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Six Kingdoms: Escapement - Gameplay


Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Arkius - The Taku

Arkius grunted as the ship began to tilt, though since he was already holding onto the guard rail, he managed to stay upright and in a battle ready position, his axe at the ready. It had been risky for him to approach before, and now that the ship was beginning to tilt, it would be even riskier. Slowly though, he slid his hand down the rail, hobbling on his single healthy leg along, trying to get closer to Vyarik before he could do more damage.

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IC: Lhikan | Coliseum Prisons

"Hopefully the vahki fail. If they found out he knew Nuparu's work they might force him to finish it." Lhikan sighed and rolled his shoulders. The sound of his creaking gears echoed through the prison hall. "That's if you're right about what you saw, of course. You know, speaking of seeing..."

He paused, as if unsure how to handle the next bit. "Your people have special sight don't they? What's that like, having optics with powers?"

Happy chat.

 

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IC: Thom - Prison (Self Deprication)

Thom's claws played with the elastic on his eyepatch, ears metaphorically pricking as Lhikan asked him about his vision powers. 

"Yeah. Ya could say that. Ah mean, ah got a bit unlucky on tha' front. Erryone else can blast lasers 'nd break faces with beams coming out their blinkers." The Ko-Skakdi slipped his patch back on. "Ah can just see real good. Light, dark, far away, ah can probably make it out if ah wanted to. And if ya paid me enough." 

The Skakdi suddenly had a craving to play with his weapon, spin the cylinders as he talked, but those Zyglak had somewhat understandably taken his gun from him. He made do by spinning an invisible, imaginary round in his fingers. 

 

 

 

 

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IC: Lhikan | Coliseum Prison

"Really? Lasers from their eyes? I guess I never thought much about flame from my hands. Do skakdi try not to look at each other so they don't, well," Lhikan gesticulated two beams of energy with his fingers coming out of his eyes. It looked similar to the I'm Watching You gesture. 

Happy chat.

 

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IC: Thom - Prison (Lore Dump)

The sicario cackled at this suggestion, finding Lhikan's obliviousness very amusing. 

"Nah. With my powers at least, ah 'ave to turn it on. Like flippin' a switch. Course, Skakdi shoot lasers at each other for odd looks all tha karzin' time, but that's cultural business." Thom explained, a bit like someone recalling a good memory they had with a friend. 

 

 

 

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IC: Lhikan | Coliseum Prisons

"I suppose everyone would be used to that on Zakaz. Zakaz is your homeland, isn't it?" Lhikan traveled extensively during his time as a toa with a legendary team, but in their journeys and perilous adventures they'd never made it to the island of the skakdi. Somehow, something more important in the matoran universe seemed to spring up whenever they finished quelling something else. The incident with the great Kanohi Dragon in Metru-Nui finally gave Lhikan a home, but the wanderlust of his youth never truly vanished. Before imprisonment, the matoran of the city often found their fiery protector searching in the small corners of the city for the whispered rumors of adventure. He longed to one day strike out again, when his watch was over, and explore the realms beyond. It never happened. Now he sat in a cell, trapped by the consequences of his own actions, trying to find adventure in the tales of another murderer.

"What's it like there?"

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Thom - Prison (Talking about home)

The Skakdi nodded, temporarily distracted by his locale by the Turaga's genuine curiosity. He didn't heckle, at least not now. 

"Aye. Zakaz is...well, ya don't see many Skakdi businessmen or negotiators forra good reason. Bit like bein' born in a warzone, lotsa movin', lots of scraps, lots of rubble." He waved his hand. "Crazy thing is, ah'm not much of a frontlines lad. Compared to some of my brothers in Zakaz, ah reckon ah'm like a cuddly teddy bear."

 

 

 

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Coliseum Prisons

As Lhikan went to ask his next question a door opened from down the hall, accompanied by the mechanical sounds of vahki on patrol. A squad mother stopped by Thom's cell. It stared for a long time through the power removing field, then said;

"You are being acquitted of all crimes, Dark Hunter. You will be released if you accept the terms of the acquittal: you will wear a tracker for monitoring of future illegal activity. You will report your weekly expenses to the Coliseum. You will liberate islands from the League on behalf of the matoran of Metru-Nui. Do you accept?"

 

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IC: Thom - Prison (CIA Operative Time)

"Wait, acquitted? Wossat mean, like ah'm good? Ah can leave?"

The Skakdi burst into joyous laughter, in absolute disbelief of his luck. Were the Vahki this stupid? Did the Shadowed One make a deal to get him out? Really, he didn't care, he was free. He wiped a tear from his face, still chuckling.

"Ah mean, ah reckon ya might have made a mistake there, Boltsy, but if ya insist. Ah'm gonna need my gun back, though. Can't do much liberatin' without it." He winked, over the moon.

