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Six Kingdoms: Rebirth - Gameplay


Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green - Metru-Nui Refugees

Location - Le-Metru Nuva, on the Northwestern fringes of (7, 13) in the Fau Swamp

With - NPC Wing

 

Wing’s familiarity with Sala doused most of Viltia’s suspicions. Either the imposter had been here since before Sala had left, or had pulled the information straight from Wing’s mind with a power. For a moment Viltia wished she had been with the original villagers when they survived Metru-Nui breaking open and the giant robot head spewing them forth. They held such a close bond with each other, even non-Matoran.

Meanwhile her group from her old village was slowly re-learning what life before Skakdi slavery was like. Some of her friends had adapted well to Le-Metru Nuva, like Beruv and the healer, but others were still weak, both in mind and body. She had to make sure to protect them all.

Wing held out a crude compass which Viltia graciously accepted, a large, genuine smile on her face. She was glad Wing had thought of her. Wing was always so busy keeping everyone safe or taking the few well deserved breaks that she did take.

The compass itself made Viltia wonder how so much junk ended up in the Fau Swamp. It was like some previous civilization’s garbage dump or something. The ponds and pools were littered with refuse, most of it useless.

Viltia clutched the compass, all but sure this Wing wasn’t an imposter. “You stay safe as well. And I will do; that is, if you don’t see him first.

Giving a small wave goodbye, Viltia exited the guard hut, slipping the compass into her satchel. She wished she could inspect it more, but she didn’t have a light source handy. Lightstones had been rare before mining and only slightly less so now. Each one was precious. Spark had nabbed a sizable amount for some “secret project” he was working on, but he had a ton of those and he didn’t hide them very well, so who knew where that would lead.

Okay, but on to the next task. Viltia scanned the village in the trees, the varying heights of huts and platforms now offering a perfect system for a fake Wing to stay out of her sight, especially in the dim light of dusk. She considered making her way back up to the Kahu’s pen and viewing the village from there, but then she couldn’t see inside the huts. No, now was the time to explore each and every hut and platform. If that turned up nothing, then she would search the guard posts set up in the trees around the village. If that didn’t work, well, she guessed there were a couple more places to search that a fake Wing might be.

Viltia strode for her first hut of many.
 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

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--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

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5 hours ago, Unreliable Narrator said:

IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air

Whisper found the pipes far more spacious than expected. Perhaps it was the formless shape of her gaseous self rather than the restrictive armor she normally inhabited, but the pipes were rather cozy. She explored them and their complex internal looping back and forth before coming to a dead end of stars gazing back at her. She knew she was butting up against the left side of the room. How come she could see the stars in the pipes? How come she could see stars at the bottom of the pool?

“Are you enjoying exploring the boundaries of my suva?” The administrator asked. “I must admit I deduced you to be more commanding than curious. Perhaps your log needs further analysis.”

IC: Whisper - Ruins of Air

"I'm not exactly enthralled by this experience, no," she replied, "I think you're the one who's enjoying this, having company after so long spent alone in... wherever we are." 

@Unreliable Narrator

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Embers - a new Bionicle Epic - Coming 2024 

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: Korruhn, Piraka Fortress

Korruhn let Leklo take his own weight and draw his weapons earnestly, despite the crushed mask and other ailments he now bore from the vicious assault by Axonn. The Shadow Toa from Ko-Metru had great admiration for his ally and fellow Ko-Metruvian; a bond that ran far deeper than the common homeland. Leklo, even before becoming a Toa, bore a quality that no amount of power of protodermis could generate: heart. He had never seen a being with such pure heart and spirit, unfazed by any obstacle set in his path, no matter how insurmountable through any other lens. Leklo himself may not have yet noticed his greatest power, but Korruhn knew. He smirked quickly to his friend, before returning his attention to the maelstrom before them.

The Winds of Chaos whipped violently through the barren, unprotected lands of the beach. They were not tangible winds, unable to be felt grazing the fingers, or flittering the cloak. They didn't carry cold, or dust; ice or snow. They could not be seen, although they darkened the sky. These winds brought nothing but evil, suffering, and death.

But what was death at this point? By all accounts, Korruhn should be dead. The events of the last three weeks had tried to kill Korruhn with great vigor, and there were times he wasn't honestly sure how he survived. When Metru Nui fell... he awoke here, but Korruhn still didn't know how he actually got here. Or yet, where here even was. What was this land called Zakaz? It was assumed to be just another island, but was it really? The pieces didn't fit. And then the Far Shore? Nuju? Nothing made sense anymore, that was for sure. Perhaps nobody survived the fall of Metru Nui, and this is just some strange limbo, or even the realm of Karzahni himself?

A bloodcurdling sound emanated from the direction of Axonn and the creatures behind the firewall, seemingly coming from all at once, although only one's mouth moved. The sound was grotesque, a mixture of a gurgling growl, a Kane-Ra on the hunt, and the tortured scream of a Matoran; a combination of sounds that would surely crush the resolve of all but the strongest of wills. But Korruhn was one with the shadow, one with death itself, and he knew they would guide him on the hunt.

His arms reached up to his shoulders, and pulled the pair of jagged khopesh from their scabbards, the gold veins in the blades shimmering in the light of the firewall. From beneath the depths of his hood, light danced across the melted golden surfaces of his mask. He tightened the grip on his blades, and shook out his shoulders and neck.

The first of the beings breached around the firewall, moving erratic and staccato, it's head jumping to and fro in search of feed. The jagged claws tipping the creature's fingers clacked and snapped, ready to grip any prey unlucky enough to get within range. As it saw Korruhn, it turned, and immediately rushed, driven solely by bloodlust and violence. 

Korruhn dodged the first claw, a right hand sweeping for his face, by dipping his shoulders and head under the arm, and back up as quickly. He recovered, but a hair too late as the second claw tore into the front of his chest. Korruhn reeled in time to avoid a grab, but the claws had shredded his chest plate. The beast teetered back on the follow-through from the second shot, and Korruhn kicked it in the hip, sending it spinning, and he quickly followed up with a slash from his left blade, slicing the creature up the left side of his ribs from hip to armpit. Korruhn quickly backstepped, ensuring he had a few arm's length between he and the beast, at least enough time to read it's next move.

As expected, the beast immediately reacted, throwing it's arms wildly in a desperate attempt to inflict any sort of damage, for the claws to taste the dew of blood. It rushed, and so did Korruhn. The creature's hands instinctively reached out at shoulder level, hoping to bear-hug Korruhn. But instead, Korruhn dropped and slid, driving his khopesh out in front of him with all of his might. The blades pierced tangible flesh, but almost immediately, the creature turned to dust.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @The Captain @EmperorWhenua @~Xemnas~

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

 

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IC Stannis | Metru Nui

The chute station had been destroyed—he would not be able to reach the Archives via the mass transit system after all. Most other chutes had been shut off or been damaged by the cataclysm, and the League had not brought their armada of vessels in to the city when they invaded so vehicles were in short supply, with most civilian transports conscripted into service of the occupants. He briefly considered using his mental link to the new king to attain use of one for himself, but he thought better of it and chose to keep his collar on Aurax for more important matters. Stannis could handle his own problems himself. 

With the chutes out of the question Stannis elected to take the more laborious approach and descended a winding stairwell from the ruin of the station into the ground level of the Coliseum island and the land bridge between it and the neighboring Metru. The old being moved slowly, more so than before, and as he meandered the understory of the city the only sure companion he had was in the clinking of his weapon's pommel on the ground with every pace. The first stretch would be easily and relatively harmless, he wagered, especially at such close proximity to the nexus of power and influence the Coliseum presented, though as he neared the subterranean entrances of One-Metru and lost sight of the towering citadel in the mass of tangled derelicts and shattered foundations he was sure to encounter resistances. Dangerous rah lurked in the shadows, and both militant extremists and vagabond desperados roamed the wartorn cityscape. An old passerby like him was sure to look like an easy catch... but Stannis could handle his own problems. 

@Unreliable Narrator

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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IC: Nale Vella - Metru-Koro (Meeting The Neighbors)

What are you?

They looked like Skakdi, but...they certainly weren't like the other Skakdi she'd seen on Zakaz. Their eyes were...

Nale had to focus. She wouldn't be shaken by appearances. The Fa-Toa brandished her staff, extending it to full length. As much as she wished the party were simply visiting, the weapons they carried and the presence of the restrained warbeast made their intentions clear. She really could not catch a break.

