around him, create more of it, and absorb energy from it; his Akaku, meanwhile, grants him the power to see through objects should he use it. He also has excellent night vision and can easily sense vibrations through the ground, and is somewhat stronger than most Toa (discounting, of course, Po-Toa). Appearance: Jerin is a rather typical example of a Toa of Earth. His body is coloured in blacks and greys, and he stands with a noticeable hunch - although he is relatively tall should he stand up straight; his hunch was simply developed due to spending so much time underground. His armour is of the heavy, protective sort, although years of getting used to it has helped Jerin to develop the speed and agility most others have. His hands are noticeably clawed (with three fingers and a thumb, compared to the usual four and a thumb), compared to other Toa, an adaptation to make it easier for him to dig through the Earth without having to expend his elemental energy as he does so. Abilities and Skills: Jerin is a skilled miner, as that was his occupation before he became a Toa and remained to be afterwards. He also has an excellent memory, and almost never forgets anything that is said to him. Beyond this, he did not spend all his years as either Matoran or Toa without learning something of battle, and can hold his own in a fight if he should be forced into one. Weapons: As a Matoran, Jerin wielded a simple pick-hammer, able to be used with either one or two hands; when he transformed into a Toa, this tool transformed as well. It is still useable for mining, though now it has been optimized for warfare as well, with the haft now made entirely of metal, with a spear point now on the bottom of it (commonly kept covered by a screwed-on metal attachment when not being used in battle). He also acquired a shield during his transformation, which he commonly uses in combat, preferring to use his pick-hammer with one hand. Also, his claws, naturally sharp and slightly retractable, are able to be used as weapons, as they are made of protosteel. Other Possessions: Jerin has a small home in Onu-Koro, one that he carved into the side of the main cavern to replace his former Matoran hut. He also has a small pack for carrying his items when he travels, with a few hundred widgets of spending money on him at all times. Strapped onto the pack is a portable shelter should he be somewhere where it is impractical to carve one into the earth, and he has a cloak for warmth. Weaknesses: Jerin isn't much of a fighter, and will commonly take the defensive position rather than the offensive; most of his fighting experience is only against Rahi. Also, if you manage to get around him or unbalance him, you have a much better chance of getting an attack in. Personality: Jerin is a quiet Toa, much like many Onu-Toa are, although he is relatively friendly. He just doesn't talk much. He doesn't complain much, and he sees little point in holding a grudge, although he will if he feels its warranted. He's easy to annoy but hard to anger, and doing the latter can be relatively dangerous for one's health. Bio: Jerin is a native to Mata-Nui, and was primarily just a miner. After the Toa Mata disappeared he was one of those who was transformed into a (shoddy knock-off) Toa, and simply continued his work (despite attempts by the Ussalry to get him to join). Nowadays he spends a lot of his time travelling, though he has agreed that, if he is in Onu-Koro, he will aid the Ussalry as needed. He's simply trying to dispel the boredom he feels when he remains in Onu-Wahi.
  6. Franco

    Ascending Down

    Prologue: Day 0 Makuta is gone, and Sulov is back. He is not cognizant of anything but that fact at first, a truth that lifts weight from his chest, and as he looks where the darkness used to be, he just thinks: it's done. Then: we did it. Finally: we won. Onua is proud. Something rises in his throat. All this time, he has reserved his feelings, letting but the positive and the mild show on the surface. Now the dam has burst. He needs to share his joy, to put aside review of what has happened or care for his injuries in favor of happiness. He gets up, only now noticing his sit on Mangaia's battered floor, and looks untrammeled through the dim at the others. He perceives their exhaustion, brims with concern; but their faces sweep that away along with the self-barricade. He spots Oreius, shocked but not severely hurt. Sulov remembers Oreius' doubt and wants to give his friend peace. Justice must reward the good as well as punish the bad. He lunges and pulls the Ta-Toa against his chest-- --And Oreius' armor meets flayed body, smaller form knocking broken ribs and cracking shattered arm. Instead of succumbing, Sulov breathes out the pain; instead of hissing, he sighs slightly, still. What rose in his throat is stuck. It would not be leal for Oreius, who piloted the boat, and kept Stannis safe, and defied the expectation of betrayal, to have to worry about anything now. Sulov is not shameful, but resolute. He holds Oreius for many wordless seconds before he gently extricates himself to examine those injuries. He waves off the others. They are happy, and they don't need him right now. ... As Sulov finishes, Stannis speaks, and Sulov leans against the wall, listening. “We will return here soon, to finish our work; the dark instruments of the Makuta