 

 

 

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IC Kanohi The Taku

The vessel bucked like a Kane-Ra trying to dislodge a Brakas, knocking Kanohi flat on the ground. He ... the engine, why was it reacting, he had turned it off, hadn't he? Or had he done it incorrectly, and just made things worst? He failed the Toa and the Nynrah Ghost, failure, useless, Kohlii-head, his heartlight flickered like the rapid clanging of gears in a Vahki's clockwork brain.

 Kanohi shuddered, trying ... trying to remember what his Turaga had told him. Turaga Bomahri had always stressed to take things in small manageable tasks, small manageable tasks. He couldn't forge Kanohi, but he could patch up hovecrafts. And he ... a Nynrah Ghost depended on him. He had to try to fix his mistake. But in this shifting terrain, how?

Okay, he ... his Volo Lutu Launcher. One of the few things he made that worked. It was ... ugly, but durable and redundent. Made it harder for him to mess up. He knew how to grapple, he had done it many times over Metru Nui, even back home in Bo-Wahi and Fe-Koro. He ... he could do that. He could manage.

Kanohi pulled out the grappling gun and fired it, flinging himself to the left engine. The gun latched him to the ground, letting him hold steady as he surveyed the damage. The disks had been manually turned on? How could...

And then Kanohi noticed like three Toa standing besides him, including Nale, as well as that stranger. He ... he searched his memory, he had ... he recalled talking, but in his mind he wasn't able to decipher it. Kanohui could feel his heartlight dilating, but fear of letting a whole Toa team and a Nynrah Ghost down, that was stronger. He began to get to work, trying to turn off the engine, hoping ... hoping he didn't make things worse.

 

"Danger is the anvil on which trust is forged"-Jaller(Jala) :smilejala: 
"We're on our own here-like we've always been-and we'll stand or fall on our own"-Tanma
"He may seem slow and strange to you, but his simple words often carry a hidden wisdom"-Turaga Vakama on Kapura

9B586E38-224D-4703-8EE3-5A0AC1CB8344.png.4f8ec6246a5ad7273e1c0d55cb15537e.png
Kanohi: Stories of a Matoran Vigilante The Impact of a Rebirth: a Kanohi Fanfic The Willing Exiles: a Kanohi Fanfic SKA PC Profiles: Kanohi, Collector, Mahrika Kardaka BZPRPG Profiles Avatar by @Harvali 

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Silver Sea

When Thom finally dug himself out of the crater his crash landing made in the Rocky beach he couldn't believe his eyes. Somehow the vahki had teleported him with kanoka discs into the middle of a war. The sensation of twenty discs hitting at once may have left a burning mark on his psyche, but a warzone was the closest he'd been to Zakaz in a long time. 

In Thom's hands was a large gun. It fired something called a cordak round, an explosive round. At his hip was his trustworthy firework revolver -- new and improved. Around his neck was the collar: it blipped every time he held his breath, he couldn't take it off, and a small dastardly drone followed where the collar went broadcasting to a stream somewhere in the Coliseum. 

 

Ooc: by the powers of timeskip welcome to war @Dane

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IC: Thom - Silver Sea ("I ain't no fortunate Thom")

"What?" Was the Skakdi's immediate reaction.

The first thing that came to the gunman's attention was the large weapon on his hands, completely unfamiliar to him. Weapons made sense to him, intrigued him. Pointed at him, pointed at others, they were his hobby, between jobs.

Ignoring the loud noises and chaos around him temporarily, in a moment of clarity, he admired his new weapons, checking the ammo in his heavy firearm before moving to inspect his favourite, intrigued by the modified shape it had.

OOC: Thom checking out his revolver.

 

 

 

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OOC: mobile post

IC: Vyarik - The Taku

His fist - suddenly feeling somewhat heavier after bumping the weight increase disks - emerged clutching the cluster of levitation disks he'd been aiming for. He detached one from the mangled pulley and flung it forcefully at Arkius, the nearest threat.

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OOC: mobilezoned

IC: Nale Vella - The Taku 

She almost immediately used her element to magnetize herself to the floor, allowing her to keep steady. Instead of joining Arkius in going after Vyarik, though, she remembered the Kanoka launcher she'd been clutching this entire time. Nale, ever the markswoman, aimed it at the damaged engine and fired.

OOC: leaving it open jic, not sure if it's up to me if it connects and repairs it 

IC: Jutori - The Archives 

I had left my hiding spot and was now standing by my companions, watching intently.

Edited by Tarn

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IC: Arkius - The Taku

Arkius growled through grit teeth as he painfully ripped part of his cast off to intercept the kanoka, knocking it out of the air to clatter harmlessly to the floor. He kept advancing, wincing as the now compromised cast allowed for some movement to his injured leg, causing him renewed pain.