And break, coincidentally, is what the chains holding the manas down did. The crab rahi immediately charged her, and Nale's first thought was to activate her Kakama and move out of the way, hoping no one was behind her to take on the brunt of the creature. A communication came in, perhaps a little late, from Berys.

"What something's going on down where? Over."

She swore.

"Eyeless Skakdi. Big manas. Send backup or...something."

@Unreliable Narrator@BULiK

IC: Jutori - Po-Koro (Deluge)

He pulled Bode toward himself, the Toa of Gravity doing his best to stand strong against the storm, especially in the presence of the Matoran. Jutori's optics glanced towards the entrance of the village, and upon seeing the Vahki guiding other residents to safety he remembered the transport at the gate. 

"There's a Vahki transport I can take you all to, just...just stick close to me."

@Snelly@Harvali@Toru Nui

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[BZPRPG]
(shout out to max)

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IC: Uraborask & Skrillix (The Fau Swamp)

Gunning it, Uraborask didn't even pay attention to whatever damage may have been suffered to the rig by the sudden appearance of these things or running one of them over. In addition, he didn't even pay attention to the cries of help that came from who knows where. The only thing the burly Skakdi cared about was getting out of whatever this situation was, as he wasn't in the mood to fight on uneven odds. Quickly looking through the trees, Uraborask attempted to find a clear path for him to drive through, as not to crash his rig upon a tree.

But even though he was fleeing, a part of him didn't want to simply run without leaving something for them to remember him by, and so, using the more autonomous feature of the Cordak blaster, he fired off a few rounds out towards the mass of silver and undead.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

IC: Drukarus (Irrnak's Tooth)

As Drukarus reached his full height and gazed down towards the Matoran, Drukarus realized that he may have misread the situation as he noted Grimes' reaction. Silently admonishing himself for reaching such a false conclusion, he relaxed his grip upon his maul as he waited to hear what Grime had to say.

“For what I know I demand freedom. Will you make good on your word last night?”

At that, not even Drukarus could suppress the slight look of surprised upon his face that shifted to a sad look as he shook his head and planted his hand upon his face. Dropping down to one knee, being closer to eye level with the Matoran, Drukarus spoke out in a calm, low manner, "You seem to have misunderstood my intentions Grime...When I promised you freedom, I did not mean freedom from the Warskak, for you are apart of it...What I meant, was freedom from the pain, from the abuse..." 

Drukarus paused for a brief moment, concerned if there was anything else to say, whether or not it was worth to say more and whether what he already said was sufficient before he came to a conclusion. "And although I have only been upon this mysterious land for two weeks time from my reckoning, I recognize the hostility which it holds...One that a lone Matoran like yourself could not survive alone...I assure you Grimes, that I take the wellbeing of those within my Warskak as my main concern...And you Grimes, are amongst my Warskak.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

IC: Apex (The Grand Temple Ruins)

"I recognize it as your people's tongue, Apex, but I do not understand it. Is this not what you came here seeking, then?"

"Yes Morangad indeed, this was indeed what I have been seeking, I simply desired to know whether you recognized it as something more as I myself see it." Turning her attention towards Taja and Morangad, Apex felt oddly uncomfortable. Her goal was literally in sight, but for some reason, the idea of leaving herself unaware of the other two as she focused upon the writings bothered her. No matter, there was strength to be had.

"If you two care to heed my words, I would request you to leave for a brief moment. I require full concentration if I am to properly absorb the knowledge of the text." Returning her gaze to the etching on the wall, Apex tried her best to focus her total attention upon the writing, hoping that at last, she will find what she needs and be granted what she desires.

OOC: @Burnmad @Eyru @Unreliable Narrator

IC: Sala (The Air Suva)

Returning to the conversation from his thoughts, Sala listened as Nixie, now Vhisola, spoke before he responded to her. "Well, I don't think Maker is in the necessarily literal sense. Before Sorilax and I got here, we were at Metru-Koro and uhm..." Sala paused for a moment as the memory of the great ball of plasma streaking through the sky haunted his mind, the quivering of his Kraata breaking him out of his thought, "Something happened and...Well...It might just be easier to show you I suppose."

Engaging the mechanism, the chest plate of Avagah raised itself and granted Sala the ability to leave the ACR. Fully exiting the ACR, the first time since he met Vhisola, Sala climbed down from the chest compartment and turned around in front of Nixie, gesturing towards the nape of his neck and upper back. As Vhisola looked, she would catch the sight of a organic, worm-like creature. A sandy blue metallic head was seemingly clamped, no, more like fused, to the nape of Sala's neck. A dark grey formed the body and tail of this creature as it ran down the Su-Matoran's spine.

"I was desecrated by Sorilax back in Metru-Koro, and it might be that ritual of binding that has made Sorilax my maker." Standing there, outside of Avagah, exposed to the world, Sala stood there in a timid stance, seemingly uncomfortable within his own frame, or maybe metaphorically speaking, without his frame. 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Kal the Guardian

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IC Kanohi and Bode and “Collector” - Po-Koro

Kanohi grappled back to the Le-Matoran, and slammed his Kiril Staff to the hut. The stone roof and walls regrew from his touch, that should buy more time. Bracing himself, the vigilante turned Akiri hoisted the next Matoran onto his back. He strained under the weight, stumbling in place.

H-hold on tight,” he urged the Le-Matoran, even as he struggled to aim. He dropped down, using his Kiril Staff as a cane. His optics squinted as his back ached, before he fired his Volo Lutu Launcher. A ball of gravitational force launched from it, smacking into a hut. Kanohi swallowed, before being ripped from his perch over the flooding buildings. 

Below, Collector waded through the mud with two Matoran sitting on their shoulders, clinging to their head. On their waist a Le-Matoran clung to them, holding for dear life. As they approached the transport they periodically stabbed their Kanoka Blade into the mud, freezing more of the ground.

Do you have an instinct for the direction of storms?” They turned to ask the Le-Matoran cling to their back. She shook her head, and they mused, “Shame. It would be nice to have confirmation. I think the rain is beginning to thin out, the storm may be moving away.

Overhead Kanohi soared through the air, before grappling onto another hut, and another. He swung across the sinking village, before tumbling onto the Vahki transport.

The Le-Matoran crawled off his rescuer, but Kanohi just laid there, panting. “I … I need a moment,” he managed, “I am sorry, I h-haven’t done this really since the Impact. There … there is a Le-Matoran who climbed up onto a roof in the west side of the village. If … if someone … can get them…

The Fe-Matoran couldn’t distinguish the pain he felt much, but was vaguely aware that his foot ached worse than the rest of his throbbing body. The same foot that he had sprained in the impact. Was the injury acting up on him again? The same injury that had kept him from grappling much after the Impact, the reason he was rusty?

Suddenly he felt someone lift him up, and cradle him in their left arm. “We will go together, friend, I will carry them, you will help me keep the terrain stable, and scout for trouble,” Collector said as they carried him. They had dropped the three Matoran on the transport, they should be safe there.

Funny,” Collector smirked a toothy grin, “You are a Matoran, a great Matoran. You should know the greatest power you have is friendship, your Unity. We are stronger together.” Kanohi didn’t reply, still panting but he still made a faint smile beneath his many masks. He … he would take this time to rest, then scout.

Elsewhere Bode was dragged out of the mud, his feet off the ground for the first time since the raid. He looked up in front of him, to the Toa who saved him. Even after all he had done. A shiver went down Bode’s spine and he whispered “Th-thank you, Toa. I … I am so sorry.”

OOC: @pokemonlover360 @Toru Nui @Onaku @Snelly @Tarn

IC Mahrika - “The Mask of Water(fall) Breathing”

Mahrika ran over to look at the basin, Though she tripped and hand to fling out her arms to rebalance. Then she walked over to the basin, too late to see anything but the few last ripples in the water.

She paused, and said, “I can freeze the water, but I don’t know why we would want to. And it might take a while to thaw. And I’m not sure the puzzle would depend on the solver having ice powers. What do you think we need to do?” This was directed not just at Ollem but at Vokarda and Tuakana, in the hope one of the three would have an idea what to do. 

As she waited she swept her telescopic lens around the room. The last puzzle had details buried under the sand, they had almost missed vital clues. Were other hints to the puzzle somewhere around the chamber? Or were there places were a hint could be buried, to be uncovered?

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad @Eyru

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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

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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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10 hours ago, Tarn said:

IC: Nale Vella - Metru-Koro (Meeting The Neighbors)

What are you?

