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  1. WARNING: This topic contains a lot of original material, even if it is fan-fiction, so it is legally protected by Creative Commons. Unlawful abduction of original material straight from this topic or similar writings by listed authors and project members is illegal. All rights go to their original authors and creators, only thing being claimed here is original material written by the individual that goes by the aliases Iaredios / RC15O5 / Kaiser_Quanah / Tahuzilla, and other authors that are members of the A Rude Awakening project. You have been warned. -----A BIONICLE STRATEGY GAME----- -----AND LORE EXPANSION PROJECT----- (Formerly known as BIONICLE Universalis) Still a Work In Progress! (Including the Topic) Background Hello, I am Iaredios! This is a topic for requesting help for an overhaul modification for the acclaimed Grand Strategy Games, Europa Universalis IV and Crusader Kings II. Now, here are things that I am in need of: --- A Few Graphic Artists, mainly for loading screens and a world map; also flags. Loading screens show important characters (Tahu, un-mutated Pridak, etc.), scenery, marching troops, and battles between armies (Skakdi v. Aternea, Element Lords v. Barraki, and the like), and other things; about 15 or less would be needed. I already have one and am currently working on another. I have already designed some flags, but I could use some assistance with others. The world map. As I am the main developer of this mod, I have decided to take it upon myself to create the world map. I will update my progress as I go. ---Musicians, I need unique music and/or some Nathan Furst BIONICLE-styled music to fit a grand strategy game. 15-20 songs (5-15 minutes each) would be nice for the soundtrack. As this is being done completely free, I am sure it would be okay to use a pre-existing song that you deem to fit BIONICLE, I will be sure to give credit in the read me file and credits (music companies, you have no need to sue me. ). Most of the songs need to be peaceful and non-intrusive, while some songs need to be "epic" but remain true to the atmosphere of the game and not be too distracting. I would recommend listening to the original soundtrack of Europa Universalis IV (and prepare to tune along to Andreas Waldetoft!). ---Coder, I am familiar enough with the game and could probably do this by myself, but a helper wouldn't hurt. This game is easy to mod, its just time excessive (just like the game itself. ). i will be seeking help from ParadoxPlaza when the need arises (and it will). --Discussioneers: I know that is not a real word, but I could some people to just generally talk to about the course/direction of this mod, mainly discussing each faction's flag design (and meaning), cultures, religion (or virtues/beliefs), and locations, as well as organization of history. Really, I would just like a couple of Watsons. --Modification Developers-- Head Developer: - Iaredios Graphic Artists: - Iaredios - Toa Imrukii - Monty Musicians: - Toa Vanson - Madu Cabolo Discussioneers: - scratchR Special thanks go to SPIRIT for letting me use his avatar as a flag, and -Windrider- and Bonesiii for being patient with my many questions and requests. You guys are awesome. . Song ideas and themes (to retain a Bionicle atmosphere, all songs must have at least some synthetic electronic tones, be it electronica, droning, etc. Battle tunes have to have some sort of soundtrack feel. Ask in topic if you have a question): - Nealite Agori use a mixture of Bulgarian, Byzantine, and some Near-Eastern inspiration. Irfan, Ante Diem, and City of the Fallen are good sources of examples, as well as some traditional Medieval Roman music (I have good examples so just ask). Element Lords and Great Beings fall under this. - Luhneahn Agori are primitive and their music should reflect that. Inspiration could be gained from Europa Barbarorum's barbarian music tracks. (And please for the love of God lets not do anything annoying) - Skrall and Jirapa have a European barbaric feel to them, while retaining an organized imperial feel. TES IV: Skyrim (especially with choir and drums) and Conan the Barbarian (1980's) are good examples. Ancient in atmosphere, but also timeless. - Ostonigosa [bone Hunters] draw inspiration from Eurasian Steppes and desert nomads. A mixture of ethnic tunes from these two regions would probably fit best. - Vorox could use like one song, being a mixture of tribal with old world desert tunes. - Matoran draw heavily on a mixture of Maori music, electronica, and modern classical/soundtrack styles. - Barraki is the same as Matoran except with a militaristic and imperial feel. - Makutine (Makuta Cult) is the same as Matoran except sounding more sinister and mysterious Song Teasers: - Neuropolis, by Toa Vanson - Neuropolis is what the agori call Metru Nui (it translates into Brain City). You can imagine Spherus Magna travelers going through the ruins of Metru Nui, or a Matoran remembering the City of Legends in it's glory before the Battle of Bara Magna. - Nealite Market, by Toa Vanson - Otherwise known as 'The Bard', this is a song fit for the daily hustle and bustle of forum or market square in the Greco-Near Eastern-inspired Agori of Greater Neala. - Song Of The Nomads, by N/A - This is a song for the Ostonigosa (or, Bone Hunters). it is a combination of two songs from the Rome: Total War modification, Europa Barbarorum. I must make this clear, I did not make this song, just put the two songs together since they are very alike. A revision of this song could be done to have a more Bionicle feel to it. - Makutine, by Toa Vanson - The theme for the evil cult based on Makuta Teridax, his prophet 'Turaga' Ahkmou. Pronounced as 'mah-koo-tee-nay', the name is of Nealite origin and is their linguistic variation of the word Makuta (obviously). The cult is made up of not only MU races but Spherus Magna races as well, as is reflected in the throat singing by present Ostonigosa