 

IC: The Waif - Le-Metru, The Notch

A lone matoran... well, presumably a matoran, slept alone in a secluded corner of the station platform, leaves covering her grey and bronze form like a blanket. A rhythmic heaving of her chest indicated she was asleep, or at the very least resting, unaware of whosoever was approaching this abandoned corner of the Metru.

Edited by Onaku
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OOC: As requesed @Toru Nui.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Ga-metru Disc Hunt

While Triki was lost in the access tunnels, Tekmo left the alley and made his way towards the Great Temple proper. The Great Temple was at the end of a long boulevard of contemplation, with pilgrims watching the Silver Sea’s waves crash against the walls raising them above sea level. Scriptures and legends were carved into alcoves along the boulevard, stories Tekmo knew as a toa and heard around evening cooking fires as a matoran. The temple itself loomed above, commanding unfettered faith in the Great Spirit on the surrounding views.

The Great Temple of Metru-Nui was conical in shape, with beautifully carved windows and gables on its upper stories. Seabirds made nests in these gables, left alone during the brooding months by matoran priests and cleaned away when the next generation could fly. Lush moss grew over the entirety of the Great Temple, forming a plush ground for Tekmo to step on. It was comforting for the toa of plantlife to be among his own element. Eight spires of varying heights rose from the sea around the temple’s main structure. These were pillars to faith, cloisters for the devout, the sick, and the homeless.

A ga-matoran wearing the robes of priesthood approached Tekmo through the soft mist of rain filling the air. She smiled and bowed sofly, before offering the gesture of friendship: a fist bump.

“Welcome to the Great Temple, Toa Hero. How may I be of service?”

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Knichou, Onu-Metru Airspace, Bridge of the Taku

The regeneration Kanoka hit the levitation engine through the open wall of the compartment, hitting the complex machinery inside of the engine that was broken from the crash and extra broken from being punched by Vyarik. The disk disintegrated as it's mass shifted to repair the gears and levers. While there was no way to stop the power of the weight increase disks without using levitation disks on that area of the ship, the repairs to the internal systems realigned the disks inside of the engine and repaired the failsafes that prevented them from causing a chain reaction again. With a power cycling and maybe a tweak or two, the levitation engine could be switched online again by Knichou in the bridge, although if any repairs were successful Knichou wouldn't know of them until the engine's control panel was reset.

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OOC: mobile post

IC: Vyarik - The Taku

Snarling at the sight of his work being so swiftly undone - but pleased to note his suspicion about Male's disk had been correct, Vyarik lashed out with everything he had.

He decreased the power of his mask, beginning to steadily return to his full size. As he grew, he pushed against the walls and engine sections around him with all of the considerable strength he could muster, intending to mangle the engine from the inside out, beyond what any mere disk could repair.

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BZPRPG Mercenary Group - The Outsiders - Description - History - Base

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IC: Tekmo (The Great Temple)

Tekmo takes the priest's offer, his fist gently meeting hers. "It is an honour, ma'am. I feel I should tell you what happened to the gate. Someone has... uh, damaged it. But, regardless, I have come seeking information pertaining to the legendary Great Kanoka Disks. I am Toa Tekmo, and you are?"

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Ga-Metru | The Great Temple

When Tekmo mentioned someone damaged the gate to the access tunnels the priestess' kanohi pakari gained an amused expression. If she assumed he was the vandal Tekmo couldn't tell. 

"Astrologist Nixie at your service, Toa Tekmo," said the priestess as her diminutive fist made contact with his much larger fist. She beckoned for him to follow her towards the main entrance to the Great Temple as she continued to speak. "It's understandable that you seek the Great Discs of Metru-Nui. What do you wish to do with the information about their locations? Turaga Dume surely couldn't give you anything else with which to serve the Great Spirit?"

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
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IC Stannis | Airship

Just as Vyarik began to grow and take out his destructive tendencies in the airship’s room, Stannis stared at him evenly and snapped his fingers to teleport him away  

And at Vyarik’s size it was impossible not to have him in line of sight. 

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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OOC: lost my ipad, posting will be irregular for the future ):

IC Kanohi - The Taku

Kanohi single-mindedly went to work on the engine, trying to keep it stable. Just ... try to ignore everything, and focus on his task. his heartlight was jittery as he struggled, the strain of metal and the snarl of voices - just finish the task, just fix the engine.

