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Tyler Durden

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IC: -The Great Temple-

Something was wrong, Wraith could feel it in his bones. The Dasaka had noticed it before he did, but he had a feeling of what this was. Could it really be though?

When all karz broke loose, Wraith knew what was happening. Makuta...he's back... There could be no doubt as the earth shook and the wind raged on. Wraith was quickly on his feet, using his elemental power to create a shield of ice to block anything flying towards him. 

When the storm and quake suddenly ceased, Wraith knew for a fact that the dark one was once again free on Mata Nui. There simply was no one else who could have caused such a thing. "So, Makuta has returned..." Wraith said out loud among the Dasaka and the others, it was unclear if he was speaking to all of them or just thinking out loud, as he rarely said much. 

Seven, please be safe.

IC:

I let myself sob into Kale's shoulders, there wasn't any point in trying to save face. I'd always been one to act like everything was fine, like I could handle anything, even if on the inside I felt otherwise. 

But now, after everything that had happened? I just couldn't keep it in anymore. Krayn was missing, possibly dead or seriously injured, and it was my fault and I couldn't even do anything about it. I felt so useless, helpless. How was I supposed to move on from this? 

"I...I don't know what to do anymore..." 

OOC: @Silvan Haven

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Kale Ironshaper- Ihu-Koro- Hospital

IC: For several minutes the only sound coming from the pair was the quiet sound of Skyra's sniffling. Kale was silent as she cried into his shoulder, rubbing her back and allowing her to use him as an emotional pillar. It felt good for someone to rely on him, made him feel more like the person he tried to be. When her sobs settled down and she could at last speak again he listened quietly. Thinking on his reply for some time after her words faded from the slightly chilled air. When he finally spoke his eyes shone.

"Become better."

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"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

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IC [Rhow -The Great Takea]:

The tavern was a mess. Her kitchen was a fighting ring, it’s door was missing and the seating area had become an interrogation room for the Marines. And the Skakdi owner was happy - the place was busy. 

She turned to the fidgety Matoran and his companion that had spoken to her about adding and changing some of the items they offered.

“You know what? Sure, I’ll add those to the menu. First time someone’s come in asking for that ever. ‘S good hearing from folks.” she said in her typically rough Zakaz fashion. “You want a drink? I got some Po-Wahi cactus juice in the cooler. Fresh off the boat last night.”

OOC: Mobile post so no colors.

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IC: Dehkaz (Ko-Wahi)

They made it. Strangely enough, the blizzard that had besieged the mountain fortress of Ko-Koro had fallen away not too far from the Koro itself. Given the force at work there, Dehkaz wouldn't be entirely surprised if it wasn't a natural storm. They had made great time to Ihu-Koro, even with the added weight of two extra passengers slowing Naona down.

Dehkaz did his best not to think about the toa they were currently escorting. They would make it. For now, he focused on keeping his hold on his friend and not getting tossed off the side. The landscape around was a white blur; he never quite got used to traveling via Kakama; but they knew the way.

The three Aggressors stopped just outside the Koro's gates, dashing straight into the village would've been risky enough, and the village was already accepting scores of other people from Ko-Koro. A quick word from the guards at the entrance had directed them to the hospital. Dehkaz had taken Krayn off his companion's hands, partially to give Naona a break after the mad superspeed sprint through the snow, partially to keep their friend stable as they made their way to the hospital. Using his elemental power he held Krayn aloft while they jogged beside him, the unconscious De-toa gliding along almost peacefully. It was unnerving to see him that way.

"We need a healer--quick!"

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Where to Iggy?

    ˹STAR WARS: INTERREGNUM˼   ˹EXO-FORCE˼   ˹BZPRPG˼

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IC: Cipher-The Great Takea

It may come as a bit of a surprise, given my rough-and-tumble occupation and general inability to stay in one place long enough for any legal documentation to hit me, but it turns out that I've actually got some decent calligraphic skill in my wheelhouse. My guess is that it came from the notes I'd taken over the years on the trot— if I could read and write information down legibly at a decent walking pace, then a little more artisanality and a sure, steady hand didn't seem too out of the question when I was at rest.

Accepting the stylus from Private Anach, I quickly and clearly wrote out Cipher Compassrose upon the signature field of her iStone, nodded once she sent me on my way, and slid out of the booth.

Yes, that is my name.

No, I'm not being ironic. The Great Spirit, sure, but not me. I had to live with this.

It honestly was something I was self-conscious about for a long time.

I frowned as I spied my semi-unattended halberd, exactly where I'd left it— propped against the window within the recesses of our previous booth. Arero had initially parked us there when we re-entered. Probably didn't want to risk me forgetting it in the commotion.

I didn't either, so good on him. I couldn't shake the feeling it was about to see a lot more use. If not during our upcoming journey to Ta-Wahi, then soon afterwards. Something big had happened. Something big was about to happen. Something big was happening.

Something big that I'd need to be very, very ready for.

I really hated these types of premonitions. Caution was to be expected in my line of work, mild paranoia understandable, but a tingle at the back of my spine and a sudden dryness of the throat that screamed 'foreboding' to me... I have good enough instincts to stay alive in the wilderness for a long, long time. I'd been tangential enough to destiny to learn that they couldn't be ignored flat-out. When they were, everything went tits up. People died. To ignore that which was larger than yourself as it worked around you was tantamount to willingly sticking your hand in the gears.

It felt like they were moving again.

I hoped my friends were okay. I got a terrible sense that they weren't.

Most of all, I hated that.

"Yeah, think I'm more parched than I first realized," I replied with a mild clearing of the throat as the owner offered beverages. Whatever vibes I was getting, I couldn't let them show right now. We'd just finished up a battle, plenty of people were still rattled— being Ga-Koro, it was fewer than you would expect, but nonetheless. Things were in the middle of smoothing back over. Don't #### with that. "It'd really hit the spot."

I exhaled for effect, hiding the shudder I wanted to accompany it with.

Besides, it was probably nothing. Even more powerful than my instincts was the story of my life, after all. Things happened in defiance of the senses.

Whenever those people were in trouble, fate usually had a way of leading me to them. I've been a guy who you could never find if you were looking for me, but would always show up in the right place at just the right time. It's happened enough that I squarely believe it'll happen again.

Anthyn.

Xa-Koro.

Trust in it. You have to, Ciph.

Be ready, but trust in fate's work.

Otherwise, everything's going to Karzhani, and you can't do anything about it.

Edited by Razgriz
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helo frens

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IC:

Become better. Twice Kale had uttered these words. They were simple, only two words. But they cared more weight than any babble a psychiatrist could ever come up with. 

I looked at Kale, wiping my eyes and nodding. "I will...I..." 

"We need a healer--quick!"

I knew that voice...it was Dehkaz! That meant he must of found Krayn! My body started to move on it's own as I tried to climb out of my bed, Kale was likely going to try to stop me but I didn't care, I had to see him! 


My Bzprpg Profiles, Marvel Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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IC | Yumiwa Umbraline

I couldn’t help but scamper if not dead run away from the datsue Awintour and her “galleria” in an act of unbridled childish glee. I knew these hallways and promenades like the filigree of my armor and charged through them in an exhilarating burst like a spring finally let loose from its box. All I could feeI was the air brush past my face, all I could hear the telltale flutter of my silken clothes, and all I could see the clear pathways ahead of me. Than and Iglia trailed behind me with exasperated laughter and my Hogo guards, hardy warriors that they were, maintained their formation around me with effortless drilled precision, but I could barely register all their footfalls or cries for me to hold up.

Because once again, I felt free.

It all reminded me of times in my youth when Des, Hana and I would create our own small gang we called—okay, really just Hana…—the Fearsome Threesome. We were young, Des was eager to explore and do anything that wasn’t just being cooped up in her apartment, and we all had that childish curiosity that was socially unabashed and innocently mischievous. We wanted to do it all, see it all, and Zuto Nui help anyone who thought they could stop us. Truth is, we were stopped, more often than not, but the times we could get away with our antics were the stuff of legend.

After family breakfast, Dad would go off to the Towers of Knowledge to instruct at the military academy, and Mom chilled with us momentarily before kissing us on the head and moving on to perform the duties of the rora, leaving us under the watchful protection of our chaperone: Master Inokio. “Watchful” was both a strong trait of his and a responsibility we regularly tried to foil, and it would quite often lead to misadventures across the Palace. Breaking away from Inokio’s presence was hard enough, but the man was an unstoppable force who seemed to be as omnipresent as he was omniscient. If we were somehow able to evade his pursuit long enough to make it to the populated throughways we typically could make our way to whatever our destination was, and then we’d get away with exploring the Gardens or ride soko for a while before Inokio would discover us and drag us by our ears back to the royal apartments. Oh the thrills we had, the three of us, committing our petty crimes, evading the guards like some game of hide-and-seek with the whole of the city as our playground, harkened back to a simpler time when we were together and whole.

But Awintour was not a relentless pursuer like Inokio. The Hogo were not chasing me down but cloistering me. I hadn't gotten a forehead kiss from my parents, I wasn't a child, and I wasn’t joined by my sister and best friend. It wasn’t the same. Nothing was. 

My pace slowed to a halt and I was momentarily dazed, my joy drained. We’d made it halfway to the Markets but did not have the vigor to run the rest of the way.
There is a doctor and crafter shop I spied out long ago,” I finally said to my companions. “She has a shop near Soraya’s, by the stonemoss plaza. I noticed her shop’s displays when Inokio took me to the markets my first time and liked them. I want to start there and see what she has nowadays.