remain, and we must remove them. But now is not the time. Now, we owe the people of Mata Nui the knowledge that they have been craving: that Makuta is gone. Each of us should go to our Koros – or, our new Koros – and tell the people what has transpired here.” Sulov does not agree. Morality is clear: the people must know, Makuta's lair must be dismantled. But the team must not split up. We have something special, Sulov thinks. We are versed in each other, and we know where we stand among ourselves. We won together. Tamping down the minor niggles of Stannis' Mask, the Maru are people who should work together. And why not? Putting together Sulov's Mask and Korero's, the Maru can alert all the villages more easily than if divided, find recuperation quicker than divided, clean up the island more efficiently than if divided. Then it strikes him. They don't need efficiency. They've won, haven't they? The biggest evil they have left to defeat is discontent, and the only job clean-up duty. From the looks on their masks, Sulov understands. They would be happy to follow Stannis' direction. It would be good for them to have time away from each other. Meanwhile, Sulov can catch up on his old friends, return to how things were before he was exiled. Everything will come back together soon enough, the better for it. He sees the future can be better than the present and the past. It can be both. Sulov stays silent. When the others begin to move, he does also. He waves before he goes. Curious, he notes, stepping into his tunnel, he's never enjoyed saying goodbye before. Review
  7. 'Ello, world of wonders! Today I bring you a little something I was working on for a while - The toughest Skakdi around, Daltrahk. Currently working as a bodyguard in Po-Wahi. Here are the pictures - sorry for the blurriness of the last one. Front pose: http://www.brickshelf.com/gallery/ghidora131/Daltrahk/100_3549.jpg Back pose: http://www.brickshelf.com/gallery/ghidora131/Daltrahk/100_3550.jpg Aiming Magma Gear(bad photo): http://www.brickshelf.com/gallery/ghidora131/Daltrahk/100_3551.jpg So, thoughts? criticism? walrus?
  8. Hey all! It's weird to post two creations so soon after one another in BBC, this coming right on the heels of my Uhuraz revamp (my BftGM contest entry). But hey, the Thanksgiving weekend - which entailed being reunited with the bulk of my MOCing pieces - turned out to be a productive one for me. This is a smaller MOC than Uhuraz, but it's a wholly new creation, and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Voila Soraya. She's a BZPRPG character of GSR's, a feisty Dashi seamstress who, like her submarine bunkmate Nihi (a character who actually belongs to me), finds herself tangled up in an adventure she didn't necessarily sign up for. Soraya's known and adored by the BZPRPG player base for her proletariat charm, her unflappable honesty, and her gift for creating elaborate cocktail outfits for the nobles of her native island. In my process of making a feasible Matoran-sized MOC, I took liberties with GSR's visual description of Soraya. I actually hardly adhered to his description (sorry, Nate!), opting instead to distinguish Soraya as herself primarily with the tools of her distinctive trade. How many BIONICLE seamstresses do you know? Exactly! Building a BIONICLE seamstress was a unique sort of challenge that I eagerly tackled. Creating sewing tools sized right for a Matoran - Soraya carries scissors, a set of needles, a smock, a magnifying glass for small stitches, a tape measure, several spools of thread, and a thimble (I couldn't find anywhere to put a pincushion...) - was the icing on the cake of this challenge; harder and more substantial a test for me was conceiving a stable, flexible, and aesthetically decent Matoran design that could support Soraya's psionic elemental color scheme. As usual, the pictures here link to their larger versions on Flickr. If you'd like to look at the complete gallery, it can be found here. Smile for the people now! Thanks for looking! All comments and critiques are welcomed.
  9. Those of you who have played the BZPRPG in recent years might remember the banners I created for the 2011 reboot. They were, in a word, cute; I screencapped some images from the Mata Nui Online Game and pasted some text on top. Some were boring, some looked cool. They served their purpose: to advertise the BZPRPG. As summer comes to an end three years later, I find myself in that rare lull between the end of my summer job and the beginning of school. Bored, I decided to whip up a couple BZPRPG-inspired banners, just like old times. Here's one of them: Is your curiosity piqued? Basically, the BZPRPG reboot started under similar conditions to 2001 canon: the Makuta cast his shadow over Mata Nui, the Toa Mata came to overthrow him, yadda yadda yadda. Only, in our story, something different happened: they failed. Tahu, Gali, and the others fell to Makuta, and he was free to unleash his shadows on the island. For a hundred years, the Matoran desperately held their own against the forces of evil, with nothing left save the hope that Mata Nui would raise up new heroes to finish what the First Toa could not. What happens next? You'll have to pop over to the BZPRPG to find out. Might as well make a profile and jump in while you're there; it's a ton of fun! Anywho, hope ya like. All comments appreciated.
