Bzprpg - Po-Wahi

[pokemonlover360]

IC Yasurek- Walking with the crew:

 

Lohkar felt a hand grab his shoulder. Looking down to his side, he'd see Yasurek, hood down, looking right at him. "Captain Lohkar Sir, if I may be so bold, let me tell you that you don't need to feel so down." Before Lohkar could respond, Yasurek continued. "The thing is, yes, Xa-koro was a home away from home for us. It was a place where we could walk in the open without fear of guard attacks. Yes, it was a place that thematically fit our piratey nature. But at the same time, it wasn't our home. It wasn't where we went to at the end of the day, it wasn't where all of our friends were, it wasn't the only thing that we had in the world. We still had the 'Vika. The Infernavika is our home, it's where all of our lives are. Without it, we wouldn't be anything. We wouldn't be a crew, or pirates, or a family, and I say family because as you should know by now, nobody on this island has your back as much as the rest of the crew and me do.

 

"Without Xa-koro, we're still who we are. We still have everything we had before, and even if we can't go into every town without trouble, we still haven't angered every village. So it's fine. Xa-koro was a loss, but not the greatest loss we could have. You say that we've lost people like us. I'll have you know that regardless of who they were, there was nothing to be done. In fact, it was a miracle we got out of Xa-koro before it went. The thing that separates us from the victims is that we have each other. There were many good people lost, but we don't want to lose you too sir, certainly not to depression."

 

He paused for a moment, trying to think of what else to say.

 

"... Lohkar, I don't want to lose you," he added after a pause, dispensing with his usual formalities when addressing Lohkar. "You're my friend, my captain, and a part of my family. My life is here on this boat with everyone on it, and I can't let you destroy yourself over this. So, as a recommendation from your trusted midshipman, don't let it get you down and cheer up. We have adventures and pirating to do, and we need our captain to do it. So let's go out there and show the world that nothing can get us down." He grinned, truly a rare expression for him. "What do we have to worry about? Whatever it is, we can do it, together."

 

OOC: Inspiring Yasurek speech, activate!

Edited December 14, 2012 by pokemonlover360

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

Lohkar listened as Yasurek spoke. Some part of his mind was amazed at the insight his midshipman suddenly revealed; another small part reminded the other small part that of all his crew, Yasurek was one of the ones he trusted most and that it shouldn't be so surprised.

 

The vast majority of Lohkar's mind, however, ignored the smaller parts and was caught up in the Ko-Matoran's words. And more and more, he realised that Yasurek was right.

 

The captain removed the Arthron from his face to look down at him, then got down on one knee so his face was at the same level as Yasurek's. Gradually, a small smile crept onto the Lesterin's mouth.

 

"Thanks for remindin' me, mate," he said softly, his eyes suddenly gentle. "It's not easy to lose so much, but we mustn't forget what we've still got. An' I know that I 'ave the best friends I could've asked for."

 

He rose back to his feet, and the fire returned to his eyes - but this was a fire of new resolve, of righteous anger.

 

"But I also can't forget what happened at Xa-Koro. Regardless of what I lost, it shouldn't 'ave happened. That wasn't just murder, that was genocide an' whoever's responsible 'as the blood of hundreds on their hands. So I say, let's find out who did it, an' make 'em pay!"

 

Lohkar began to march determinedly forwards. The sea was just about visible in the distance, and so was the rocky outcrop that concealed their moorage.

 

"Let's show whichever Piraka did this what 'appens when ya cross the Infernavika!"

[25K Now!]

IC: Lasinia

 

Lasinia nodded, her eyes full of determination. "Got it, captain."

[sunflower]

IC: Aelynn

 

The Toa of Iron crossed her arms, and sat back into her chair, glaring at Auron. She may or may not had been a sore looser, considering the Toa of Fire was atleast three drinks ahead of her at this point.

[AuRon the champion]

IC: Auron (Bar, Po-Koro):

 

And with that, the Toa of fire collapsed, much to the surprise of the bartender.

[sunflower]

IC: Aelynn

 

The Toa of Iron promply burst out giggling, standing up from her chair any moving over to the Ta-Toa. Slipping her arms under Auron's, Aelynn hauled him up, stil unable to stop giggling. It may or may not had been the drinks. "Hellooooo," she said, titling her head and frowning as she waved a hand infront of the Toa of Fire's Kanohi.

[AuRon the champion]

IC: Auron:

 

"Not fair..." He mumbled, "You sat down after I fell over..."

[Ghosthands]

OOC: Timeskip, time we were back on the 'Vika

 

IC (Lohkar)

 

There was a whistling from over the side of the Infernavika, and the crewmembers on deck turned to see a modified-looking grappling hook fly up and latch onto the rigging. It was shortly followed by Lohkar, as the Grapnel Gun rapidly reeled in the cable.

 

His blue boots thudded onto the deck.

 

"All hands on deck!" the pirate captain barked.

[sunflower]

IC: Aelynn

 

"Is to fair!" she said, adjusting herself slightly as she held onto the Toa of Fire so he didn't collapse again..

[Cadias]

IC: Tellus

Once again, his plans for finding Mimira had been foiled by the person he had been searching with going completely silent. Tellus had returned to the ship, wondering why it had happened twice in a row. Oh, well. He wasn't too worried about Mimira anyway- she had probably just joined the shore party.

