BZPRPG - Kini-Nui

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin

 

To watch the Abettor simply stand aside with the wave of Hakann's arm was close to a miracle.  However, the pint-sized matoran didn't have time for jealousy.  The Vault, and sucking the informational marrow out of Joske Nimil, awaited.  

 

"Someone around here gets it.  Echelon's not going to be happy learning about the delay." Ishi replied as he lowered his volo-lutu and crossed the floor.  It was a momentous achievement even if already done by a handful of searchers looking to make a pact with Zaktan.  How many passed seeking something other than power, though?  Ishi had bought power with his fingers and soul; the only thing he wanted now was knowledge.

 

On the far side was another hole in the floor, and this descended down through another crystal tunnel, echoing his breathing, winding around itself, until he stepped out into the half light of a large antechamber.  He stopped in his tracks at the doorway, doing his best not to let the appearance of almost a dozen rahkshi paralyze his mind with fear, or the swirling green concoction of an entity that controlled them.  Zaktan was fearsome.  His body buzzed like the static of a Po-Koro radio relay, and his red eyes flickered somewhere between disgust and disdain for the red and gold toa standing before him.  Ishi went to put his hands in the folds of his coat, but then remembered he wasn't wearing it.  The fireproof garment was still a damaged bundle on the back of his dikapi's saddle in a nearby tunnel.  Awkward.  

Piles of items littered the floor, making the room seem a maze from the top of the steps where Ishi stood.   Gold and masks glittered among techno-marvels that made the gear-head child in Ishi cry for a playdate; if only a date with dodging death wasn't calling his attention.  At the foot of the stairs was Joske, looking very much relieved by the additional seconds of life he'd been given, and squirming like a worm on the hook.  Ishi liked the idea of Nimil owing him.  He blinked, pointed at Joske, and laughed.

"By Karz Zaktan, do you know who this is?"  Ishi said, pulling on the plan formed while walking down the stairs with Hakann behind him, and now the fun of playing the game made his dark cheer genuine.  He let the question linger for a moment, fade a little in the room.  Zaktan seemed unsure how to answer, the swarm of his composition flickering faster.  "That's Dorian Shaddix you're talking to!  Oh, right, you're new here...  Where to begin?  Dorian is an mark bearer and got expelled from Ga-Koro with the rest of the group for damaging public property... After that the trail gets a little fuzzy, but he joined up with a group of paid killers and assassinated one of the six leaders of this island before Makuta was cast down.  In all he's a lovely criminal and hit man.  Can I keep him?  I'd love to drag his sorry ###### back to Echelon."

Edited September 14, 2014 by Kughii

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Kini-Nui Temple complex; interior

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

What the karzahni does that half-pint think he's-

 

Oh.

 

OH!

 

I just might survive this... my gamble paid off.  Kind of. Calling me Dorian was probably a stroke of small genius, the similarities in our appearances and styles somewhat-common knowledge, though our bodily colors couldn't be farther apart. However, I was going to guess THEY didn't know that is he was going to invoke that name... and when I mean they I mean ANOTHER Skakdi coming down the stairs after the informant. Not to mention if I got out of this mess I was sure the he was going to insist that I "owed him"...

 

I wasn't sure if I was better off before these turn of events or after.

 

The only thing I could do now was play along.

 

"I can't wait to see you try and spill the rest of the beans through your broken neck." I snarled, for the moment suspending my fear in favor of being ###### as a mother ash bear finding out her cubs were being messed with.... I allowed some more of that debonair come flowing back, trying to find my inner Dorian.

 

I only spent waaaaaaay too much time with the guy.

 

"Oh, well. No use crying over spilt ex-girlfriend tears. As thrilled I am to see your pretty face to lend me some cred, I'll be sure to let your boss know how easily you squeal."

 

I returned my gaze back to Zaktan, no doubt trying to piece together what had just transpired. Thinking like Dor I smiled, the side of my lips twitching, looking like I was trying to hide a smirk instead. "Well, that was unfortunate. A Matoran shows up and just like that, easy-peasy lemon-squeazy my cover's blown. Yeah, look, I may be a hit man, but I can assure you I didn't come to make a mark on this place, cross my heart and hope for celibacy. Especially after seeing these odds." I thumbed at the Rahkshi again, allowing a bit of that fear to return while using my other hand to motion over my heartlight. "As I said, I'm here to deliver something special, no questions, no comments. Just ask this big-mouthed loser. Careful, though. When you look into the abyss, the abyss might just blab out your entire biography." I glared at the Matoran once more, flaring my eyebrows and rolling my eyes at the same time, something I'd seen him do about a billion times. "You can even watch over my shoulder if you feel like getting that close but seriously, I was not expecting this... or you." I gave the shifting Skakdi another once-over, making sure to keep a proper distance away. "Just let me do my dig and I'll get out. This place is giving me the hibbie-jibbies anyways."

 

If Dor EVER finds out about this...

Edited September 14, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[Simulacrum]

OOC: Mistakes are nigh-constant. ;_;

 

-IC:-

 

As the diminutive informer begins to verbalise with apparently inveterate excess, I murmur a command to the remainder of my Rahkshi. The vehemence of their eyes betraying an incisive mentality, they compose themselves into a defensive position around my person, locomotion exact.

 

I stare at Zaktan momentarily, smile momentarily subsiding, and then move my gaze to the area of my entrance. The Toa and Matoran seem to be minor possible threats, well within Zaktan's capabilities. Reinforcements acquiried, I stride to the staircase's edge, pausing to listen intently on any signs of movement below.

 

OOC: That's a total of six Rahkshi now, three in the main chamber and three with Hakann.

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

Zaktan had hardly moved even through the commotion of the last few moments. As the newcomer Toa had refused to give his identity, as Zaktan had heard shouts from the Abettor's tunnel overhead, as Hakann had escorted the source of the shouts - a little Matoran, one of Echelon's - into the Vault, and as that same Matoran had revealed the Toa's - Dorian's - identity, the Piraka had continued to appraise the newcomer, watching keenly for subtle betrayals of body language, tone, and wording. Dorian still lied about something, and Zaktan could feel it, but not identify it. As was his wont, Zaktan processed the information that the situation, as well as his personal observations, had given him.

 

The Toa's name and profession, at least, were reasonable givens; they had been corroborated by an outside source, and the details that the Matoran had rattled off had rung bells for Zaktan. Though the name "Dorian" meant nothing alone to him, the deeds associated with it - the assassinations of the Turaga, the island's leaders before the Piraka's time - were familiar in Zaktan's understanding of the past of Mata Nuian history. This Toa was, then, Dorian, and an assassin.

Considering the amorality associated with slaying one of the beloved leaders of the Matoran people, Zaktan could safely eliminate the possibility he'd been entertaining earlier that this Dorian was a hero type. He certainly looked the part of hero - tall, handsome, nearly nauseatingly wholesome - but given Zaktan's experience with mercenaries and sell-swords, looks were oftentimes deceiving, and Zaktan rarely paid them heed. A Toa who had done what Dorian had done wouldn't likely be the sort that the Abettor would let into the Vault. That left the other of Zaktan's theories: Dorian was indeed a shady Toa, and he had been let into the Vault by either Hakann or Reidak on an assigned, as of yet unknown, mission.

 

Zaktan thought Hakann the most likely option given his current, even suspicious, proximity to the scene and his tendencies to scheme. Perhaps the yelling Matoran had been a plant, an excuse for Hakann to descend into the Vault at the same time as Dorian; but if he'd wanted to situate Dorian and himself in the Vault at the same time, why would he have seen the need to complicate the arrangement with the Matoran crier, rather than escorting the Toa inside himself? Perhaps Hakann might not have wished this Toa to appear an ally of his, for any number of reasons; if that was the case, if Dorian had come on Hakann's orders and the Matoran was an accomplice, that could destabilize even the given of the Toa's identity, returning Zaktan to square one.

 

He needed more information, and considering the likelihood of Hakann's involvement - a likelihood derived of uncertain conjecture, maybe; but, given the convoluted schemes Hakann had birthed in the past, uncertain conjecture was close enough to legitimate suspicion for Zaktan's tastes - Zaktan decided to remove him from the situation, first. "Hakann," he hissed. "Without your full complement of Rahkshi... I'm awed by your courage. Here, at home, you're brave enough to bring along three bodyguards instead of six."

 

"Three of my Rahkshi are outside," Hakann drawled. "I noticed somebody in the vicinity of our front door."

"Go and offer them our... hospitality," Zaktan sneered.

"Your wish is my command, oh insubstantial one," Hakann answered sardonically; Zaktan noted no telltale resentment or resistance in the words, but Hakann was a good liar. The red Piraka gestured to his three Rahkshi, leading them back up the Vault's inner stairs and through the hole in the ceiling, leaving Zaktan and his eight Sons of Makuta with the Toa and Matoran. The Matoran fell under Zaktan's scrutiny, first.

"You said," the Piraka leered, placing emphasis on the word as if to chide the Matoran for having shouted so close to his Vault, "that you have a message from Echelon. Give it to me."

Edited September 15, 2014 by Nuju Metru

[Franco]

IC:  Lantz is out.

 

“But I digress."

 

Leah and Reordin are ahead.

 

"You wish to relay a message?"

 

The voice coming up is Hakann.

 

"By all means, enter.”

 

I could turn back and save Lantz or go on for Joske and one Piraka.

 

Let's consider. There's no defined danger behind us. The other way is Hakann, "Zaktan," "Ahkmou," the Abettor, Joske, and Leah and Reordin.

 

We can team up and find out what's happening.

 

Let's.

 

I move on and pull up my map of the chamber. Leah and Reordin are by a tunnel in, unmoving, probably hiding; if Hakann's anywhere, it's away from them in the ceiling. I need to meet up with them where he can't see me and find out what's up.

 

I stop at the entrance and show an empty hand to the others, halting the stalk toward our target. Time is important, but we also need information.