“What’s the name of the establishment?” one of the Hogo asked. “We can scope out the path ahead and help find it if we know, Majesty.

I nodded once, thankful. “Bausch and Lomb’s.”

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 BZPRPG Profiles / BZPRPG Rules and Index / Pictures Topic / NM Q&A 

"... Even you, EmperorWhenua, you stupid beautiful contrarian, you." —Tyler Durden

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IC: Arero

“I’d take some too, thank you,” I reply after Cipher. The bar owner seems genuinely happy. Nothing bad came of sharing my menu suggestions and yet I still feel like I did something wrong. Accepting cactus juice is the least I can do. While she goes off to gather the drinks I turn back to my traveling companion. There’s a bit of wood shrapnel parked in the folds of his calix. It’s amusing to see him so rugged and so oblivious.

“So, you’re not strangers with everyone here are you? Also, you got something in your calix. No, no, not there, look at where I’m pointing on me. No, your other left. Yeah there. Yep, you got it.”

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IC: Cipher-The Great Takea

I hated it when fragments of things got in my mask and I didn't feel them, on a much less somber and more irritating note. Probably got that one from my trips down to the floor of the establishment, passing through our erstwhile foe's huge frame while going for the legs. On one hand, it didn't hurt. On the other, it'd make a guy look dumb for hours.

Good I had Arero here to catch these things for me. Flicking the splinter away idly, I leaned back and folded my arms.

"Well, that depends on how we define 'stranger'. I tend to think people I've fought alongside and I are at least acquainted, but..."

I glanced back over my shoulder. Looked like we had an arm wrestling contest about to start up.

"Only one I've met before just now's Onuzek. He was with the group that dove down to the Xa-Koro ruins— you know, the one I'd thought was just a treasure hunt. Good guy. Big. Nice. Not too bright, but he's someone who you can work with."

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helo frens

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IC: Arero [Ga-Koro, The Great Takea]

I remember. Cipher has good stories about his time diving for treasure in Xa-Koro. I wonder how the island would be today if Xa-Koro hadn't sunk beneath the waves. Of course, like most of Cipher's stories, everything goes terribly wrong and everyone is terribly lost before Cipher swings in and saves the day in the end. Maybe it's destiny. Maybe it's exaggeration. I wonder if traveling together will lead to a story of misdirection. I hope so. Getting lost sounds terribly exciting.

Onuzek is still talking with the crystal covered toa from Kentuckit. I don't want to bother them. "So, um, Ciph... Am I wrong in thinking he's not who you were looking for in Ga-Koro?"

 

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IC: Cipher - The Great Takea

"You're not. He was just a nice surprise."

Getting familiar. Well, I guess he was starting to read the room of his talks with me. If it lead to some confidence down the line, all the better. The meek may inherit the earth, but it helps them to have the assuredness to put it to good use afterwards.

"I was hoping I'd find Dorian. Day's still young, so it might still be a possibility— Let me worry about that, though." I explained, getting the sense that somehow my oratory skill had been called into question. "We're here because you've got friends that mighta come out this way, right?"

Edited by Razgriz
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helo frens

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IC: Arero

I may live under a rock in Onu-Koro but I know who Dorian is -- if Cipher is talking about the Dorian Shaddix of recent fame. Anyone who opened a newspaper in the past few months knew the mercenary’s name. Cipher’s story from our first meeting comes back to me. He was searching for friends who had gone ahead. Dorian had gone ahead. Who did they leave behind? Why? What was Cipher really traveling for? Was there more to his silence when I asked about toa Joske? I’ll trust him to tell me when he’s ready. For now I’m his matoran compass. I appreciate his company. At least he's not bad company.

“Hopefully they’re here or in Ta-Koro. But now that we’re here I realize I haven’t thought about how to actually find them. Maybe she knows if Ga-Koro is housing refugees.” I nod toward the Marine at the bar. I saw her reach into the Ta-matoran’s bag earlier. She pulled out a glowing rock of destiny. I don’t want her to reach into mine. There’s a small book labeled “Reeds and Rushes” that’s actually about a certain Akiri of Ta-Koro. It’s banned in Ga-Koro because of a few choice pages. I should have left it at home.

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IC: Cipher - The Great Takea

The look he gave me was searching, and I knew I'd made a misstep. It was only due to his innate politeness that he was letting this slide— I could plainly tell that he wanted to press the issue.

Maybe. But not here. Thanks for putting up with it for now, at least.

"That'd be a good call. I had figured we'd hear it at the gate, but that was pretty obviously mistaken. Go for it."

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helo frens

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IC: Arero [Ga-Koro, The Great Takea]

"Yeah. Yeah I can totally do that. It's not like I've talked to more people this afternoon than this month. I'll go talk to the Marine. The Marine with the Marine badge. Be back soon?"

I nod and walk over toward the Marine sitting at the bar interviewing brawlers. Hopefully I don't walk to stiffly. Hopefully I don't look anxious.

Of course I look anxious.

"H-hi. I'm Arero. I'm traveling with Cipher and," the words come out like a waterfall, "I'm looking for some friends from Ko-Koro. I'm not sure if they got out, but I'm trying to find them. Do you know if Ga-Koro has any refugees from Ko-Koro? Somewhere I could look for my friends? My friends are short. I mean they're matoran so obviously they're short. Why did I say they were short? Sorry am I saying too much?"

 

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
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On 10/3/2019 at 10:45 PM, sunflower said:

IC: Onuzek (Ga-Koro, Great Takea)

"Onuzek is looking forward to fighting rocks."

IC: 

Arisaka chucked, she liked Onuzek's childlike enthusiasm, it was oddly endearing. When she realized what she was doing it she cleared her throat, it was rare for her to lose her serious demeanor like that. 

"Tell me Onuzek. Which one of us do you think is stronger?" This had been in the back of her mind since she first laid eyes on Onuzek, and she could no longer resist asking the question. 

 

 

Edited by Snelly
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My Bzprpg Profiles, Marvel Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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Kale Ironshaper- Ihu-Koro- Hospital

IC: Before Skyra's still battered brain could send her to the floor Kale ducked under one arm, coming up under it while the other wrapped around her waist. His ever present ribbon of protosteel accompanied it, providing the emerald Toa a steady base even if she should lose her balance.

"Let me help."

It was only with a slightly awkward gait that the two followed the sounds of Dehkaz's voice. The commotion wasn't hard to track. Most of the frantic activity in the hospital had occurred when the various groups of combatants had fled Ko-Koro some hours earlier.

OOC: @Snelly

Edited by Silvan Haven
Colors
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"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

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IC:

"Thank you." There was a part of me that wanted to insist I didn't need help, but I ignored those urges. I realized that one of my biggest flaws was that I always tried to do everything myself. I wasn't one to ask for help, even when I really should. That needed to change. 

I also realized I would have never made it out of the room without Kale's help. I'd underestimated how unsteady and unbalanced my body currently was, I was glad Kale caught me when he did. Still, it felt a bit embarrassing. 

Not that any of that really mattered right now. All I wanted to do was get to Krayn...

OOC: @Silvan Haven

 


My Bzprpg Profiles, Marvel Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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IC: The Fourth

"It'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay ..."

Whether those words for the sake of others or for herself, Four had long forgotten. Ever since their arrival, ever since the hospital had recruited her into their efforts to help everyone, she had been constantly on the move, attending to the bedsides of all who had been injured. She hadn't a single moment to rest, not even to recuperate with the Fowadi crew that she had fought alongside. She could only give those comforting, reassuring words, provide as much healing as possible, and keep moving.

And it was her who reached Krayn first.

For a moment she hadn't even recognised them. It was only after she dropped down to Krayn's side, drawing out her elemental essence and funnelling it into the badly wounded Toa of Sonics, did the realisation come. And with that realisation, both relief and panic. Relief that he -- with Naona and Dehkaz beside him -- had made it out of the warzone alive, and panic that it would be her actions that decided whether he lived or died.

It was selfish of her, perhaps. Unfair, perhaps, on everybody else she had healed that day. But because it was Krayn -- because it was this stubborn little boy who she had chosen to call a brother -- she put just a bit more effort into it. Channelled just a little bit more of her power over Water. Because she could save him. Because she could stabilise him.

"It'll be okay, it'll be okay," she spoke softly, gently.

Her hands were glowing over his unconscious body.

"You're safe now."

And slowly, surely, health was beginning to return to that Aggressor.

OOC: @Krayzikk

Edited by 25K Now!
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IC: (Mons Shajs, The Great Takea, Ga-Koro)

The cigar was about out, but he needed to savor it, just for a little while. The Skakdi Marine had been sitting on the stool for about an hour now, or was it longer? He nursed his watery bula-brandy and seltzer as he finished absorbing his surroundings. It was his off-time, but he'd spent it thus far watching with bemusement some colleagues interviewing and dealing with the usual kinds of drunks who paid for a least of third of the booze there. One of them seemed a tad distracted, as some other Matoran just walked on over and tried to pester him. All of this was only a few feet away, well within 'I'm a Marine, what's your business, citizen?' range. A ping of dutiful conscience washed over him, a desire to give a little help in one of the more mundane parts of the job. 

Putting out the cigar in a nearby ashtray, he rose and turned towards the Matoran. His head was mostly clear, though his breath probably didn't help his case. Reaching into a pocket in his cloak, he pulled out his badge, an immaculately polished old thing, housed in a ratty, tan leather flip-book. "Eh, you, ya, you, "I'ma Marine, I ken handle yer request" he stated firmly. It came out in a rather jumbled accent, like he'd learned the language as a child, and could only speak it now with a bag of pebbles in his mouth. 