  10. >>> BZPRPG TECH ILLUSTRATIONS >>> by the great and powerful Perpetual Darkness (the artist formerly known as D EternalShadow) So apparently those guys and gals over in the BZPRPG Discussion topic enjoyed my illustrations of some of the native tech, specifically the Patero Launcher. So I'll post whatever I draw and vector here, for your viewing pleasure. I'm also taking requests for illustrations of personal foreign tech. (Free of charge~) _____________________________________________________________ Patero Launcher (Rifle) (Outdated) Patero Launcher (Pistol) (Concept Only) UPDATE: Decided to do a redesign of my original Patero illustration. Below are the newer illustrations: Patero Launcher V2.0 [NEW] Inner Workings of the Launcher [NEW] 'Civilian' and 'Military' models [NEW] / COMMISSIONED WORK / ___________________________________________ Farzan's Equipment (for Gyro Gearloose/Geardirector) Diskette Pistol Diskette Rifle Rebounding Shield Wrist-Volo _____________________________________________________________ Syvra, Kidona and Celis' Weaponry (for VoxuChro/Voxumo) SYVRA: Akrei's Thorn [NEW] KIDONA: Kidona's Vevimo Battleaxe Kidona's Oborui Energy Pistol CELIS: Crystal Sosun Pattah Crystal Misericorde Crystal Cane (With hidden blowgun) Other Stuff: Alternate Misericorde Colour Schemes First Few Misericorde Variations Original Sosun Pattah Colour Concepts The Crystal Cane's Dragon-head Topper Misericorde Parts 2 3 Sosun Pattah Parts 2 Misericorde Components Sosun Pattah Components toot toot
  11. A long time ago in an RPG arc far away I drew Ferron, toa of iron. Now almost a year has past and Ferron's gone from toa to turaga in the BZPRPG. To commemorate Geardirector's fantastic job with this character I turned my artistic eye back on the forlorn forgemaster. As always, C&C is most certainly appreciated! (Click image for full resolution.) I think this was the first time I really buckled down and tried to get the lighting just right. I may throw in the forge itself as a background in the future, but I wanted to catch the light coming off the piece of metal Ferron is hammering as it glanced across his carapace.
  12. So there's this team of Toa in the BZPRPG known as the Toa Maru. They're pretty much the chosen ones and all, and the most powerful group of Toa on the island of the Mata Nui (and they defeated the Makuta and what-not, although that was the power of the plot device.) One of my fellow players, the incredibly talented Vezok's Friend, or as he's known currently, Smaug the Terrible, did a piece of art that showed every member of the team standing dramatically. It was pretty beautiful, so I decided to try replicating his success. As a joke. I was obviously not as good as him. But here are my exploits, with the designs based off his art (go check out his stuff, it's great). Click for greatness.
  13. Done for Veef, because he's awesome like that. Click to see full view!
  14. Finally! A chance to do this. Herupa Jiyu: https://www.flickr.com/photos/90889403@N08/sets/72157644689360882 Dorian Shaddix: https://www.flickr.com/photos/90889403@N08/14089327100/in/photostream/ First and formost, I apologize for the lack of Photo's for Dorian. I had taken a good lot of them... But they all vanished from my computer, and I couldn't find them I'll have to take them at a later date... Regardless, I hope you enjoy! ^^
  15. @Admis: If you can change the topic name to "Greisk: Toa of Magnetism" that would be so great. ThankS! The second character for Norik from the BZPRPG, this is Greisk. Greisk is a toa of magnetism (don't let the earth-elemental colors fool ya'), who wields a pair of iron bars and wears a cowboy hat. I was gonna' add the hat, but then I realized those beautiful horns on his kanohi were just to gorgeous to cover up. So here he is without equipment striking a pose. (Click image for Full resolution.) This took about 3 hours to complete using Artrage demo program and a Wacom. As always I would love some C&C. Also, I definitely stole some tips from Vezok's Friend and Demitsorou, but hey: copying in the entertainment industry is the greatest form of flattery. ~Kughii BONUS CONTENT: First up is the fifteen minute digital speed sketch I did after reading the profile. He was a little too bulky, and the red felt cap was actually supposed to be a brown cowboy hat, but I was trying to catch the elemental powers in mid-motion.
  16. GSR

    Anonymous Kittens

    While discussing the state of the BZPRPG, I made it clear to folks that if they wanted to provide feedback anonymously, they could contact me and I would post it for them. One person asked if I could anonymously provide kittens; I responded that unfortunately I couldn't post it in the topic unless the kittens could be contextualized in the RPG, but that I could make a blog post. I'm a man of my word, and I hope this person feels safe that they were able to anonymously provide kittens to the forum.