 

I shake the ground near Leah and Reordin a little bit, churning the dirt like a broken wave originating in my position. The quake is just for them, just a little thing they can tell is trying to get their attention. Then I wait in the shadows behind my entrance to their side.

 

They can tell I'm here. Anyone around the staircase can't.

Edited September 15, 2014 by Own Personal Quixote

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin

 

Zaktan wasn't the only one thinking on his feet.  Ishi saw several routes opening and closing in tandem, possibilities accessed or denied with a shift in posture by those around.  With Zaktan the possibilities opened and closed like a door in a gale; it was almost impossible to tell anything from his erratic body movement.  The Hapaka wasn't one for definite plans.  In the current situation he favored the quick creation of a multitude of schemes involving varying hues of brilliance and insanity, as if instead of spending time priming the canvas and mixing colors he simply dumped the paint buckets into a larger vessel, stirred it with a stick name Joske, splashed the concoction against a raw canvas of rahkshi and piraka, and waited for the paint to dry.  If Ishi was a painter his works would be in the section for post-modern art.  Instead, he was informant who dealt in secrets.  Ishi's last work was buried in a glass jar halfway between Po-Koro and Forsi, much to Nuparu's chagrin.

 

Joske fell immediately into the role of lady's man man's man man about town with a scarf often known as Dorian Shaddix.  Ishi had never met the gunslinger and ex-mark-bearer, but from stories he'd heard at bars and in government documents he couldn't help but feel the ta-toa was tapping into the right vein.  Was method acting a part of Joske's earlier days?  Then Ishi remembered Joske was a prick as a kohlii star.  All the journalists in the Mata-Nui Daily office despised his apparent lack of anything that didn't involve a reflective surface.  One snarky reporter had even hypothesized the only real reason Joske Nimil was so good at kohlii was because he was always chasing after his reflection in the ball and it had nothing to do with any sort of love for the sport itself.  Chase the shiny ball, win shiny trophy, soon he'd have a rack of golden mirrors.  Lieutenant Lipa had mentioned something about Dorian being a fierce fighter as well.  Hopefully, if it came to it, Joske was worth something with Heuani's flamberge and not swinging it Ishi's way.  He'd have to make sure of that.

 

The rahkshi were textbook, their colors quickly distinguishing rank and power just as the book he'd read before meeting the Abettor the first time referenced.  He'd been in the Wise Man's Archive with Krios only a few weeks ago pulling scrolls and books off their shelves with a candid interest in self-preservation during his journey to Mangaia.  How fast the world rushed by, and here he was again, this time even further than before.  Diligence paid off, apparently.  

 

Speaking of diligence.  

 

Ishi caught the subtlety of Zaktan's move.  Sending away a sentient ally to join the Abettor in his lair instead of a few of his rahkshi proved the thought of distrust among the piraka.  Ishi watched the red skakdi stomp up the stairs until he turned and disappeared from sight with his three rahkshi slaves.  Then Zaktan wanted Echelon's message: perfect timing.

 

Ishi started talking.  His voice echoed a little, but not so much as back in the Abettor's lair.  "Yeah, Echelon said he wanted a shipment of tech and antidermis brought to Ko-Koro ahead of schedule.  I left before they started the assault, but he felt confident in using the extra stuff to win the hearts of the populace.  I think the exact words were 'incinerate the non-believers' but I took it with a grain of salt. "  Ishi took a cautious step down the first stair and pulled a face as his foot squelched on something roach-like.  Giving it a kick into nearest pile of techno-treasures he continued down the stairs.  

 

"As for you, Mr. Blue Eyes Red Dragon, I've got some questions I'd like answering once your little task is done."

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

Zaktan saw no concrete reason to disbelieve the Matoran's words had come from Echelon. However, he found the heedless overconfidence inherent in a preemptive request for Antidermis and technology, a request that had to have been made before the battle for Ko-Koro had even begun, to be uncharacteristic of the Dark Toa; Echelon was smug and pretentious, but he wasn't stupid; therefore Zaktan regarded the message with suspicion. He would not have been at all surprised to discover that the Matoran had lied about the message's contents, or about even having had a message to deliver. Again, Zaktan got the frustrating, tantalizing whiff of something just out of reach, a falsehood he yearned to reveal.

 

But Zaktan hadn't expected the Matoran's message to do much to help him uncover the untruth that he so craved. The much more lucrative mine of inconsistency thus far had been the Toa, so Zaktan's next inquiry - one he'd been derailed from asking minutes ago by the appearance of Hakann and the Matoran - would be designed to provide him with deeper insight. Again the Skakdi's red eyes bored into the Toa's, and again the Toa could not hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. The Toa looked away, but Zaktan did not. He needed conclusive proof one way or another of the Toa's identity; this was the only way to proceed. 

 

As all brilliant thoughts usually came to Zaktan, this one arrived in an instant, fully and elegantly formed.

 

"Bring me a sphere and launcher," Zaktan called to nobody in particular, the eerie hum of his voice echoing through the hexagonal well. The Rahkshi closest to the vat broke its statuesque stillness, setting aside its staff as it picked up a black-green Zamor Sphere in one hand and then Zaktan's well-used Zamor Launcher in the other. The hunched creature handed the tool and its ammunition deferentially to Zaktan, who took the launcher and loaded it with the sphere. The Rahkshi returned to its post and its weapon; Zaktan held the Zamor launcher at his side with a practiced, casual grip. Both Toa and Matoran swallowed; not only had they been reminded of the total obsequiousness of the deadly Rahkshi in the room to Zaktan's will, but they now also faced an armed Piraka with unclear motives. Purely to augment their nervousness, Zaktan let a his serpentine face curl into a sinister leer, and took an ample pause before he addressed the Toa again.

 

"I believe that you, Dorian, said you had come to make a delivery. Tell me, what have you come to deliver?"

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Kini-Nui Temple complex; interior

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

C'mooooon Lady Luck, I'm A-LMOST THERE...

 

Except now he's ARMED. And therefore even more exceedingly DANGEROUS.

 

"E-easy there Guy Smiley, I've been nothing but a mostly-cooperative guest, which is far more than my usual fees dictate. I mean, that leery grin is not at all attractive, but those pearly whites!... all I gotta say is this: you guys must have an amazing dental plan."

 

With that statement I turned to the Matoran. "Yeah, sure, like I'm going to talk you you again, You Royal Blabiness, motormouthing everything about me at the first available opportunity. Typical informant; can't keep his mouth shut on the inconsequential details yet forgets to tell about the really important stuff, like a full benefits package for joining up. And here I am a part-timer. Sheesh! Next thing I know if I talk to you again you'll reveal to Echelon my preferred female color, my favorite food, and what stuffed animal I sleep with at night." I waited a beat before leaning in on the little Matoran, voice barely above a whisper. "Breathe a word about Pookie, and you're a dead man."

 

I didn't even have to look at him to sense it. If looks could kill, Zaktan's laser eyes would have fried me by now. If he had those. He might though...

 

Wait, had that Zamor launcher twitched closer?

 

Such is the high cost of playing Dor.

 

"Heh heh... riiiiight." I did that smile again, the sides of my lips twitching, jazz-handing to show that I was unarmed and slowly reaching into my satchel, pulling out two gems, both perfectly round, one a deep red and other a golden-brown hue. "Behold, a woman's best friend... beside yours truly of course. These little bad boys are the Crystals that were once housed in those hard-to-reach temples, representing the Matoran's Virtues, Principles, yadda yadda yadda. The guy who got them out of their cages did all the heavy lifting for me, and then was stupid...ly generous with them. With a little ingenuity, some bourbon and a smile, I wormed my way into his heart of hearts and his silly little man purse. Hook, meet Line, meet Sinker. I also found an inscription with them - don't laugh informant, I may be a barbarian but I CAN read - and they detailed another use for them, down here. Apparently they activate a device that has island-wide applications, so as the gentleman and opportunist that I am I was more than happy to lend my services to do that, since I promptly destroyed the instruction manual after memorizing it, ensuring that I would survive the encounter. I got all six in here, so no worries."

 

The look on Zaktan's face was not a happy one, as usual. I flared my eyebrows and rolled my eyes at the same time. "Hey, not my fault the inscription was a million years old and falling apart. The last few sentences were a bit hazy, or maybe that was because of the bourbon, not so sure anymore... but in any case I don't know exactly what will happen once it activates, so if it's going to backfire on anyone it'll hit me first and save you the trouble and the tremendous effort of pulling that hair trigger."

Edited September 15, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[Simulacrum]

-IC:-

 

Silence, the distant reverberations of others. Assume highest possible combatant amount: Six, perhaps? Presume combat capabilities to be maximal.
 

“Prepare,” two move ahead at the beginning of the whisper, striding to the staircase's edge, and then descend as the last syllable is uttered, hovering lightly to the cavern's floor, their comrades below likewise searching for signs of potential offensives. Extremely subtle disturbance in the earthen section of ceiling and walls; arrival postponed.

 

I draw my Lava and Zamor Launcher, activate thermographic vision, and begin descent, the remaining Rahkshi directly behind. If a fall occurs, it understands the needed course of action.

Edited September 15, 2014 by L'Etranger

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin

 

"I didn't know you had a preferred female color," Ishi said, more of a wheeze really as he tried to not burst out laughing.  "And a million year old manual telling you to put the stones below?  I'm not sure what genre to put that in: self-help or exercise?"  He waved an arm in the air like a drowning man as he doubled over and cackled, slapping a palm to his knee for support.  The echoes were ugly renditions of something far more unique, but the paint he'd so quickly splashed on the canvas was beginning to dry into a composition far more incoherent than he could've dreamed.  It was fantastic.  The more detail he packed into the painting, the more colors he could stir together with that Joske stick between his hands, the more likely the desired outcome would barf itself into creation simply to escape the cesspool of alternate possibilities.  