culstists. - 'Matoran Battle Song', by Toa Vanson - An absolutely fantastic song with an unfinished name. The people of the Matoran Universe gather together in what appears to be a battle that will be remembered for all of time, and the very survival of the Matoran Universe races hangs in the balance. - 'ARA Electronics Demo', by Madu Cabolo - Great song test that has a very Bionicle-friendly atmosphere as it blends some world music with electronica. Fits the matoran race(s) very well. I would like it if this were extended. Loading Screens: http://tahuzilla.deviantart.com/art/Tserkoura-v-Anonna-497787769 http://tahuzilla.deviantart.com/art/A-Rude-Awakening-Barraki-War-Chamber-concept-art-527208215 Banners: (the top language is modern Agori; ancient Agori is close to that of the Matoran written language. My full alphabet can be found here) -- Great Being Civil War (shows a Great Being departing a space ship with others closely behind him/her, and Marendar approaching the landing ramp) -- Eternal War: Two groups of fluid spirit collectives, Protodermis/Avhagnu and Antidermis/Krahagnu, wage war upon each other across the void-remnant, their material corpses becoming either observable matter (stars, rocks, air, water, etc) or celestial monsters (Lovecraftian horrors). Waging for eons and used by Grunchar to create material things in Existence, the Eternal War between Light and Shadow continues today. The mass of darkness can be seen by the reflective light of the Avhagnu collective. Secret Spirit MAP UPDATE: http://www.brickshelf.com/gallery/Magnetro/A-Rude-Awakening/World-Map/revised_sm_-_small_4_october_2016.png ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ *****UPDATE*****: Modification development is currently on hiatus to develop lore and art. Sorry if this disappoints you*****
  2. Today is my good friend Iaredios' Birthday, so let's all wish him a good one! Happy Birthday Dude!
  3. I wrote this out of sudden inspiration in one night. Hope you all like it. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BLACK CORONATION A Rude Awakening tale A sizeable crowd stood before him. The man clad in blackened steel stood above his subjects-to-be in sheer height, helmet in absence. Though he was not of the size of a jirapa giant like ol’ Big Tuma, his belonging to the Elite caste of skrall still made him taller than non-Elites. He walked forward betwixt the crowds twain, they kneeling as he approached them. Skrall of both types, even male and female together, knelt in union before him, as did the agori servants of both Nealite breeds (small Kontes and tall Pisiles). He walked confidently without body guards: anyone that posed a serious threat had since been delivered to Greani Ateir in the next life, and even those that wished to challenge him he would welcome with open arms before their swift demise. None did so from either sheer fear or complete respect and allegiance. The only one accompanying him was a scared tall man of sand-blue color, even his height being down-played by the great presence before him. He was only here because his noteworthy skills in chronicling, his existence being a sign of taboo and making him the cause for many a hunt, in-turn causing the man to have paranoia; and now here he is in the wolves den. The truth of the matter is that he was nearby and was forcibly ‘convinced’ to come here as none of the skrall here could read or write, including their new lord. “Make him look good, scribbler”, he was commanded by his captors at blade-point before their arrival. And the chronicler did as prescribed, for his fate was completely in their hands. The bulky man of great prestige walked to the end of the aisle of sentients, where a great door laid shut. He took a deep breath, briefly glared out of the corner of his eyes to what he saw as an abomination before shutting his eyes, and exhaled, thence opening the heavy doors with ease. More people were inside the long building, the genders playing different parts. The women, who all wore hooded robes, stood silent with their heads down and kept them as such until the man of the hour walked past them; the men were all garbed in gears and arms of war, they all bracing their shields and their swords or axes. Everyone said his name thrice, “Stronan, Stronan, Stronan!” With the men having melted to the back of the crowds, the women proceeded to throw violet-blue flower pedals high into the air into the middle aisle as the black-clad champion and the unwanted guest passed by, whilst the men behind the women began to stomp their feet, bang their sword or axe onto their maze-decorated shields, and exhale short howls, this beat of noises slowly getting louder. Even outside, the rhythmic uproar could be heard. Stronan, or Stronius as the Nealites flavored his name, walked with his scarred red-pink face proud, his bearded chin tastefully lifted, and his hairless lips slightly smirking to one corner, conveniently the end away from his scribbler. He finally stopped a few cubits from the stairs, and his only living suitable rival, the champion Branar, approached with a sharp, gold pointed crown of emerald and onyx decor in his hands. Stronan knelt before his scared-strait servile swordsman, causing the whole of the area to mute in complete silence, and Branar carefully placed the jagged crown upon the warlord’s head. When this happened, the chronicler removed himself from the scene, placing himself near it at the front-most of the crowd. The crowned Elite looked up past his new champion, and looked at his throne, cut from black rock in the likeliness of their former-homeland of the now-destroyed Black Spike Mountains. It was decorated with the carvings of the unique torso maze patterns of his dead rivals, symbolically ruling atop their corpses, and many empty patches had been left there for future generations to etch on if they were to conquer similar foes. The throne had pillows installed into it and it was carved in a way to be most comfortable, no-doubt having been