"Ta state, ya, we gotta lot 'o Ko-Matoran, refugees 'an whatnot. That'a bein' said, they tend ta look alike. Who're ya lookin fer precisely, citizen? Can ya giva' more precise description?" 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator. Ok, this new pinging system is odd. I hope you don't mind if I inject myself in here. 

Edited by Mr. House
Expanded a little. And removed a redundant reference to water.
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I occasionally return to BZP for a nostalgic trip back. Hit me up on discord if you need anything. 
 
BZPRPG Characters that I will possibly revive, Mons-Shajs-Tarotrix-Aryll Vudigg-Jorruk Yokin-Senavysh Angavur

 

 

 

 

 

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IC: Kentoku, Sado

Fursic Sydelia thought her life would have become easier once her cousin and ex-clanmate was arrested. Before, she had been assigned by Clan Fursic to a quiet post in the capital, with the simple instructions to keep her head down, serve with the imperial healers, and pass on relevant information every once in a while. But then Relisai had decided to fly the coop, and her forlorn cousins had gotten involved.

Now, orders had come down from Fursic leadership, perhaps even Toroshu Nera herself, to keep eyes and ears out on the Mashtet remnants. Report back. But that had been before the silence from Kozu. Now, she wove through the market, following Datsue Somei buying small tools and supplies. She had seen her going through similar tools, back on Hanaloi. She was getting ready to fix some carvings; not just refurbish them, but maybe even make a new one. Sydelia thought back to her adolescence on Hanaloi, the endless drilling to drive forth the Mindarm talent that, according to Aunt Kaetyo, surely existed within her. Her failure to become a Mashtet Carver had been chalked up to "too much Taajar blood".

And Askha had wondered why Sydelia had broken her carving and knife to join the Fursics.

Ahead, Somei had stopped. The crowd had thinned; they were almost alone. Sydelia realized that there was no way she had been unnoticed.

"Fursic Sydelia," the Datsue stated. It was a matter-of-fact tone, containing none of the acid that Sydelia had expected.

"Mashtet Somei. I see you've taken up carving again."

The Datsue stood unmoving, still facing away. "Yes, I have. I will not be alive forever, and Askha resembles her mother too much. If she is to carry on the Mashtet legacy, it will not be as an artist."

Sydelia snorted. "Askha will lead your band of survivors the way her mother did, and there will be nothing left this time."

Somei was silent for a moment. "How has Sado living been treating you, Sydelia?"

The Menti rocked back on her heels, uncomfortable at the change of topic. "Well enough. I eat, I sleep, I grow herbs, splice them, and when I'm bored I eat them. A third of the courtiers don't talk to me because I'm Fursic, another third don't because I used to be Mashtet, and half of those that are left just don't talk to me. Lots of fun."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Somei's voice was soft. "You know, regardless of what Askha said, it's not too late. You can still come back."

Sydelia forced herself to turn, leaning on the wall. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to. What's done is done. I... I should go."

"You don't have to, you know that."

Sydelia breathed in, her cheeks hot. "I do. Goodbye, mother."

Somei watched her daughter leave, again. It had been the first time she had seen her since the meeting of survivors after the Mashtet disappeared. The datsue dropped her Sighteye, which had made it appear she was facing away. She couldn't do it, she couldn't bear to face the young dasaka she had so utterly failed and look her in the eye. "Goodbye Sydelia," she whispered, adding "may your road take you back to our home." A Taajar saying for wishing good luck to their travelling daughters. The Mashtet wiped tears from under her mask, and continued back to the apartment she shared with her niece.


BZPRPG Profiles


TOA KALTA: Casanuva Vakua Kalyss Skorm Zueya Aelied Cyrix


OTHERS: Denrika Fyura Raiyo Aokora Maeloc Askha Somei Sydelia


"They belong in a museum!"


"So do you!"

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IC (Caerus, Aila — Onu-Koro)

How long has it been? Seconds march into minutes, days muster from hours, and time rolls on like an advancing army—yet the Matoran at his desk is oblivious to the tireless pace. He writes slowly. Carefully. His strokes are usually driven by feverish passion, but tonight he writes with all the time in the wide world. 

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he slows to a stop. He lays his pen down and gently places the lid back on the the inkwell. The parchment lies before him, meticulously marked with lines and dates, each carefully drawn in thick black ink. He stands, looks down upon his work with tired eyes, and frowns. Raises a glass of honey-coloured liquid to his lips. Sips. His other hand plays idly with a chain around his neck, from which hangs a little crystal vial. He is not a man for jewelry, but he permits this one piece. It has not left his breast since he first put it on.

"Having fun?"

He turns at the familiar voice. Smiles. She enters the room like a breath of fresh air and places a gentle kiss upon his cheek. Steals his hand from the vial.

"Is it done?" he murmurs.

She nods. "To the letter."

"Good."

They stand in silence for a long moment, inspecting the parchment together. He feels her eyes trace each letter as if they were his own, like she is an extension of himself. He is a fool, he knows—a fool to remove his heart and place it in such a fragile vessel, and then to send that vessel out into the world and merely hope that will return. But he cannot refuse her. For that, too, he knows he is a fool.

"Finished?" she asks.

"Very nearly."

"What's missing?"

He exhales. "I've collected everything the island knows, but it remembers little from before the Makuta. I was hoping to find a clue to these Dasaka, but I've found nothing."

"Maybe they were never here."

He shakes his head. "They seem to worship a Great Spirit of a sort, like the Matoran, and they bear no small resemblance to our race. They wear masks. They even speak our language. History flirts with coincidence, but doesn't traffic in it. There must be a link somewhere in our past. Either they left us, or we fled them."

The silence returns, and rests over the room a long while before she breaks it again. "What if you find the link? What does it mean?"

He lifts his eyes to hers. "I don't know."

She has never heard him speak that phrase before, even to her. He always portrays himself as a man of infinite secrets, masking his ignorance—if it exists—in sly smiles and half-speech. But tonight, she sees a weary honesty in his eyes.

"The island rushes headlong towards something that I can't see," he says. "My webs are failing me, Aila. They tell me what happens, but they can't tell me what it means. They write the poem, but it's up to me to solve its meaning."

He releases her hand and brings his fingers again to the vial. The little crystalline vessel holds something caught between liquid and vapour, something viscous and dark. "Sometimes, I'm sure this is the key," he breathes. "What powers might it bestow—what knowledge could I gain? Perhaps I've had the answer in my hands all along."

"It's too dangerous," she says. "We've seen its effects, Caerus—you know what it does. It corrupts. It kills."

"Yes," he replies. "But never both. It calls like to like."

"You can't. It's not worth the risk."

They stand in silence once more. The lightstones flicker. The shadows dance in the corners.

"No," he says at last. "It's not. But perhaps, someday soon, it will be."

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IC: Cipher - The Great Takea

This was almost definitely wrong of me, but I kinda wanted to see if Arero could make out what was being said on his own. Let him take another shot at it, at least. Part of the fun of travelling, my friend, is piercing through regionalisms and dialects. It colors the way we communicate with the tones of our cultures, and all that. 

I'm a wandering mercenary, not a worldly philosopher. Maybe if I had a house to learn in, you'd get better material from me, but alas.

Listening in as best I could, I nonetheless allowed myself to recline a bit further into the booth as I kept a watchful eye over the shoulder on the whole affair. I'll admit that I was jumpy after the way today was going, but the badge the formerly smoking Skakdi brandished after catching Arero's attention matched the rest I'd seen today— Marine. Nothing to worry about here.

Probably.

In any case, he and his accent's offer to give us some direction towards the refugees that had managed to escape to these balmy shores was exactly what Arero had been hoping for in the first place. Once I'd cleared the little Giant Toothy Speedbump that threatened our progressed, seemed like everything was going smoothly. At least, it was on our end of the equation.

So listen closely, young grasshopper. Put your big brain to work.

Wait, no, that sounded mean-spirited. You guys know me, I'm not like that unless someone's annoyed me.

Like Skyra did that one time. Wonder how she's doing. Maybe I got lucky and the premonitions are someone using her as a battering ram without me to help. Maybe it's that that I was missing out on. And nothing else important.

...

Okay, that one just is mean-spirited. Sorry. I promise I'm not hanging onto the stickerbook thing.

I'll focus now.

Never got much description on the friends Arero was looking for myself, so this'd be enlightening.

Edited by Razgriz
expansion
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helo frens

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IC: (Mons Shajs, The Great Takea, Ga-Koro)

Slow down, Shajs, these guys aren't the regulars in the Marines. They can't really pierce through the accent...

He consciously tried to slow down, clarify himself. "Are ya lookin' fer anyone specifically, citizen? We a'do got Ko-Matoran 'ere from the Koro, to answer one part'o yer question. As fer the other, I don't know many o'em by name, but I could probably direct ya to a few o' em based on general appearance." 

"Me name's Corporal Mons Shajs, Ga-Koro Marines, by the way." 

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I occasionally return to BZP for a nostalgic trip back. Hit me up on discord if you need anything. 
 