 

Tellus jumped, surprised by the Captain's unexpected arrival. After a quick glance over the side to confirm the fact that Mimira was indeed safe and accounted for, he said, "'Ello, Cap'n. What 'appened to tha stowaway?"

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

"She decided ta take a nap," Lohkar replied. "With a little encouragement."

[AuRon the champion]

IC: Auron:

 

"Let's just... Go find a inn..." He murmered.

[pokemonlover360]

IC Yasurek- Infernavika:

 

Shortly after Lohkar had called out to the crew, Yasurek managed to finish climbing his way up onto the Infernavika, because some people did not have a grapple gun to make it really easy. "You want to let the crew know what we found out in town, captain?" he asked Lohkar.

[sunflower]

IC: Puroruk [Hut, Po-Koro]

 

Two brilliant yellow orbs of fire burned in the midday sky, their blistering heat beating down on all those open to their harsh light. The heat sapped the strength of many of those not used to such temperatures, and forced many more to stay indoors while they were directly overhead. All but one Matoran.

 

The fellow in question was large and burly, built like the miners of Onu-Koro. His hands were large and callused, but they delicately gripped a hammer which was being precisely swung onto a carving chisel held in the other dark grey hand. Each strike produced a sharp note that echoed across the open courtyard in which the being was currently located. His brown and bronze form sat hunched over a slab of reddish-brown stone. Half of the rock was intricately carved with seemingly meaningless cuboid shapes, while the other half seemed to be in the proccess of being crafted.

 

Stone was repeatedly being set against chisel, each echoing note signifying another portion of rock released from the boulder, another step closer to the completion of the piece. A bead of sweat slipped down his Kanohi's brow ridge, he blinked it away. Dust caked his armored hands, while the back his neck was damp with sweat as a result of the sunlight which wasn't entirely blocked by his fedora. Another strike, and another piece of stone was chipped away from the slab. It seemed like a hopeless task, and even the most experienced carvers would consider giving up. But not Puroruk.

 

It would get done when it got done. Rushing would skew the result, and the piece would be finished sub-par. Giving up meant failure and a half-way completed work, Neither were options that would be considerd by the Po-Matoran. There was a reason why his work was sought after by those who appreciated hidden meanings and complexity. He worked on the piece for however long it took to complete. Given the fact that most of his works were almost always part of a larger statue, thus having to fit together perfectly, it could take a very long time for him to complete it.

 

But when he did, the results were almost unparalleled. His current project was part of a larger fountain requested by a wealthy tradeswoman in Ga-Koro. The entire fountain, when properlly assembled on-site, would be one of his larger works to date. Constructed entirely of stone, the top portion of the fountain was designed to open and close like an artificial flower depending on the amount of water present in the bowl beneath it. Conceptualizing the mechanism to do so was no problen, as he had done a similar work earilier. The problem was the sheer size of it, which added strain on the mechanics.

 

It was a problem he had worked around, given time. As the slab of rock continued to take shape, this would eventually become the base, Puroruk contrantly checked for flaws. Even a strike a few centimeters off target could possibly ruin the piece. It all relied on perfection. Hidden in the shade of one of the walls that surrounded the open courtyard stood the top protion of the fountian, somewhat resembling the evergreen trees of the Ko-Wahi tundra. If they were completely made out of stone, that is.

 

Directly in the center of the slab he was hunched over was a circular hole, one that would fit the "stem" of the stone tree. Because of the sheer size of the stones being used, the fountian had to be divided into sections that a team of ussal crabs would be able to haul. This further increased the complexity, but that meant it was more expensive. And widgets were certainly good for business.

 

No?

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: It wasn't long after Ambages left Le-Koro on his hired steed and driver that he told the rider to route to Po-Koro instead -- Ko-Koro was just a ruse to throw off any suspicious people who wanted to follow his trail. The De-Matoran didn't think it necessary but did it on a whim, thinking it a quirky spin on things, a practical joke of sorts. Really, anyone who thought Ambages was all schemy-weamy and no-nonsense was just wrong.

 

The flight lasted through the night and into the morning hours, until the suns shone down on the desert of Po-Wahi and lit it up with a spreading canvas of reds, browns and yellows that flowed out like a flood under the wings of the Gukko. Chilly wind turned to warmth as the suns gave heat to the cool desert. Ambages glanced at his dial to tell the time; it was a scant past the bottom of the circle. They would be at Po-Koro a quarter turn later. Reclining in the saddle, Ambages simply watched the pretty canyons come into view, looked down into their crevasses and said goodbye to the sandstone castles one by one. Goat ranchers moved from one small settlement to another, their shadows cast long and dark against the dunes they trod. Herds of wild Rahi bounded as armies of tumbleweed in the wind, dust tracing their paths. Despite the monotony of the view, Ambages found it pretty and exciting just the same, and he was enthralled by the view for hours until Po-Koro was in sight.

 

He was there on a business trip, but not for his typical architectural pursuits. While the man he was there to meet was a designer like himself, it was not a physical entity he was crafting. The man he was to meet was an artist, but the meeting was not scripted. It would be a little until he decided if he wanted to make the man his partner.