in the works for years. His eyes then looked past his throne, and focused on the symbolic stained glass shipped straight from Vulkanus. It contained white cupped hands pressed together at their sides, the symbol for Grunchar the Primordial Potter, displaying his gift to the world, the ancient green Skrall hero and saint, Greani Atier. Greani stood there, helmed shirtless with a mail sleeve and skirt, both hands touching another in their grasp of the lost holy sword, the Arm of Grunchar. Atop Greani’s helmet was a crown, exactly like that of Stronan’s, which made the veteran warrior smile. As Stronius stood up, Branar symbolically knelt before him and bowed his head. Stronan climbed the low staircase, turned around, and with everyone’s eyes glazed at him, sat down upon his throne. At that moment, Branar yelled while still kneeling and closed his eyes, “All of Spherus Magna behold, the King of the Skrall, king Stronan the Strong!” Horns blared thence and the building became alit with rekindled noise, the uproar becoming deafening. The chronicler was obviously displeased with the noise volume, who rolled up what little he had writ up his armpit and plugged his ears with futile fingers, as did follow some of the agori. Stronius raised a single hand, and the place soon died in decibel once more. He spake thus in his deep voice of power, “Branar, arise!”. The man did as such. “Your business with the crown is not finished. Fulfill what you swore, or become of my decor”. In agreement, Branar removed his glove to reveal a scarred hand, and then sliced his thumb up one of the sharp spikes of the crown, blood trailing down the crown and even onto the king’s stolid face. His life by sign of lifeblood was now tied to the crown of the King. A kontes agori slave brought out a cup of Tesarite wine for Branar to put his wound in, which he did as soon as he got out of the way. Stronius then stood from his seat, yelling to all: “What has been achieved here today, is that which has not been achieved in an age. No longer will we Skrall bow to anyone. Our Jirapa giant overlords see their end over the horizon, and the Nealites to the south who have disgraced our honor before by means of Mata Nui now cower before the likes of too many an enemy. The ancient Spirit of the Mountains has returned from under his hiding rock and seeks to enslave us once again. Anyone who is caught seeking to join this false-god will meet their end by my hands. Anyone in-general who crosses me will meet their demise by my grasp, is this understood?” He walked over to the slave that brought Branar the medicinal drink and slew him horribly with his bare hands and sheer strength to serve as an example with a stomping finish, which with that some in the crowd slowly began to stomp in rhythm. Gazing at the pieces and whipping his hand down a few times to get some of the liquid off he looked at the crowd, and said, “You will all then come to find mercy in death by my mighty club and serpent saber if there be even a whiff of transgression, as they are but my instruments and not of my body, my being”. The chronicler was awestruck in fear and disgust by what he had just witnessed, and threw up in his mouth at the realization of what he sees now and that he has been touched upon by carcass's crimson spray. The king turned to him briefly with a japing face of disbelief at how 'weak' the historian hybrid reacted, then back to the crowd. Already the men were beginning to rise in their pounding noise of praise; the younger women were whooping with excitement, while the conquered remnants of the now-powerless, elderly Sisters of the Skrall were merely clapping. The men were chanting in a scary, barbaric rhythm while horns were blown to the beat. Stronius grabbed the cup of bloody wine from Branar and filled his mouth with it. He swished the funny liquid around and then orally poured the wine onto his hands, thence wiping the mess onto a given towel. The towel was thrown at another slave, whom the king then tasked with also feeding the bodily remnants on the floor to a spikkit. Sitting upon his new throne now, Stronan began moving his head to the rhythmic dark uproar of savagery with a closed smile. Later that night, noises of a festival from inside the great hall could be heard from the chronicler’s prison as the preserved heads of the lord's former-rivals were delivered beyond the big doors upon pillows one by one. Apparently, Stronius saw further use of the poor blue man, which meant nothing good. While writing of the events that transpired that day, the man was visited by Branar, the new champion of the fresh king crowned. “Here, I believe I am done. Is it fitting, my lord?” Branar took it from the chronicler’s hands and read it. “Hmm, it is good. ...Too good“, the skrall smirked, “I heard that you enjoyed truth.” “I do sir, but this court has forced my hand”, he replied. "if it is of any consolation, I was planning to write words of accuracy once I was released, but now that doesn't seem to be the case...". “Only by their claw's reach”, Branar began, then opening the gate, “Go now, and spread the truth of this animal despite his wishes, beyond said thing's grasp. These people have replaced a monster with a monster, and thus are fools; and by Greani’s example, all monsters of darkness must perish. Stronan’s day of felling will come, and only then do I want you to return: only upon this I will tell you everything. In the meantime, I am forced to stay here, leashed. There is a rock steed waiting for you outside the prison, and the guards here will not be a problem for you, trust me. Oh, and you'll be needing this, wont you?", the standard skrall of pale-pink pigment spake, holding the hybrid's tattered brown hooded robe, then throwing it at the up penman. "Good bye, Iaredios”. The chronicler said his farewells to the true king of the Skrall, not feeling like he got the full picture, and fled south. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Edited for better wording.