 

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"Danger is the anvil on which trust is forged"-Jaller(Jala) :smilejala: 
"We're on our own here-like we've always been-and we'll stand or fall on our own"-Tanma
"He may seem slow and strange to you, but his simple words often carry a hidden wisdom"-Turaga Vakama on Kapura

9B586E38-224D-4703-8EE3-5A0AC1CB8344.png.4f8ec6246a5ad7273e1c0d55cb15537e.png
Kanohi: Stories of a Matoran Vigilante The Impact of a Rebirth: a Kanohi Fanfic The Willing Exiles: a Kanohi Fanfic SKA PC Profiles: Kanohi, Collector, Mahrika Kardaka BZPRPG Profiles Avatar by @Harvali 

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IC: Sans, The Notch

"Welp, this isn't what I was expecting." Sans scratched his chin under his Ruru-shaped Kanohi.  The three adventures paused for a minute and quietly contemplated their next move.  Quiet contemplation came naturally to Ko-Matoran; that Sans was himself alone in his thoughts was truly an indication of how stumped the party was.  Sans walked over to each symbol on the floor in front of the chutes, then began slowly walking over to the sleds.  "These chutes, they're not numbered normally.  One would expect them to go 1-2-3, but instead they go 3-2-1. Interesting.... I think.  And these colors on the ground," Sans stopped and gestured over the circles.  "Mayhaps one needs a few ordinary disks to acquire the Great Disk?  Following that logic, we need a Ko-disc, a Ta-disc, and a Le-disc.. assuming no pranksters painted over these symbols, huhuhuhu." Metru-Nui disks were spread throughout the entire universe.  Disks from the City of Legends came imbued with powers, and though it had been countless years sins Sans had handled one himself, he would never forget each disk's inherent properties.

"I could be going out on an old limb, but... this one on the right, with the red circle, the single dot, and the virtue of Duty... Ta-Metru disks are known to bump obstacles out of their way.  So maybe, just maybe, the single dot indicates a single traveler needs go inside this chute, and bump some stuff out of the way, sort of like clearing a clot? I don't know if I'll need a Ta-disk itself, but if you two have one, give it to me.  Who better to rise to the challenge of Duty than one who has served his Duty well enough to be rewarded with an aching back and sore joints, huhuhhu." Sans walked again towards the sleds.  "Chute-surfing is new to me, but back in my youth I surfed more than my fair share.  I'm sure I'll get the hang of these things," Sans said optimistically as he reached down for a sled.  When he picked one up, however, he jumped back! "Someone's hiding in the sleds!" His yell caught the two Ko-Matoran's attention, as well as causing the hidden being to stir from under the pile of parts...

OOC: @Onaku @Crimson Jester

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In a world where heroes and villains battle for the fate of the universe‚ some people have normal lives and work normal jobs... Zimixes

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IC: Tekmo (The Great Temple)

"Well, I-" Tekmo paused. Nixie had a point. There were other things he could be doing. But Turaga Dume had commanded their recovery in front of the whole city, offering Toa Stones to whomever found them... which he didn't need, as he was already a Toa. And then Tekmo realized something - he had been under the impression that the Great Disks were just extraordinarily powerful Kanoka. But how powerful were they supposed to be, exactly?

"I was curious as to the exact nature of the Disks. Forgive me if the answer seems obvious, but... I'm not from around here, you understand."

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IC: Astrologist Nixie | Ga-Metru | The Great Temple

"Of course, Metru-Nui is a place of welcome and worship for all in Matoran society, especially now with the war." She paused as they stepped through the open doorway of the Great Temple. Soft prayers echoed from the enclaves where matoran asked for blessings or prayed for the fortunes of others. Lightstone sat in ancient sconces made by Ta-Matoran smiths in the early years of Metru-Nui's founding. Even the innocuous sconces were older than many of the matoran who lived in the city. Before the coliseum, the Great Temple had been a place of government and communication. Now, the divide cleanly placed the powers of the Turaga in the Coliseum and the powers of the Great Spirit in the Temple. Astrologist Nixie led Tekmo around the outer circle of six great rings inside the Great Temple while they talked. The closest ring surrounded the mystic suva once used by the Mangai. Pillars and arches divided each ring.

"The nature of the discs is uncertain. We know them to be far powerful when compared to something as strong as a level eight. Even after all these centuries, no smith has achieved the same level of purity of construction or purpose. The protodermis for those discs was purified with a unique and arduous rite. Unfortunately, the rite of purification was lost to time. Even Turaga Dume does not know it. But, if a level eight disc can be formed into a great kanohi, only the greatest smiths of Ta-Metru could truly imagine would a level nine disc could make."

She offered Tekmo a seat as they reached the quarter mark around the ring. "Does that answer your question?"

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IC: The Waif - Le-Metru, The Notch

The grey and bronze form startled awake, throwing off her shelter and rising to her feet in a hurry. She looked at the three matoran, panicked, her white eyes hidden underneath the bronze mask which notably wasn't of any known kanohi design. "Wh-who are you and what do you want?!" She shouted, her voice half gravelly, a wary yet defiant tone to her voice as she raised her hand to the handle of the sword sheathed on her back, holding her hand there but not quite yet drawing the weapon.