They looked like Skakdi, but...they certainly weren't like the other Skakdi she'd seen on Zakaz. Their eyes were...

Nale had to focus. She wouldn't be shaken by appearances. The Fa-Toa brandished her staff, extending it to full length. As much as she wished the party were simply visiting, the weapons they carried and the presence of the restrained warbeast made their intentions clear. She really could not catch a break.

And break, coincidentally, is what the chains holding the manas down did. The crab rahi immediately charged her, and Nale's first thought was to activate her Kakama and move out of the way, hoping no one was behind her to take on the brunt of the creature. A communication came in, perhaps a little late, from Berys.

"What something's going on down where? Over."

She swore.

"Eyeless Skakdi. Big manas. Send backup or...something."

IC: Taku Crew, Metru-Koro Plaza, The Taku

Berys groaned and turned nervously to Triage.

"Well... partially regretting not flying away right about now. Can you uh... tell Ulkarr to find Nale? You were in the army, right? Maybe if you can't find him you can help or something, I don't know. I'll make sure the Taku's ready to take off and pick you up if things get really bad down there. Not much else I can do here."

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Visit www.BZPRPG.com to view my project of archiving BZPower's RPGs, and also access the BZPower Roleplaying Wiki

BZPRPG Profiles - Ghosts Of Bara Magna Profiles

Exo-Force RPG Profiles - Six Kingdoms: Apocalypse (Knichou, Berys, Arnex, The Taku, Exuze)

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IC: Okuo - Le-Metru Underground

Okuo limped on, his back sore, his knees on the verge of giving up. His sorry state wasn't for any lack of exercise, far from it; but bruised and beaten as he was from the Muaka's attacks earlier, on top of having to carry his shield on his back all this way, it all compounded to drain Okuo of his stamina the further he went. The ever intrepid Toa of Fire found himself at the very edge of his hope by the time he finally recognised the faint distant glow of natural light in the otherwise utterly darkened tunnels. Slowly but surely he made his way onward, until at last he saw it, a tunnel ending in a massive hole leading to the outside.

From so low in the head of the fallen god, Okuo could not see the settlement itself behind the hills it had been built, but even then he could tell something was off. Not that it mattered, he had no way to actually get there as it stood. With a sigh, Okuo slumped to the floor, groaning as he removed the shield and rucksack from his back. Idly he began browsing through his bag in the half-hearted hope of finding something of use for this situation. A noble Hau certainly wouldn't help here. Nor would a misshapen knowledge crystal. Or a dagger.

Although… Okuo recalled and recognized that this was a kanoka dagger. He wasn’t sure what power it had, but he figured he might as well try it out. Standing up, the dagger in hand, he aimed it toward the other end of the tunnel and tried to activate it.

It took him a second to realize he was suddenly standing on the other end of the tunnel, far away from his bag and shield. His eyes widened in recognition. Quick travel. He'd just experienced quick travel. Okuo let out a yelp of disbelief before laughing with joy. A way out. A way home. Though the fact that the dagger had transported him with it was strange... Something to look into later.

Trying it once again, Okuo aimed the dagger and looked where he wanted to go, finding himself once more pulled near instantly to the location he’d been looking… Well, a little further than he’d been looking, as he suddenly found himself balancing precariously on the edge of the tunnel hole above a steep drop down into the toxic lake below. 

Very narrowly, he managed to shift his weight enough to fall backwards away from the edge, landing on his back with a pained grunt before quickly crawling back to his items. Not super easy to use, since not only had Okuo never used a Kualsi, but he'd also only been using masks of power for about a week or so, nowhere near mastering them yet. Slinging his bag and shield back on, Okuo peered at the dagger, then back down the darkened hallway, taking the dagger for another spin. If he could get it just right, he'd be able to get back to Metru-Koro.

But ideal circumstances are a rare breed in this world. As Okuo looked behind him at the broken wall panel he'd intended to travel to with disappointment over how far away it was, he couldn't help but pick up on a steadily louder sound coming from down the tunnel. Okuo had only spared a glance down that corridor before he recognised the rapidly approaching muaka he'd fought earlier, flanked by a couple more muaka. It seemed the cat had brought friends. Okuo wasn't interested in getting acquainted. With one more focused use of the dagger, he returned to the tunnel hole, a mere step away from the edge again. He looked over his shoulder. The muaka were charging around the corner. He turned back to look out the hole. He could see the bank on the other side of the lake. He had no time to think, only do. With focused exertion, Okuo used the dagger once more...

Edited by Onaku
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IC Leklo | Ruined Fort

As Leklo saw his friend rush off again to do battle with what he could only perceive as wraiths, Leklo looked at his hand, not quite understanding what had transpired. He intuitively knew he was still connected to the Ko-Suva and was aware of the items deposited, but try as he did to withdraw the electric weapon within it would not appear in his hand.

Err-or, he kept hearing in his head. It was an heavily-accented droning voice like the old AI systems he found in abandoned knowledge towers back home that struggled to properly enunciate the Rs. He tried to pull the blade again. Err-or. He would not be able to pull anything from the Suva after all, probably due to not having anything to trade with. 

Well, and blast, he thought, abandoning the thought. Bereft of weapons and failed by his backup, Leklo would have to resort to other tactics. He could hear the scowling and gashing of teeth coming from a multitude of directions as the unknown foes coalesced to feed, drawn to the sweet smells of life and fear the dauntless toa projected uncontrollably. Leklo was the weakest link among the toa there by far, apparently powerless and weaponless as he was, battered and bruised from the duel with Axonn and wounded in pride and body both. If there was easy prey to be had, Leklo would seem to be it. A trio of the malevolent entities came around their corners and instantly drew their eyes to him, singling Leklo as their most eagerly wanted prize as he oozed of everything they hankered. 

"Alright," he said to himself, quickly summing up his desirability to them without so much as a second thought. They looked like death to Leklo, an antithesis to his nature and abilities, and he was certain to challenge them so long as he was able. Fighting them was not yet an option, and hoping someone else saved him had never even crossed his mind, so that left only one other route. "Let's see how well my legs still work. Come and get me, demons!!!"

And then Leklo turned and ran as fast as he could away from the ruin.

@Unreliable Narrator

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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IC: Grime | Ash Barrens

"I want proof. I want real freedom." The diminutive Grime stood steadfast in front of the much larger and deadlier warrior. "I want to be free to follow as I wish behind your war rig, not to bend until I break as forced. No more spare tire compartment. If you grant me the same half-life as Boss did, I cannot offer more. I will follow the divining sphere regardless. She is the only reason why I'm here."

In Drukarus's mind he felt the same presence as the evening prior. It said simply; it is decidedly so.

OOC @Sparticus147, just some quick Grime while I work on other stuff.

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
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Happy chat.

 

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IC, Aurax and OTIS: Coliseum

Aurax continued to stare at the computer screen. He heard someone approaching and turned around- it was Saybo.

"There you are. Ehlek seems to have removed himself from the picture, so we're gonna go and move onto the next phase of my plan. We'll need to go down into the Vahki hive here in the Coliseum so I can do some reprogramming. Wait here for a minute while I go get something..."

The Toa walked briskly back to the elevator and rode back up to Pridak's-no, his- throne room. His ACR was standing right where he left it.

"Can I be of some assistance, sir?" the robot asked through its speakers. 

"Yeah, I just need to borrow your brain really quick..." said Aurax as he walked up to the ACR's back. He reached up and slid a panel open, revealing a tangle of wires and a modified Vahki brain. Aurax unplugged the wires and gently removed the brain from the mech suit. He then walked back to the elevator and rode it back down to the floor below.

When the doors opened, he called out to Saybo. "Get in Saybo," he said.

OOC: @Kal the Guardian

IC, Atamai: Fort

Atamai narrowed his eyes and grimaced at the two undead charging him. Feeling a little lazy, he used his elemental power to fling his hammer at the back of the head of the undead on the right, after which he had the hammer immediately swing around and crush the skull of the second one.

I need to stop Axonn, he thought to himself. He looked down at the disks and had an idea.

Once again calling on his elemental power, he floated the six disks in a circle in front of him. Thin metal wires began to stretch out from the three middle fingers on each hand, each one attaching itself to a disk. 

You want the disks, Axonn? You can have them.

Atamai focused, and activated the powers of all six disks at once.