  4. Everybody wish my pal Iaredios a gand Ol' Happy Birthday, for today is the day. I hope you're doing well visiting family in Illinois my great friend! And, I hope you get plenty of goods and sets!
  5. Hey guys. I have a Kanohi Ignika from Shapeways coming in today and I plan to paint it. Anyone have tips for a first timer? I figure that like with any kind of painting, you have layers. So I'll start with black because I want it to have a older feel. But I also want to make it unearthly: old, yet there is a strange energy emitting from it to show that it is mystical and alive. How would i go about capturing that? I've been wanting to get Warhammer 40k figures and I have noticed that they have great paint selections. Would Citadel paints be compatible with Bionicle sets and it's type of plastic (as opposed to the material it's supposed to be used on, W40K figures)?
  6. Over the past year I have made a lot of banners, so I thought I'd drop several of them and see if anyone here likes them. unless I say otherwise, i did not make these from scratch, just flex my GIMP skills. Behold! Comics: Darkseid vs Superman Magneto Simplistic Aquaman King and Queen of the Trench (huge one in the back) Aquaman can actually be seen in the far left corner. Aquaman and Black Manta Dream, Eternal of Imagination and King of Dreamworld History: Colossus of Megas Konstantine Lawlz Dem Mongols At The Walls (Theodosian Walls of Konstantinopolis) Hundred Years' War Remember the Sign(s) Sci-Fi and Fantasy: Tri-Generational Star Wars Flags In in-story chronological order of creation. Same as the previous but with a canvas filter. Same as the first but with individual flag ripples and shading. Elder Scrolls stuff. Other: Funny picture of Sonic the Hedgehog with a fitting caption. Older: 2012 USA Presidential Election joke-banner. I should update this. From Tim and Eric's Awesome Show, Great Job. A whole Rahkshi head folder. Anyone remember this dinosaur? It's from the days of the McThornax, and my Bula King burger franchise was it's rival (though it was never that popular, people forgot about the bula berries from Mata-Nui. I want to clarify that this is an old banner, probably from 2009, and thus was created before the terrible news concerning Bill Cosby became general public knowledge. I find it funny how this joke about making a very nice person into an evil one kind of came true. I'm going to head to bed now. I'll look out for more later. Hope guys enjoy at least one banner.
  7. Well howdy-ho my fellow Beezeepeeyites, me-me imma has a question for the lot of ya! So I was reading up on the Ye Olde Hochmeister, and I noticed that a whole plot for him was being developed, him attaining Teridax's god-felling virus, his alliance with the Barraki, and his mustering of forces both new and old to his ranks in preparation for.... for what? Does anyone have any ideas about what was to happen? I feel like we should write this up on a piece of paper, fold it into a paper airplane, and chuck it at Old Man Greg (hopefully his glasses will help avoid an embarrassing blinding accident). I personally want to know, as it would be make my project easier. Likewise, does anyone want to know The Shadowed One's name? It wouldn't affect the story, just another little tidbit of info. Again, we could chuck a paper airplane at our bearded 'canonizer' ("OUCH! W--What the..?!! Where do these keep coming from?!" *camera then focuses on eyes peepin' over a wall in the distance while he/she is fanatically gasping and shivering*) As but another white guy movie reviewer says a tonne of times, "comment below, n' let me know!".
  8. Hello posters-to-be and lurkers alike, the following art is some old stuff that I made. These are just concepts, not finished art but ideas pertaining things that were never shown in the BIONICLE I grew up with. Artakha's Mask of Creation Marendar Random Great Being I hope you like what you see. If I find or make anymore, I will be sure to post it here (unless the topic has died by then).
  9. Hello! Some of my ideas here are already being shared in this topic, but has not been updated because I am currently heavily revising it. Thank you for your time, and i hope you like what you see. Tserkoura v Annona I have been working on a Bionicle mod for Europa Universalis IV that takes place around 200 years after the Battle of Bara Magna, and this is to serve as one of many loading screens. It is supposed to be a wall painting of the Golden-Skinned Skakdi Fusion (whom I have named here 'Tserkoura', or 'Surkoura' in Matoran) opposite of the dream eating monster Annona in a museum of history in New Atero, probably near the new Kini Nui. The Agori would call it the 'Temple of the Guardian', named as such as Mata Nui symbolically watches over the city; they do not worship their, as the Matoran do, they instead see it as a museum for Mata Nui and worship at the Chapel of Grunchar, their supreme diety-creator. It says, in both Agori/Greek and Matoran/Maori: DUEL OF DREAM GODS/LORDS SURKOURA/TSERKOURA ANNONA I am currently making another piece of art similar to this, depicting the Battle of Bara Magna (I so far like this one more. ). I am almost done with it, but due to my infrequent internet connection for my laptop, I might not be able to upload it right away. Agori Alphabet I always wanted the Agori to have their own alphabet, but it seemed that Lego did not bother to do it before announcing their rescheduled cancellation for Bionicle. Now, since then, I have waited for others to make a written language, but it never happened, so I took it upon myself to do just that. A lot of the letters may look like another because they share a similar sound when spoken, and I took out the letters X and Q because those same sounds could be created with a combination of the given letters, and added the CH, ZH, and TH sounds because they are more unique. I expected the Agori and their heightful bretheren to have spoken Byzantine Greek, meaning Greek with a lot of Latin influence. Half of the characters are taken from this picture here: Mata Nui in Space You can also go to my DeviantArt page to comment there if you like. Replies, comments and criticism would be much appreciated. Thank you for looking at my stuff.