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IC: Sans, Spooked by the Chutes

"Oh, thank Mata-Nui, it's just a Matoran!" Sans placed an old hand on his old heart and laughed as we walked towards the startled villager.  "We mean you know harm, miss.  I am Sans, the Heroic Turaga from 'round the World!  These two here are my newest companions, The Alpinist and the Cartographer.  They're aiding me in my quest to find a Great Disk! Do you know of such legends?  Supposedly, if we can all work out the mysterious meaning behind the symbols on the floor here, and the chutes, we might be one step closer to actually acquiring one!" Sans had walked up to right beside the new Matoran, and extended his old but firm hand.  "Come now, why not join us? You clearly have nothing better to do, huhuhuhu.  I have a hunch, though more likely I am about to hurt myself, huhuhhu.  You wouldn't happen to be carrying any Kanoka on you, would you?  My companions are searching their bags for a Ta-Metru-made one now.  I think I need one from Ta-Metru; I'm going to hop inside this right side chute and see if i can't bump my way to victory!"

In a world where heroes and villains battle for the fate of the universe‚ some people have normal lives and work normal jobs... Zimixes

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OOC: mobile post
 
IC: Vyarik - The Tak- ooh, never mind
 
An expression of profound confusion creased Vyarik's features as the cramped confines of the engine compartment were suddenly replaced by the vast openness of the Metru Nui sky.
 
He flailed, fingertips reaching for an airship that was no longer there. And so he fell, being swiftly swallowed up by the smoggy clouds below.
 
Vyarik's ever-present confidence shattered, giving way to seething frustration as he lost his quarry. All of that time, all of that work, all of that effort... it couldn't be allowed to all be for nothing. 
 
He turned his gaze downwards, watching the distant city below rush towards him. Were it not for the bank of levitation disks still clutched in his hand, the sight may have even frightened him... 
 
OOC: Down, but not out. Vyarik will be back. But for now I think I'll take a break from him and focus on my other character.
Edited by Nato the Traveler
Misread kio as bio in description of Stannis' teleportation. Edited to account for Vyarik being considerably further away.
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Class Is Out - A Farewell To Corpus Rahkshi - Chapters/Review

BZPRPG Characters - Minnorak, Kain, T'harrak, Savis, Vazaria, Lash

BZPRPG Mercenary Group - The Outsiders - Description - History - Base

Ghosts Of Bara Magna - Ash Tribe - Precipere - Kehla, Somok, Skrall, Gayle, Avinus, Zha'ar

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IC: Nale Vella - The Taku

She breathed a sigh of relief and lowered the now-empty launcher. The ship wasn't entirely steady yet, but getting it under control again would be easier without a Dark Hunter around.


"Neat trick," she said to Stannis. 

Edited by Tarn

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IC: Arkius - The Taku

Arkius heaved himself forward with greater effort, his axe raised, panic visible on his features as the Dark Hunter grew in size... before suddenly he wasn't there any more. The Toa of Earth finally collapsed to the floor, his back to the railing, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. This was followed by a pained wince, as his tired hand moved the dislodged earth that floated in the air after hitting the levitation kanoka back to his cast. Only upon trying to fit the earthen piece back into his leg brace did he pause, let the piece drop, and look back over at Stannis. "I don't suppose you could fix up my leg with that mask of yours?"

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IC: Thom - Silver Sea (Beach Assault)

After checking his revolver, and lamenting the loss of his old ammunition, Thom gave a somewhat ironic wave to the drone, before taking a few steps further beyond the crater, clutching his Cordak launcher tight.

He'd seemingly been teleported straight into the meat of the war, absolutely everything was going to Karzahni nearby. The Skakdi couldn't help but feel fear, this is the closest he'd been to a warzone in years. 

An amber eye glowed as he tried to focus in on anybody nearby he could pick off.

OOC: Open for interaction on the beach assault!

 

 

 

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IC: The Waif - Le-Metru, The Notch

"Wh-what? Kanoka? No... I don't... I'm not really interested them..." The grey and bronze clad matoran glanced around uneasily, taking in the fact that three people now shared a space with her, three strangers that probably had no idea about the affliction she carried. "I'm... not much for legends either. Or puzzles..."

Edited by Onaku
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IC: The Cartographer -- The Notch Chute Station, Le-Metru

Mere moments had passed since the three disk hunters had entered the mysterious, haphazardly repaired Chute Station, although it had felt like an eternity. The Cartographer's mind and eyes raced feverishly between the myriad potential clues laid out in the cluttered room. 3, 2, 1. Hm. Unity, duty.. accuracy? Strange. The colors on the floor seemed fairly straight forward, but the rest... The Cartographer's mind was nearly shooting steam out his ears by this point. His knowledge of historic sites and Ko-Metru in general had served him well on the last puzzle, but impulsiveness had not -- never before had he seen such a twisted creature as the Abomination of Ko-Metru, and never again did he want to see one, as the one he saw was never leaving his brain anyway.