 

Zaktan had a single zamor in a launcher.  On its own Ishi wouldn't have worried, but with the rahkshi so fully subservient the situation posed a threat.  Regarding the possibility of death: Ishi really didn't care.  He was having far too much fun, and like every time before he'd expected the game to leave him broken, battered, and ripped from his body to join the one he could no longer talk to.  The one he'd planned on giving a silver ring.  The one who'd given him a Ta-Koro widget, not knowing someday it'd become a treasured possession hidden in the archives of Catarix Vint'Rasque to grow cold like her heart.  Someday, he was going to lose this game.  

 

Someday, He was going to win and wake up in Nakumiir's arms.  

 

"Tell you what, Zaktan: let me fish out some documentation.  Here," Ishi sat down and reached into his drawstring bag to rummage for the necessary item with a long tendril of shadow, pulling a faded and rather battered piece of paper with a sigil and quick scrawl of letters regarding gate admittance but no date out into the light, "is a stamped copy of release from Ko-Koro by Ambages the Architect.  Since Matoro got knocked off he's been running the show in the village as Hand of the Akiri.  Well he was appointed by Matoro six or seven months ago, but that's neither here nor there. The place is in lockdown again, they heard the marching troops through the radio system throughout the mountains.  Ambages told me about Echelon's message since they've been in cahoots together for a few months -- you know, the classic evil vizier drill -- and then chucked me out the side gate by the hospital to run fast before the fighting got rolling, so I guess you could say I'm the second messenger and maybe the words got a little warped in the transmission, but here's some paperwork, if nothing else."  Ishi smiled, something less sinister than Zaktan's buzzing sneer but conveying a similar message.  He meant business.  

 

"So, do I take a message to Echelon telling him to stuff it, or is there a pile of garbage tech I can drag back to Ko-Koro to satisfy his dark whimsy?  Maybe a wrench that goes boom when thrown?"

[Vezok's Friend]

OOC: Well, since it appears that little retcon cause both Hakann and Zaktan to suddenly be totally alert despite a very careful approach from the other side, let's skip the pleasantries. Written with Tyler's permission to fill in Reo's actions to move things along. 

 

IC (Leah): 

 

A slight shudder, right underneath their feet. It was subtle. So subtle that Leah doubted anybody else could feel the disturbance. The Rahkshi standing watch certainly didn't. She could only think of one person who had the necessary fine control over the element of earth to do this. The two Maru's eyes turned towards the entrance of the chamber. Sulov was here. That was a plus. But between him and them stood three Rahkshi. If those were alerted, they would make noise, call down the Piraka from above and they would have their hands full. She glanced at the ground, then to the staircase, just as the red Skakdi spoke again. “Prepare,” his voice echoed softly around the chamber, followed by two more Rahkshi making their way down the stairs, followed by the red Skakdi himself and then another of the Makuta's sons. Hakann had brought along quite the entourage - which begged the question of how the Piraka had assumed direct control of both the vault's guardian the other voice had shouted about, as well as the feral sons of Makuta down in these tunnels. The implications were...problematic. But right now, that was the least of their concerns. 

 

They needed to give Sulov the intel so he had an accurate overview of the situation. Somehow, probably through paranoia or more likely a Skakdi vision power, their opponent was suspecting company. Then she had an idea: All three of the Maru had been in the guards, they all knew non-verbal ways to quickly pass info from one to the other without drawing attention. And right now, Sulov was attuned to the earth on which they stood. Without lifting her heel, she slightly raised her knee, then brought it down again. The movement was perfectly silent and yet, it sent the tiniest shudder through the earth. Nobody - even somebody standing right next to her would have noticed it - except Sulov. She repeated the movement, speeding up now and again, while leaving pauses between the tiny shudders. It was a morse-code message:

 

Chamber.

 

Six Rahkshi.

 

One Piraka: Hakann.

 

We engage. You flank.

 

It took just enough time for the message to be transmitted that Hakann could reach the bottom of the stairs. No more time to lose. She exchanged a look with Reordin and they understood each other. It was time to revive the tactic they had used against Makuta's Manas before. 

 

With a quiet, deep breath, Leah summoned her elemental control. The next instant, an expanding blue sphere of liquid appeared and immediately exploded in the center of the room, dousing the Rahkshi in water. That got their attention, seven pairs of glowing eyes turning towards her. Then Reordin stepped out of the shadows, one of his ice axes drawn, while otherwise just being armed with a raised hand and a cocky grin. He snapped his fingers, and the water clinging to the Rahkshi began to sizzle and smoke as it was turned to acid, the son's of Makuta hissing and shrieking as their armor began to dissolve.

 

"Oh I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?"

[sunflower]

OOC: With the power of BZPRPG Time ^TM, I hereby make this post.

 

IC: Vezok

 

A languid smile spread from one corner of my mouth to the other as my gaze burned into my quarry, all else shrouded by the almost complete darkness that permeated the caverns here.

 

“Me,” I echoed, breathing the word with an air of sharp finality that forestalled any reply to the statement. It had proven easy enough to separate the Toa from the rest of his group, even more so because I didn't have to make it look like an accident, the Mangaia's reputation of having untold dangers around every corner worked wonders there. That, and the fact that the rest of his companions were obviously trying to get somewhere quickly, I could certainly guess where, and this fellow here didn't seem too fond of them.

 

I wasn't one to lurking in the shadows, but this had been warranted.

 

“Me.”

 

I repeated the word again, taking a step back from the Toa.

 

“But that isn't the interesting part, no. You know who I am, so it seems. Yes, you're quite aware.”

 

“The question is then, of course, who are you? Yes, that is a fascinating subject. Who are you, Toa?”

 

I wasn't entirely clueless here, but people often gave more information than what was asked, and who doesn't enjoy talking about themselves? Besides, if my suspicions proved false, there are other things that I could use a Toa for.

[Constructelf]

IC: Anedonia (Narrator's perspective)

Okay man, what. Were. You. Thinking?

 

I mean, you were just sitting in your home, all along, staring at a blank wall, when all of a sudden, you decide to jump out and head to the depths of Mangaia, in search of an image with "presence".

 

First off, what do you mean by "presence"?

 

Second of all, YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO GO INTO MANGAIA OF ALL PLACES, YOU IDIOT!!!

 

I mean, it was lucky enough that you survived the Dark Walk. But instead of turning back like any sensible person would, you decided to press on, continuing your search for the presence that would "blow the crowd off of their feet".

 

I assume they would he flying through the back wall as well, Anedonia? I mean, if it has that much "presence"...

 

Okay, I sorta get it. Most artists wish to create something something revolutionary, astounding, awe-inspiring, at least once in their lives. A Magnum Opus, the pinnacle of achievement and what future generations would have drilled into their heads when recounting what "this important person" had done in their life, and all that. Recognition. Accomplishment.

 

It wouldn't make you happy, though.

 

In fact, you can't get happy at anything.

 

Anyways, I (the invisible, oft-ignored, and veeeery sardonic narrator inside Anedonia's head) digress. Right now, we have to deal with the issue of this dumb Fa-Toa walking towards-oh dear, why is he headed towards the vault!!!

 

I would try and protest, but he can't hear me anyways, so all I can do is sit back and groan as he heads towards what would very much be his doom, sketching tools in hand, hooks and buckshot (without a gun) on his hip.

 

Seriously. You. Are. Dumb.

 

OOC: to summarize:

• Anedonia has appeared in the Dark Walk tunnels headed in the direction of the Vault. He is open for interaction.

Edited September 15, 2014 by namcurtsnoC

[Toa Fanixe]

IC:

 

"I am Lantz..."

 

The Gravity Toa looked the Skakdi up and down, comparing it to the image in his head that grown from low-whispered rumours. A group of Skakdi responsible for terrorist attacks across the island, calling themselves 'Piraka.' They were fearsome foes, each more powerful than a half dozen Toa and powers to boggle the mind. 

 

Lantz thought they would be taller.

 

This was only one of them, of course, but Lantz doubted the others would be significantly bigger. If they were, he was sure he would have heard a number of jokes about a runt. Lantz smiled invisibly at the thought that such incredible power could be contained in a dwarf sized creature.

 

"...Touched by Darkness and former Herald of Shadow. "

 

He wondered what brought the Skakdi here, to Mangaia. It was possible they were seeking shelter from the island's pompous 'authorities,' but Lantz knew to be overly simple. No, the Piraka -and he mean't many of them, for where one agent of chaos was to be found others were too - had come seeking the treasures of the Vault, like oh so many other visitors to Mangaia's tunnels since Makuta's fall. There were many questions to be asked from the Skakdi like who they were, where had they come from, who they served. But there was only one question that mattered to Lantz.

 

"Now I am a Seeker of Power and Bringer of Chaos." Lantz eyed the Skakdi with evil malice. "From what I understand, you are proficient in both. Tell me, have you opened the Vault?"

[Franco]

IC: Alright.

 

The lighting here's good for my eyes, the terrain my element. I can map this plan mentally. We are armed, we know more than we did last time, we're ready for it.

 

Execution time.

 

I slip my right hand into my pack for the gun. I raise my left and angle it forward. Universal symbol for "go in."

 

I turn the corner, both hands on pistol, and look to the center.

 

Hakann's first target. If he had been on the ground, this'd have started--he's at the stairs. I spot him and aim at midsection.

 

Squeeze trigger twice.

Edited September 16, 2014 by Own Personal Quixote

[Simulacrum]

OOC: The question of Hakann's placement on the stair seems to be a bit controversial (unless I'm reading the Sulov post wrong, which is depressingly likely), so excuse me if I severely blunder again. Also, apologies if I don't manage to post as often as would be liked; a combination of several factors has led to increased inactivity.

 

-IC:-

 

The descent begins silent, exquisitely tense, but soon devolves into offensives. An uncertain ellipsoid of water suddenly appears moderately below me, its matter amplified with impressive speed; I rapidly grab the staff of the Rahkshi behind; it thankfully understands the practiced movement. Instantly, it is rising with all speed possible, pausing only to deposit me higher on the stairs, out of present danger. The other Rahkshi have likewise risen, though I am not certain if they have done so with the same speed. Liquid generation is an odd choice; I must calculate the possible reasons-

 

Ah.