He gritted his teeth and strained against the power. The disks glowed and shook violently. A sphere of energy formed between the disks, and flew out to Axonn. Atamai hoped that the power would cut Axonn off from the undead and incapacitate him.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

IC, Whira: Outside Ruins of Fire

Whira said nothing as she waited for Providence's response.

OOC: @Sparticus147 @Burnmad  

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IC: Saybo - Toa of Water - Aurax

Location - The Coliseum (4, 9), 49th Floor Receptionist Room

With - (Great Being) Aurax

 

Saybo immediately obeyed the command, swiftly entering the elevator. He bowed his head respectfully to his Great Being, “I have secured Pridak’s Matatu within my backpack, pending any future orders.

Saybo noted Aurax seemed to be holding himself well. Good. That meant a large portion of healing must have already taken place. The sooner his Great Being’s vessel was healed, the better.
 

OOC: @~Xemnas~

-----------------------------

--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

-----------------------------

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Water

Mahrika did her best to perceive any hidden clues in the space surrounding her and Ollem. Sure enough, she found small scraps of sheet metal with different matoran words carved into them: dumb, stupid, puzzle, and igiveupthokisameanie were littered about the base of the pedestal.

ooc: @Burnmad, @Harvali, @Eyru

 

IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruined Fortress

Leklo’s full sprint retreat drew the attention of three ravenous specters. They bounded and crawled across the beach after him. To them, Leklo represented nothing but a chance to satiate their hunger.

The specter carved in half by Korruhn’s fierce attacks burst like a bag full of sand. The smallest particles of its being glittered like tiny grey and purple diamonds before turning to dark smoke on the wind. Within the banishment of one specter, Korruhn’s right arm pulsed with malevolent power. A lidded eye opened on his arm, surrounded by the ghostly imprint of a hand. A sudden choice fell upon him as Korruhn alone beheld a rift in the world around him. 

Would he crawl through to the Far Shore again, or would he also summon a great fiend into the Time Between Time?

OOC: @~Xemnas~, I'll get Axxon up in a little bit. I want Ultan to have a chance to go too. :) Speaking of... @EmperorWhenua, @Crimson Jester, and @The Captain. Let's get this fight wrapped up. :) 

 

IC: Vhisola | Air Suva

Vhisola visibly recoiled, although she wished she hadn’t. Slugs were weird though! Especially matoran eating slugs! She felt the pit of her stomach drop. 

“I uh, guess that, uh, maybe that has something to do with it.” She swallowed her fear and took a deep breath. In times like these she found looking around and reacquainting with her environment helpful. Back in her old apartment she’d look through her telescope to see if anyone was hard at work during their study hours or if they decided to slack off in one of Nokama’s prestigious classes. In the immediate moment she could focus on Sala, the war suit -- what else could it be -- he stepped out of, and the surrounding temple. Eventually she calmed down enough to think about something simpler: lunch. Or maybe dinner?

“I don’t mean to totally change the subject, but where did you both come from? I assume you live nearby but I didn’t see any settlement on the way here. I traveled from Metru-Koro which is pretty close to the old world. Had a levitation disk. Now I don't have a levitation disk."

She didn't really want to get into the story about the fire toad eating her. That would be too embarrassing.

ooc: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147

 

IC: The Administrator | Ruins of Air

Apex read the words inscribed in the middle chamber, and came so close to understanding, but two portions of the ritual were still unclear. Something didn't make sense, and the softly glowing triangle of a symbol in the wall didn't radiate with a full glow either. Perhaps the aspect of beasts had further still to go in uncovering her prize.

"Oh? You really thought it'd be that easy to uncover the lost dark magic of a heretic within my halls," the Administrator asked with a laugh. "Oh no, your fellow brethren did a much better job than that. They'll leave your head spinning before you figure out what they meant. At least I've been left spinning. It's all very confusing."

ooc: @Burnmad, @Sparticus147, @Nato the Traveler, @Eyru

 

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Sorilax - Aspect of Shadow and Silence - Aspects of Makuta

Location - Air Suva

With - Sala, Vhisola

 

Sorilax had moved the Shadow table and chair and started sketching the mural on the Suva itself. His strokes with the pen were precise from thousands of years of practice. He knew how to best represent the 3D form of the mural in a 2D depiction. Keeping certain lines while forgoing others to keep the important forms clear. Emphasis of line weight was key as well.

His process was so well practiced that he was able to answer Vhisola while he continued drawing, “I have a home temple south on the Kumu Islets. I engrave the knowledge I gather on stone tablets there and then hide them for safe keeping. I was there about… Hummm… Well I do believe it was two to three weeks ago. I had finished an island-wide study on the native structures and their outward appearances and possible purposes. I then interviewed all new Aspects that would let me, after which I set out to make new scrolls when the giant head fell.

Sorilax put the finishing touches on a Toa in the mural, “I met Sala here soon after that. He had fallen into quicksand in the Fau Swamp and I saved him. I then met the roughly forty others of his group and I helped them survive here in the swamp. It is too dangerous for them to leave, you see. This place and its marshes have killed many hundreds of Skakdi, even in large groups.

He added a small flare to the top of a Rahkshi spine, though somehow he knew no Rahkshi actually had spines that looked like that, “At least to leave as they were, all downtrodden and bereft of the technology they were used to. Now, though they are fewer in number, the good beings of the recently established Le-Metru Nuva are making a rather decent living in the Fau Swamp.

The eight-pointed star seemed to emanate from the Kaita in his drawing, “And to be quite honest, despite how dangerous this swamp is, at least the Skakdi raiders aren’t around to kill them. They can be much worse than a mutated ecosystem. And that’s not even to mention the, what did you call it Sala? Oh yes, the League attacked Metru-Koro, devastating it. We were there to repair my body and tried to help save Matoran where we could, but we are not warriors and when the village guard ran for safety, we ran as well.

Sorilax shook his head, still saddened by that night. So many good beings were lost to violence. He added a sketch of the Suva itself, “When we stopped to rest, I watched the battle conclude. Most everyone lived, hidden in some caves. All the hostile airships, (that’s a ship that can fly, incredible things) all the attacking airships were destroyed, so the defense was a success, though the damage was devastating.

He had already drawn up the room before and so added a sketch of the back window. Finer details would have to wait for some other day. The beacon of light from the north pulsed in his mind, calling him to what he hoped was change. True change.

Sorilax laid out the scroll to dry as much as it could in the current humidity. He made a pair of Shadow arms, the one hand holding the other’s elbow while the other hand scratched at his chin, “I just realized we need to make sure you remain safe, Vhisola. I do not believe it would be right if we just left you behind all on your own. If you would like, after we finish investigating the items in the Suva, we could take you wherever you wish to go. Or…” Sorilax looked at Sala, hoping the Matoran would be okay with what he was about to offer. Sala didn’t seem adverse to Vhisola, so it would probably be fine, “You may join us in our quest to explore another ruin if you so wish. We would be heading to the center of the island, to a hidden ruin that I do not believe many others know about. Based on some rock carvings I discovered nearby it, I believe it was once called Kini-Nui.

 

OOC: @Sparticus147 @Unreliable Narrator

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-----------------------------

--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

-----------------------------

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IC: Korruhn, Piraka Fortress

The Shadow Toa slid clear through the cloud of crystalline dust that once was his adversary, halting his momentum with a forward roll into a kneeling stance, both hands firmly planted in front of him, his obsidian, gold-veined pair of khopesh still affixed between his thumbs and fingers. To his left, Atamai charged with all the ferocity of a hungry Kane-Ra, harnessing the awesome power of the six Great Discs, while Ultan miraculously maintained the wall of fire in front of Axonn. Turning his head further, Korruhn spotted Leklo, unarmed and being pursued by three of the creatures. Instinctively, Korruhn spun, throwing one of his khopesh high in the air, assisted by the Toa's control over gravity, towards his friend. Hopefully it would help.

As Korruhn got the blade close enough to Leklo to withdraw his attention from it, the very air in front of Korruhn tore wide open, as though it were a festering wound in the fabric of space-time itself. The image inside warped shape and color, but through the distorted image, Korruhn could see the battered face of a white figure gaze directly at him, as though it could see the Toa through the Void. Though Korruhn's every logical though told him to question what was before him, he hadn't the time for quandary nor anything else of the sort. The battle raged, he and his friends were battered, and they needed a solution -- fast.