The pensive silence shared by the group was swiftly broken, not to the pair of Ko-Matoran's surprise, when the ever-outspoken Turaga piped up. Despite a whispered groan of annoyance at the Turaga for breaking his concentration and the silence Ko-Matoran preferred, the Cartographer had a great respect for this Turaga, as he did all of them. Although he played a bit of a bumbling fool type, there was a hidden wisdom buried within his words, honed by years of experience, and only to be interpreted by the sharpest of minds. The Cartographer pulled himself from the depths of his conscious thought to hear what the Turaga had to say.

"These chutes, they're not numbered normally.  One would expect them to go 1-2-3, but instead they go 3-2-1. Interesting.... I think.  And these colors on the ground," Sans stopped and gestured over the circles.  "Mayhaps one needs a few ordinary disks to acquire the Great Disk?  Following that logic, we need a Ko-disc, a Ta-disc, and a Le-disc.. assuming no pranksters painted over these symbols, huhuhuhu." 

The Cartographer grimaced, although it was not noticed by the others. He had hoped to avoid this situation altogether, as his pack currently held not only the weaken, enlarge, and reconstitute disks from their last puzzle, but the Great Disk of Ko-Metru himself. Although he had trust in the Turaga, he felt it was safer for everyone in the party that only he and the Alpinist knew that they possessed the Great Disk. Alas, they would not progress beyond here should he not reach into his bag and give the Turaga a disk. Awaiting an opportunity where the Turaga seemed enveloped in his voice, the Cartographer quickly opened his bag, reached in, and withdrew two disks, hoping the Great Disk wasn't seen. Replacing his pack, he picked up the two disks, and gestured them toward the Turaga, deep in discussion about his glory days of Chute surfing.

As he did so, the Turaga reached for a board, and to their surprise, a strange, Matoran-like creature appeared; although it's robes and armor disguised any true shape beneath. Clutching his disks tighter now, the Cartographer took a step back, tensing as he did. He didn't want a fight if he could avoid it, but he was ready to defend the Great Disk -- and his new friends, at any cost.

But then, something peculiar happened. As the Matoran rose, the Cartographer could begin to see the weak posture, hear the soft, broken voice, and feel... pain? This poor soul was not a threat, but the furthest removed from it. Alone, destitute, in the forgotten depths of Le-Metru, where even Vahki not dare venture. Something was off. He released the tension in his muscles and servos, leaned down, and gently placed the disks on the ground. He had encounters of this kind before, in the darkest depths of far away dungeons, so deep even the light no longer touched them. Matoran and other beings alike, wayward, lost, or abandoned, all without hope, all without purpose. And although the Cartographer was just that, an explorer, map-maker and chronicler, he was also a Matoran of Metru Nui. And Matoran always help their fellows.

Still kneeling, the Cartographer's eyes briefly turned to the Unity charm carved at the middle Chute. He knew what he must do. The Cartographer once more removed his pack from his back, and began a deep rummage of his side pockets. Moments later, he withdrew the prize he sought: a fresh pack of Muaka jerky. It was his hardiest and trustiest source of nutrients on long travels, as well as the tastiest. He tore the packet, and reached in, withdrawing a large, succulent piece of the dried Rahi flesh, rubbed in the finest of Metru Nui spices, and reached out, offering it gently to the Matoran.

OOC: @Onaku

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"This spot marks our grave; but you may rest here too, if you like."

 

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IC: Pardehi - Silver Beach Assault

Pardehi finally reached the edge of the beach, gasping for breath. He was exhausted, but knew that he could not afford even a moment of respite in this environment. Pulling himself upright, he ran along the beach in a frenzy, desperately seeking cover as bullets, explosives and elemental blasts flew over his head. On the way, he spotted the headless body of a toa, badly mangled by what must have been some kind of powerful energy attack. An abandoned kanohi, too badly burnt to be identified, lie next to the body. Pardehi briefly considered trying to recover the mask, but thought the better of it. He had other priorities right at the moment. Up ahead, he spotted a piece of scrap metal, no doubt from the hull of a boat or an airship. It would provide him the cover he needed. Looking straight ahead, he ran straight for it, his eyes locked on his destination. He was congratulating himself on finding cover without being spotted when he heard a loud yell to his right and felt a sudden surge of heat. He dove to the ground for cover, loading a freeze disk into his launcher. He glanced upward, catching a brief glimpse of the attacker. It was a broad shouldered, crimson armored warrior, with frightening large teeth and two black, curled horns growing from its head. He held a strange weapon resembling some kind of handheld cannon, which he held aloft with no visible exertion, launching bursts of fire over Pardehi's head. Pardehi guessed it was one of Mantax's tribe, the skakdi. No, Mantax wasn't a skakdi. Pardhei remembered that from one of the briefing he had attended during training. He wasn't sure what species Mantax was, actually. This creature, however, was most certainly a skakdi. He remembered that they possessed elemental powers, but that these powers could only be channeled through their weapons. He could think of nothing else that would have matched that description. Pardehi raised his disk launcher, firing the disk upward. A thick sheet of ice formed around the skakdi's head and he hit the ground, writhing as he slowly died from suffocation.