BZPRPG Characters that I will possibly revive, Mons-Shajs-Tarotrix-Aryll Vudigg-Jorruk Yokin-Senavysh Angavur

 

 

 

 

 

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IC:

Reo mentally tuned out at the oncoming wave of Treespeak, and out of the desire to give Leah a sense of privacy. She was a more open person than he was, and she certainly wouldn't have minded the Toa Maru of Ice getting to know one of her Gukko Force squadmates, but Reordin himself was fiercely protective of the privacy of the assorted screwups behind him. His relationships with them were his, and even though he'd done a bang-up job of it, he still would have liked to keep his old friends sequestered from his new ones. To get that kind of leeway from the other Maru, you had to offer it first. 

...

But mostly the Treespeak. His head was already ringing as it was; Skri was drifting off from the group in regular intervals, and he was eager to join her. All he wanted to do was beat the ##### out of something already, feel his axe sink into a Rahkshi's carapace, a Piraka's smile, Echelon's throat...

A mountain, blacker than Ihu and more stable than Mangai, uprooted itself to stand beside him. Sulov's statuesque Kimi blocked out the sun. He raised his shovel to the northeast, directing Reordin - and the ILF behind him - to pay attention to a run-down old building. The occupation hadn't been kind to it; wooden supports in the roof had fallen in front of the building, or into the structure itself. The windows had all been shattered or blown out. Charcoal, as black as Sulov Maru's armor, licked at the wounds left behind on the facade. 

"That's the bar," the hulking Toa of Earth said. His prosthetic was still directing Reo's notice like a vane. 

Reordin blinked, clearly lost. Skrihen, behind them, clenched a fist quietly. 

"Seventh Squadron. Inspection period. You sneaked away from patrol. We toured for bars," the Toa of Earth explained, shaking his old saperka - a memory of his old life, the tool of the Ussalry he had given everything to - imperceptibly. "That's the bar."

Behind the pale ice of Reo's eyes, some glimmer of recognition shone.

"We broke out the Three Brothers," the Toa of Ice said quietly, as if he was worried he was constructing the memory from thin, mountain air. "Yeah. Kol Uskey was asking why it was locked up, and I told everyone, 'Don't get any ideas about that stuff. It's meant for the locals, and if you try and drink it, you'll freeze your ##### to death."

The two Maru remembered the warning in unison. Sulov's green eyes were dull and lifeless, but a certain happiness had cracked the mountain's summit, too. He seemed relieved that Reo was taking over the memory.

The fist slackened.

"And what was his name, ah...dickhead." Reo snapped his fingers a few time, trying to conjure the memory forth like he could conjure frosts. "The sergeant back then."

"Viniau."

"Viniau. He gave me that look like I was trying to ##### around with him or call him a beta or whatever, and you remember what he said?"

"'With all due respect, Lieutenant, I can handle one shot. You've been drinking this like Bula juice all night, and everyone knows you're half-Gukko.'" The two best friends were finishing each other's sentences regularly now; Sulov quietly, matter-of-factly, as if he was uncomfortable speaking in full sentences even for nostalgic purposes, and Reo crowing with increasingly open glee at the memories of his military jock days.

"And he was stupid enough to drink it!"

"Stupid. But deceived. You poured a double shot. Very cruel."

Reo's grin was wolfish, not sheepish; an air of mischief was in his face, and suddenly the wounds across his body, the taut energy in his body was easing up.

"He locked up in that pose, remember?" Reo leaned backwards, body tightening up and eyes widening as his posture went ramrod. "Plag, you should have seen him, ##### looked like he'd tried to spank you and didn't get away with it--"

"He froze all night. Found him in the snow next morning."

"--And...oh yeah! Mata Nui, what was his name, uhh...Tarnok! Tarnok and I were the only ones sober enough--" Reordin was laughing openly now. "--Sober enough to carry him back to my post, and we planted him in the snow! He has the bright idea to him up out there like he was me! On guard duty! I almost went up for a commendation for that, Korzaa told me that she wished all Guards looked that disciplined on graveyard shift. It was one of the only compliments that butch old woman ever gave me, Spirit bless her. I didn't have the heart to tell her."

His laugh died off in a wistful sigh, and he  leaned back against Sulov's arm. The Toa of Earth's enormous body made for a more stable place to relax than half of the damaged buildings in Ko-Koro.

"It was that bar, too, man," he said softly, "God ##### it. ##### Echelon. ######." Sisk's bird was taking off. "Whatever happened to him? Viniau?"

"Still around. Still Ussalry. Guards an office now," Sulov replied brusquely.

"Mm."

The Toa of Earth's eyes cut down to his brother's mischievously.

"Heatstones everywhere," he rumbled.

The dam broke. Reo's laughs restarted, devolving quickly into breathless giggles, the same hysterical laughter that had bubbled out of the mouths of the Maru in the early days, when Reo's biggest concern in the world was tickling Stannis or hazing Korero. Tears started to well up in his eyes, and by the time Leah turned to face them, she was facing Sulov , playing as innocent as he ever could, Reo, so hysterical that he had even started to hiccup, and Reo's assembled strike team, many of whom were looking at their old friend with mixtures of confusion, amusement, and - in one case - relief. 

“Well, babe, looks like it’s a party after all. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

"Wha? Oh." Reo held his breath for several seconds before giving up and hiccuping again. He felt Sulov's shoulders shake underneath him twice, and a heavier-than-normal exhale leave the Toa of Earth. "S-Shut up. Your fault. I bet everyone would hate to figure out what you were like before you learned to swim, #####. Sulov Koskium, clinging to a lilypad, legs like ##### oars slapping the water. Or how about that cute Ga-Matoran girl who finally taught you the br--"

"We should go."

"Yeah. Yeah, we should. Fine." Reo led the march to the warehouse initially, but as the minutes went on, the tracks of the strike force began to cover themselves, and Reo began to let Sulov and Leah take point as he slipped back between Skri and Alfon. The Toa Maru of Ice had failed to bite back a grin.

"He gets shy about it," the lieutenant whispered conspiratorially, "but he's a total heartbreaker."

-Tyler

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whats up doc

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OOC: Trying this tagging thing, @Mr. House

IC: Arero (Ga-Koro, The Great Takea)

“Nice to meet you, Corporal.” I say reflexively. “How to explain my friends…”

How to explain my lack of trust in upholders of systemic injustice? I am an academic bookworm. I don’t appreciate systemic oppression by a ruling class of powerful beings whose original purpose was perhaps misaligned. Punishments are unfair and unjustified in most koros. In Po-Koro, the justice I saw was more of a fascist mob held at bay by a gang of armed toa as protectors of their own self-interest. I moved. In Onu-Koro it’s the highly trained and militarized Ussalry. There must be a better way. Perhaps Kentuckit has an equitable alternative? I have plenty of protections in the koros as a matoran. But do I trust Corporal Shajs or the system he perpetuates? No. I trust Cipher to get lost. I don’t trust the Marine’s smile. I don’t trust the smell of his breath. I don’t trust the little umbrella in his glass that keeps waving at me. We all pick our poisons.

“... Well, I’m looking for...”

My hand hurts. I ignore it. I know there’s nothing there. Answer his question. Answer the drunk Corporal’s question. There’s nothing wrong with being honest. I have Cipher to back me up. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried being around so many strangers just yet. I miss the bench with the flickering lamp in Onu-Wahi. I miss my home with its metal address sign. I miss my friends.

“... an Onu-matoran who was on an architectural tour of Ko-Koro, and a Ko-matoran who runs a tea shop near the Great Sanctum. Oh no. Should I say ran? I hope her shop is okay. It was always so lively inside. Her name’s Kotzu. She’d probably be obvious to spot because she really likes birds. There’s no way she’d leave with her birds. She wears a pale akaku. I got a letter from her a few weeks ago saying business was good, but I hadn’t heard from her since. She had another friend here, a Ga-matoran bird seller. Do you maybe know of anyone like that? Or better yet, is there a place where refugees go to report they’re safe and get housing?”

Edited by Unreliable Narrator

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IC:

I'd been busy in Ihu-Koro, constantly kept running around as one of the few medics or healers available. Thankfully, my mask made quick work of most of the wounds I was treating; I couldn't afford to return anybody back to full health and strength, of course, not with just how many there were that needed healing, but I could set them far enough along the path that they would be able to be active and ambulatory again. Even trying to conserve my own strength as much as possible, though, it was wearing down on me quickly. Using Kanohi didn't have the same drain as using my element or fighting a battle, but maintaining such high focus for so long was rapidly draining what mental energy I had left.

While I was walking from one patient to the next, I heard someone else calling for a healer. Everybody here needs a healer, I thought. Uncharitable, overly grumpy, but true nonetheless; it took a few moments for my tired mind to actually recognize the voice. I'd only heard him a short while before, but the image of Dekhaz running off back towards Ko-Koro to rescue Krayn quickly came to mind. I picked up my pace, coming out to where they were; one other Toa was already bent over the unconscious and wounded Toa of Sonics, channeling her energy into him.

I picked up to a jog, dropping beside them quickly and inspecting the damage. He was pale—far, far too pale for just the cold to be what was causing it—and one shoulder was completely mangled, dried and frozen flecks of blood still around the wound. Everything else was fairly moderate; cuts and gashes all around, minor frostbite of the extremeties, bruising from the madu that had exploded near him. That all I felt comfortable letting the other Toa handle.

I quickly spied the cauterization that had been done within the wound as well. It was messy, such emergency measures often were...but, despite my own disliking of such meatball surgery and battlefield medical practice, it was likely the only reason Krayn had made it back alive. "Focus on the rest of it," I told the other Toa. "This shoulder is probably going to take everything I can give." I raked the wound with one hand, making sure that there was no continuing outward bleeding. Thankfully, he didn't start spurting blood out of the wound; however, given how deep it seemed to be, there might still be some internal bleeding.