Korruhn let go of all thought, focusing his attention on the void before him. His now-empty left hand reached out to the void, both a mere inch and a billion miles away at the same time. As his fingers inched closer, a black, tarry substance formed on his outstretched arm; first in droplets, which pooled to globs, which trailed into a solid cord that snaked from his wrist, seemingly reaching into the void before him. Korruhn's eyes widened as one of the helpless beings he saw walking the Far Shore before: a hideous black form not unlike a Matoran, but twisted, sickly, and malicious. It's eyes glowed a dead yellow, and the noble Mahiki on it's face was a horrid mixture of a black that seemed to absorb all light, and a horrible rust color. The creature was suddenly tethered to the other end of Korruhn's cord, and it immediately leapt through the tear before it disappeared out of thin air.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @EmperorWhenua @The Captain @~Xemnas~

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image.png.c80b02daebe0faa6146a8dfce1ccb188.png

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

 

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IC: Ulkarr and Gnabol (Metru-Koro)

Ulkarr saw the entity known as Skorm be accosted by his enemy - the Mesi. The most barbaric of all Zakaz’s miscreant tribes, in his opinion.

He wasn’t sure if Skorm had the situation in hand or not, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to try and help him. Tendrils of solid shadow manifested from his outstretched palm, moving to pull the Toa out of the earth that was trying to swallow him.

Gnabol wasn’t quite in the path of the Manas, but he ran a little to the side just to be sure. He tried to inject calming thoughts into the creature’s mind, in an attempt to placate it.

@Unreliable Narrator@Keeper of Kraata@Tarn

 

IC: Ostrox and Klawne (Metru-Koro, The Razorfish, Exterior)

Well, this was a step-up, at least. Perhaps the residents would finish the Matoran off for them, though they seemed like the type to destroy everything in their path. It’s a wonder they and the Toa weren’t getting along. Ostrox placed his hand on his sword, and the other one retreated into his robes for his Rhotuka Launcher, in case they were needed.

Klawne saw the Mesi - Skakdi - Monsters - defile the corpses of those they had killed without need or pity, collecting macabre trophies from the innocent, as if their carnage was something to be proud of. Just like...

No. Not again. Never again.

Brandishing her spear, the Turaga then vanished into nothing, leaving only faint footsteps behind.

@Smudge8@Nato the Traveler@Onaku

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Metru-Nui

As Stannis picked his way through the ruins of Metru-Nui towards his destination, the aged deceiver couldn’t help but notice how much the world changed since he first came to be. He stood in the wreckage of Mata-nui, the world before him forever changed as the truth became revealed beyond the mind of gods and mortals. There, out beyond in the dying rays of sunlight refracting off melting knowledge towers, was the Time Between Time. The time that should have never existed, never begun, and never found again.

With limitless freedoms bestowed by his true form, Stannis chose to walk slowly and with purpose from one Metru to another on his quest. He saw rahi fighting for new territory. He saw death. In remote pockets of the city he also saw life. A group of league warriors, five takeans and a renegade toa who broke from the faith, passed overhead on their patrols across the high walkways between buildings. Stannis remained unseen in the ruins below, his grey cloak blending in with the broken road.

At last the Wanderer arrived in Onu-Metru and the Archives themselves. The ground was churned, as if a great earthquake broke the entire district. The damaged limbs and weapons of buried soldiers broke the surface like a strange garden gone to seed. The scent of decay lingered everywhere. It got into Stannis’s cloak and followed him like a chute jumper into the depths of the Archives.

ooc: @EmperorWhenua

 

IC: Vhisola | Air Suva

“Metru-Koro was bombed?” Horror plastered itself clearly across her mask. How much more could the League take from her? The terrifying vision of her teacher buried beneath rubble or grabbed by League soldiers filled her mind. Vhisola couldn’t stop them from taking everything that mattered away from her. She’d never been able to stop them. Worse, she wasn’t even there to try. Vhisola was powerless, even after helping find a Great Disk deep beneath the waves near Ga-Metru. Did her drive to learn, to explore, to help others mean nothing? The League didn’t seem to care.

“I need to get home, as soon as possible. As much as I’d love to continue exploring, there’s something that matters to me than learning about this new world. Someone that matters more to me. Do you have a way I can get back quickly and safely? I promise I’ll repay you.”

OOC: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147

 

IC: Reliable Narrator | Le-Metru Nuva, Fau Swamp

Wing left the guard house, walking back towards the pens where the flying rahi were kept. She couldn’t help but notice Viltia striding across the village with a purposed determination to her step. It made her feel a little safer knowing Le-Metru Nuva had such a caring toa on its side. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who came to see the kahus when dealing with tough decisions.

“Heard about the evacuation,” Spark said while patting the beak of a kahu. Wing didn’t particularly like that fact. She and Torch were supposed to break the news. She also didn’t particularly like that the vortixx stood about three times her height. She climbed up onto the fencing of the pen, wrapping her legs around the top boards to stay balanced. A little closer to eye level, Wing replied, perhaps a little too tensely;

“What do you mean?”

Spark didn’t look from the kahu. “I mean we’re leaving here. It’s not surprising, given what Sidra said about the undead and with Torch and Viltia talking about something bad happening and needing to find a way to keep everyone alive. And them too,” Spark pointed towards the rest of the village.

“We might not have to evacuate yet. Not permanently. Sidra and Viltia are planning on finding us a safe place to hide, or better yet a plan of attack.” Wing relaxed a little, the tension in her shoulders giving way as she turned away from Spark to look out at the village. Everyone moved quickly, knowing something was happening but not what. Unknowns were far more terrifying these days. What world awaited them outside of Metru-Nui? Where could they get water in the putrid swamps? Who could be trusted to lead them safely? Where to next? Too many questions. Wing liked actions, not questions. The hand she felt on her shoulder brought her back from her ruminations.

“You have a plant on you, here,” Spark said cautiously as he tried to wipe it off.

“A what?”

“A plant. Stay still.” Spark wiped until only a smudge of the young plant growing in Wing’s armor remained. “There. Someone play a trick on you or is this another thing to worry about?”

Wing thought about it, then it hit her: Viltia! The toa of the green probably meant it as a prank, something to liven the mood in these hard times. Why didn’t she feel like laughing about it though? She turned back around to look at Spark, but he was gone. How could a vortixx move that fast?

Something itched on her back. Probably just the remains of the plant, Wing thought. She scratched it absentmindedly while turning back to the kahus to think. While she did the first droplets of rain began to fall in the finest, smallest, droplets. The kahu buzzed its feathers as the weather began to change.

“Of course it would rain,” Wing grumbled...

 

Sidra found the lumber yard outside Le-Metru Nuva to be a decent rallying point. However, the open marshy ground began to slowly turn a darkened moss green as rain began to timidly fall. Without clouds in the sky to block the evening air, Sidra could assume the wind carried the rain from further off. She smelled the tell tale trace of electricity in the air. A storm brewed somewhere to the North…

 

Uraborask roared forward with his war rig, plowing over the horde of fallen bodies. The cordak detonated behind him, leaving a trail of roaring crimson and yellow flames and shrieking undead. In the rearview mirror through the smoke the hunter could see the bodies reforming, still glowing and singed by the fire, and the disgusting veins of mucous-like webbing pulsing with renewed vigor as any plants surviving the blasts on the scorched ground around the corpses began to wither and die...

 

The chirping of her drones via the wrist-mounted control screen interrupted her reconnaissance. The two drones followed Sidra’s orders and controls precisely as possible, making their way fifteen minutes out from the village and stationing themselves in trees to wait for signs of large movement. One chirped with activity as a rolling war rig burst from between two jungle trees and roared through the swamp, water splashing high up past its windows. The rear-mounted cordak blaster fired with loud concussive sounds, the cordak missiles exploding into the Fau Swamp further behind. The distant sound of discordant shrieking echoed over the monitor…

 

Viltia stepped into the first hut, finding a matoran she knew hurriedly packing. Match turned around, concern on his face. He dropped the pottery vase in his hands, and the loud sound of it shattering filled the small hut. He groaned with frustration.

“Oh, Viltia! I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in and now… Oh no, I was supposed to pack that for Beruv safely.”

ooc: @Sparticus147, @Nato the Traveler, @Kal the Guardian

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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Sorilax - Aspect of Shadow and Silence - Aspects of Makuta

Location - Air Suva

With - Sala, Vhisola

 

Sorilax considered Vhisola’s request as he put away his scrolls. The only decently safe way back was with Sala and himself. His knowledge of what to avoid and when had allowed Sala and himself almost complete access to the Fau Swamp and the rest of Zakaz beyond it. Even lending her Avagah would prove to be inadequate. The outcome there would most likely still end up leading to her demise.