Pardehi jumped to his feet and sprinted forward. He finally made it to the scrap metal, ducking underneath for protection. He was panting heavily. He was a soldier, he now knew, and he had just made his first kill.

He peered over the edge of the crude barricade, carefully assessing his surroundings. To his shock, he immediately spotted another skakdi to the left of the barricade. This one was pure white, with a patch over one eye. He sported a long, deadly-looking rifle, which he carried with confidence. Pardehi loaded another disk, preparing to take aim, but something made him hesitate. The white skakdi, he suddenly realized, had seen him too.

OOC: @DanePardehi is noticing Thom on the beach. Open for interaction.

IC: Barak - Ta Metru Furnaces

As Barak lead his too companions onward, he carefully extended the tendrils of his mind. He would be sure to pick up on every minute detail of their conversion. While they were distracted, he would perform a surface scan of their minds. Most likely they would not notice at all. If it seemed appropriate, he would interject, hoping to glean information on their true motives and pasts.

OOC: @Darth Jaller @Tarn

IC: Tugarak - The Ripple

When Tugarak entered the passenger compartment, the passengers were in the middle of a conversation. He could tell by the muted, indistinct mumbling he had heard as he stepped in. On passenger, of a species he had never seen before, abruptly stopped speaking, turning his head in his direction. Tugarak was no expert on reading other race's emotions, but he could have sworn he saw a look of confusion in his (her?) eyes. When he met the creature's gaze, it turned away and continued speaking.

"Your attention, please". He called out to the room. He would check to make sure none of them were still severely injured. He would explain the weather situation as explicitly as possible, to make sure they knew how to prepare. He had had enough close calls with storms like this to know what would happen if the ship were damaged in this weather. It wasn't pretty. Besides, he thought to himself, some of these foreigners had strange powers. One of them might be able to help guide the ship through the storm.

OOC: @Smudge8 @Conway

 

Edited by Biological Chronicler
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IC: Skorm (Silver Sea, Ripple)

"True, but for now I'm going to bank on them attempting to seize what they saw as an unarmed merchant vessel." Skorm smiled. "Fortunately, they realized their mistake in short order."

The smile disappeared when Skorm noticed the airship had seemed to lose its momentum. Rain pattered the hull. Pushing himself onto his feet, the Twi-Toa yawned, covering it with a sigh. He was still slightly tired from the exertion in the battle with the visorak, but he was still in ready condition regarding is elements. "Excuse me, I'm going to check in with the captain." He didn't exactly know why, but he pulled on the hood of his tabard on the way to the bridge. Something about it felt right. Skorm didn't know if it added an air of mystery or made him look like someone trying too hard, but he didn't particularly mind as long as anyone belittling him did it out of earshot.

"Captain," Skorm spoke over the increasing sound of rain, "Why are we stopping?"

The vortixx at the helm gave him an bemused look as lightning stitched across the sky, and moments later the boom of thunder shook the ship. Skorm changed his tune. "Ah, fair enough." Skorm grabbed the receiver for the inter-ship comm and flicked it on: "Varxii, we require your assistance regarding this storm, come to the bridge."

Replacing the receiver, Skorm turned to Tugarak. "If she can deal with the lightning, could you make it through the storm?"

OOC: @Darth Jaller @Biological Chronicler

Edited by Keeper of Kraata
Adding in Tugarak

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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IC: Sans, The Notch

"These Matoran are unsure," Sans analyzed, "of this puzzle, and of themselves." Sans had dedicated his life to inspiring Matoran.  He wanted them to cast away fear.  To unite, and together, show their strength.  Sans cared about every Matoran, form the scholarly and academic Ko-Matoran, to the downtrodden and even forgotten souls, as was this newcomer.  While trying to find the words to some new inspiring speech, Sans hesitated, and saw something that warmed his heart.  One of the Ko-Matoran extended a hand towards this sickly-seeming one, and offered some tasty treat.  This was fraternity.  This was empathy.  This was love.  Sans cast away all doubts in that moment; he knew these civil workers he stumbled into were good people.  They were trustworthy, and model citizens.  He knew then that no speech would adequately change the situation nor their hearts.  Only action could affect this scene.  He quietly picked up one of the sleds, then walked towards the disks on the ground, passing the snacking Matoran. 