  10. Hello y'all. First off, I am pretty sure some of you have seen my name and scratched thine temples briefly while trying to say my name. Well, school is in session boys and girls! Now class, say it with me: Eah-red-ee-os, or E-R-ed-ee-os. Its an attempted faux-hellenization of the name Jared. Hoped that helped. Now class, its time for Show n' Tell! What I have are flags for a game called Europa Universalis. I have begun multiple projects for this game, such as uniting Ireland as Tyrone to create the dark age High Kingdom of Ireland, and add music to some countries. Anyway, after making several flags, I thought I could put my newfound skills to making some flags for post-Battle of Bara Magna Spherus Magna, based personal ideas I have been toying around with in some storyline drafts for an Epic. Now, without further ado, here you go. League of Four Kingdoms, aka Barraki Empire. (Barakoi Basiliton in Agori) Takadokala (Takadoxia in Agori) New Zakaz (Skuktoi Basiliton in Agori) Post more later today.
  11. Greetings fellow mortals. I have been MOCing more frequently, and I wanted to MOC/revamp a Toa. Alas, I could not pick one. So, I decided that you will all be my guinea pigs for both my personal service, and a public survey that will likely hold your attention for less than five minutes. Lets get started, shall we!? As the topic title gave away (unless you like to click random things and are adventurous), what is your favorite G1 Toa (as a character, not set design)? Obviously, it is hard to pick one, so just pick your top 6 (your dream Toa Team if you'd like). You can explain your reasons why if you like, but if you suffer the curse of sloth as I do, then its okay if you just write it like so (Latin Numerals were done to add flavor, you can do numerals in Korean for all I care): I. Jaller II. Vakama III. Kopaka IV. Pohatu V. Takua VI. Lhikan
  12. This is a story I have been fiddling with, a personal, partial-revision of Bionicle and continuation. It uses a lot of Latin and Greek inspired words, so put your accent hat on. Please, if you enjoy it, see a possible edit, or want to discuss someting, please go here. Thank you, enjoy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Ackariad Chapter I In the Time Before Time, a helm crash landed on Paradise. The soul trapped in this life-controlling artifact materialized a body and united the peoples of Paradise and battled a great battle against his usurper, The Shadow. Victorious, the Exiled healed the war-torn wastelands of Paradise, and since then has watched over the united peoples, his people from his domain and those native to Paradise. Centuries passed and wars have lit and died, but in a search for his past, a particular mortal soul will uncover secrets that will greatly disturb this era of prosperity. The night was nigh and the sun began to set over the mountains and ruins as the stars beyond yawned in their renewed blinking. As the yellows and purples of the skies waned and darkness rose, a hooded elder aged 58 years rode down a rocky road, with a design akin to that of our Romans, upon a brown and red bipedal armored reptile with a shortened tail. This is a road he has traveled many times, even if it had gone under different appearances in the past as its scars showed. He rode past what few travelers remained at dusk, most heading the same direction: down a long road and eventually up a large nearby mountain. The togas of the travelers flopped about when the rider zipped by upon his steed, some getting spooked to such a degree that they fell and gotten dirt on their clothes, curses shot once their bums slammed onto the rock. After a few minutes, the man reached the base of the mountain and the beginning of the new steep road. While the beast rested, the hooded rider looked at the steps, memories of stories told to him flushing over him. He pushed these thoughts away and smiled at what awaited him at the end of this road. Home... After the beast had its moments rest from all the running, the older man swayed his rope in the direction he wished, and so it went, thence going forward by command. Up the steep road they went. Much to the dismay of this currently impatient man, the two had to walk lest he and his steed succumbed to gravity’s spell. After the lengthy hike was done and the sound of rushing water could be heard in the distance, the sun had been set for some time. In place of the light of Solis Magna, the man brought out his badge office, a relic of the previous era, and his arm of choice: the Flame Sword of Ackar the Great, or as these Byzantine natives said it, Ackarios [ey-car-ee-os] Magnus, passed down to him through time through his great-great-grandfather, a legendary hero of might, of whom this sabre is named after. Once drawn, the will of the set user sparked a great flame to erupt out of the great sword and surround it. Since sundown the blade had been the man’s makeshift torch. A guard greeted the man, interrogating him while the man sat upon his steed and waited for the guard to finish his ramblings and notice certain somethings. After the grumpy guard finished after two minutes of useless rambled questioning, all that time the man just smiled and stared at him, the guard noticed both his shiny badge, and the big, quite obvious sword that was aflame. “Are you done yet Felkos?” Said the man as he removed his hood, revealing a bright red skinned man with a human appearance, being somewhat wrinkled and having short white hair. “Oh, I am so sorry! Pardon me sir Proekelarios Trepolios Ackarios [Leader Trepoli Ackar] sir!” “Settle down guard Felkos, we go through this every time I