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It was not a happy time in Ko-Koro. Not that there were ever many happy times in a village of esoteric recluses led by a Turaga who didn’t even speak English, but they still had their moments. This was not one of those moments. In spite of his most persuasive protests that his distinctive sand blue coloration had destined him for a noble life spent accruing sage, arcane wisdom, Kopeke had been assigned menial guard duty on the North March in light of a series of recent Rahi raids. The raids had damaged a guard outpost and left several indistinguishable Ta-Koronan guards missing, a turn of events about which the Turaga had not been particularly concerned. What was worse, Kopeke had been assigned guard duty alone! Not that he didn’t prefer doing things alone; all Ko-Koronans save the convivial guards Talvi and Pakastaa did. But if there was one thing most Ko-Koronans preferred not to do alone, it was getting mauled by Rahi. What was even more incredible was the fact that his duty hadn’t even been ordered normally by Turaga Nuju; in wayward Matoro’s exuberant Rahi-hunting absence, Jaa, the Sanctum’s chief loafer resident, had halfheartedly attempted to decipher a Turaga’s weekly agenda that was as garbled as it was sparse. Other orders had apparently been for Talvi to go to Onu-Koro to buy a snow plow and for Jaa to take a paid vacation. It was against this unhappy backdrop that a grim Kopeke now found himself hunched over a small heatstone in a cramped guard hut on the North March. He had already lost track of the time; all he knew was that every time he had tried to return to Ko-Koro, a distraught Pakastaa had reluctantly reminded him that his orders had been given, however garbled. So much for his plan of taking Talvi’s job; that party animal still hadn’t even returned with a new snow plow. As he huddled by the small light, he tried to remember the Ko-Wahi Rahi manifest that Matoro had once all-too-eagerly rattled off for him; Muaka, Ice Tarakava, and… something-Jaga? All he remembered was the second half of that last one, but he also remembered its most distinctive feature: Its twin light blue Kanohi Pakari. Those Jagas hadn’t been seen in Ko-Wahi for years; their recent appearance was indeed a harbinger of dark times, dark times in a village whose primary color was white. This perhaps made the dark times even darker. Although not really less colorful. But now there was a sudden noise; creaking, thumping. Kopeke sprang up. Something was coming. Disc in hand (although recently-honed knowledge of how to use it not really in head), he jumped out from the hut, turning wildly in search of his foe. But he had only to glimpse the gargantuan yellow head of a Muaka before dropping his erstwhile weapon and opting to flee. Kopeke ran. He heard roaring and crashing behind him as the Muaka lurched on and snowbanks collapsed in its wake. A fine job Matoro had done hunting these things! As he turned a corner, he glanced back to watch in dread as the beast, which had clearly gained ground, began to head right for him. Its jaws were agape; it was frighteningly close. Kopeke skidded and stopped, horrified. He regretted never visiting the Kini-Nui. Also, never talking to that quiet Ga-Matoran he kind of liked. Also, talking to simpleminded Matoran so much. But even as he leapt in the air in a last attempt to defy the beast, something changed, and it slowly veered away, perhaps in pursuit of larger prey. But still Kopeke was doomed; with a mighty swing of its tail, the snow-tiger haphazardly felled the snow drift above him, knocking him down and bringing the world to darkness. *** When he came to, Kopeke found he was very cold. Not that this wasn’t a typical experience living on an icy mountain, but he was particularly, singularly cold. Bitingly cold. Only now – what was this? It was warming! But why? Why – Then it hit him, in a sudden, ice-cold flash: He was frozen. What was he going to do? Who would ever find him? And yet, even as he realized his peril, the unforgiving ice was beginning to lift. He could start to feel his hands, and his feet, and his… “…!” he cried. Before him stood the fabled mask of Ko-Koronan dread, the one that had not been seen for centuries… At the sight of a menacing light blue Pakari, the dazed Kopeke struggled wildly in his now fast-thawing prison, lurching and yearning to get free and flee. Everything was still so cold… But then, in a sudden blink, he was finally thawed, standing and shaking but waiting only long enough to note with certainty the Jaga’s blue Kanohi in front of him before turning to run. With the memory of the massive Muaka now quickly returning to him, this time he did not stop to turn around. He did not even stop to wonder what had so suddenly warmed his icy fate. Kopeke ran. *** At length, the cold, dismayed Matoran finally reached the secret village entrance located in the foot of an unassuming snowbank. Fumbling with the door, he at last managed to open it and rushed inside. Exhausted, he collapsed. Kopeke gasped for breath and looked fondly around the (relatively) cozy inner guard room. He couldn’t help but think to himself: I wonder when more help from those boastful hotheads down the mountain will ever come? They send Matoran, but they never think things through. It was probably their bright color schemes that attracted the original Rahi attacks in the first place… Oh well, I’m safe now. Whatever that was out there, I sure hope it doesn’t find its way to Ko-Koro; I’m sure it was dangerous and up to no good. He gave a wry smile at having escaped from such a deadly, unknown foe. And they had thought he wasn’t guard material! “…,” he snorted and muttered to himself.
Yes, folks. That's right. Let's travel back 10 years to the good ol' days of Bionicle. I give you what I think to be the first complete set of all six members of... THE CHRONICLER'S COMPANY Now, remember, a lot of these pieces were never made in the right colors. I did what I could with what was there, including tacking down a misprint red ruru for Kapura. I spent over $50 to make these guys, and I don't regret it. Individual pics:KapuraTamaruKopekeHafuTaipu Hope you enjoy!
Kopeke sighed heavily, and put the chisel down. It had been worn down until it was flattened. He tossed it towards another group of similar looking chisels. He stepped back to admire his work. A Wall of History, from the creation of the Mata Nui robot to the present day, a story that had taken Kopeke nearly ten years to compile. It had been long and arduous labor, often causing him to spur painful memories in some, and been thrown out of many houses. He had spent hundreds of widgets on dozens upon dozens of chisels, and even more on stone mined by the Onu-Matoran to build and expand on the wall. 10 years after peace had been made on Spherus Magna, Kopeke was finally finished recording their story. That's why he was the Chronicler, to write all the significant happenings. From Kodan, the first chronicler on Metru Nui, to Takua, and Hahli, all the way up to him, He wrote of the adventures and sacrifice of Jovan, the arrival of the Toa Mata, the transformation of Takanuva, the tales of Metru Nui, the perils of Voya Nui, and the beauty of Mahri Nui. To the final battle at Karda Nui, the exiling of Mata Nui. The stories of Bara Magna, and the restoration of Spherus Magna. Kopeke decided this story needed a name. However, even after all he done, he couldn't think of a name. He was at a loss for words. As he fought for the words, a warm hand rested on his shoulder. He turned, and Takanuva stood behind him. "Toa Takanuva," Kopeke said, "What an honor." "The honor is all mine, Chronicler," The white and gold Toa assured, "I see you've finished the Wall of History." "Yes," Kopeke started, "But every story needs a name, but I can't think of one." The Toa pondered for a second before saying, "Hmmm...Biological...I've got it! Bionicle." Kopeke nodded. "Bionicle. A fitting name, that only a former chronicler can come up with," Kopeke said with a grin. He grabbed his last new chisel, and carved into the wall. Then, he signed his name at the bottom. "Now, let us tell the Turaga. there will be a great celebration." Takanuva stopped and said, "When peace was established on Spherus Magna, most of my brethren became Turaga. I stayed a Toa so I could ensure that a Chronicler finished this history. Now, I can join my fellow Toa. Thank you, Kopeke. You have surpassed me as the greatest chronicler; the one who recorded the Biological Chronicle."