 

The Gukko landed in Po-Koro and Ambages paid the driver his lump of widgets in a small pouch and shook his hand, thanking him for his flexibility. He left the landing pad and went about the town. Not one to enter a bar and ask questions (it gained too much attention), Ambages thought of better ways to find his man. The quarry only gave the rocks to the carvers; they wouldn't know where he was, per se. Hewkii was too busy, obviously, though Ambages thought it would be funny to be speaking to a man so fervent in the Faith of Mata Nui. Instead, the architect opted to find the man he knew would offer no trail: Ahkmou.

 

The trader had connections to the Makuta, Ambages knew, a connection that assured his trustworthiness. Or lack thereof, depending on the way one looked at it, but Ambages was willing to put his doubts aside. "Hello," he greeted as he entered.

 

"Hello, and welcome to my shop!" Ahkmou replied. "Oh," he said in recognition and lowered his voice as he looked about suspiciously. "It's you. How can I help?"

 

"I'm looking for a certain Puroruk," Ambages said as he slid a handful of widgets to the waiting hands of Ahkmou.

 

"Hmm... Refresh my memory?" Ambages repeated the process. "Ah, yes, the carver who works out and uses a heavy hammer. Yes, I don't know where he is."

 

Ambages simply handed the bag of change over. Ahkmou gleefully took it and smiled. "You'll find Puroruk just by the edge the village on the west. He has a small shop by his big house."

 

"Thank you," the architect said with a smile in turn. He stopped at the rack of wares before leaving, though, and glanced at it all. Picking up a carving hammer and chisel and a Senet board and slipping them into his satchel he nodded to Ahkmou, who gave his approving wave, before slipping back into the hot sun. He left his overcoat behind in the shop.

 

Ahkmou was many things and right was one of them: Puroruk was right where he was directed. The burly man was hard at work on one of his sculptures, just as Ambages had learned to expect from the dossier on the man. He unabashedly stepped into the carver's workplace and gave his salutations. "Puroruk! Hi, we haven't met before. I'm Ambages."

[sunflower]

IC: Puroruk [Hut, Po-Koro]

 

The thick man straightened from his hunched posture over the slab of stone as Ambages spoke, the suns' light glinting off his bronze armor as he turned towards the other Matoran. "That we haven't and that you are," the burly Po-Matoran replied, his deep voice unsurprising given his build. He had heard of a Ko-Koroan architect by the name of Ambages, a skillfull being who was known to keep to himself, but he didn't know much more about him. Not enough to say that the man before him was the same person, but Puroruk was willing to bet on it.

 

The Po-Matoran rose onto his feet, setting his hammer and chisel aside before reaching for a cloth. Wiping the dust off of his armored hands with it, Porurok held a large hand out to Ambages, stuffing the cloth into a pocked on his armor. "It seems you know my name, Mr. Ambages," he continued, "Might I ask why you're here? Would you like a stulpture done, perhaps?"

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Actually," Ambages said as he fiddled for the hammer and chisel in his satchel, "I was hoping we could create together." He gave a gentle smile to assure the carver that he knew what he was doing. "I will confess, it has been a long time since I carved. But in my earlier days I did my own sculpting of models because I found the people I hired didn't do my imagination justice." He presented the tools of the trade like jewels. "I'd like to think I still have some skill left. With your permission, I'd like to see if my pride is right to trust my fingers."

 

It had been a long time since Ambages carved, but the skill he retained was not important. Even if he absolutely sucked at it then it would allow him to speak with the carver on equal terms. The equality of the speakers was paramount for civil discourse, and more notably it allowed for friendships to bud more easily. Ambages had to try and become friends with this stranger without forcing himself in, and his smile and humility only could get him so far. There was a certain strategy for unlocking a man's heart and getting a look inside, and Ambages knew how to do it without getting under people's skin. It was an art that allowed him to keep the Peers together loosely, to build his architectural empire from the dust it came from and even was letting him snare Niici in a web of deceit. If it worked on such grand things, doubtless it would work here.

 

"We can talk while we carve, too," Ambages said with the most honest look one could ever see. Because, if only for that one sentence, Ambages was being honest: He did want to talk while carving.

[sunflower]

IC: Puroruk [Hut, Po-Koro]

 

A smile spread across the large Po-Matoran's broad face at the mention of creating something together. It was rare that anyone offered to work with him, as opposed to just watching him work. The carver didn't mind one watching, but skill was obtained from actually doing. "Why of course. I would be delighted to work with you, Mr. Ambages," Puroruk replied. "Let us find out how well your pride is founded."

 

He knew there was probably something more to this. Despite the many jokes of the amount of rocks in their heads, Po-Matoran weren't stupid. Working together and shaping the smaller intricacies to fit perfectly into a larger picture was the carver's life. An amount of skill was needed to be able to create the smaller pieces that came together into a functional finished work. It was skill that Puroruk had. The burly man knew how to identify those smaller pieces, to visualize how they would come together and work towards a common goal. And not just in carving. Such a skill could be applied to many different things, from a Kohlii game to say... A conversation. It was the little things that made a big result, and it was Puroruk's job to create those little things.

 

The bronze Matoran got his tools in hand once again, stepping aside slightly to allow Ambages a view of his current project. The intricate cuboid pattern covering half the slab seemed hopelessly complex and random to an untrained eye, but not to Puroruk. And hopefully, not to Ambages. "It is a four point radial pattern," the carver explained, "I have completed two points, here, and here."