Just meant I had to work quickly.

I laid both of my hands over the wound, my mask quickly flaring with light. It was always odd, both seeing and feeling the process of healing, something that should take many months, happening in moments right in front of me. Flesh growing back and closing together, severed and cauterized blood vessels reconnecting and a pulse beginning to force blood through them again; torn ligaments and tendons snapping back into place, drawing the mending bone with them. Witnessing the shifting of tissues further past the entrance wound, as the inward damage was quickly repaired as well.

I had likely poured too much into it. Despite not knowing him very well, or having actually fought alongside him very long, I put more of my energy into repairing his wounds than I had for the others. Perhaps it was because of his efforts to liberate my home, or something to do with his being a guardsman of some sort, like myself; it might also have been, after having seen many of my former allies either die or drift apart, due to my wish not to allow such things to happen again.

As things were, by the time I was finished, Krayn's shoulder was nearly the perfectly un-harmed joint it had been before. The glow of my mask died down, my vision blurring for a moment; when I forced my eyes to focus again, I noticed that my hands were shaking. I didn't even want to think about how much else would be.

"I think I'm done for the day," I mumbled to nobody. "Too much. That wound was ghastly."

 

OOC: @Krayzikk @25K Now! @Snelly @Silvan Haven @sunflower


Trout? Where?

The Otter has finally returned...
Now in North American River Otter format.

Yay!

 

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IC: One Seeking Redemption: Ihu-Koro

He watched the Aggressors see to their friends, feeling a slight pang for people he hadn't seen in some time. Business he'd left unfinished. The last shards of who he was that stood between him and beginning to rebuild.

And he knew what he had to do. Erith stood, shaking his head and walking off, the plated Toa leaving Ihu behind him. Sparks of his past flickered through his mind as he left, the limping pain in his left leg a constant reminder of what he'd done in the interim.

One year past.

“This was always how it had to end, Kai.”

The Bo-Toa groaned from his position on the ground, his senses fading in and out. One of his hands found purchase on the stone floor, attempting to push his form up, shaking from the effort. He didn’t know where his machete had gotten off to, it had skittered across the surface and vanished beyond his narrowing vision.

Rekhan stomped on his back, then his hand, fresh, shooting pain spreading through his chest and arm. 

“Stay down. This is what destiny decrees. You came alone, without your team. You left your charges to face me. You have no virtue, Toa.”

The Fe-Toa drew his foot back and activated his Pakari, kicking Kaithas in the side. There was a sickening crunch--he hoped it was the wooden plates that covered his steel armor, not his ribs or his back--and he was launched across the ancient hall, clattering into the wall and coughing blood. 

Karzahni.

Maybe it was his ribs. 

He pushed himself up against the wall, lying broken against the cold stone surface. Dull pain spread through his chest, through his arm. His leg felt shattered, he didn’t have the heart to look at it right now. Fading yellow eyes looked up at the other Toa--he’d staggered Rekhan, sure, but he was still in far better shape. He gritted his teeth as the midnight black ironshaper walked toward him, willing the wood of his armor to bind tighter around his leg, push the bone back into place--

He screamed. Panted. Looked up again, after managing to wince away the stars in his vision, only to be faced with Rekhan activating his Pakari and grabbing him by the chestplate, picking him up off the ground. “Let’s recap, Maasi. You failed to protect Matoran.”

He was slammed into the wall, another bloody cough coming.

“You caused an entire village to fall to evil.”

Another slam.

“You fled captivity and justice. Then you fled your second chance. You have nothing. You are nothing. You have deserted unity and duty, and in turn destiny has forsaken you. It is my obligation to purge you.”

Kai’s wooden armor cracked in the other Toa’s grip as Rekhan hurled him, hitting the ground and bouncing with another crunch as more of his plates were destroyed. He gasped, writhing and trying to move out of the way as Rekhan pulled out his quarterstaff, twirling it above his head and bringing it down, aiming to break his opponent’s back--

It was over. He couldn’t move, couldn’t muster the willpower to activate his Kualsi and escape. 

No.

There was impossible pain.

No, it couldn’t end like this.

He was alone. There was no one to protect. He could die, and no one would suffer for it. For the first time, no one could fault him his failure.

And yet.

In the stillness.

In the silence of incoming death.

Some small part of him screamed in defiance of destiny.

He poured everything he was into the wood of his armor. The image of a Matoran wracked with pain as she was disintegrated by lightning. The Daedra casting him out as a villain. Tarnok’s reprimand. The months spent rotting in prison. He spent it all. He was no Toa. He had no courage. He was desperate and afraid. He deserved this, deserved his death. There was a deafening crack and moan of fiber on fiber as the Pakari enhanced blow struck down on the last remaining splinters that protected him from paralysis.

But his armor still held. 

Roots sprang forth from the wood, yanking him away from the second blow, tumbling him across the floor. He saw sparks, but he managed to haul himself to his feet, rooting himself into the ground and reinforcing the plates on his legs to remain standing, to avoid staggering back to the floor. He dug the tips of his fingers into his palms, panting with the exertion. He swallowed hard, Rekhan’s head only tilted to the side in mild curiosity. The Fe-Toa had a faint smirk on his face. 

“I have failed, brother. You’re right. Failed at everything that counted. Except one.” 

He willed his power into his right hand, his wooden sword reforming slowly. 

“I have no honor. Have no Toa code. But I reject destiny too. I will not die here, virtueless and alone. I will get back up again, like I always have.”

Rekhan’s smirk vanished, a snarl taking residence on his ebony face as his quarterstaff swung again--Kai gripped his wooden blade in both hands, holding it firm against the swing of his opponent. It cracked with the impact, shatter lines spreading through the wood as their weapons met again. 

He pushed harder. 

Vines sprouted from his armor--binding his body, pushing into his flesh.

The pain brought clarity. The bindings brought motion. 

His shattered bones and fatigued muscles were useless. His mask was there, but it felt powerless. All he had left was that defiant scream, and the elemental power it sustained. He was something less than Kaithas, something less than a being. But he was still standing.

His will puppeteered him, the armor he wore pulling his broken body into action. He shambled forward, roots attaching to and detaching from the ground as he advanced. His blade swung, wide and awkward--Rekhan parried it easily, chunks of wood and detritus flying away--he let go, the blade flying from his grip, his yellow eyes glowing with animal fury as he reached out to the splinters. 

Wood sprouted from them, roots lancing out, grasping for the Fe-Toa. Rekhan stepped back, forming a shield in his free hand and throwing it forward, catching the roots--he spun around behind it, another Pakari enhanced strike coming for the Bo-Toa’s side. It landed with a crunch, more pain shooting through Kai’s ruined torso.

He grit his teeth, pushed again, and in that sinking instant--grappled the Fe-Toa’s staff with the splinters of wood at his side, lunged forward. Thorns sprouted from his fists, poison dripping from them as he finally landed a solid uppercut on the other Toa. Rekhan growled, Kai tackling him to the ground and getting his hands around his throat. Rekhan shoved him to the side, but he’d already rooted in--he raised his fist again, slamming it down into the other Toa’s mask, vines already sprouting up from the ground to bind him.

Rekhan tore himself free, stabbed a shard of iron into Kai’s left hip, stabbed another into his right shoulder. The Bo-Toa could feel his muscles stiffening, locking--but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t using them anyway. The Fe-Toa rolled over on top of him, brought a knife down to stab him in the chest--his blood spurted out--then grabbed him around the neck. A collar of iron started to form, choking him.

His hand lanced out, grabbing Rekhan’s mask, desperately trying to push him away. Vines started to sprout from the palm, wrapping around his face. His narrowing gaze focused on his hand, forcing hemlock thorns out of the vines. They wrapped around Rekhan’s mask, seeking for some fleshy part of the other Toa. He couldn’t breathe, his vision was closing in.

They found it. 

Stabbed in, released their venom.

The pressure stopped.

The collar remained.

He gurgled, grabbing at it, writhing, trying to pull it off. The iron hadn’t formed all the way, yet, he was able to force some wood growth between the gap and start wedging it apart--

Kai gasped as he could breathe, sitting up quickly, looking for Rekhan.

The Fe-Toa had succumbed. His words were gone, the smirk as well--he was lying on the ground, twitching and spasming as the poison coursed through him. His arms moved without intent, without control--iron grew and bent around him, in twisted, warped forms.

Kai forced what remained of his elemental energy into a wooden dagger, pulling himself over to the convulsing Toa with his left hand--then stabbed, finally putting his brother out of his misery. 

He collapsed, in the final silence. 

***

He remembered why he didn't believe anymore. But if that storm was any indication... Someone would need to do something. 

Perhaps he was too flawed to do it. But he had to try. 

He owed them that much. Owed him that much.

 

OOC: And that's a wrap on Kai for the time being and Rekhan forever, putting my first character ever into a worse spot than he's ever been and killing off my first villain. You all are my oldest friends, and I'll always appreciate you. I'll have an ihu post up soon. 

Nick

Edited by A Distant Memory
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IC [Rhow - The Great Takea]:

The Skakdi nodded at the Matoran, then turned and disappeared in the kitchen for a while, then rummaged around behind the bar, emerging a few minutes later with a bottle she used to fill up two mugs. She took the first back to Cipher, and placed it in front of him with a nod. "On the house. For the help." she commented. Returning to the bar, she took the second and served it to Arero, who was inquiring about refugees from the North. She'd heard a lot had wound up in Ihu-Koro, one of the smaller settlements. But that info was old and she hadn't kept up. Too many newcomer psychics running around to pay attention to the outside for her. So no point in joining the conversation.