Plus Sorilax was more concerned with Sala staying safe. He knew not what dangers might lurk in the locales he knew he must explore to accomplish his Grand Wish. And not being one who had practiced any form of combat art, he couldn’t rely on himself alone to keep Sala safe. No, Avagah wasn’t being loaned out anytime soon.

Standing, Sorilax dismissed the Shadow table and chair, “Unfortunately, we have no means to return you safely back to your home other than having Sala and I accompany you. This island is fraught with dangers. But I hope I speak for Sala as well when I say we would gladly walk you back to your home. It would only be a day or two out of our way in any case.

Sorilax considered the Suva, “Although perhaps this Suva might hold a better answer. Maybe one of the items within can help you traverse the perilous journey back home. Sala, Avagah’s sword should be the right size to exchange for the hatchet, would you be so kind?

Turning to look at Vhisola, he couldn’t help but notice the look of concern mixed with slight horror from his earlier news. A small part of him reacted with pity, but what jumped immediately into his mind was that she was ripe for manipulating. She was off balance mentally and now was the perfect moment to gently nudge her where he wanted. Sorilax frowned at the thought. He still had a long way to go.

Vhisola, perhaps exchange for the mask? Maybe it is special and a Matoran can use it.

 

OOC: @Sparticus147 @Unreliable Narrator

 

IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green - Metru-Nui Refugees

Location - Le-Metru Nuva, on the Northwestern fringes of (7, 13) in the Fau Swamp

With - NPC Match

 

Viltia was once again amazed with the level of quiet the village managed to keep, even in trying circumstances. The Fau Swamp had truly left its imprint on them. Guards moved about while everyone else gathered supplies, their forms dipping in and out of the torches and lightstones underneath the covered walkways, bridges, and platforms.

As Viltia crossed a bridge, she realized the constant small swaying that came from building a village on tree branches had become just another pleasant feature of home instead of feeling unsettling and like she was constantly about to fall. Something scurried above her on the underside of the bridge’s roof. It was just a very small Fikou spider, trying to make his way in the world.

That had been an unintended consequence of protecting themselves from the occasional acid rain shower. Insects and all manor of spiders had tried making their homes on the undersides of their village’s protective covering. That had created a new job of pest control. And with her mask power, she had quickly been conscripted and had taken care of many a bug.

Viltia took notice as the hardy desert flower, or more accurately, as Wing moved to the trained Kahu’s pen. She wasn’t sure if that was concerning or not. Wing had played a decent role in taming it in the first place. No, she was fairly certain that that Wing was the real one. As long as she could- The flower was ripped away!

Viltia felt it tear, its stem and petals crushed by a hand. How!? She had grown the plant underneath Wing’s back shoulder in a groove in the armor. It would have been hard to see in the light of day, let alone now, when dusk was all but gone. Wing’s armor was already green, even! No way Wing had seen it.

No, Wing hadn’t seen it. So that meant someone else must have noticed it, and probably through use of a power. But who would be up in the Kahu’s pen with Wing?

She considered going up there, but the roots of the plant were still attached to Wing and she had already ruled out the Le-Matoran as being the imposter. Maybe she would ask Wing about it after she had finished her search. Right now she had to make sure everyone else was safe. Wing could handle herself. Especially with all the new level one and two Kanoka Sidra, Beruv, and herself had been making.

The sound of rain softly started to hit the roof above her as she stopped walking. Oh great, of course something else would go wrong. Viltia listened closely. There was no sizzle as the rain struck the acid-resistant bark roofing. Good, at least it was just normal water.

Viltia stepped into the cabin before her. Match was there packing, his yellow and red coloring jumping out even in the dim light of several candles. The other five beds were already emptied and most everyone else’s core possessions were gone, with many non-necessities left behind.

Match turned around, concern on his face. He dropped the pottery vase in his hands, and the loud sound of it shattering filled the small hut. He groaned with frustration.

Oh, Viltia! I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in and now… Oh no, I was supposed to pack that for Beruv safely.

No, no! I’m sorry, I should have announced myself. But I’m sure we can just make another one later. No doubt we can find more clay elsewhere.” Viltia noted the precision tooling he had almost finished packing up. All the tools and all the things she couldn’t begin to recognize were new and shiny protosteel. No doubt Torch and Match had made those tools just earlier in the day like they had planned out yesterday. It was a shame Match wouldn’t be able to use them, at least for tonight.

The village was so close to creating machines and electronics again. Well, okay, that was Match and Spark’s department, but it felt close to Viltia. Yes, there was the problem of finding rare ores, which meant mining deeper safely, which meant Viltia needed to craft a Kanohi of X-Ray vision, but it felt so close. Vitlia could almost feel the forging tools in her hand as she crafted the mask. She was so ready to learn.

Of course there was also the question of power. The two solar panels left barely charged the iStones and mining equipment that had been scavenged from the giant robot head in the marshes. They needed to figure out a way to generate more power, especially in a way that didn’t attract attention.

Viltia pat Match on his shoulder, glad he had spoken to her. He wasn’t very talkative, generally focused on his own thoughts or his work. He spoke to Spark often in low tones, but Spark had the same type of mechanical mind, so that didn’t really surprise her. “Just making sure everyone’s safe. I see you’re doing fine, and your bunkmates have already finished up. I should get going.

Viltia stepped a few feet away to leave the cabin. After the guard hut and this one, that left thirteen more to check. She pulled aside the dried reeds that had been woven to be a door of sorts. The rain lightly plonk-ed on the collective roof of the village and the leaves that were the main view of the residents in Le-Metru Nuva.

 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

Edited by Kal the Guardian
Added Viltia.
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-----------------------------

--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

-----------------------------

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IC: Sidra - Le-Metru Nuva

For several long seconds, she just stared in profound confusion at the sight unfolding on the screen before her. She'd expected undead monsters or panicked rahi, not a... whatever the karz this contraption was. Still, she knew a cordak blaster when she saw one, and though there were probably plenty of things in the swamp worth firing a cordak at, she wasn't going to stand by and hope this was something completely unrelated. 

Life was rarely that kind. 

She activated her Kanohi, sinking through the shadow of a nearby tree and emerging a few minutes later in the darkened corner of her hut back in Le-Metru Nuva.

"We've got incoming!" She burst out of the hut, looking around for Torch or Viltia or anyone else she recognised. "Get ready!" 

@Kal the Guardian

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

IC: Whisper - Air Temple Ruins

Still nestled in the pipes, Whisper wasn't able to make out all of what the Administrator had said to others, but she recognised the re-use of the word "spinning" once again. For an entity that seemed to harbour such disdain for most of those who were currently in the temple, the Administrator really seemed to be going out of its way to offer clues. 

Her gaseous form emerged from the pipes and returned to the empty armour waiting on the floor below. Limbs twitched and eyelids flickered as she settled back into the shell, before it lurched upright, once again peering around the room. 

She slowly made her way around the chamber, brushing her tails over the pipes and writing and rock, searching for anything that could be rotated or twisted. 

@Unreliable Narrator

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Embers - a new Bionicle Epic - Coming 2024 

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

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

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IC: Iradra - Metru-Koro

Iradra frowned, looking where the two League members were looking, before she noticed the Mesi raiders among the ruins of the village. Drawing her blade, Iradra advanced forward with calm steps. One, two, one, two, surveying the strange skakdi before her. "I will give you all a single warning, and I will hope you understand for your own sakes. Cease this vile defilement of our village and leave in peace. Now."

Her voice was calm and even, but still had a grave inflection to it. Iradra knew that to announce one's presence and intentions was perhaps foolish in this situation, but her senses were focused on the world around her. If any of these skakdi, or even an assailant she wasn't at present aware of, tried to attack her, she'd be prepared to respond at a moment's notice. This was far from being her first combat. Of all the situations she'd found herself in this past week, this was one she was most familiar with if anything.