journey yonder Ateros Nova’s [New Atero] borders. If I had been another man, you would be without a job by now, or if I were a Skrallos, without a head—Ha ha ha! …Please, do open the gate, it is late.” Trepolios said in a friendly fashion. “Yes sir Toaii sir!” panicked the guard. Trepolios rolled his eyes at the forgetful old man as the large reinforced metallic gates opened. The man sheathed his sword once on the other side and went out to fast-walk home upon his ride. Not to hurt the man’s feelings, but I’ve got to fire him as soon as possible, he’s a security risk. I just have to find the right person to replace him... The guard Felkos’ memory began to fade and he wondered where the animal footprints came from and why it was so hot that late at night. Panicking that he accidently let someone through, he swiped clean the footprints with his spear and foot. Thence he smiled confidently and set in a posh attitude, standing at the gate like a statue as he congratulated himself for his stark cleverness. Trepolios finally arrived home, a small house fit for three made of brick, concrete, and raw artificial protodermis, the ‘Stranger’s Stuff’ as the natives called it. The man roped up his steed in its stable and grabbed a large, sealed clay vase, thence invertebrates being dumped in a deep tub for the reptile from said container, and it ate ravenously after the long trip. Trepolios opened the decorated reinforced door with a key, and came into his house. After dropping what little luggage he had onto the floor, he called out for someone. “Sullixios [sullix], I’m back!” Trepolios yelled. Suddenly, a blue skinned 30-something year old man with black hair and a small goatee walked out and opened his arms. “Dad! I missed you old man!” The man’s son jokingly said. More of that followed: “If I wasn’t so pooped out, I’d kick thine arse right ‘bout now!” “Tah-ha-ha, I’d like to see you try!” The two continued as they hugged a great hug. Together the two sat at a wooden table. “I apologize Dad, but I forgot where you went. Mind refreshing my memory a tad?” Sullixios asked. “You mind is weaker then Felkos’! Ha ha! I swear, with each generation you youngsters keep getting more and more used to the Matoranche’s [Ma-to-rahn-chey, Matoran] technology, I tell you what; them and their moving spears, fancy masks and mouth-hands. I mainly stick to the Agoriae Ypsili [Tall Agori] way” “Isn’t that kind of derogatory of the sorts Dad?” “Not if you are only having fun with both it--and them--and you are not serious about that kind of stuff, just remember not to say it in front of them, they won’t get it.” Sullixios grinned and rolled his eyes, then listened attentively. “Anyway, you wanted to know where I was. Well, I had made a pilgrimage to our tribe’s ancestral homeland, Vulcanus. From what I remember of both the scroll drawings and the Matoranche’s digital archives, it appears to have changed little, except for the obvious small battle scars from the attempted Ostonigosa [bone Hunter] sackings. You would think they would abandon such barbarism after the Melding. The old market still has some people, silly people; and the arena was amazing, I wonder what it would have been like to see one of those fights. And I also got to see the original dwelling of our ancestor Ackarios Magnus; you could feel the history there with all the shields and swords and trophies still mounted there. Oh I wish you could have come, if only you were not so preoccupied. By the way, I came home as soon as I could, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world! Do you know when she is due?” Sullixios said “In a couple of weeks, although you know healers, they can’t accurately predict such things. Might as well be any day now.” Trepolios smiled, “I can’t believe my own son is going to be a… a father. And I am going to be the first Ackarii since Ackarios himself to live to see a grandchild.” “Why is that Dad?” “Well,” Trepolios then yawned, “My great-grandfather, your great-great-grandfather, Matthias Ackarios, died defending Ateros Nova from the Basiliton ton Barakoi [barraki], warlords from the Metal Realm, the Matoranche homeland. My grandfather, your great-grandfather, Konstoros Ackarios [Konstor Ackar], was assassinated while visiting the shrine, or ‘sue-vah’, of our Guardian Matthias Nuianus [Mata Nui] by members of a cult called the Followers of Makutine [May-koo-tee-nay, Makuta]. Thankfully the head master of the Order of the Temple of the Guradian, Toaii Takua stopped the cultists; no doubt the sight of his supreme god Magnus Pnevma boosted his morale.” Trepolios explained, yawned, then continued, “My father, your grandfather, Saiphalios Ackarios fought in the Battle of Terandar Coast when the Skuktoi Basilios [skakdi Emperor], who is golden skinned with the face of a dragon and built like a mythic hero of old, launched an invasion into our land after a successful war against the Skrallos Empire. The Federal Alliance of Ateros Nova learned of the Golden Basilios’ plans and we met him in battle on Terandar Coast which is as mud brown as the slope that hugs close to its sea. Saiphalios defeat many a Skuktoi, those demons, with the aide of the gallant Toaii Jalianus Inika-Mahrianus [Jaller]. But, after the great battle, Saiphalios had sustained great injuries that not even the renowned warrior-healer Toaii Galia could help him.” Sullixios was, for the first time, fascinated by his family’s history. Before he had simply heard of some of the some of the tales of his family and took all else for granted, and even though his blood was not that of his father’s, he could still feel the pride flow