She eyed the other Skakdi - marine, as it turned out - thinking what to offer him now that his brandy was empty. Then she caught the familiar whiff and reconsidered. He deserved something better. She reached under the bar once more and produced a caraffe - filled with clear, odorless liquid. "That one's on the house too."

OOC: @Mr. House @Unreliable Narrator


 

 

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On ‎10‎/‎8‎/‎2019 at 8:07 PM, Snelly said:

IC: 

Arisaka chucked, she liked Onuzek's childlike enthusiasm, it was oddly endearing. When she realized what she was doing it she cleared her throat, it was rare for her to lose her serious demeanor like that. 

"Tell me Onuzek. Which one of us do you think is stronger?" This had been in the back of her mind since she first laid eyes on Onuzek, and she could no longer resist asking the question. 

 

 

IC: Onuzek (Ga-Koro, Great Takea)

The giant Ba-toa's brow furrowed as he considered the question, a task that was no easy feat for him. Eventually, he gave a shrug of his massive shoulders, clearly defeated by attempting to figure out an answer.

"Onuzek doesn't know," said Toa stated almost sorrowfully, as if disappointed he couldn't think of a way to answer his newfound friend's query, "Friend-Arisaka fights rocks."

Edited by sunflower

Where to Iggy?

    ˹STAR WARS: INTERREGNUM˼   ˹EXO-FORCE˼   ˹BZPRPG˼

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On 10/5/2019 at 7:48 AM, The UltimoScorp said:

IC Luten - Oreius' Hospital room:

"I think I'd like to meet them one day. Do you think I could meet them after they find your mask, Mr. Oreius?"

IC (Oreius) (Inu)

The curtains swayed in the breeze. Footsteps echoed from beyond the door.

"No promises," he replied. "But I'll see what I can do."

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IC Luten - Oreius' Hospital room:

She brightened, both literally and emotionally, and her palms clinked together excitedly a few times, before she too heard the footsteps and gasped before quickly dissipating, leaving only a very sporty Sanok upon the floor.


Corpus Rahkshi Profiles!

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Aza and Ezec Pentaghast


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                                                                                           The Unofficial Guide to TBRPG Combat!

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IC: (Mons Shajs, The Great Takea, Ga-Koro)

Shajs muttered a gracious "thanks" to the bartender, and turned to Arero. He realized at this point yes, he probably seemed fairly sloshed. But the Skakdi had a high tolerance, his poor begotten liver taking its blows with gratitude. There was enough in his system to give a light, pleasant kind of airiness to his mind, but nowhere near enough for him to lose his senses. It would take at least three more to tip him over, unless this was particularly strong. A small swill kind of confirmed it, so pace yourself, Shajs, you're on duty. Kinda. 

The Matoran looked at him with a kind of sullen apprehension, light, barely detectable, but there. One thing about the job was that it let him read people, least to a reasonable degree. He'd give the truth, with a degree of bluntness and as little snark as possible. It wasn't a night to be mean, he figured. The kid didn't warrant it. 

"Ta be frank, it hasn't been a'handled in any coordinated kinda manner,." he stated. "We ain't gotta as many 'o the Ko-Koroans as others, what'o em come get taken in privately, by a couple o' decent citizens. An' an inn or two. I'd suggest ya ask around further, 'an see tha inns ta find refugees in a general sense 'o it."

"As fer the individuals ya mention, I know yer bird seller, if secondhand, 'an nothin else," he said calmly. "I'a think she's still round these parts, business, last I saw, still stood there. As fer the others, I'da point ya to one o the stylus pushers round under the Akiri."

He mentioned offhand a rough address in town before continuing. "Any'a thing else I can do? I certainly ain't a native, but I'a lived here long enough ta point ya in certain directions, an answer least some questions ya might have." 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator.

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I occasionally return to BZP for a nostalgic trip back. Hit me up on discord if you need anything. 
 
BZPRPG Characters that I will possibly revive, Mons-Shajs-Tarotrix-Aryll Vudigg-Jorruk Yokin-Senavysh Angavur

 

 

 

 

 

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[Ga-Koro, The Great Takea (Talli)]

 

Talli frowned at the matoran.  “Where have you been that you can just ask anybody on the street if they’ve seen someone that looks like any normal person?”


She once would have known the pubs and houses and marketplaces that the corporal mentioned, would have frequented then.  But most of her nights now were filled with ill-conceived attempts at getting to sleep early.  She’d tried copious amounts of alcohol, but they only made the mornings worse.

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[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - LuciraMorie - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed

Clan Plangori - Clan Kuychar
I got that string theory--it doesn't work to push, you gotta pull.

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IC [Leah - Ko-Koro streets]:


The blizzard winds howled, snow crunched under myriad pairs of feet and pinged off their armor as it fell, and there was a near constant, more-felt-than-heard groan of the glacial ice rising to the north and south. Despite the sizable force around them and the nostalgic reunion just a moment ago, what stood out most to Leah was how quiet it was. A silent determination had taken hold of them all as they moved like ghosts through the stricken village. It’s not over until it’s over...

Leah and Sulov had taken point once more,using their elements to remove roadblocks or break through the last resistance along their direct path to the warehouse. And right alongside them were the members of the ILF, moving with fervor. The Toa of plantlife, Skrihen, seemed especially eager to show they were not here as anyone's entourage. Together they were the tip of the lose arrowhead formation now sweeping through the village. The Ihu-Koro Highlanders had spread out to their left and right, moving street by street, building by building, under the watchful eyes of the Gukko-Force above. Many of the Makuta's followers had begun to retreat back from the combined air and ground assault. But a number remained that had taken cover in the abandoned buildings and now posed a serious risk of ambushes if they weren’t careful. Every now and then the noise of short, intense fighting managed to cut through the ambient noise, followed by brief shouts along the lines of all clear or need a healer.

The frequency of these brief encounters increased, as the liberation force closed in on their target, the last of the legacy most likely rallying around what remained of their leadership. They were a mere block away when they hit an especially resilient pocket of resistance. Resourcefully, the ragtag group of Lesterin, Vortixx and Skakdi had used the rubble left by the airstrikes to erect an impromptu barrier and reinforced it by mounting launchers they’d appropriated from the Koro’s walls; in such a way that they could cover both the ground and air. The Maru and ILF scrambled for cover as they opened fire.

“Plan.” Sulov said.

Skrihen cut in before the other Maru could speak. “Just focus on the big guns, we’ll handle the rest.”

Leah looked to her brothers. Reordin shrugged. “Works for me.”

That was all the confirmation Skrihen needed and the ILF sprung into action to pick off the barricade’s entrenched defenders. Leah looked to the Toa of ice. “Are they all like that?”

“It’s why I love them.”

Sulov hit the ground with his shovel, drawing their attention back to him. “I go first. Cover your approach.” he rumbled, then looked at Reordin. “You set ‘em up. I knock ‘em down.”

“Me and Reo clean up after.” Leah finished, nodding in agreement.

The mighty Toa of earth strode into the street, batting away an incoming projectile with his spade, before ramming it into the ground at his feet. Pillars of earth shot up from the permafrost soil below, blocking the launchers’ line of fire as Reordin moved in. The Legacy had not counted on his presence after he had been absent from the public eye for so long, nor had they had time to go and find other materials - so they had used plenty of ice in their makeshift barrier. Ice that now moved against them, ripping the structure they built apart, crushing their defenses. The Toa of ice was in his domain. This was his turf - and he was gonna make sure they knew it.

Cover crumbled, and wherever an opening appeared, the ILF and Highlanders were there to swoop in. Then Sulov ripped the pillars he had created out of the ground and slammed them into the center of the barrier like massive battering rams. As the Makuta followers abandoned their positions, Leah raised her hands and summoned a microburst from the storm clouds overhead. As the freezing rain came down, Reordin triggered his mask’s power, turning the water into...she didn’t really want to know, judging by the sudden shouts of pain.

Leah looked at her brother. The Maru hadn’t spent much time together before this battle, for many reasons - Stannis’ lie about his Kanohi; Reo, Korero and her fighting because of it; Oreius striking out on his own. Their failed attempt to stop the Piraka, both as a team in Ta-Koro and just her and Sulov in the dark walk. This whole Ko-Koro situation...Through it all, they’d lost much of the unity they’d built during their quest to become the Maru in the first place. Reordin had become withdrawn. Leah didn’t know what inner demons he faced exactly, but she knew him well enough to make some very good guesses. He was doing much better now, judging by their reunion, but he didn’t wasn't back up to a hundred percent yet. She didn’t ask him then -  too many others around. But with only the Maru in the street right now, it was a chance to talk, who knew when they’d get another. 

“You holding up okay?” she asked softly.

Reordin stood stock, face expressionless behind his asymmetrical mask; his eyepiece, so like Kopaka's, was focused somewhere much farther away than anything in his hometown, or the yells and writhing of the vandals who'd seized it. One hand reached up and clung to the bloodstained, matted fur of his officer's jacket, left arm hanging over his collar and heartlight.

"I want this to be over," he replied, "so it's going to end. No use assessing damage until we've stopped taking it, is there?"

Reo pulled the jacket a little tighter around his shoulders and then dropped his hands.

"Sure, Leah. I'm sure I've been worse. But it's hard to remember when."