 

How delightful. Damage analysis reveals others received little impairment, no visible ally destruction (although their armour does look unusually burnished where moisture resided). Three of the Rahkshi, who have seemed, with minor exceptions, to have recovered with excellent speed, use their flight to cover the distance between their foes (who should now find themselves the victims of a wonderfully incapcitating fear aura of the greatest strength); if they remember orders, they will not immediately enter into melee combat, but analyze opponents with testing offensives, still airborne and alert. Their disorienting shrieks; finer rejoicing is unknown to creation.

 

Other two Rahkshi move slight behind their comrades, in a wider arc; analyzing wounds and assessing opponents. Singular remaining Rahkshi remains with me, its posture viciously elert, due to a commanding gesture. I must minimise danger. Begin locomotion; do not cease. Static targets will most likely be devastated.

 

Probable opponent identity: Toa Maru (such a perfect transmutation). Suggested course of action: notify Zaktan, commence counteroffens-

 

Such brilliant, vivid euphoria.

 

Bliss. My vision sharpens, my muscles constrict, my spine becomes torsional. The seraphic aroma of blood. Breathe; time is liquid (no, gaseous). Abstract becomes graphically pictorial.

 

Immediate inspection; singular projectile (two shots fired; other resiled off stairs) pierced and exited outermost tissue of thigh. Movement reduced, not removed. Blood loss most likely moderate; auxiliary sections of the popliteal vein and coresponding artery are the worrisome targets. Estimated intention, factoring in movement: abdomen, thoracic (genu?). Glory; sacramental and delectable.

 

“Kill.” A singular command, as I move around the stairs, blocking myself from further fire.

 

It is highly unlikely Zaktan could ignored the noise. It is also highly likely he would prefer my death. Probability of desertation?

 

Uncertain. Assume yes. Full offensive.

 

No restrictions. The other airborne Rahkshi rush the gun-wielder (possible companions? I certainly hope not). An impenetrable soundless prison is his to enjoy. The other rushes into combat, still airborne, staff a fatal blur. Blocking will be met with the full force of a Fragmentation Rahkshi's rage.

 

Just the both of us now, my bodyguard. Now, who shall we choose?

[Mr. House]

IC: (Arvun/Entrance, The Vault, Mangaia)

 

Arv knew it would be a fight or die situation. As soon as he saw the figures to the front of him, he knew he hadn't any chance to flee. The Rahkshi would surely kill him if he did. So he would join this Maru, pray to whatever deity was out there, and fight to live. Live he would. His mind was however screaming at him, screaming in opposition, screaming in fear. As the sons of the dark lord came charging in, he held himself next the Maru by sheer will. He suddenly became aware of the leather in the hilt of his Kaskara, the weight of its blade, the racing beat of his heart, the air going to his lungs and the sweat going down his brow. He could see the shadows coming towards him, and raised his arm in defiance of them.

 

His wife would have cried at him not to, if she would have been here to see.

 

But that was the past, and this was now. The tide had turned, and he had swam with it. He knew the Protosteel of his blade was sharp, as he honed it out of compulsion. The Makutaspawn were fast, they were strong, and they could skewer Arv as easily as a knife through butter. But he had fought alongside them once, and he felt a fleeting amount of confidence he could go against them. He needed to attack them in their weak spots, to work with his companions. One went after Sulov, the others came alarmingly towards them. He would go for the legs, he felt, take out the legs, and they were vulnerable. But first, he'd have to help Sulov.

 

So Arv went forward, sword and one hand, Kukri in the other. He'd help the Maru as much as he could.

 

 

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

The conflict between the fusion toa picked up once more, as the two were unable to figure out how they wanted to fight the rahkshi.

 

Which was probably why they were hanging back, constantly changing how they held the knife, and looking really fidgety and agitated that neither one of them were capable of taking control.

[Nuju Metru]

IC:
Zaktan had grown impatient of the Matoran's interruptions, especially as he sought to focus on the Toa and unraveling his lie. The Skakdi could be extremely patient when he chose to be; but there was no need for patience now. The Matoran's well of information had run dry enough that Zaktan felt no qualms about discarding him; if it weren't for the Matoran's capacity to deliver Zaktan's reply to Echelon, the Piraka wouldn't have exercised restraint.

 

"Seize," Zaktan ordered, pointing at the Matoran. Without hesitation, the nearest Rahkshi stabbed the point of its staff at the Matoran's throat - luckily for the Matoran, it was shaped like a two-pronged pitchfork, with sufficient space between the blades for his neck - and, like a jouster, charged at the wall. The pitchfork staff, held unwaveringly by the Rahkshi, pinned the Matoran by his throat to the wall, his feet dangling in nothing. The Matoran started to choke; the Toa looked on, and though he did his best to maintain a straight face, Zaktan meticulously noted a fleeting expression of shock and disgust on the Toa's face. As soon as the Toa realized that Zaktan had taken a measure of him, and looked back to the Piraka, his face composed again, Zaktan turned from him and strolled, hands behind his back, towards the strangling messenger. He didn't mince words.

 

"Tell Echelon that I will not send him so much as a vial until I have received confirmation of his victory," Zaktan said coolly. At his gesture, the Rahkshi pressed its staff harder against the Matoran's neck, the prongs starting to crack the quartz on either side. "Tell him as well that I would never entrust my valuable resources to as weak a courier as you. Release."

 

The Rahkshi retracted its weapon, allowing the Matoran to slide down the wall. The Matoran gulped and rattled as he ushered air back into his lungs; blessedly, the effort left him speechless for a few seconds, time Zaktan meant not to waste. "Leave," he buzzed, face flaring for a flash into greater entropy. The Rahkshi that'd just suspended the Matoran twirled its staff to reinforce its master's order.

 

Confident that the Matoran would escort himself out, Zaktan at last returned to engaging the Toa before him, who'd had plenty of time to lay his mask of breezy arrogance back on. But before he could ask the Toa for more information about his outlandish claim, a distinct commotion from outside ricocheted through the Abettor's tunnel, into the Vault proper, and to Zaktan's ears. He considered the din. Hakann usually preferred to be much quieter as he disemboweled; it was possible that the visitors were more numerous than he'd anticipated. The shrieks of several of his Rahkshi, pained rather than intimidatory, didn't bode well for the red Piraka either. Zaktan entertained the possibility of letting Hakann deal with the enemies alone - perhaps, in the process, Zaktan would rid himself of a thorn that'd too long stabbed his foot - but a fight this close to the Vault stung Zaktan's proprietary pride. He wanted the enemies dead, and had more than enough Rahkshi to provide support while maintaining control of his own situation.

 

"Darkness, Adaptation, Teleportation, and Poison" he snarled. Zaktan had long ago trained his Rahkshi to answer to their power types. Those four Rahkshi stood at attention. "Join Hakann's forces outside. Act at your own discretion to kill the intruders on our doorstep." The four Rahkshi started on their way out. "And," Zaktan added, the dangerous leer returned to his face, "Take the messenger with you on your way out." The Rahkshi of Adaptation - the one that had pinned him before - now roughly grabbed the Matoran by his upper arm and dragged him along up the stairs with the squadron.
 

Zaktan still held the Zamor Launcher, and he reminded the Toa of this fact by twisting his wrist. "Tell me about this device," the Piraka delved, unveiled skepticism bitterly coloring his words. "This device, to which you claim to hold the only keys, and about which you claim to have the sole knowledge... What does it do, and why should I believe that it exists?"

 

...

 

As the Rahkshi exited the hole in the Abettor's tunnel, and took their first few steps onto the corkscrew staircase leading into the Vault's atrium, the Rahkshi of Darkness spread a cloud of shadow before them, disguising their entrance from view to those below. The Rahkshi of Adaptation let go of Ishi, and kicked him down, almost launching the stumbling Matoran entirely off the narrow stairs. Its staff - only its pronged tip visible to Ishi through the oppressive cloud of darkness around him - and a barely audible, threatening hiss made the Rahkshi's message very clear to Ishi: you go first.

Edited September 22, 2014 by Nuju Metru

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Kini-Nui Temple complex; interior

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

This... guy... just... doesn't... QUIT!

 

I was so close I could taste it. Whatever was going on outside was sucking up his minions, which left half of his current forces inside. Not that I had any happy thoughts of engaging in combat that is... just meant that worst-case scenario was now manageable.

 

Barely.

 

Still, as agitated as he was I was now in the home stretch. In this chess game it was down to the last few moves, and considering I started without a full set of pieces, the current situation was nothing short of a miracle. Whoever was outside I would have to thank them later... if we all survived this encounter, that is.

 

I cocked my head sideways as if to comprehend his words. "You're killing me, pearly-whites. Look, you're making me sound like a broken record with only one song on the track. As I've said, I don't know exactly what it is or how it works, only how to turn it on and that it affects the whole island. I mean, think about it - it only makes sense that a megalomaniac deity such as his Royal Master of Shadowness the Makuta would have such an island-spanning contraption, buried so deep in the dark of his own palace that only a Ph.D. of colonoscopy with five-hundred years experience could even hope of finding it. Trust me, if I knew I'd be acting more coy than the fear you seem to be stringing me along with like a master violinist, not to mention charging an astronomically larger amount for my services."

 

I leveled my own stare, like someone who was himself getting tired of the games. "As to your second demand, Mr. Paranoia, as to why you should believe this outrageous and completely ludicrous story... may I present to you Exhibit A: Your Rahkshi of Molecular Dismember-I mean Disruption. He's standing on it."