@Unreliable Narrator@Nato the Traveler@Toru Nui

 

IC: Okuo - Metru-Koro

The intrepid toa of fire grunted and groaned as he came to a skidding rolling stop on the dry dirt ground. It seemed that being smashed into by a Muaka's jaws moments before teleportation was not a fun time, but despite that setback, as he looked up from his pained huddle on the ground, the view of the village confirmed that he had indeed made it where he'd intended to go. What he hadn't expected was the state the village was in, its buildings bombed apart, smoke filling the sky, smouldering fires throughout... and it seemed that wasn't all of it. Walking closer to the village, he could see strange skakdi skulking about, clearly in the midst of raiding the vulnerable settlement, with two of them engaged currently with a toa of an element he couldn't quite place. Though groaning at having to fight in the state his body was in, Okuo took his shield off his back, shifting it into launcher form as he turned invisible among the rubble before advancing forward, a cloaked blue fire projectile charging up in the launcher's mouth. He'd have to make this count, his reserves were running dry.

@Keeper of Kraata@TL01 NUVA@Conway@Smudge8

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IC: Taja | Grand Temple Ruins 

Acknowledging Apex's request, Taja stayed silent as the elder being pored over the ancient text. She herself couldn't read it, so hopefully the Aspect would feel charitable if she played nice.

While she waited, the Toa scanned the room. It was similar to the other room, with pipes and stars and a bare wall, but everything was rearranged. She thought the coloured pipes were supposed to connect to their counterparts in the other chambers, but it seemed like the rooms themselves were built in opposition to that idea. She guessed that was why here projectile hadn't done anything: it looked like, instead of connecting, the pipes just ended at the walls of each room. It was like the entire temple was built to present the illusion of function.

Frowning, Taja exited the room and made her way back down the tunnel to the central chamber. A quick visit to the right-most room confirmed her suspicions: all three rooms were frustratingly similar, but just different enough to be isolated from one another. Looking around at the third room, Taja sighed in annoyance at just how close she felt to a solution. It felt like the answer was right there, teasing her. If the rooms were just constructed slightly differently...

Maybe that was the puzzle. Looking up (which was purely performative, as the omnipresent voice had already demonstrated it could come from anywhere), Taja asked a question.

"Administrator. Can these rooms be rotated?"

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On 10/7/2020 at 12:59 AM, Crimson Jester said:

IC: Korruhn, Piraka Fortress

Turning his head further, Korruhn spotted Leklo, unarmed and being pursued by three of the creatures. Instinctively, Korruhn spun, throwing one of his khopesh high in the air, assisted by the Toa's control over gravity, towards his friend. Hopefully it would help.

IC Leklo | Fortress Ruins

There was no time to think, no time to feel, no time to risk a look behind his back; there was only time to die and time to—

—Run.

—Run.

Run!

Wind blurred past his ears again. Every step ached and stabbed. He knew he had a bit of of a limp. It got worse with every other pace. He paid no heed to it. He could not. There was too much on the line.

He was on the line.

The hounds of darkness could be sensed behind him. They were not heard or felt, their presences defied the conventional laws of sensations, they were just sensed. Leklo knew they were there, closing in, one shuddering footfall after another. How far had he gotten? Not far. He daren't dwell on it. He ran for his life, ran from death, ran from the yawning maws of death. 

—Run.

—Run.

—Run.

He'd think about how far his mangled legs had carried him when he or the specters were dying. There was no other choice. He was panting hard then. The time was near. His or theirs? He wasn't sure. His heart pounded hard in his chest from the exertion and exhaustion. Or was it the thudding weight of his steps? He wasn't sure. Nothing was sure. He hoped his idea would work.

Fear burned in his heart like bile in his throat. He felt like he was falling. Nothing seemed to be in control, everything was crumbling apart, every handgrip and handhold proved treacherous, and nothing was for certain anymore. Likewise he felt the pangs of power grow in his hands, egged forth by the sense of dread. He welcomed the feelings both, eager to sense his powers course to his fingertips and embraced the churning fear for what it heralded. Without a single other form of recourse, with no other options afforded to him, no lifeline available, he would be forced to draw his still latent and torturously inaccessible elemental powers out through sheer desperation like a pimple popped with sufficient and painful pressure. He did not relish the prospect, but he had conceived no other way. Draw the demons away, pull them so they were in a row, and blast them with whatever ability came to the fore of his fingertips. That was his genius plan. 

And then his dearly loved friend Korruhn's threw him a weapon. It clattered to the ground in darkness a few paces in front of him, visible only from the glint of metal as it reflected starlight in its course. 

####! Let the fear flow. Run. Run. Run!

—He snatched the kopesh up regardless, against every screaming calculated protestation his mind shouted. His fear was a drug, but it was also a siren and its alarm was undeniable, and it would not deny the salvation a blade could provide. Korruhn, his strongest friend and a real cockblocker. 

 

6 hours ago, Unreliable Narrator said:

IC: Reliable Narrator | Metru-Nui

As Stannis picked his way through the ruins of Metru-Nui towards his destination, the aged deceiver couldn’t help but notice how much the world changed since he first came to be. He stood in the wreckage of Mata-nui, the world before him forever changed as the truth became revealed beyond the mind of gods and mortals. There, out beyond in the dying rays of sunlight refracting off melting knowledge towers, was the Time Between Time. The time that should have never existed, never begun, and never found again.

With limitless freedoms bestowed by his true form, Stannis chose to walk slowly and with purpose from one Metru to another on his quest. He saw rahi fighting for new territory. He saw death. In remote pockets of the city he also saw life. A group of league warriors, five takeans and a renegade toa who broke from the faith, passed overhead on their patrols across the high walkways between buildings. Stannis remained unseen in the ruins below, his grey cloak blending in with the broken road.

At last the Wanderer arrived in Onu-Metru and the Archives themselves. The ground was churned, as if a great earthquake broke the entire district. The damaged limbs and weapons of buried soldiers broke the surface like a strange garden gone to seed. The scent of decay lingered everywhere. It got into Stannis’s cloak and followed him like a chute jumper into the depths of the Archives.

IC Stannis | Archives

Onu-Metru smelled like death and decay and the stench of curdled blood and decomposed flesh was overwhelming to his nostrils, and Stannis had to pull a voluminous sleeve of his cloak up to his nose to stifle the sense. This was worse than the basement graveyard under the Coliseum; this was not meditated genocide in a trash compactor but a mass grave spread across a vast network and the echoes of anguish spread like poison in a bloodstream. Still, Stannis stayed resolute with the understanding that solace lingered at the end of the path, and he pressed on. He could have banished the senses with a litany to his kanohi but he chose to endure it regardless and keep his mask available for when and if he needed it. It was his only power left—his mind, that was, and all that was attached to it. Focus on the prize, he reminded himself. Focus on the wish and it will become true. 

The darkness of the depths were comforting to him, oddly enough, like an old friend come to visit again. Once, long, long ago, he held sway over these omissions of light, but since his bargain with The Hagah he's surrendered that prowess for a power more grounded than any of his fellow Aspects could grasp. Oh, how he longed that he still possessed some glimmer of his ancient abilities in times like the present, he lamented, though soon realized the foolishness in it. He'd learned all he needed about shadows back then, and now he didn't need power over them to know how to master them just the same. Darkness was an absence, he knew, and likewise he knew how to read the passages betwixt the lines. Stannis' time as a Shadow-wielder were over, but he could slip past them even better than ever now. 

And slipped he did, through the crags and crannies of the Archives, gingerly passing by corpses like fungi exhibits and giving only vague curiosity to them all. Life lingered ahead, he knew, and he would not stop until he finally got what he had come for before. 

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IC: Taja | Grand Temple Ruins

Taja blinked. She hadn't expected the answer to be so forthcoming.

She took a deep breath, the humid jungle air filling her lungs. "Then... could you rotate the rooms to make the black pipes fit together?"

She paused. "Please."

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Korruhn, Piraka Fortress

The sound of the beach was a terrible one -- one of chaos, pain, agony. Wind tore through everything, shrieking as it went. Lightning cracked over the protodermic lake with enough decibels to shatter stone and shake the earth. And the beasts. The beasts howled their terrible symphony, haunting and ethereal, raw and painful. And now, one of these beasts was lashed to the end of Korruhn's arm, biting at the bit, begging for it's pound of flesh.

Korruhn could all at once feel the creature's lust, it's anger. It coursed through his veins as it did the beast's. It's desire to feed was his. And he would satisfy it.

The Shadow Toa and his hound lunged in unison toward the nearest opponent, almost a blur in the brilliant light of Ultan's firewall. The creature's Mahiki activated, and suddenly Korruhn's beast multiplied into 4, although which was the real one was lost on the nearest pair of scourge-beasts, who began to blindly lash out at the illusory beasts, desperately clawing at nothing. The real creature caught a scourge-beast in the stomach with it's bladed hand, splitting flesh like ribbon and evacuating the demon's viscera. Korruhn's gilded khopesh found provenance between the shoulder blades of the second, and both creatures exploded into a cloud of fine, crystalline dust.