The Toa of water was quiet for a moment, as she bent down to check the pulse of a Vortixx merc that had been knocked out by Sulov’s attack.

“No sense taking hits you don’t have to.” she said, kind but firmly. His gaze was still far away. “And better to check how many you’ve taken. Don’t burn out just before the finish line.”

The dust of their attack had begun to settle over the barricade, revealing a breach at its center that would let them pass. Leah shouldered her staff, but instead of going for the gap, she walked up to Reordin instead. Gently, she placed her free hand on the back of his neck, pressing her forehead against his so they had to look each other in the eyes.

“I’m getting ahead of myself, but once this is over I’m taking you and the others to a cozy place with good drinks. Lots of them. Preferably with hammocks. And a hot tub, too. That’s non-negotiable.”

She kissed him on the cheek before letting go.

“So you better come through, Lt. You hear?”

Finally, they moved through the broken barricade. Ahead of them, the warehouse loomed, door still missing from where they’d blown away the entrance before.

It was time to end this.
 

OOC: Reordin Dialogue courtesy of Tyler. Cheers, bud!

Edited by Vezok's Friend
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IC: The dust settled and Sulov felt through it, grasped the wreckage whimper into place. Knocked down. The only building left stored Stannis, and Korero, and whatever had put Oreius in a Le-Koro hospital. God. 

He hunched slightly in a moment. Scanned and caught the opening they'd made in the warehouse. Jagged like a bombed hive, holding something like Nui-Rama, outside an Ussalman and his friends about to charge in and die so that others may live.

Except they'd all lived. (Isn't Destiny nice like that?) He did not think they'd live this time because of Destiny or lucky timing or the fact that the guy in charge of the opposition just decided to head out. They'd live this time because they did this together, Leah set up and he knocked down and Reo cleaned up, and they played to win. So that Reo and Iset and Oreius may live. 

He straightened, drew the pistol, absorbed the pillars in his path, stepped into line beside his friends. Then forward. 

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[Profiles]

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Wisdom. Restraint. Emptiness. 

 

 

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OOC: Just adding some detail to Highlander actions. Po-Koronian crossbows obtained in dealings with Po, authorized by Silvan.

 

IC/NPC: Ihu-Koronian Highlanders, a few moments past

The battle was going far more in the Highlander's favor this time rather than last. The Legacy were scattered and disorganized, and the gate belonged to them. It also helped that they weren't trying to capture or stop the flow of people leaving the village--unless they had seen violence, the Highlanders couldn't very well distinguish fleeing Legacy from fleeing refugees. They were keeping the gate open, and looking for an opportunity--

Quote

Within a minute, they had a dozen birds flying in formation, heading towards their allies. Just as the Highlanders launched their charge into the village, shadows fell over them from behind. Looking up, the Lieutenant saw birds and riders racing by overhead. He spotted one of them, looking back down at them, and the Po-Toa veteran could’ve sworn the Matoran snapped him a cheeky salute as his Kahu raced by. The next moment, the streets ahead of the advancing Ihu-Korans erupted in a shower of ice and snow, kicked up by exploding Madu and disk-launchers, clearing a path.

Air support.

Doesn't get better than that. The lieutenant grinned and waved for the Ta-Koronians to hold the gate, leaving a few of the Skakdi with them. The remainder of the Ihu-Koronians roared as they charged forward, expanding their advantage into the city. They needed to be ready in the event the Maru showed, and a wider field of vision--while harder to hold--could only benefit them. It was proving easier than expected, in honesty, perhaps he had underestimated what kind of disarray they'd be in.

Strangely, however, they all seemed to be running toward the Ihu Koronians or the village warehouse, away from the citadel.

"I don' like this, Lieu," the hulking Ice Skakdi to his left grumbled out, his impressive mouth turned into an equally impressive frown. He had a massive Po-Koronian crossbow gripped in his hands, already winding it again. "They're runnin' scared, which probably means we should be rushin' off too. Maybe they let somethin' loose they shouldn't." 

"Or maybe..." The Po-Toa paused, then smiled and slapped his companion on the back when the first shouts of "Maru!" came from their front lines. They might actually win this battle after all.

"You worry too much, Sergeant. Gather your squad. Highlanders, rally!"

They rushed forward, meeting up with the Maru and ILF. Integrating with them was easy and welcome--most of the Highlanders treated the Maru with something approaching awe and deference, and they were happy to fight alongside their Pala-Koronian brothers and sisters. The battle was hard fought, with the flanking Highlanders encountering most of the pockets of resistance--but they had momentum, and the living embodiments of Mata-Nui's will standing beside them. They would not be denied.

The barrier presented its own issues. They had no supernova to blow it up with, and the launchers above were hailing fire down. The lieutenant grit his teeth. "Sergeant, can you--"

A chorus of THWIP-THUDs echoed around him, the Skakdi and the rest of his squad kneeling in the snow to reload and rewind, their barrage of fire wilting the crew of one of the launchers. It wasn't going to be enough, not to breach them--he prepared the order to charge--

...

Oh, right. They had something far better than a supernova.

They had Sulov Maru

The Ihu-Koronians poured through the gap, admittedly with some hesitation to ensure that whatever Maru tier sorcery and teamwork had just happened with the raincloud and Reordin's mask wasn't going to happen to them. They secured the barrier after a skirmish, waiting for the Maru's lead to progress. 

Edited by Leaf
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IC Yasurek- Ko-koro:

The battle was joined!

Yasurek and Mimira emerged from the Ko-koro citadel ready for action, only to find that there wasn't any action nearby. The delay of leaving the 'Vika had allowed their allies to engage the enemy without them, and the righteous combat they sought was taking place several blocks away. Seeing as there was no immediate fighting to worry about, Yasurek took stock of the situation.

His former home was in a dire state, rubble and scattered snow banks filled the streets. Several buildings had been toppled, and many of the still standing structures had noticeable holes in them. Most of the destruction was concentrated near the main gate, with the rest of the damage localized near what looked to be a warehouse around which combatants were battling each other. Gukko force birds were flying over head, each pass being followed by the sounds of distant explosions. It was a chaotic situation, and inwardly Yasurek lamented how his home had been ravaged by it all. What had Ko-koro done to deserve such a fate?

Nonetheless, there was a time and place for such musings, and it was not here. He hadn't left the safety of the ship to watch his city burn after all. There was still evil here, and Yasurek wasn't going to stand by and not help remove it from this land. He stepped forward, spears in hand, and the peculiar pirate pair purposefully plodded down the path at a punctual pace. Their principled pursuit was interrupted by the sight of a shady lesterin attempting to sneak up on the attacking forces of good. This was a foolish choice, and he was hopelessly outnumbered, but whether by greed or zeal or just a lot of self-confidence that he could take out someone important with the element of surprise, he was lying in wait. So preoccupied was he with his cunning plan that he didn't notice the pair of matoran approaching behind him until the spear pierced his knee. He screamed in pain as Yasurek wrestled him to the ground, kicking his punctured leg to force him to his side. Wrapping his arms around his foe's throat, it was only a matter of time until the villain's movements slowed, the frequency of his breaths reduced, and he drifted off to-

And then Mimira bopped him on the head with her hammer, and the Lesterin was out like a lightstone.

Yasurek gave an appreciative nod to his companion, picking himself off the ground and brushing away the snow. Looking ahead of them, it was a mess of isolated skirmishes, people running every which way. He could recognize the ILF members from the ship, so he could just meet up with them and attack whoever they were fighting to make things easy. Retrieving his spears, the former guardsman steeled himself for the upcoming fight. There was no turning back now. With icy resolve resolve in his eyes, and a small grin on his face, he charged.

The battle was joined.

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I am pokemonlover360, master of hardly ever posting. You might know me from the many posts that I haven't made.
I'm around. If you really need me and I haven't responded quickly, send me a pm.

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IC: Dartakh

Soon after the two Toa had entered the tavern, Dartakh felt an overwhelming desire to leave. Something about the two just rubbed him the wrong way -- or it was simply the effects of the drink kicking in. Whatever the case, the comfortable warmth was now behind him, and he was trudging through freezing knee-deep snow, feeling a little tipsy. He was heading towards the general direction of Ko-Koro, or so he at least believed. If he was lost, then at least he finally had an excuse to lie down and freeze to death.

Why did he even need an excuse?

He shook his head and already missed the drinks of the tavern. But he refused to even consider going back. No, he had to keep moving, keep moving, albeit he had no idea why. That is what his life had been since he had come to this forsaken island. Living for the sake of living, killing for the sake of money, earning money for the sake of spending it, spending it for the sake of living. A complete lack of purpose, and complete inability to find any.

Yet it had not always been so. But the past was lost to him.

He finally reached the top of a ridge, and the climb through snow had even made him exhausted, despite his strength and stamina. Cold wind carried flakes of snow, blurring vision, but when he squinted his reptilian eyes, he could see the city of ice in the distance. It's almost like what looking into the past was like. He couldn't make out any details, only the shape.

Then, the wind calmed down, and the snowflakes gently floated onto the rocky ground. Now he could see the city clearly: All its black scars, its pillars of smoke, its empty streets. Yet he could also see -- and hear -- sounds of battle. They were fighting over Ko-Koro, again. He didn't see much point in sacrificing lives for a dead husk of a city. But such was life on this island; endless fighting, endless struggle, endless pain, no everlasting triumph or peace. At this point, did either side really know what they were fighting for? 