 

This was the part I had been waiting for the entire time. The moment I had stepped inside this place I had been looking for the apparatus, not knowing exactly what I was looking fro but also knowing that I would know the moment I saw it. Even the way Zaktan kept forcing my gaze away was an advantage I used, every time scoping out a new section of the quartz hexagon. On the last pass I finally spotted what I was looking for - a semi-circular spot on the floor, half-buried by the pile of technology and the foot of the light-blue Rahkshi pressing atop of it. The section that I could see was actually composed of two circles, one slightly larger than the other, with a large central disk. It was this series of rings I was looking for... but even with my observations there was a snag. This entire room was covered with letters, in a seemingly random assortment, so from this distance even though I could make out the crystal-shapes rings, I could not make out which letter accompanied what ring. As complicated as this was it was barely visible, the edges as thin as a sheet of paper and matching seamlessly with the floor... not to mention the pile of stuff on top of it and the mass of glowing alphabets. But now that I had pointed it out I could see Zaktan's eyes narrow as he started to analyze this new piece of information.

 

So I took the opportunity and made a leap of faith.

 

With a flick of the wrist I pulled out the Crystal of Faith and gently chucked it in that direction. The sound of stone on stone caused everything else in the room to flinch slightly, as if a grenade was about to go off. I could feel the eyes of the Sons of Makuta staring me down, but they made no moves as Zaktan was too focused on the gem that was now rolling across the floor, it the only sound made in the vast chamber. Like a golf ball on the green it lazily approached the apparatus, slowing, slowing, slowing yet moving... arcing, as if attracted to the circles. It came to a crawl, made on last roll in the other direction-

 

I held my breath as it landed inside a circle, the letter right above it glowing brighter than the rest.

 

It was a perfect fit.

 

The crystal dropped into a hole in the floor that was clearly NOT there just a moment before, a mysterious blue light source illuminating the pocket it now rested in. I could almost hear a hum, but it could just be my own blood rushing through my body. Taking a bold chance I turned to face the visible semicircle, waving my had casually.

 

"Any more questions from the Inquisition, or shall I proceed with the ceremonies? I would really like to cut this ###### and bull-###### and just do my job. I already gave you permission to look over my shoulder and take a peek if you're that eager."

Edited September 17, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

Zaktan raised the Zamor Launcher so that its sphere was aimed point-blank at the Toa's head. The Toa froze, midway through retrieving a second crystal.

 

"Whoa, there, buster, what's the deal!?" the Toa spluttered. "Didn't you just see that? Don't you see the... light-hole-thing? Can't you tell that I was telling the truth?"

 

"About some things, perhaps," Zaktan replied tersely. "Slowly set down your bag and your sword." With a weapon trained on his head, and four Rahkshi around besides, the Toa had no choice but to do as he was told, unbuckling both sword and scabbard from his person before slipping his bag off his shoulder. He bent carefully to lay them on the ground. "Straighten and face me," Zaktan commanded; the Toa did so, and the Zamor Launcher was aimed at the bridge of his nose. Mildly cross-eyed, the Toa took stock of it.

 

"Okay," he said, doing his best to keep up his debonair act. "Okay there, boss, you got me cornered. What do you want?"

 

"An answer to a question," Zaktan replied. "Are you Dorian?"

 

"Yeah!" the Toa said, rolling his eyes the same way for the umpteenth time. "What, d'you need to see me seduce a few ladies and commit a few crimes to believe me?"

 

"I believe that you're lying," Zaktan informed him. He watched the subtlest shiver ricochet up and down the Toa's spine. "Do you know what's in this sphere?"

The Toa crossed his eyes again to stare down the swirling black-green fluid in the projectile. "Err, no... doesn't look pleasant, though."

 

This remark made the corners of Zaktan's wide mouth twitch (moreso than usual). The memory of green fire, eating him from the inside out. "It isn't pleasant. This sphere is filled with Antidermis, a powerful corrosive substance."

"So it's, what, gonna melt my face?"

"Along with the rest of you, potentially," Zaktan informed him levelly. "The Antidermis is not only powerful; it's also intelligent, economical. It destroys in the most efficient way possible."
 

"What does that even mean?"

 

"If you'd let me continue," Zaktan hissed with the sort of venom that disallowed more snide interjections. The Toa got the message and shut up. Thereafter, only Zaktan's buzzing voice bounced off the walls of the Vault. "What that means is that the Antidermis chooses to react differently every time it encounters a being. If a being will be useless to the Antidermis' mission of obliteration - if the being is foolishly predisposed to fighting entropy and doing good in the world - then the Antidermis simply eliminates them from it... 'Melts their face,' as you so guessed." With these words, Zaktan consciously allowed his own ever-shifting face to droop, run, dribble before the Toa's mesmerized eyes. It was a grotesque display that he reversed a second later. Face again fighting with its normal fervor to stay intact, the Piraka went on.

 

"But if the Antidermis senses that the life it has come into contact with will be useful towards achieving its ultimate end - if the being in question stands to be corrupted towards doing ill, or already does it - then the Antidermis holds the power to take control of that life, and even augment its strength. The Antidermis grants the wicked of heart tremendous, dangerous, and bizarre abilities, abilities with which they become more effective destroyers of the world around them.

 

"You see, this sphere full of Antidermis will act as a sort of test: depending on how it reacts to you, Toa I will know who you truly are. If you are Dorian, as you still claim to be, you've little to fear... at worst, the Antidermis will bind your soul forever to the execution of the sorts of deeds you already sell yourself to do, and at best, it will arm you with new power. But if you've been lying, then the Antidermis will melt your face, and then the rest of your body. It clings to you when it does; it feels like acid, fire, accelerated decay as it eats you. Though the Antidermis is fast, it's not nearly fast enough for you not to scream.

 

"If the Antidermis proves you to be who you say you are, I lose nothing; I may even gain a new ally. If it proves you right, then we will continue to arm this mysterious device of yours, and thereafter reap its benefits. If it proves you to be a liar, I still lose nothing; I will have eliminated another would-be hero from this island, and I will have stopped you from activating a device that probably does something to hinder my forces and me. Whatever happens, I win; it's only you that stands to perish... and you already know whether or not that will happen."

 

Zaktan fired the sphere.

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Kini-Nui Temple complex; interior

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

Makutaspawn-

 

The world staggered into slow-mo as I activated my mask the moment I saw him pull the trigger, the Zamor sphere slowly moving down the barrel towards my mask. Clearly this was checkmate move, a well-calculated and designed finishing blow to this battle of wills. The only question was, was this actually checkmate... or merely check? I quickly went through my options.

 

One, take it. Like a man. Which was the dumbest idea. Ever. It would kill me in a VERY unpleasant way. Now there WAS always that possibility I could fight it off... but at what cost? Say I somehow managed to shrug off the Antidermis' effects... I would be so weakened by the effort I probably couldn't even move, let alone get away from Zaktan. Which again lead to my immediate, painful, and otherwise untimely death.

 

Which meant two, dodge it.

 

The Zamor sphere had left the barrel, which left me not much time to react. As I began to bend at the knees and twist my shoulder, my mind raced as to how I was going to explain THIS to him. Clearly he had all the angles covered, this being the perfect litmus test. Any attempt on my part to dodge or otherwise resist it would be an immediate sign of hero-goodness, while taking it would just prove that point in death. I was having a hard time seeing a way out of this one. It would seem as though my luck ran out. It wasn't as if you could castle out of check...

 

Wait... could I?

 

The Zamor sphere was so close to my shoulder I could feel phantom sensations of it touching as I rolled under it, pushing my mask to as far as I dared. What had Cael just told me earlier today? About redealing the cards until I had a hand I liked? Dorian has a knack for talking his way out of things... what would an old-school womanizing hit-man assassin think of this? 

 

What would Dorian do?

 

The answer... was surprisingly simple.

 

The sphere hit the wall behind me, a sickening splat accompanying the impact. I was bent over backwards and sideways as far as physically possible, rotating my way back up with a groan. The sadistic leer on Zaktan's face was unmistakable, no doubt thinking-

 

"You idiot."

 

And just like that his leering froze.

 

My posture, my clenched fists, my gritted teeth... I was one P.O.'d Toa with a score to settle. "You egotistical nitwit! What the karzahni do you think you're doing!? I'M A MERCENARY!"

 

He clearly didn't get it, and I as Dor was more than happy to explain it to him. "I don't serve Makuta. I don't serve evil. I don't serve good. I don't serve Chaos, or Order, or whatever cause you want to pin on me. I don't serve an Ideal, and I definitely don't serve anyone. There's only one thing, one god that I faithfully follow: money. I don't purposefully act evil, nor do I purposefully act good; I do what I want when I want it. I didn't come here to get lectured on how vile you can make me; that's not how I roll. One day I'm on your side, killing some chumps and doing your dirty deeds, the next I'm working along side some heroes protecting some church and helping some old ladies down the street. Don't care what side I'm on, as long as I get paid. Helps me sleep better at night if you MUST know, doing a good deed every once in a while... as long as there is something in it for me."

 

I stared down this monstrosity with all the Dorian anger I could muster. "I don't need to be extra-evil. I don't do charity work. And I don't NEED more power or abilities; I have all that I need. When I hold that sniper rifle, scoping out someone at five hundred yards, knowing that YOU have the sole power of deciding if they live or die, having the power of god in your hand at that very moment... that's power. That's ultimate power, more than your gloating pomposity seems to understand. I don't need some dark voodoo juice pumping through my veins, I have enough of a drug cocktail in them already; adding anything else would probably kill me on the spot. I don't DO lackey. I don't DO minion. I am my own man and I will make my own god-###### decisions, not you. I make money. I live hard. Party hard. Then when I run out I go do it again. I'm a simple man with simple pleasures and simple tastes. Women, booze, drugs, fun, and money. And what you have there will take all that away from me in an instant. I don't want it, and so help me if you think you have ANY right to shove it down my throat. I wouldn't help Heuani, Makuta's second-in-command, when he wanted it, and that got me a near-death experience with a scar in my abdomen. I may be a cold-hearted, soulless merc, but even I have standards. Fear, poison, mind tricks, they don't work on me... only money. So if you want me to be an ally, then you're going to have to do it like every other ###### person on this island - you're going to have to pay me. That's where my loyalties lie."