 

He moved his hand over the two corners of the squared piece of stone. Now, individual patterns were beginning to take shape, where one was able to see when one pattern started and another ended as Puroruk pointed them out. The fact that they were all the same pattern seemed to reduce the complexity of the piece, but at the same time, it didn't. Only those with an equally sharp mind could truly appreciate the depth of the carver's works.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "A repeating design?" Ambages said in passing as he admired the work so far. "What is this going to be?" he asked.

 

Puroruk answer was something about a fountain and a tree and a flower, but Ambages just nodded through it as he raised the chisel up to the stone and began to pound, flaking stone off chip by chip. At first the pieces were jagged and in shapes unintentional, but it was not many tries until the architect regained his comfort with the tools and angled his chisel correctly. Then the pieces seemed uniform and rounded, as they should be. "That sounds great," Ambages said of Puroruk's narration of the sculpture's plan. "Who commissioned it?"

 

"A tradeswoman in Ga-Koro," Puroruk answered.

 

There were only a few people who were tradeswomen in Ga-Koro and wealthy enough to want such a thing, and he was sure it wasn't the small-time shopkeeper Okoth. The answer the Po-Matoran gave was a good as naming a name for Ambages so he left it at that. He continued to work at his own pace, but while slower and more methodical compared to the carver it was still good work, at least as far as Ambages could tell. They continued to exchange small talk as they carved.

[sunflower]

IC: Puroruk [Hut, Po-Koro]

 

Eventaully, Porurok held up a large, dust covered hand, indicating Ambages to stop. The Po-Matoran slipped his hammer and chisel into the workbelt he wore around his waist, while his orange eyes flicked over the carved piece of rock. After a moment, another smile broke out over his broad face, and the burly man turned towards Ambages. "Why, I can safely say that your pride was indeed well founded," he said, glancing appreciatively at the completed base of stone, "You are quite the carver. Few have such a knack that you do."

 

"Would you like anything? Tea, perhaps?" the bronze-armored Matoran asked, not forgetting his role as host. Later, the rest of the fountain could be prepared to be shipped by ussal and assembled at Ga-Koro... But for now, Puroruk wated to take the time to talk with Ambages. He was, to say the least curious about this man. While Porurok had certainly enjoyed carving with him, he couldn't help but feel there was more behind this visit.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Tea would be fine," Ambages replied congenially. Puroruk led him into his house, a large affair that seemed to be inhabited by statues and carvings in the courtyard. The square dominated the center of the house, leaving only the walls and balconies for living, giving the impression of being more like an art gallery or a museum than a residence, though Ambages pondered whether it was both a studio and an ode to the builder. It was dusty and the floor was covered in sand from the carvings made, lending to a scratchy sound made as the men walked through the statues.

 

They stepped up a staircase to the balconies that encircled the courtyard, and Puroruk proved to be a capable host, offering Ambages a seat at a small table and bringing the refreshments out. "So, please, tell me, what did you come to visit me for?" he asked as he took the opposite chair. The view from the balcony was twofold, one side giving an aerial view of the courtyard while the other side had a round window that looked into the Po-Koro streets. It was nice and homely, somehow, despite the presence of work all over.

 

"You are right to think I had other purposes in mind for this visit," Ambages said and he tinkered with the tea. "As an architect, I admire art in all forms, particularly in design. Often I spend a lot of time gazing at the work of other artists and nature, gleaning as much inspiration as I can from it, but furthermore trying to understand how it is the way it is. The details, I've found, are very important." The architect had to be careful in his working. If he dominated the conversation it would disrupt the equilibrium he set while carving outside. By that moment, Puroruk had gauged Ambages to be an equal. Breaking that notion would decimate the art of diplomacy.

 

But more importantly was the fact that Ambages had to be completely assured that this man was the man he was looking for all along. Not the characteristics of the person himself but the intricacies inside, the details he held... His philosophy. So far he liked what he saw, but he needed to be completely confident. Once he made the choice there was no going back.

 

"This desire for understanding things led me to have an infatuation for conundrums. The things we can't understand at first are, after all, the only things that can further our understanding. I have since created a group of puzzle enthusiasts to investigate these riddles together and even make our own. I imagine you and I are not too different; do you like riddles, Puroruk?"

[sunflower]

IC: Puroruk [His Hut, Po-Koro]

 

The Po-Matoran listened to Ambages speak, thoughtfully nodding every so often as the architect coninued. He was showing plenty of attention to be interested, but not to the point where it looked as though he was expecting answers. "Very much so," Puroruk replied, the mention of a group of "puzzle enthusiasts" grabbing his attention. "For they sharpen one's mind, just as one sharpens a blade. The sharper it is, the more effectively one can use it."

 

It was sound advice, advice that Puroruk followed and tried to apply everyday. Yes, Ambages was right, it seemed they weren't very different after all. Both of them were craftsmen, artists, creators of grand things. In their own way, of course.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "I was hoping you would say that," Ambages said. He sipped at his tea "We're interested in admitting you to our club, and part of the recruitment is asking you a couple riddles. Would you be interested in joining and hearing the riddles?"

 

"Why certainly," the burly carver replied, "I would be honored to join such a group. Please, ask away."

 

"What is power?" Ambages asked as if requesting the whereabouts of a Mahi herd.

 

The Po-Matoran considered for a moment. It was a simple enough question, but the simplicity gave it an inner complexity. "Power... Is the ability for one to largely affect situations. Everything has an effect on subsequent events, but power comes when one can direct those smaller changes towards completing a common goal."