through him. As late as it is in his life to begin these feelings, his familiar ignorance was beginning to melt away. Trepolios was the leader of the Spherus Magna natives in New Atero, but that has not made him a different person, nor has it affected the way the way he has raised his child. If it wasn’t for all the special governmental proceedings and grand events, Trepolis and Sullixios would have appeared to live just like any other family, ignoring the proximity to the Temple of the Guardian. Despite this, Trepolios’ growing age began to show to both his son and his people. Sullixios had a child coming soon and he began to feel responsibility upon his shoulders, as his acquaintance with history didn’t help with the slowly growing pressure. He wished to ask his father a question, a question his father had been waiting for since Sullixios came of age. “Look, I am weary after my travels, I’ll see thou tomorrow, aye?” Trepolios said after beginning to mention some of his stuff, Rahkshi encounters and whatnot. “Sure Dad, I’m tired too. See you then, and good night and sweet dreams.” Sullixios said. He understood but was slightly disappointed. He visited his sleeping wife Vira, placing his hand on her enlarged tummy and feeling the life that he helped spawn as his heart warmed and a smile grew. Sullixios’ eyes grew heavy, thus he entered sleepy bliss with the gentle smell of vanilla perfume filling his nostrils. The next day, Sullixios awoke to the smell of fried fish and eggs, and bards faintly Agori lyres and Matoran drums playing outside, all accompanied by the sounds of wind chimes. He walked out lazily and smiled to see his father making breakfast and his wife writing alternative history stories on a scroll. Her and her stories… hehe… Some of them are interesting though, just wish there would be less lovey dovey crud in it “Is that green pepper and onion I also smell in there?” Sullixios asked. “You know it my boy, just how you like it.” His father replied. Sullixios was going to ask if Vira had some, but the empty plate answered his question. He asked if she enjoyed her breakfast and she happily replied positively, and then continued writing only after smiling at him lovingly. The meal was eaten and day-to-day chatter began. Finally getting up to take a walk, the two lovers hugged and kissed each other, thence going outside. After all this time however, a thought stayed with Sullixios: He knew of his father’s age, and his hard life of war had made it certain his time was near. He needed to prepare himself for his upcoming time of ascension. They walked around the half-pyrimid-like structure that was the Temple of Guardian, Mata Nui, seeing the mixture of tribal-robotic art and antique architecture and the six spires that surrounded the building, seeing the living embodiments of the two cultures living and playing peacefully with one other, and smelling the essences and spices from lands far away from New Atero. Sullixios and Vira were once more at home. After settling down, Sullixios approached his father, who was sitting down reading Vira’s literature. “…Okay, skip all of that… and that… ah, here we go. Hey Vira, you have a child coming in; can you tone down your scrolls? Set thine mind for kid friendliness? Thanks.” “Oh you’re a bore!” She loudly replied to Trepolios. “Hey honey, there is a play out in the amphitheater, the Matoranche are performing the story of Toaii Takua’s adventures on that Island a lot of those Toaii talk about. Who knows, it might even provide some source material for your stories.” Sullixios said. “That sounds interesting, I think I might actually go, thanks Sullixios!” His wife said, and thus went outside, the amphitheater not far away. That was the only reason he did not go help his bearing wife. “…Pshh, Matthius Magnus did not do with Toaii Kiina, sorry, Glatorianus Kiina. What’s wrong with that woman?!” Trepolios loudly commented before continuing his reading, but as he started again his son interrupted. “Father we need to talk.” Trepolios put down a sticky sliver of colored paper to mark his place in the scroll, rolled it up carefully then set it down. “Yes Sullixios?” “I mean not to offend you, but what you said yesterday, about you becoming a grandparent, made me realize your age.” Trepolios raised an eyebrow and Sullixios began to smile a slight smile that faded as the discussion went on, “Ignore my mouth Dad, I am being serious. I realize that I have not that big on history, but if I am to succeed you in the future, I need to the history of this city, my family, and that of The Guardian, that knight who watches this city. Only after this, can you teach me the ways of Dimiorgós Enór [One Creator], the blade and its forms, and the way of your office.” “Despite your academic ignorance, unlike your wife whom knows too much for her own good, you retain some of the wisdom of Ackarios Magnos. First, we must go somewhere more appropriate. Follow me.” Trepolios said in his gravely, wine stained voice. Sullixios left a note for Vira when her play was done, and it detailed where he was. But Sullixios did not know that she too would be busy for quite some time. The clouds filled the heavens above, being large in number but not being heavy. The sky was lit with a light yellow glow, the light from Solis Magna outlining many of the clouds. The Ackarii stepped outside of their house, Trepolios locking it behind him. The two walked around the houses, they being the homes of the descendants of the Toaii Glatorianus from 200 years ago and the Toa Nuva. As they approached the large staircase that led to the entrance of the Temple of the