 

I pointed a finger accusingly at him. "You didn't pay me, so I'm not subject to your little whims. Now either pay up for the trouble you've caused me, not to mention physical and emotional trauma, or let me leave in a huff. ######."

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

Dodging the projectile, and thus dodging the test, had been an avenue Zaktan wasn't surprised to see the Kakama-wearing Toa take. But because of this evasion, however much the Toa protested his identity as a mercenary - in fact, the more the Toa protested - Zaktan's suspicions about him only increased.

 

Zaktan didn't interrupt the Toa's profanity-filled tirade as it spilled out; having spent enough time in his company, the Skakdi knew that if he remained quiet and let the Toa speak as he would, the liar would end up convicting himself. A few careless words, and a downward dart of Zaktan's eyes, at last gave Zaktan the proof he'd sought for so long. There was no abdominal scar; this Toa was not who he claimed to be. Whether the Toa was an actual mercenary masquerading as Dorian to evade future consequences - a mercenary with an unknown patron, probably one of the other Piraka - or a hero masquerading as a mercenary was unimportant; the lie was real, and Zaktan had to consider its ramifications.

 

Something the Toa hadn't lied about had been the presence of a mysterious device in the Vault. That crystal he'd let fall to the floor had rolled into place of its own accord, and summoned a blue light that reminded Zaktan of the uncorrupted Abettor's luminance; such things did not happen except under the influence of powerful forces. Whatever secret lay beneath Zaktan's feet, the secret unlocked by those six crystals, was probably tied to the same incorporeal power that had incinerated the first enslaved Rahkshi when he and the rest of the Piraka had first entered the Vault. With that reasonable connection having been made, Zaktan could safely conjecture that the device, whatever it was, posed a threat to him. The Toa had lied about his identity; so he'd been sent, either by a competitor or by mere dumb duty, to sabotage and possibly kill Zaktan.

 

How had the Toa (or his employer) known about the device in the floor? And, more importantly, what else did the Toa know that Zaktan did not? The Piraka was quite aware that he didn't yet comprehend the Vault's true purpose, so the realized possibility that someone else knew more about it than him and intended to use that knowledge against him was a threat he knew better than to take lightly. The first reflex Zaktan had was to instantly eliminate the danger to his sovereignty; he entertained the option of killing the Toa - it'd be so easy - but soon dismissed the notion. Silencing this liar, satisfying as it would be now, would be shortsighted. Killing the Toa meant killing Zaktan's chances of discovering more, both about the Vault itself and about the Toa's sources of information. If Zaktan wanted to truly quell the threat, he would have to burn its roots. This Toa was his only lead to these roots; he had to live, and he had to think he'd gotten away with his lies. He'd have to think that he'd won.

 

"Trouble," Zaktan bubbled luxuriously, finally halting the tirade of words. "Physical and emotional trauma... these are vocational hazards of yours, Dorian. Surely you're not so naive that you expect recompense for them?"

"...It was worth a try," the Toa shrugged with faux sheepishness. He'd reverted again to forcefully breezy charm.

 

"I can respect an enterprising mercenary," Zaktan said after an oppressive pause. "I know how to work with an enterprising mercenary. You say you were sent here on orders to deliver... those?" The Skakdi gestured at the glowing crystal in the floor, and then the Toa's bag which held the others like it.

 

"Yep," the Toa answered.

 

"Who sent you?" Zaktan buzzed.

 

"Mmm..." the Toa considered exaggeratedly. "I don't remember."

 

Zaktan clasped his hands behind his back. "Why don't you look around the room for a moment," he hinted, harsh voice tempered with a sickly abundance of honey. "Perhaps something you see will... freshen your memory."

 

The Toa winked back at him, and proceeded to look around the Vault. His eyes flitted too quickly past the vat of Antidermis, moving on to roaming the mountain of technologies opposite it and then to the diminutive pile of Kanohi in one corner. The Toa made his way over to the masks and picked them up one by one, examining them in turn. He eventually narrowed the half-dozen or so down to two, and after a moment's consideration, opted for a ridged, angular Kanohi the likes of which was not seen commonly on the island of Mata Nui. He moved to try it on, but at a hiss from Zaktan, a Rahkshi slapped the Toa on the wrist, making him wince.

 

"What was that for?" the Toa protested.

 

"First, I need the name of your employer," Zaktan chided icily. "Tell me who sent you here with those crystals."

 

"Whoa, let's be clear," the Toa said. "I tell you who hired me. In return I get to leave with this mask. Yeah?"

 

"If those are the terms you wish," Zaktan replied. "Done."

 

"...Ambages," the Toa finally revealed. "Ambages sent me here to put these crystals in the floor. Happy?"

 

"No," Zaktan said. "But I am satisfied. You may go."

 

"Before I do," the Toa told Zaktan as he put the mask in his bag and moved to pull out another crystal. "Let me just finish what I was sent here to do--"

 

"Seize," Zaktan ordered. The same Rahkshi that had slapped the Toa's wrist now raised its hand at him, freezing him in place inside a vortex of red and purple energies. The Rahkshi of Stasis Field maintained its concentration on its captive while Zaktan addressed him, deadly quiet. "When my Rahkshi lets you go, you will not place the rest of the crystals. You will remove the one you've already inserted. You will take the crystals, the mask you have bought, and your life - which I have been generous enough to let you keep - and you will depart. Release."

 

The Rahkshi relented, and the Toa regained his mobility. He hastily bent to extract the crystal he'd already let fall; when he removed it, the notch into which it'd sunk returned to its normal level, looking like every other letter etched into the floor. The Toa pocketed the crystal again in his satchel, buckled his sword back on, and made his way back up the stairs. Once he was out of sight and earshot, Zaktan issued a quiet order.

 

"Chameleon," he whispered, drawing the attention of a yellow Rahkshi, which saluted with its staff as it heard its mission. "Follow the Toa. Do not let yourself be discovered. Gather information about his allies, and return to me when you have." The Rahkshi hissed with savage anticipation, and before Zaktan's eyes, it melted into the colors of the Vault, then flew silently after its quarry.

 

With a nasal exhale, Zaktan relaxed his entire body, melting into a whirling green cloud. He fell into his natural state effortlessly.

 

The cloud meandered closer to the Antidermis vat; it pulsed and shifted along with the dancing of the dark fluid within.

[Simulacrum]

OOC: Since I just realised my last post did absolutely nothing combat-wise, and I'm going to be busy the rest of this week/weekend, here's Hakann and company's first battle manoeuvres. I'll be active enough to fix any errors I'll undoubtedly make, but probably won't be able to respond to posts until later.

 

 

-IC:-

 

Direct pressure treament yields positive results, if not astounding ones. Remove bandoleer, turn into a crude bandage; careful not to create an amputation tourniquet. Bleeding? Reduced, continuing in the same pattern. Pulse checks for major sections of femoral artery: positive. Femoral vein is not visibly affected. Rectified worries; lateral superficial branches of the femoral artery. Wipe blood away as well as possible.

 

“Gun-wielder. Remove weapon; do not destroy it unless necessary. Killing strike.” The words are the lighest whispers; only a Toa of Sonics would be capable of perception.

 

The wound is contained; I equip my Lava Launcher and Macuahuitl; the weapons quiver with procellous anticipation. I begin charging a lava sphere.

 

The Rahkshi grew still as the Skakdi commanded it, eyes vague and glassy. As the instructions were completed, the crimson of its eyes grew vivid and ferocious, the visage of the apex predator. Below, where Sulov and his companions were fighting, it implanted a command into its comrade, the vehement Panrahk, to strike at his massive opponent's Kanohi countenance.

 

Suggestion quickly completed, the eager Rahkshi tore into the mind of the gun-wielder with the ravenous glee of a Muaka. The command was brutally clear; raise your arms to the ceiling, the primordial signal of powerlessness. To accentuate the command, it released a mental blast, painful, but far from its maximum capabilities. More, debilitating and excruciating, would come instantly, if the command was not followed.

 

* * *

 

The Fragmentation Rahkshi distractedly deflected a blow from Arvun, who had come between it and the Maru. The deflection thankfully did not contain its full concentration, for otherwise the Lesterin would have found his sword shattered, but it did contain enough subsidiary power to reflect the weapon jarringly back. Unconcerned about the state of the other combatants, the Rahkshi, still airborne and frighteningly fast, circled Sulov, searching for an opening during the blindingly rapid movements.

 

The command came with lightning speed, implanting itself into the Rahkshi's head. With a shriek unheard by its target, the monstrous son of Makuta twirled his staff, focusing maximum energy into the angular blades. Its circling taking it away from Arvun and his protection, the Rahkshi dived into its target, beginning their combat with a viciously rapid slash at his head, a movement that, due to the circular nature of its weapon, would quickly be accompanied by a similar attack to the chest.

 

The Silence Rahkshi, its lower armour slightly thinned by the minute layer of acid that had managed to reach it, was more cautious than its brethen. It took no immediate action, besides extending the field of soundlessness to the Maru's companions. Realizing that its comrade would require the majority of the titanic Onu-Toa's attention, it decided to oppose the other two intruders. After a moment's opponent analysis, it too charged, not airborne but still disquietingly speedy, at Arvun, elegantly transfering the momentum of its movement into an attempt at a skewering thrust.

 

* * *

 

The three Rahkshi, who flew rapidly over the Maru in dizzying patterns, understood the power of their opponents; it was apparent in their very stances, their expressions. These were the islands' premiere heroes; caution would be exercised.

 

Its aura of Fear covering the two Toa, sustained with the maximum power it could generate, the Turahk stayed out of melee reach, constantly moving in case of more attempts at elemental destruction. The previous attack managed to disfigure the tips of its feet, corroding the outer metal and warping the inner, and it had no doubt that subsequent attacks would be even more destructive. It would wait for an opening, and do its best avoid attacks.