 

"Very good," the architect said with a nod of approval. The second riddle was the true riddle, the gate that would allow the carver admittance. It was a test of understanding of power itself, a trick to dscern where power truly was held. "Next one:

 

"In a room sit three great men: A turaga, a priest,and a rich man with his gold. Between them stands a sellsword, a little man of common birth and no great mind. Each of the great ones bids him slay the other two. 'Do it,' the turaga demands, ‘for I am your lawful ruler.’ ‘Do it,’ says the priest, ‘for I command you in the names of the Great Spirit.’ ‘Do it,’ says the rich man, ‘and all this gold shall be yours.’ Who should the sellsword kill?"

 

This the Matoran of Stone took longer to consider this one, playing with different ideas. He did not over think the riddle, as that would lead to false results, nor did he pick the first that came to mind, as one's instincts weren't always the best to trust. A minute passed before Puroruk started to speak.

"If the sellsword were to agree with the rich man, he would be doing so out of the love for money. His loyalties are on shifting sands, and there would be nothing stopping him from turning on the rich man should he receive a better offer. No, killing the rich man would be best. The priest uses the idea of another, higher power, to win the sellsword's allegiance. His reasons are there for weak, if he must use the idea of another to obtain his goals. The Turaga, however... The sellsword should not kill him, for he is his leader. One who obviously obtained such position not through money or ideas, but from work to gain the loyalty of the sellsword. Loyalty that is solid and unmoving, for it is loyalty in a person, not gold."

 

"And who holds the most power of the four?" Ambages asked further. "Is it the turaga?"

 

"No, it is not. The sellsword holds the power. He alone has the power of choice, to go with the Turaga, priest, or rich man. It is him who controls the situation."

 

"You have answered well," Ambages said after he finished his tea. "I would say we have gotten to know each other quite well today, Puroruk. My tests completed, I think you would be perfect in the club. I have just one more question for you, though, and this is not a riddle, though your answer has a great deal of importance."

 

"Please, ask," the carver replied, having thoroughly enjoyed this conversation with the architect, evident by the small smile on his face. It was rare that he had the opportunity to have such an intellectual discussion. The fact that he had been offered to join such a group also worked to lighten his mood quite a bit.

 

"You don't really think there is a Mata Nui, do you?" Ambages asked with identical casual bliss. Mentally, however, he imagined the carver giving the wrong response, forcing him to grab his dagger from the crevice in his armor and slay the carver before he could reach for his heavy hammer. Power, Ambages knew, was the ability to change lives for better or worse, and at that moment he was the one with power over the Po-Matoran before him. Puroruk's fate lingered on a thin line, and the slightest doubt in his tone or answer could trigger a murder.

Ambages waited patiently, however, not betrayng his thoughts.

 

"Mm," the large Po-Matoran agreed. "I believe in what I can shape with my own two hands, what I can strike with my hammer, what I can chip with my chisel. Anything else has no place for me, nor any belief from me." He was a material man, others could go on about Mata Nui, but not him. For what he could see, touch, and create was the only thing he could be sure of.

 

"If I told you we could create a world together and do away with the supertitious fools about us, would to create with me?" Ambages asked, relieved that he did not have to kill the good man. By then, he knew, the carver would be smart enough to know this wasn't just a riddler's guild he spoke of."Create something as we did before? Without a doubt," the carver replied without a second thought. If there was one thing that went far with the large man, it was having an equal skill, and love for, creating. Although the question was largely unecessary, Puroruk asked it anyway. "This isn't just a group of puzzle enthusiasts, is it?"

"Hardly," Ambages replied with a smile, but said no more. He plucked a piece of flax parchment from his satchel, still sealed with wax, and handed it to Puoruk across the table. "Guard this until tomorrow night. Open it then. The instructions and directions to our guildhall are inside. I look forward to seeing you there."The Po-Matoran picked up the piece of parchment in one of his large hands, slipping inside a pocket on his armor. "Likewise," he replied, nodding to the architect, "I thank you, Ambages, it is not everyday that I get such good company.""The honor is mine," Ambages said, getting up. "Unfortunately, I have to go now. I will see you soon. Oh -- and it goes without saying that this remains between us alone. Speak of this to no one," he said as he walked down the steps to the courtyard.

 

"Of course," the Po-Matoran replied, nodding in understanding. Purorok stood up as Ambages did, and lead the other Matoran to the door.

 

It was only an hour later that Ambages had given his tools back to Ahkmou and collected his coat, though he held on to the Senet board, and cheked in at the town's most illustrious hotel. He would remain in town, observing it with high alert, before leaving to the "guildhall" thirty-six hours later.

[NorikSigma]

IC: FeranFeran followed the others through the desert, and into Tiro Canyon. Things had changed since his last visit, and a large metal hulk(Jhianil) lay on the floor of the canyon. There were now five layers of guards at the canyon mouth, and it was only through Flay's authority that the guards let them in.Feran looked around. Statues were all over the place, and although the Bazaar, the biggest on the island, was crowded as ever, everyone seemed more... scared and less warm.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

Lohkar nodded to Yasurek.

 

"Xa-Koro's gone," he said bluntly.