"You three get acquainted.  If I'm not back in an hour's time, call the Vahki!"  Sans grasped the Ta-Metru weaken disk before sprinting towards the right side chute.  The snackless Ko-Matoran never even moved his maw to speak something, anything in reply.  "These Ko-Matoran can sure be cold, huhuhuhu," he joked for the audience in his mind. As he sprinted towards his exit, Sans yelled (more to himself than to his company), "If there's a wall in our way, we'll smash it down!  If there isn't a path, we'll carve one out ourselves!" Sans almost tripped himself up in the gross makeshift covering as he plunged himself inside.  He yelled back at the Matoran, but never turned to see their faces, "We must all do our Duty!  May Mata-Nui protect me again!" And then, the current took him.  Disk in hand and all limbs tightly clinging to this robust sled, Sans prepared for the worst, and hoped for the best.  Beneath his heroic exterior, Sans was still a veteran of countless battles, and wiser for the hundred still he worked his way out of fighting.  He may be old, but Sans was far from feeble, truly, and whatever danger or mystery lie ahead would have to contend with one hero who refused to quiet down!

Edited by Azibo
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In a world where heroes and villains battle for the fate of the universe‚ some people have normal lives and work normal jobs... Zimixes

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OOC: Pushing forward...

Tunes for the road: "Commanding The Fury" from The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt.

IC: Reliable Narrator | South Of Destral | The Ripple

As Skorm made the call, a strong gust of wind forced the vortixx pilot’s hand: he could no longer control the vessel or stop it from entering the storm. The ship and its crew were pulled into the dark mass of rain and wind and lightning. Even with the Captain's speech about the weather conditions, nothing could truly prepare them for living through it.

Rain pattered against the blast ceiling of The Ripple. From the inside the crew heard it like a thunderous drum rhythm, egging them forward into the storm. They braced themselves for the worst as they flew without course, the pilot and crew doing their best to maintain altitude in the turbulence. The softest shafts of starlight glittered in the thin strip of air between ocean and roiling chaos. They mirrored on the waves below, making the ocean seem like the Heavens of another world. Inside the storm the howling gale buffeted The Ripple mercilessly, sending the airship on an unavoidable course through the slanting sheets of rain and the sudden bolts of lightning. The booming ripples of thunder were constant, like a great timpani on the inside of everyone’s heartlight making them quiver with the feeling of their own mortality against the greatness of nature. For some, the storm was home, the lightning coursing through the sky their feeling of peace and a grounding current in their lives. For others, it was sheer terror. 

Varxii saw them first, her gaze pulled by some indescribable elemental connection. Kanohi shaped scales glittering in the reflection of lightning, long snake-like bodies writhing in the storm, maws full of sparking electricity, the two kanohi dragons dancing eternally in the clouds. As soon as they appeared the kanohi dragons were gone, leaving everyone aboard to question if they truly saw them or if the storm addled their minds. Then, The Ripple flew out from the maelstrom and into the blissful eye of the storm.

They saw the Heavens far above, the Red Star once again watching their flight from the night sky. In the eye of the storm was a solitary excuse for an island, little more than two small hills protruding above the vicious sea. It was blanketed in the wreck of a massive gold and green airship, the hull leaking protodermis onto the sandy beach like a river cascading down the side of a mountain. Scorch marks coated the outside of the twisted hull. The vortixx pilot of The Ripple singled out a small strip of barren rock further down the beach for landing, and before long everyone aboard had the opportunity to walk on solid land. They had arrived.

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
Removed talking dragons because it was too cheesy
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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Taja | Ko-Metru

The door slid open without a sound. Taja walked into the knowledge tower, nodding once to the secretary. He returned the gesture: Ko-Matoran weren't unfriendly, just distant. Other Matoran often mistook that distance for hostility, but she knew better. At worst, some of her colleagues were indifferent to her, but most were cordial or even amicable. They appreciated someone who understood the value of silence.

The elevator doors slid closed, and Taja's stomach dropped as she ascended. She looked down at the iStone in her hands. It carried the latest astrological readings from one of the eastern towers, mapping the slow movements of the stars across months and even years. Here in the tower, it was her job to analyze those readings and translate them into something less arcane. Turn the heavenly dances into words that flesh and blood could understand.

The lift came to a stop at the seventy-sixth floor. The De-Matoran walked into the hallway, a rug underfoot to muffle steps that might otherwise echo against the icy walls. She entered the second door on the left and nodded to her coworker, Jaa. They shared an office, a research project, and a code of movements that could be used in place of spoken language. Jaa used this to ask her if the new readings had come in.

Yes, she signed back, sitting down at her desk. Quadrant G for the last two weeks. Quadrant J for the last seven months. And Quadrant B for the last three years.

Two weeks? he signed, his face puzzled. They've changed that much already?

She shrugged. It wasn't their job to record the stars, nor to decide when the movements were significant enough to study. It was their job only to study what they were given. And it was time to get to work.

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