 

The other two Rahkshi, their powers unrevealed, had sustained no detrimental effects from the attempted acid attack, and engaged in melee combat, swooping simultaneously at the two opponents, carefully designing their flight so that they would not collide.

 

In the far distance, something could be heard moving rapidly. It generated a scratching, earthen sound; dirt and stone was being moved.

 

OOC: Gah, totally forgot to explain about Rahkshi powers (thanks for the reminder, Corv). So, yeah, the Rahkshi attacking Sulov is technically referred to as a Mind Reading Rahkshi, but, according to Nuju, "The Rahkshi of Mind Reading essentially has the power of the Kanohi Komau. The Rahkshi's is principally an aggressive power rather than a stealth/intelligence power. There's emphasis on taking control of the enemy, battering him/her with mental blasts, rather than the subtler sort of stuff a Willhammer or skilled Komau user could achieve". As for the other two Rahkshi, they're Insect Control and Ice Resistance. I think that covers everything, Rahkshi-wise.

Edited September 18, 2014 by L'Etranger

[Vezok's Friend]

OOC: Well Darkon, according to the last Leah post, Hakann had enough time to reach the bottom of the stairs, while the Sulov post mentioned him still on them. That is pretty inconsequential to him being shot by Sulov though, so no worries there. It would however be nice to know what powers the three other Rahkshi in Hakann's entourage have which haven't been named yet.

Also this was written before your latest post. Since it wasn't mentioned clearly which Rahkshi attacked Leah. I took my pick.


IC (Leah):

Involuntarily she suddenly froze, unable to move despite being fully able to. The world around her slowed down for here, the red Rahkshi approaching her in flight, its aura glowing crimson in her mask's display, slowing down to a crawl. Her staff was half raised in a defensive position, her eyes wide, her body tense, but there was no motion. Outside signals from the Rahkshi were overriding reason, erecting a barrier, not physically but mentally, that locked her body in place, sheer terror gripping tight. Her breath was rapid and flat, as if taking sudden dive into freezing waters; the icy current pulling her down, down, down...

She would drown in her dread and then the Rahkshi would cut her down. There was no escaping from the bottom of this dark well...

...

She didn't expect to find company down here.

...

Are you afraid?


I must be.


How come?


I'm imagining you being here, talking to me.


And that means you are scared for your life?


...no...

Why am I here then?


As a guide.


To what?

...


When faced with overwhelming danger, there was something inside that took over your thinking, suppressed it, leaving you with two choices based in violent and primitive instinct: Fight or flight - surrender or run. Something clicked then, a missing part was slid back into place. Leah chose neither option, instead picking the path that all of the three Toa had been taught to walk in the face of danger, long before they were Toa. They had not been mere Matoran back then - they had been guards. Before the Toa had been their first and last line of defense, when the threat of Makuta had loomed over them constantly they had taken up arms. They had been trained to stand their ground in the face of the shadow and the monsters it vomited forth. Herself, Sulov, Reordin and many others and had taken up that which fear itself was most afraid of.

...

Courage

...

They had conquered their worst fears many moons ago and more than once. Alone and as a team they had faced them and emerged stronger for it. They had walked open-eyed into the darkness and burned it away with the righteous flame in their hearts. A single of its offspring would not stop them now.

The world sped back up, gears were turning, machinery moving again, and Leah's staff came up in time to parry the killing thrust aimed for her torso. The son of Makuta shrieked once more, altering course to get back out of melee range. It had failed to seize the opportunity and tried to rally for another attack. As it passed her, Leah noticed the Rahkshi's armor was still sizzling slightly from the initial attack, drops of the liquid still clinging to the shell and eating away at it. It was tougher than the exodermis of the Manas, but slowly and surely, it disintegrated, starting to appear corroded, except without any signs of rust - and the others of the initial group she and the Toa Maru of ice had hit were not fairing better.

Before the Rahkshi of fear could get completely out of her reach, she whirled, thrusting her staff with the force produced by the motion and the power of her arms, hitting the monster in the side below the shoulder-joint. It hissed as the metal got dented and was thrown off course. The Toa took a split second to get a quick look around before pressing the attack. Her eyes turned to where Hakann had been near the stairs - except the stairs were not there anymore, or if they were, they had faded from sight, cloaked in shadow. That could only mean one thing: More company.

Whatever happened to 'each set sold seperately'?

Edited September 19, 2014 by Vezok's Friend

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Kini-Nui Temple complex; interior

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

He let me live.

 

I felt like a fish after being caught on a hook and then released. The moment I made the last statement in my rant I realized I'd finally slipped, unable to take back the words that were tumbling out of my mouth. The scar. I had to mention the scar. I had no such scar, my lightweight not covering much of my abdominal section to my disdain and imbecilic forgetfulness. It was a terrifying moment as I saw his eyes dart down the instant I mentioned it... with no reaction.

 

Five minutes later I was walking up the stairs, a new mask in my hand as payment, a free man.

 

This... this simply did not make sense. Clearly he caught me lying, and I was sure I had slipped other places and just didn't notice it, me and my big mouth. Clearly he had me dead to rights, if he so chose. Yet here I am, walking away. This individual was not to be trifled with, suspicious to the point of paranoia, with the ability to handedly control a situation, asking all the right questions. Not to mention an army of Rahkshi. Why let me live? Why let a liar live... a liar...

 

... unless the liar had managed to successfully lie about some things.

 

Yes. That was the only thing that made sense A new strain of thoughts entered my mind, a deduction that slowly twisted itself into full form. If he thought I was a complete bag of trash, my every word absolutely worthless, he would have dropped me on the spot. I would be a waste of his time and really not worth the effort. On the other hand, if he thought I was the one who actually knew how the device worked, there would be no reason for me to leave. He would keep me there, or at least under his watchful gaze, until I told all, probably via torture or using that Antidermis for even more nefarious means. The only reason he would be letting me go was thought he actually thought I was the middleman - the guy who was simply doing a job on behalf of another. Much like Ahkmou he must want more information, to learn the Vault's secrets... and that I would somehow lead that to him via my departure. Somehow, somewhere in that charade I convinced him that I didn't know what that did. A lie that saved my life. I guess if I did anything right today...

 

As I crested the stairs I stared at the mask between my hands, my reward for my "efforts". It was a tough choice there in the end, but the overall usefulness of this one in the end outweighed the immediate benefits the other offered. Besides, there was something about this mask... like it called to me in some way. Or at least a feeling. I couldn't explain it, but it was as if it was a match for my personality, my persona. As I crossed the border between Vault proper and the secret entrance passage I decided to try it on for size, quickly swapping out my Kakama for the new one.

 

Yeah, but something STILL doesn't add up, I thought to myself glumly, feeling the new features on my face. If he thought I didn't know, but whoever sent me did, then he's letting me go in hopes of me crawling back to reveal what happened - like a little fish leading to the big one. But he's not Makuta; he can't see anywhere and everywhere he wants. And as powerful as those Rahkshi are, my Kakama would leave them in a trail of dust; they'd never catch me, let alone catch up. And it's not as if he's following me either... arrg, I just don't get it! What's he playing at letting me loose?

 

I gave a frustrated sigh as I approached the Abettor from behind, deciding to turn around and look behind me to prove my point. See? Nobody there. I'll walk out of here with no apparent strings attached. What does he think he's doing! If there is anything he had demonstrated to me, it's his intelligence.

 

As if in response to my demand, my mask glowed. I blinked.

 

Whaaa...

 

For the briefest of moments I saw something.

 

It was a mass coming from the end of the hallway, out of the doorway where the downward stairs started. It wasn't anything defined, nothing particularly solid, no definite shape. It didn't walk, it just simply... floated near the ceiling, cruising at a slow pace. It was as though something shifted, an object morphing or altering its projection as it went from the bright light and complicated patterns of the Vault room to the rugged, uneven, darker stone hallway, as if it was matching itself to what was behind it and attempting to do it as seamlessly as possible. Like a complicated ripple on a glassy surface before becoming glassy again. No sooner had it past the threshold into the dark hallway did it vanish from view, as if nothing happened or it never existed.

 

It couldn't of been more than two, three seconds, but it was enough. I saw something there, but what? My eyes never moved to follow, my face still, contemplating this event. What was that? What could possibly be around here that could or would attempt to hide itself from observers? Particularly something that came from the Vault - but the only thing in there was Zaktan and his four Rahkshi...

 

My mind in response to these queries dredged up some information long buried, stuff stored away for use at a later date. Reports of the Makuta's creatures when he ruled the island. The Maru's accounts of his lair when they entered. The cataloging of the Rahkshi bodies that attacked the Koro's while the Maru stormed his castle. The hunts taken by Toa and others to find and eliminate these beasts that happened before Stannis sent me away, even things I picked up in Legend... the gears of my head cranked furiously as I rapidly came to a conclusion: that bright yellow one. Rahkshi of Chameleon.

 

He sent it to follow me.

 

In an instant everything made sense. His sudden change in demeanor after the discovery of my identity falsehood; his candor when dealing with me afterwards; letting me leave with a new toy apparently on good graces... that was a farce. He wanted to know who I supposedly worked for, who I was possibly associated with... learn my secrets. Of course. That was his plan. The string attached. But even as one riddle was solved, another presented itself: how did I manage to see it? Had I not turned around at that very moment, I would have missed the transition. Even looking I still could have completely missed it had I not been staring directly at the door and at the angle I was at, the light perfectly reflecting out of the room to provide interference with changing patterns. The chance of that happening was simply...

 

I mean, the probability of that happening was quite...

 

... probability of...

 

...

 

Duh.

 

The Kanohi Angitu, the Mask of Probability.

 

I lazily turned around towards the Abettor, sweeping my eyes briefly across the space. Nothing. As irritated as I was, it made sense. The mask had granted me a starting gift, a chance to figure out what was going on. Yet even though I knew it was here, I couldn't see it, despite throwing my will against this mask to make it visible again, give me another chance to spot it and possibly take it out now before it became a bigger problem later. The hallway was too dark, and unless I could somehow flood the room with light I would never see it, it's chameleon powers perfectly blending itself with the surroundings. In fact I would probably never see it down here, considering how minimal the lighting was, and once I got to the surface I had no doubt it was going to keep a good distance away, again making it nearly impossible to spot.