[sunflower]

IC: Puroruk

 

The suns were setting, their fading light casting long shadows over the land. Beings were beginning to move indoors as the cold fingers of the desert night began to slip their way towards the Koro of Stone. Puroruk had gone over to his workplace momentarily to lock it up, his huts being some of the few in the Koro that did actually lock. Well, Puroruk was a careful man. He didn't worry about anyone being able to get in, as the locks were of his own design.

 

The large Matoran was seated in a seemingly wooden chair. It wasn't actually wood, but stone carefully carved to look it. It had been one of his first large projects, and the results were quite amazing. A bit of dye, and the illusion was complete. The bronze-armored Matoran needed a bit of time to think, to go over the days events. And quite a lot had happened that day, most of it unexpected. His yellow eyes flicked over to the piece of parchment Ambages had given him, the small note still closed. The carver had a feeling things would happen tomarrow, and it wasn't just that he was shipping the fountian.

[Cadias]

IC: Tellus

 

Tellus grinned weakly for a moment, hoping it was a joke. When Lohkar's expression didn't change, he knew.

 

He knew it was true.

 

"Wha.... what happened?" He was shocked. Xa-Koro had always been there, always. No matter what you did, how hated you might be, you had a place to call home. And now... now she was gone. He also felt a cold chill. He hadn't been there long ago. If he hadn't rejoined the 'Vika's crew...

[- JL -]

IC: Flay

 

The wreckage of the original Jhianil was weird. Her team had hung around it for a rest stop, and she was grateful for the Po-Matoran's military. That was what happened when things get sucked into Black Holes, which was apparently what had happened. Even the light of the sun couldn't escape this power.

 

Was this the power that she and her team had to face? They were just matoran; How could they face against Toa who, despite fighting for the light, created with their powers weapons that removed light from it's surroundings? Fear surrounded her, and she could only pray that allies would appear in their travels.

 

Twists and turns never seemed to leave her alone, though. She knew that some parts of the Jhianil, which might've been important, were missing, and that the matoran could not seem to replicate perfectly what was left of it, most notably the anti-gravity propulsion systems, which no longer worked under the strain in had been in when it had resisted against the absorbing force of a singularity. But this massive ship, and sheer wreckage it had done to Po-Koro in such short time - and the highly possible chance of another arising - was no longer of her concern.

 

Message had gotten here that Xa-Koro had been sunk. News of the Le-Koro attack by a Xa-Koroan military secured this fact. The sheer destructive power that people had in this world, and her team had to oppose it.

 

She wondered why there wasn't an easier path to this. Of course, there would be one, but then......

 

The Po-Koro military were afraid. Xa-Koro still had 2 ships of armor, and it had possibly been sheer luck that the ILF had landed there and assisted. So much evil in such little time, Flay would actually have had admired the way evil got things done.

[NorikSigma]

IC: FeranDespite the ominous feeling the wreckage gave, what with the extremely twisted metal and the weird weight of several pieces of debris, the resourcefullness of the Po-Koroans could be seen in the fact that the locals had set up local bazaar stands to cash in on the new local attraction. Feran bought some lunch from one of them, satisfying his rumbling tummy.

[Geardirector]

IC: Baranx

 

Baranx observed the twisted wreckage, his sharp eyes almost finding something poetic in the cold steel glimmering in the sun. It certainly was a well-designed weapon of war, he couldn't deny that, but he also couldn't deny that he was pretty tired of war and fighting by now.

 

He looked over at Flay, who appeared deep in thought.

 

"A widget for your thoughts?" he asked with a chuckle.

Edited December 19, 2012 by Geardirector

[- JL -]

IC: Flay

 

The Matoran of Fire sighed. There was now nothing that she could hide from her team; Keeping it a secret would do nothing more than allowing them the chance to find out later, or themselves.

 

"Xa-Koro, the Kumu Islets, they've been sunk. Blown up. Sucked to the bottom of the sea. And the surviving remnants have decided to attack. Le-Koro was recently invaded by the Xa-Koroans, whose reasoning was that WE blew up their home."

 

She kicked at the sand beneath her feet.

 

"Le-Koro survived, but there is fear in our ranks. Many Toa-Heroes emerged there, and the bulk of the remaining ILF were there as well." Burying her face in her hands, she sighed. "There are some who fear that their village will be attacked as well, and that they won't receive enough support. From Gukko Force intel, apparently they still have 2 ships sailing the seas. It's only a matter of time."

 

She continued on her news.

 

"Ignoring the amount of craziness and fights, it appears we have a missing Gukko Force Commander. A Toa of Air, too. Certainly something we should look in to, should we have the time."

[Geardirector]

IC: Baranx

 

"Quite the heavy load she was carrying"

 

Baranx was well aware of the attitude that the Xa-Koronans harbored towards the mainland islanders, but he'd never expected it to turn to war.

 

The again, having your home blown up by inexplicable means often made you want to have someone to blame, it seemed the Xa-Koronans channeled their hatred of... essentially the rest of the world, into their mourning of losing their home

 

Baranx sported an expression somewhere between a smile and a frown, as if he was both pleased and angered by Flay's news.

 

"So, where do we come in?" he asked, gesturing to the other team members.

[Constructelf]

IC TuroTuro blinked. "Xa-Koro... destroyed?" he finally asked.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar/Hahkes)

 

Lohkar tossed Tellus a copy of the Mata Nui Daily.