Power. Wealth. Freedom. Servitude to a dead god. A combination of these, if any. But Dartakh cared for none of these. Wealth, if anything, though he only wanted wealth to keep himself alive. As long as he got paid, he would fight for anyone, good or evil. These people were fighting for such lofty purposes, yet he was fighting to stay alive, so he could fight, so he could stay alive. He felt like a Rahi, a beast trying to survive in a mad world. Who was he to say that the people were fighting for no good reason?

He sat down in the snow, resting from the climb and watching the mayhem far away. Sure, there was money to be earned, but first he'd have to figure out why he needed to live. Figure out how to be more than a mindless Rahi.

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still alive somehow

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On 10/4/2019 at 10:01 PM, Tyler Durden said:

“I just...I just. Really...thought...I did this one right.

Dorian Shaddix’s breath left him in half a laugh and half a sniffle. Quietly, he slumped against Merror’s collarbone.

...

“...Dorian?”

“...Dor?”

...

 

OOC: Soundtrack to this post.

 

IC


The silence of the Kini-Nui forest was deafening to Merror. The air was still; there was no rustle of leaves, no nightly birdsong. No answer from Dorian.

The weight on his shoulder had grown heavier, slacker; it had become the young man’s full weight, resting limply again Merror’s own frame. He stood there, unmoving, supporting that weight, for a brief eternity.

He couldn’t bring himself to raise his hand to Dorian’s neck and check for a pulse.

“...yeah, Dor. Yeah, you did this one right,” he said through a growing lump in his throat, knowing full well he’d said it too late. Tears welled in his eyes. “You did.”

At last he raised his hand, placed two fingers on the young man’s neck, and felt what he’d known he’d feel: only stillness.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, he lowered Dorian’s limp form to the ground. As he laid the Fe-Toa’s head gently back onto the carpet of leaves, the moonlight fell on the young man’s face, and it struck Merror that Dorian’s mask, like his own, was a Calix. Behind it were peacefully closed eyes, still wet with tears. A saltwater drop pooled at the eyehole of Merror’s own Calix and fell to earth.

They had been different in so many ways, he and Dorian, but until now he’d never seen how they were similar. Too similar, he thought bitterly. Despite knowing the price would almost certainly be his life, Dorian had gone to fight Echelon alone — not bringing even his closest friends, because he couldn’t take the chance of losing them. So that the sacrifice would be his, and his alone. How many times had Merror refused help, turned friends away, for fear that his fight would cost their lives?

Except Dorian had done what Merror couldn’t: he’d won. He’d stopped Echelon for good, stopped him dragging any more souls into the void in his own long fall towards oblivion. Merror had faced Echelon so many times, held back so many times for fear of breaking the Toa Code, and innocents had paid for it. If he’d just let go, stopped clinging so tightly to the Code and fought with all the deadly ferocity of a Ta-Toa, perhaps he could’ve stopped him. Or perhaps not. There was no knowing now.

As he’d trekked through the Mata Nuian wilderness following Dorian’s trail, the memory of his vision in Ko-Wahi had played over and over in his mind: the weight of age, the rustle of linen robes, a staff in his hand. He’d begun to think his time was approaching. He’d begun to wonder whether his destiny awaited in the Vault: to stop Echelon once and for all, to remove his darkness from the world. To kill his oldest enemy.

But he’d arrived too late. Too late to do the deed. Too late to save the one who had.

He rose to walk away, but only made it a few steps before he was overwhelmed. He sank to his knees. He shut his eyes tight, but could not clamp back the flow of tears as this new failure tore open all the old wounds.

Too late. Always too late. Too late to avoid the ambush that killed his team. Too late to keep the darkness from consuming the Chronicler’s Company. Too late to help a young man who’d played the hand life dealt him, who’d sinned and made mistakes, but in the end had given his life to protect the people he cared about. He’d deserved a second chance.

And though Echelon was gone, a far greater evil had returned. All through Merror’s life the darkness of the world had deepened, and one by one he’d seen lights that could’ve brightened it be snuffed out, and been powerless to stop it. Now that Makuta was back, things would be darker than ever. The light, the cause of Mata Nui and all that was good in the world, needed Toa like Joske. Like Dorian. Toa burning with the courage of youth, not burdened by the weight of the past. It needed them far more than it needed old Toa Merror, and yet here he was, still alive, while Dorian lay cold and still behind him. Why?

A faint light began to seep through Merror’s tight-shut eyelids. Slowly, blinking away the tears, he opened them, and looked down at his hands.

They were glowing.

Many times had Merror’s hands blazed with elemental Fire — hurling flames in battle, giving heat in the cold, bringing light in darkness. But never before had they shone with a gentle silvery radiance, with wisps of light slowly rising from his upturned palms and arcing between his fingers.

And yet it was familiar; the feel of it was familiar. It was something that had always been there, hidden away deep in his spirit from the day he picked up his Toa Stone, but only now came brimming to the surface.


***

 

“It’s said that every Toa has a destiny; a part to play in Mata Nui’s grand plan. Some claim that Destiny is fixed, immutable. Others insist that it is ever in flux, changing and readjusting as events take their course. And some…”

The old man smiled wryly.

“...some would say that to be overly certain about such things is foolish. But nevertheless, it is agreed by most that each Toa has a destiny that is theirs to fulfil. Many never do, of course. Some turn from their path, into darkness, or merely apathy. Some fall before their time. But some, a blessed few perhaps, do meet the destiny to which Mata Nui has appointed them. Having done so, they may relinquish their Toa Power for a greater good, and so become Turaga.”

“Did you?” asked the Ta-Toa sitting opposite him, somewhat too large for the Matoran-sized bench (it was all the Turaga had in his humble Ta-Koronan abode). “Were you a Toa once, I mean?”

Vakama raised an eyebrow. The flames in the nearby fire-pit flared briefly, casting the Turaga’s silhouette more starkly against the carved basalt walls.


“Well, now, that would be telling. Such an impertinent question, young Toa!”

The Ta-Toa looked taken aback.

“I’m sorry, Turaga — I meant no offence…”


“And none was taken, my young friend,” Vakama replied with a chuckle. “But my past is a story for another time. You came here to ask about your future, I believe.”

“Well…” the Ta-Toa hesitated. “...Yes, I suppose. It’s just that I was so sure my destiny was...shared, with my team. But now they’re gone, and I…”

The young Toa broke off and looked away. Vakama studied his eyes. He saw pain, loss. Guilt.


“You blame yourself,” he said softly.

The young Toa closed his eyes, hung his head.


“And you wonder whether you still have a destiny, now they’re gone.”

“...yeah.”

The Turaga sighed. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this, and as long as the war with Makuta burned on, he knew it would not be the last.


“I’m sorry, my young friend. I do not know your fate. The fires of prophecy show only what they will, and leave much clouded. But I can tell you that your destiny did not die with your friends. Neither should your hope.”

“But how will I know my destiny?” the Ta-Toa asked, a pleading look in his eyes. “How will I know what I’m fighting for, what my purpose is?”

“You already know what you’re fighting for,” Vakama replied, with a small smile. “To be a Toa is to know the path but not the destination. As I said, many never reach it. But I think you will. I think that one day, you will find the moment of your destiny. In a way, a Toa’s destiny is the truest expression of their self, and in that moment, we are granted...a clarity, an understanding. Then, Toa Merror, you will know.”

 

***

 

And in that moment, Merror knew.

He knew that his path had always been leading him here, to this moment. He felt the clarity Vakama had spoken of, all those years ago: saw his life laid out before him, every twist and turn, every victory and every loss, every sorrow and every joy, and was at peace.

Every step of the way had been a preparation so that he would be here now, in this moment, where Destiny needed him. That was why the Abettor had let him pass, though he was too late to partake in the battle. He understood now that his destiny could never have been to kill Echelon; that was not who he was. The destiny of Toa Merror had never been to take a life, but to save one. Just one. And that was enough.

He looked up at the sky and its myriad stars, and his eyes welled with new tears, but not of grief.

“Thank you…” he breathed.

He rose, and as he turned back towards Dorian the silvery glow began to spread along his arms and outward from his heartlight, across his chest. He drew his one remaining sword, and looked down one last time at the Toa Tool that had served him well all those long years, then laid it carefully on the ground.

He began to walk towards the fallen Toa, and as he walked he saw the faces of his team, his friends — not etched with pain, as they had been in his dreams every night since he lost them — but happy, smiling as they had the day they became Toa, and he understood that it had not been their souls he’d needed to find peace for, but his own.

As he knelt beside Dorian’s still form, the light that was his Toa Power encompassed him in a white aura, drifting upwards like slow white flames. He gathered Dorian’s limp body into his arms, like a parent cradling a sleeping child. He felt the Toa Power swell within him as though sensing its time was at hand and fighting to be set free, and the glow brightened, throwing the shadows of trees deep into the forest.

Gently, he placed one hand above Dorian’s heartlight. Breathed in, closed his eyes. And let go.

He gasped as he felt the Toa Power surge out of him, down his arm and into Dorian’s chest in a flood of pure energy. It was a long, slow lightning strike drawn from his very soul. Merror felt it leaving him: everything that made him a Toa, the source of his power and strength, flowing out and into the fallen Fe-Toa, drawn by the inexorable pull of Destiny. It knitted ravaged tissue back together, mended broken bones, refilled drained arteries. Even the blood soaking the young man’s clothes began to fade away.

Merror felt his armour begin to shift, to change. He felt age begin to seep into his bones.

The light became blinding, and was gone.

Edited by Ghosthands
  • Like 11

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