Guardian, there were many Matoran and other Toa walking out of the temple. Some of the Matoran tried to fit in more with the natives, and wore toga robes, most did not however. That brought to attention that Trepolios’ robes were not exactly thoroughly clean and were spotted with small holes every now and then, but the man could care less. After the Matoran group had passed, the Ackarii went up the large staircase, with which every other step was made of marble, the other of decorated protodermis. “We people of the Planet use this building as a way to honor this hero, while the Matoran use it as a place to both honor and worship their god, the one we deem as our Guardian.” Trepolios said as the climbed the stairs. Reaching the end, Sullixios saw that though the outside had a pyramid-like shape, the ceiling was like that of a dome, with many a carving covering the domes surface. A hexagonal hole was present in the center of the temple, which was fitted with a special glass that absorbed light from the sky, no matter how little there was, and magnified it to shine down into the epicenter of the entire city: the Mask of Life. The helm lied on a decorated stone pillar. On the ground surrounding this golden artifact was a ringed reflecting pool that looped around the said stone pillar and that shone the light from the sky back through the hole in the ceiling, creating the illusion of a shield of solid light protecting the dusty mask, the bright light allowing little dust particles to be seen floating slowly around and about. The rest of the temple would it not have been lit if it weren’t for the primitive light bulbs powered by clay pots full of citrus juice and copper wiring, which were mounted in spaces between the large carvings on the surrounding walls. Most of the walls said the same thing twice, once in Matoran and the other in Agori below the Matoran text, but they shared one picture for each history told. Behind the Mask of Life the wall there was specifically for the life of the Gaurdian, his godly body shown in carvings and a great battle being a numbing backdrop for the artifact. Matoran temple keepers were over there caring for walls to make sure that the walls did not fall into disrepair; while any Matoran can be a temple keeper, most were that of the tribe of Light, Takua being the grand master for this holy order. The two began to walk over there as Trepolios walked and the temple keepers got up to go attend other duties. Sullixios noticed the distinct tattoo markings on their masks and natural plating, they being white or dull gold (depending on what goes with the existing base color) and tribal in nature but had small scarabs and man-shaped figures every now and then with small shapes and figures being filled with detailed marks and other shapes; they all also wore swords that were akin to the one that their god used when he walked as a mortal and wore a yellow sash that hung to a shoulder and looped over the waist, with a looping black square pattern and in the middle of the semi-squares was a Matoran letter that Sullixios could not understand. Sullixios shook his head away from the decorated warrior monks and drew his attention to his father. “Written here are the summaries of all of known history of both the Metal Realm [Matoran Universe] and the Guradian’s time on Spherus Magna up until the end of the previous historical age, the slaying of the Malevolence, The Makutine, named Teridaxios (or Terikala by his fellow demons before he killed most them all; and the Melding of our great planet, which had been shattered into pieces 10,000 years ago by those lich kings called ‘The Stoicheió̱i’ [Element Lords], who held control over every living sentient on our planet. I called them lich king not because they hold undead armies like those fantasy stories you like to read Sullixios, but because their flesh has begun to rot while they are kept alive by the sheer power that surges through there armor and makes them one with nature. We await those devils are slain, and we can finally move on, but some Agorios seek to see their specific tribe gain dominance and fled to join their individual ranks in those kingdoms north of the White Mountains.” Trepolios was explaining. Trepolios paused and stood up right, the following words climbing in both decibel volume and intensity. “But we came here first and foremost for the Epic of the Guradian: The Child of the Great Beings, the Supreme Deity of the Matoranche, the Visitor of Far-Away Worlds, the Redeemed Exile, the Hero of the Agorios, the Slayer of The Shadow, the Savior of Spherus Magna, the Healer of the Cursed [Mutated], the Guardian of Ateros Nova, the Magnus Pnevma Matthias Nuianus [Great Spirit Mata Nui]!” He stood up with his arms in the air as his voice loudly echoed the otherwise quiet chamber. Temple Keepers glanced at the noise source as Trepolios drank some water in preparation and Sullixios made himself comfortable for what he knew was going to be a weeks-worth of storytelling, and he could not wait.
  13. I am not sure if this is the right place to put this, but... Do you think Lego should release all the Bionicle books & story serials (etc) of a given year/story arch (depends on how many were released for that said time period) in honor of Bionicle's return in 2015? We can talk about that in specific details. Also, would it be economical (would they sell)? Would you buy said new novels, even if you already have the individual books already? If new novels were to be released, I would think it wise to list the books as volumes. What do you think?
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