 

"It's all in there," he said grimly. "An' not just Xa-Koro. The entire Islets. Swallowed up by the ocean. People reckon it's Makuta's doin', but even for 'im, that's pretty destructive. They're saying the death toll was pretty much one 'undred percent..."

 

"Gone?" said a voice from behind Lohkar. He turned to see his fellow Lesterin, staring at Lohkar with a frown. "How can Xa-Koro be gone?"

 

"I don't know, mate..." Lohkar replied, his voice apologetic. "I'm sorry about the Black Spot..."

 

"Gah, who cares about one inn, even if it was my pride and joy? Think about all those people, Lohkar...so many people, just gone. Not all good, not all innocent, but they were all people...and they're all gone..."

 

Lohkar put a hand on Hahkes' shoulder.

 

"I understand," he said. "Artahka knows, I understand. An' I promise ya, mate, I'll find out who did this an' we'll avenge 'em."

 

He turned away, leaping up the steps to the helm.

 

"An' we're not goin' ta do that by just sittin' here!" he said. "Weigh anchor! Prepare ta set sail! Gunner - some wind in the sails, if ya please."

 

With the crew heaving on the ropes and the First Mate providing his elemental thrust, the Inferavika picked up speed, shooting out of the cave entrance like a bat out of Karzahni. The sleek ship sliced through the waves, with Lohkar's determined hands on the wheel. Lohkar didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew where he was going to look next: the nearest village to what used to be the Kumu Islets: Le-Koro.

Edited December 19, 2012 by Ghosthands

[AuRon the champion]

IC: Nei:

 

Well... There goes the neighborhood. She thought. If the Kumu Islets were gone, then things were really starting to heat up.

 

Nei wasn't sure if she wanted to be part of this group, but she hadn't really been with them long enough. She wasn't really allowed to make opinions about anything she hadn't done yet.

[Cadias]

IC: Tellus

 

It took a few minutes for the pirate to decipher the article. After he did, he simply felt shock. "All the Islets.... gone." He took his much-beloved hat off of his head, wondering who could be so evil as to destroy an entire village in cold blood.

 

Placing his hat back on his head, Tellus joined the rest of the crew. "Aye, Cap'n. An' when we find 'em, they won't know what 'it 'em."

[They]

IC: Kughii

 

I wish I had some quality Xian pain meds to knock her out. The kind of thing injected via needle or pump action shotgun; not these less than savory salves from Faerulo, stink bomb extraordinaire, which only kept her mouth moving like a beached carp in mosquito season.

 

Day one of crossing Po-wahi by foot.

 

Possibly the worst idea I’ve ever had.

 

 

He slipped in the dune, baggage dangling over the lip against the current of the rising winds. The twin suns flickered in and out, in and out, the rising haze of particulate matter clouding the very light they gave. A massive wall of damnation slowly moved in the distance, approaching like some ancient creature of the sea, intent on reducing all biomass to tiny, molecular particles of inorganic protodermis. Liikyra’s sharp eyes stared from her prone position on the improvised sled, deducing the time, angle, and rage of the approaching behemoth.

 

“I think we need to find shelter with the desert winds moving like this, somehow, I got a bad --”

 

“Stuff if L-love. I don’t take orders from a plank.” Big words, but the vortixx was already hauling sprockets across the desert, sprinting with his powerful legs towards an outcrop of boulders off to the north. The sound was like a city of glass houses being thrown into a galactic blender. He was a gangly insect flashing across the ground; to a gukko rider nothing more than a suicidal psychotic plunging headlong towards death with a religious fervor. Tumbleweeds were the vanguard, followed by berserk pebbles and stones the size of a toa’s head. Kughii pulled himself and the sled into a wedge between two massive rocks.

 

“A cave would have been --”

 

“No TIME for a cave, princess!”

 

Typical sandstorms. Banged flurries of rock and dry fluff bleaching your body to a mirky grey tan. Had a couple of those. Like chucking back two shot glasses full of EP. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, ya know?

 

Sand swirled past like a torrential flood, rahi bones flashing past in pearly blurs. Gripping the tarakava hides like a scaly cape Kughii jumped on top of the sled, creating an organic shield for his toa charge, elbows digging into the rickety structure next to Liikyra’s shoulders. Everything was dark, hot, and musty. Sand flipped through from time to time, slowly building up like a snowdrift.

 

It’s really not so bad if you have a place to duck into and sing drinking songs, preferably with a well-figured vortixx ready erode your panoramic vocabulary to a few select grunts. Of course, I picked the baggage with a sense of satire, and a cozy cave was about as prominent as getting dubbed “Vakama” on Name Day.

 

****

 

With a burst of muscle and a scream of warrior energy the sands billowed upwards, rolling outwards in a rippling ring, fresh air rushing in to relieve the two travelers. Kughii coughed a wheezy hack and tapped the sand out of his mask by banging the prop against his knee. Desert sifted out the corners of his armor, creating a light crust in the moist corners of his mouth. With a disheartened grunt he tossed the scabbard and sword back on the sled, weapon landing heavily on piled tarakava hides.

 

“I’m going to hurt you sooo bad, just wait until I can move.” Liikyra muttered, threat dripping sheer poison. Her normally silver and black armor was now a rough hewn tan, as if Kughii was no more than a carver with a talking piece of sandstone.