 

Besides, how long had I been wearing this mask? Thirty seconds? There was no way I understood all the little nuances of the Angitu. Sure, I knew it allows its user to alter the probability of a situation, used to increase the chance of a certain event happening, or lessen the likelihood of something else occurring, but that didn't mean I understood how that worked or why it worked. It had taken me months of training with Agni to harness the full power of my Kakama, and another year and a half to be a master of it to the point of being able to dodge a shot at point-blank range. Two years. Verses a minute. It... would take time. Maybe once I figured out how it ticked I might be able to pull what I wanted to happen right now, but currently that was not about to happen. The mask gave me a tip I was being followed, but I would be unable to do anything about it for the moment. Which sucked.

 

I fumed a little bit as I stalked towards the machine guardian.

Edited September 20, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[25K Now!]

IC: Savnung

 

Rebuilding wasn't an easy task. But Savnung was going to persevere, even though clearing a large rock away was taking quite the toll on her Matoran body.

 

"Anyone capable of helping me?"

[ARROW404]

IC: The recluse

The silent Toa came to the Matoran's aid, having finished creating their shelter. With his wild-hardened body, he hefted the rock with ease and looked questioningly at Savnung, wondering where he ought to put it.

[25K Now!]

IC: Savnung

 

"Ah, thank you. If possible, could you move it just over there?"

 

She gestured at the small clearing.

[ARROW404]

IC: The recluse

He nodded and did so, quickly returning to help out some more. To help move things along, he employed some vines as well. He still remained perplexed as to why nobody had even seemed to acknowledge that he had joined them out of nowhere.

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Kini-Nui Temple complex; interior

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

It only took a moment to pass the Abettor unopposed, though I had to stop once I reached where the hole downwards... because there was no hole.

 

Just a pool of blackness.

 

Wonderful. Juuuust peachy...

 

Apparently that Rahkshi of Darkness was up here, using it's power at the top of the stairs. Why, I didn't know - I couldn't see. But I could still hear, but between the din of combat and the terrible acoustics of echoes bouncing off the walls it was hard to tell who was down there and what was going on. What made it even more strange was the distinct lack of talking; I figured there would be at least shouting between people, but so far I hadn't heard any distinct voices besides the other Skakdi and the hisses of the Rahkshi directly in front of me. In other words I had no relevant tactical information on the battle below, giving me no insight on how to help or hinder either side.

 

The lack of verbal commands was what disturbed me the most. Either these guys were getting stomped, or this was a team that knew how to work together... this was going to be really good or really bad.

 

No way for me to know until I dove in.

 

I hesitated one more second before I charged into the darkness; my tail. Whatever I did I needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible. I couldn't reveal my true identity, nor did I dare lead Zaktan's spy to anyone personally close to me - not until I could either permanently shake it or destroy it. Which limited my options both right now and where I could go, let alone do.

 

Curse you Zaktan...

 

The only current option would to keep playing Dor... Dorian. A thought streaked across my head like a bolt of lightning. An idea.

 

Drawing my disk launcher I took a quick breath and charged in.

 

Instantly the world went black as I entered the area of darkness, but I was prepared for that. I could feel myself pass between two Rahkshi, my shoulder plates barely scraping their waists as I ran low, one arm outstretched before me. One, two, three steps and I was at the edge of the staircase, in that instant the chamber bursting into my field of vision as I passed through the field of darkness.

 

And came face-to-face with Ahkmou.

 

What saved both of us was my outstretched hand. Instinctively I reacted, simultaneously grabbing and tackling him with an audible "Oof!" as we both flew off the staircase and into open space. As I spun I finally got a good look at the battle below, unable to believe my eyes. It was Sulov, Reo, and Leah engaged with battle with the Skakdi called Hakann and his swarm of flying minions, along with the Lesterin Arvun I had met not an hour ago. Sheer numbers dictated my friends were on the losing side, though as my eyes darted about it was currently too close to tell... except for that Rahkshi of Fear currently laying into Reo and Leah. As much as I wanted to directly help I remembered my tail, so I still needed to act in character as much as I could to hide my real identity. And hope the Maru were smart enough to pick up on the act.

 

Cue the Calvary to the feisty Ga-Toa.

 

Twisting to face the ceiling I fired my launcher, the disk with the rope still loaded inside. With a solid thwack it embedded itself into the ceiling, as the line pulled taught making sue I had a solid grip on both the Matoran AND the weapon.

 

"Meet me in Ta-Koro." I whispered into Ahkmou's ear.

 

Like a swashbuckler out of some old fairytale I came swinging down from the ceiling, a Matoran in one hand and a battle yell in my throat. With a shove I tossed Ahkmou away, his landing more gentle than it looked as he rolled away safely from the battle and out of harm's way. The moment my feet hit ground I cut the cord and started to slide across the floor in debonair fashion, reloading my launcher and twisting to face up and at the Rahkshi of Feat that was trying to lock down the couple. With a sassy smirk I fired, even if the disk not hitting the closeness of the proximity of the shot would break the concentration of the vile creature. With practiced ease I slid up and between Leah and Reo, coming to my full height right behind the Toa of Water. With a pose I started to reload, clicking my teeth and winking at her, making sure to play up the fact that I had just "saved" her from this wretched beast.

 

"Watcha name, princess? I'm Dorian Shaddix, best merc this side of the Endless Sea. Got any plans after this scrape, or can I heroically take you back to my place? It's just as wonderful as I look."

 

I wonder how she was going to react once it processed that I was hitting on her...

 

OOC: just remember guys he's wearing that new mask so he looks a little different...

Edited September 21, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

Now with a wall of silence surrounding them, the loud deafness enough to drive pain into ther skull, the two rushed the rahkshi of silence, taking the opportunity to blast where the Kraata was held with a wave of scalding steam... Hopefully enough to cause serious burns to the rahkshi's "driver" as they lunged forward for "surgical removal".

[25K Now!]

IC: Savnung

 

"So, when did you turn up anyway?"

[Vezok's Friend]

IC (Leah):

 

Suddenly, a red and gold figure emerged, no - burst - out of the veil of shadows currently enveloping the gate. The figure turned out to be a Toa and quite a resourceful one at that. Within the span of a maximum of ten seconds he'd used his rather advanced-looking disk launcher to create a makeshift swing rope, dodging the Rahkshi, carrying a Matoran to safety, throwing off the Rahkshi of fear from another attack-run before landing and sliding up right next to her with a scoundrel's grin that was usually reserved by Reo for special occasions. The only thing that could have perfected the picture would have been him sliding up to one the pillars just to come to a stop in a casual leaning pose.

 

"Watcha name, princess? I'm Dorian Shaddix, best merc this side of the Endless Sea. Got any plans after this scrape, or can I heroically take you back to my place? It's just as wonderful as I look."

 

Leah kept her eyes on the Rahkshi, only sparing a glance for her 'rescuer'. Her Ruhaku's display flashed, highlighting the Toa in orange for a second as he said his name before shifting back to a very strong teal-green, that occasionally shifted into violet. He wasn't an enemy but he wasn't who he said he was either. Not that he needed to. The colours, the athletic figure, the flashy display, his voice...some people you didn't easily forget, even if they had literally vanished into legend and changed their face.

 

Why is it, that whenever you show up and invite me to your place, the Maru have to fight a bunch of Rahkshi first?

 

She didn't quite know what he was going for with his spiel, but knowing him he probably had his reasons. Besides, right now she had more important things to worry about.

 

"You struck me more as the lone ranger riding alone into the sunset type. How about heroically lending a hand first?"

 

The Toa of water was constantly twirling her staff. Not super rapid, but fast and constant, keeping a momentum in the movement that could translate into powerful elemental blasts at an instant and the Rahkshi were still waiting for an opening, trying to wear down her defenses. But between them, she spotted another of the Makuta's sons with its eyes fixated on Sulov. Drawing upon remembered guard reports and their thorough cleaning of these chambers, its colours indicated Rahkshi of mind reading.  Their brother had brought more Toa as company but they were beset too by the other flying monsters. The Rahkshi had the superior numbers, which also meant the Toa had to maintain situational awareness, not to get hit from behind. Time to turn things around a little. 

 

Calling upon her element, Leah concentrated for a second, then the floor right beneath the mind reading Rahkshi's feet split, rock, earth and stone blasting upwards, carried by an extremely powerful fountain of groundwater. 

Edited September 21, 2014 by Vezok's Friend

[Silvan Haven]

Hormd Gronjkr- Kini Nui

 

IC: "He joined us right after we spoke to that rather unpleasant being in the tower." Hormd said from where he was rolling a large rock.

[25K Now!]

IC: Savnung

 

"Oh."

[ARROW404]

IC: The recluse

He blinked at the matoran. So she genuinely had not noticed he hadn't been with them the whole time? Strange. He almost smiled, were his facial muscles not so unused to expressing emotion. To answer the questions of why he had come, which some must have been wondering, he held out his hand and conjured a flower. Two large, fused petals swirling around a single stamen and two anthers, the petals creased in the center. A perfect reflection of the three virtues, imbued in a yellow flower. Mata Nui lives.

[25K Now!]

IC: Savnung

 

"What is the flower for?"

[ARROW404]

IC: The recluse

One of his eyebrows rose. What was any flower for? He bent down and placed it on the ground, letting its roots dig into the earth amid the red grass. Like many of his creations, the flower was a message. As the moss stated that Makuta destroys, the red grass was a testament to the carnage of war, the flower a pledge of his faith in the Great Spirit. He pointed at a carving of the three virtues on an undamaged portion of the temple, then placed a hand on his chest. 

[25K Now!]

IC: Savnung

 

"I really don't understand the symbolism. Other than it's related to the Three Virtues in some way?"