  17. Lady Kriigata, toa of iron and acolyte in the Brotherhood of Ak'rei'an in the BZPRPG. This was a sketch to show her 2014 appearance, since her armor often changes as her life develops. Heavily influenced by both Evil Accret on Deviant Art and Vezok's Friend right here on BZP (copying is the greatest form of flattery), I picked up the pencil and sketched. (Click image for larger version.) As always, C&C appreciated!
  18. Kiron is a toa of flame from the BZPRPG. He carries several bottles of juice flavored water and a scimitar. I promised to sketch this character a few months back for Norik and I was finally able to pull through today. Comments and Critique most welcome! (Click image for full resolution.)
  19. Colx, Melna, and Helios are all BZPRPG characters created and played by Gyro Gearloose (Geardirector). These three gravity elementals form the Gravity Trio, a group of friends who live and laugh on the island of Mata-Nui. In honor of the awesome-sauce that Gears lavishes in his posts I wanted to draw the trio all together. At first I was going to draw them in a sweaty gym posing for the camera. Then I decided a summer beach party would be more fun. Why not make the beach party for three rough warriors turn into a sparring session in the sand? (Click image for full resolution.) My apologies for several things, especially the hands. However, I believe it's impossible to get better at drawing something without actually drawing it so... Hands are what they are until my skill has improved from drawing them hundreds of times. XD Comments and critique are always appreciated. I really do take into consideration everything you say. Ciao for now! ~Kughii
  20. "Appearance similar to Toa Lhikan; deep red color with gold accents and armor, with a dash of orange and silver. Tall, built, muscular and athletic, his former bodybuilding and physical training translated during his transformation from Matoran to Toa. His is not large by any means, still on the smaller side, but needless to say his physique is that of a perfect physical specimen, and he works to keep it that way." So goes the profile description of Toa Joske, Friar Tuck's signature character in the BZPRPG. After browsing the wiki for the game this morning and realizing there had been no art uploaded I took it upon myself to make something. Here's the result. Critique always is a fantastic way for me to improve, so feel free to throw down what you think I can work on. I was shooting toward a grungy/overly inked feel, heavy lines, etc. (Click image for full resolution.) I kind of liked drawing Joske. Maybe I'll go draw Cael now... Or both in the same sketch?
  21. Rhea Heartsflame is a toa of plasma written by Shadowhawk in the BZPRPG. Also, this is my first fully digital illustration. C&C always appreciated! This took about 3 hours from start to finish. Also, keep checking on this topic for images featuring Rhea (such as decked out in her equipment, action shots and a certain "special surprise")! (Click image for larger resolution.)
  22. An older sketch of mine that I finally got around to putting through Photoshop, overall pleased with how it came out. The character himself is even older, an Infected Toa known as Krell. Was really fun to play. Stinks he pretty much immediately died after getting out from Makuta's influence. Ah well. Link
  23. By far my favorite personal character in the BZPRPG, Ishi Polzin - aka The Hapaka - has been a constant challenger to my writing and plot abilities from day one. This was a fast sketch, mainly just to try and get down proportions and the move of his lava-eel scaled coat (which I was drawing while watching Sword Art Online for references). The book in his right is Ahkmou's journal, the karambit in his left stolen from a would-be assassin who found themselves thrown off a train. (click image for a larger version.) This was done using a no.2 pencil (approximately HB). Comment and critique most appreciated! I will not tell you how many times I redrew the hands...
  24. Another BZPRPG fanart piece, this one of some generic Po-Koro Guard, or more properly, a Sentinel as they're called now. More of a warm-up work than anything else, a speedpaint if it qualifies as that. Not really sure on the species, could be Toa, could be Lesterin, could be Matoran. Regardless, he's your friendly neighborhood Sentinel, ready to help old Turaga cross the street and kick butt. Linky Linky Link. Why a Sentinel? Well, because Po-Koro really is one of my favorite Koros within all of the BZPRPG. I mean, if they successfully repelled a Rahkshi army with pretty much nothing but their average Joe villagers, well, they really deserve special mention. onu-koro has nothing on these guys ;3 love you tarnok As usual, comments and critique welcome.
  25. Mr. Sir Grimdark Commander Serious Dehkaz disapproves of sunsets. Just some quick fanart of one of my favorite BZPRPG character, trying out some new lighting techniques I've picked up. Nothing too fancy, had some fun with the lineart, even if the exact anatomy is probably a bit wonky upon closer inspection. Anyway, link to file here. As always, comments and critique welcome. :3
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