 

“Oh, shut it L-love.” He gripped the chords and began the journey once more with his rock in tow. “I just saved yer’ life.” Their past was gone, erased by the sand storm. As he resumed the journey, parallel grooves birthed from the ground, a dead give-away to their direction: east.

 

****

 

“We just keep going east. What’s the big deal? Don’t you have ANY plan?”

 

I wanted to explain explain the multitude of reasons why I was cutting straight through the sands and not stopping in Po-koro or taking a water taxi from the coast to Ga-koro, but, honestly, I felt like my image as a genuine BA needed a good ego polish.

 

“Ya. That, and try not to die or ditch you in the desert,” Kughii shot back, his eyes scanning the horizon through the lenses of his mask, voice scratching out like an ancient record through the air chambers. Sometimes I seriously wonder why I’m such a nice guy...

[EmperorWhenua]

Ooc: Bad Company and the 120 warriors from Xa-Koro from Le-Wahi. (Yes, that felt awkward to write.)

 

Ic: It was high morning on the day after the sinking of the Kumu Islets that the two ships carrying the army recruited from Xa-Koro's toughest and strongest people landed on the northern shores of Po-Wahi. The arks slid into the soft sandy beaches and their bows fell away, allowing the people inside to spill out like grains of sand from a tipped bucket. They were the immigrants, the remnants from their wrecked city, returning to the land they were forbidden from for centuries.

 

They were eager to place their feet on ground not considered unclean, on a property they had almost forgotten existed. The standing orders to Jin from Aurelia before the latter left was to let them relish their newfound freedom. But as they all partied, relishing in dipping their feet in the warm sands, Brykon and Liacada arrived on the steam trawler that trailed the ark's wakes. It spouted smoke from its belly and churned water efficiently but was purposely the rear guard. Brykon had been watching, like a good captain of the guard, for Aurelia.

 

He wasn't happy when he saw the electress leave her army early and the salute he gave her was half-baked, delivered because of the money he was paid, not loyalty. He was even less pleased when Jin handed a note to him, still unsealed, bearing Aurelia's gold seal.

 

The rest of Bad Company gathered around, though Dorian seemed more stoned than he was before and Jin seemed to have seen better days. Grokk was barely stifling a laugh while Sev was patronizingly stark, as usual. Illicia and Marfoir were normal. All in all, the typical team of rowdy murderers. But as Brykon ripped the metal seal off the flax paper and read the message, he turned and walked away without saying a word. The tough cigar-chomping alcoholic was obviously distressed.

 

And Bad Company stood, not knowing what to do.

 

It was several moments before the colonel returned with the crumpled note in hand and waved for the others to follow him to a secluded place in the shadow of a canyon's high walls. Be was pensive then, seeking to choose words deliberately and carefully. "This paper... bears the orders for this army. ... And for us," he said. He paused again before raising the note and flattening it between his hands and reading part of it. "The army is to reside temporarily in a canyon fortress located at grid 2V on map number 4," he read. "The true barracks have unfortunately not been completed; this nature-made fortress will provide safety and fortification for the time being until a more suitable castle is created. The sergeants will assume direct command of the squadrons with Bad Company members serving as warrant officers and commanders... It goes on to state appointment of command structure is left to me," he said, looking back up to the others present.

 

"... But it also gives orders specifically for us. And what I read distresses me."

Edited December 20, 2012 by Littlefinger

[otter]

IC-Marfoir:

 

"Holding it back isn't very helpful," Marfoir said, quickly taking his rifle back from the girl that Brykon had taken with him a while back. "No matter how distressing, we're still being paid to fulfill them. Unless it involves more danger than even this team could handle, then the first part of our orders ought to be released."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Marfoir taking his rifle back from Liacada snapped the commander to address the issue of his sudden new companion. "Everyone, this is Liacada. She will stay with us for now, though like with the rest of you, I don't think we can remain a team after this order is given," Brykon said. "This mission puts us in more danger than ever before, but the threat isn't physical as much as... not physical."

 

He inhaled deeply and slowly ejected the air as he summarized the orders.

 

"The six Turaga of the villages were kidnapped long ago and given Parakuka. The Island Liberation Squad [^sic] held them close in their base, but after Pala-Koro was ransacked the Turaga remained untouched. They are being delivered to their villages as we speak. Our mission, as dictated by Aurelia... is to assassinate them... all six of them... in their towns. As simultaneously as possible."

 

There was a quiet in the team after this and Brykon fidgeted with the paper in hand before crumpling it again in his tight fist. "We just came from a mission in which we helped people gain happiness and then sentenced them to death. Before then we fought a spy organization and managed intrigue in Xa-Koro. But now I should say that this mission, killing the venerated elders of this island, is still only a part of the plan we are supposedly a part of. And in the wake of this... unexpected mission... I'm not certain we can continue our presence. I may serve in the employ of Aurelia and her fellows, but I cannot, will not, speak for the rest of you.

 

"I present to you a chance... and a choice. Here I have pouches of gold and protosteel. This is your payment for services done lately. I will give you assignments, a Turaga to kill, in groups of one to two. But while I assign them, I do not care if you decide not to carry the job out. I do not care if you leave the team. But if you finish the task and return to meet here, I will be able to give you a payment of your desire, whatever it is. We are mercenaries, but money can only buy so much of our souls. The choice is yours."

Edited December 21, 2012 by Littlefinger