Were Korruhn not blood-drunk right now, he would have noticed two more golden handprints appear on his afllicted arm. An eye opened in the center of each, and they began to gaze, along with the first, out into a nothingness no mortal could see.

A flurry of claws and blade danced across the battlefield, drawn to the scent of blood like Takea sharks around a shipwreck in the Silver Sea. Both Korruhn and his beast took hits, Korruhn gaining a fresh tear into his right shoulder, the beast losing an arm. But they trudged on, focused on nothing but elimination of all that stood in their way. The Shadow Toa's summon pounced one of the scourge-beasts, flaying his back and tearing it's head clean from the trunk. As the crystalline dust cleared, a fourth hand appeared.

Korruhn's beast, missing an arm and limping heavily, made a hapless charge against a sixth scourge-beast, yet untouched by battle, fresher than his beast. The opponent went straight for the throat, sinking jagged teeth into artery, ending it's life as savagely as it began. With each bite own more blood and flesh splattered the mouth of the ravenous creature. As Korruhn's tether turned to dust, the sickly sound of a blade meeting a skull rang out across the beach. The scourge-beast dropped to it's side where it feasted, dead. A gilded khopesh jutted from it's broken skull.

A sixth, golden hand appeared. And a sixth eye opened.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @EmperorWhenua @The Captain @~Xemnas~

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image.png.c80b02daebe0faa6146a8dfce1ccb188.png

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

 

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IC: Drukarus (Irrnak's Tooth)

:it is decidedly so.:

And with that, with the words of the entity and Grimes, Drukarus began to understand the situation in front of them. Although Drukarus did not know whether the entity's intentions and concerns for Grimes were out of some moral honor or from a conniving scheme, he recognized that this Matoran had some form of significance to it. As for Grimes himself; Drukarus could not deny that he was impressed, even found the Matoran to be respectable. From Drukarus's assumption, Grimes either fully understood the opportunity that they had, or that this Matoran did not fear whatever reprisal would come from such boldness.

Returning boldness with boldness in kind, Drukarus clasped his maul and holstered it back on its place upon his back. Stepping past Grimes, Drukarus gestured for Grimes to follow and silently signaled for them to stay close to him. Making his way through the camp, Drukarus approached the E. Street Wagon where Barius laid, who Drukarus hoped to be awake.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad

IC: Apex (The Grand Temple Ruins)

"Oh? You really thought it'd be that easy to uncover the lost dark magic of a heretic within my halls. Oh no, your fellow brethren did a much better job than that. They'll leave your head spinning before you figure out what they meant. At least I've been left spinning. It's all very confusing."

With that, Apex's first thought was to lash out, to roar out in anger towards the Administrator, to rend the etching from the wall, to attempt to call to whatever Rahi made their dwelling here and to have them rend this accursed temple to its very core...

But no, this was not the time to unleash the beast that she is. Although Apex was left wanting, she was not left without hope. From the Administrator's words, Apex had done what she needed to do, but something was still missing. Now was not a complete halt in her goals, now was simply a delay. Stepping away from the wall, a growling groan of frustration coming from her maw as her body bristled at the interruption in her progress, Apex took a moment to look once more at her surroundings to discern what would need to be done.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad

IC: Sala (The Air Suva)

Sala solemnly nodded when Vhisola asked about the bombing of Metur-Koro, silently confirming her horror. Sala agreed with Sorilax that they could guide Vhisola out of the Fau Swamp and take her to Metru-Koro, at least until they see it and can part ways. Heeding Sorilax's request, Sala entered Avagah once again and attempted to swap the blade of the ACR for the Air Hatchet.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Kal the Guardian

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IC: Ultan; Ruined shore

Seeing that his companions had either achieved some distance or found a second wind of sorts, Ultan directed his attention to the hulking monstrosity teetering over the edge of the glimmering Protodermis lake, its dark outline simmering beyond the emerald firewall at maintained by his outstretched fingertips.

Let's finish this, Ultan thought, digging his heels into the torn earth beneath his feet.

Beginning slowly, he began to push the space before him with palms wide open. As he did so, a beam of flame would leave the firewall and hurdle toward the towering Titan in the distance. He brought back one arm and repeated with his other, sending forth another pillar of flame.

Developing a rhythm, he began to oscillate between the two, first slowly, then moving into a rapid fire momentum, firing off blazing green missiles in a furious volley. While the firewall diminished with every catapult of flame, the space between Ultan and the pike wielding Titan became a downpour of searing green light. 

He sent off the final shot with the last of his strength, buckling to one knee as he did so.

Struggling to lift his head, Ultan looked up to see the Titan engulfed in emerald light, but to what effect, he could not tell.

He could only hope.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Ash Barrens

Drukarus’s pace left Grime short of breath as he struggled to catch up, the chains between his ankles rattling loudly in the early morning. The early morning beneath Irnakk’s Tooth was already hot from the rivers of lava running past the edge of the petrified forest. Grime wished he brought a canteen of water. His throat hurt from the ever present hint of ashy smoke.

He looked out over the sleeping skakdi from last night’s revel with conflicting emotions as he continued after Drukarus. 

OOC: @Burnmad, @Sparticus147

 

IC: Destroyed Piraka Fortress

The emerald flames from Ultann’s converted firewall hurled towards the unconscious titan by the shore. They hit him directly, wreathing him in fiery light. Axxon didn’t respond, but the amalgam wailed inside and tugged on the silver tethers connecting it to the specters Korruhn vanquished one by one. The amalgam grew desperate, egging the specters onwards only to have them carved from reality and banished back to the Far Shore. 

Then Atamai used the power of six Great Disks at once against the titan while at the same time Korruhn’s arm glowed with a sixth open eye and golden palm. Everything changed in a single moment.

As an incredible rainbow colored beam of pure kanoka energy rocketed from the Great Disks towards Axxon, the titan finally regained consciousness in the wake of the last specter’s death. Axxon saw the great blaze of power as he felt his body melting under Ultann’s judgement. He screamed in defiance and ran towards his destiny with his halberd held high.

The powers of the six Great Disks hit Axxon full on, and he burned brighter than the stars. Axxon was removed from the world, cut off from the physical plane he stood upon as the power of the Great Disks isolated him in possible existences, cut him from the very cloth of time itself, and killed all but one. Axxon did not know such soul-torturing pain existed. He felt himself die forever, and each time he found another consciousness to call his own before it too perished in agony. At last, pain found him in the present.

“Please stop,” Axxon whimpered. He lay in the sand, unable to rise. His body didn’t obey his commands anymore. He found the words escaping him before he could think to die honorably: “Please. Make it stop.”

Then the power building inside Korruhn became too great and demolished the coastline. Dark blades of shadow burst from Korruhn as he exploded into a million tar-like pieces. His body coated the beach, splattered across the fortress, and vanished into the night. The horrifying release of elemental energy stored within the destroyed toa flooded outwards, cancelling the effects of elemental powers of anything nearby and turning the ground to a jet-black sand. Small obsidian shards dotted the landscape in the aftermath of the shockwave. Shadows lengthened and acted as they wished instead of obeying physics and the sun. The violent abomination summoned by Korruhn returned to the Far Shore. 

Korruhn went with it to walk alone in darkness and horror.

OOC: @EmperorWhenua, @Crimson Jester, @~Xemnas~, @The Captain
 

IC: Reliable Narrator |  Air Suva

Vhisola’s hand went unconsciously to the edge of her hau. A mask was a mask, and yet this one was different for her. She remembered how she got it, and how kind Okuo was in helping her after the trauma of the assassination attempt. It was funny looking back on it, but the mask meant so much to her now -- too much to give up. She could still see the glowing orb of acid flying towards her as the lid of the containment sphere closed. It made her panicky. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Vhisola said softly once she became a little calmer.. “I appreciate how kind you both are in helping me get back to Metru-Koro. As long as you can help me get out of the swamps I should be fine traveling the rest of the way on my own.”

With those words echoing in the shrine Vhisola turned to leave. She needed to get back to Metru-Koro. She needed to get back home.

ooc: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147

 

IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air

“An interesting request. The black pipes? I can do that,” The Administrator said slowly. Then the world began to turn. Each room twisted and rolled over until all the walls with black pipes aligned themselves. Taja, Morangad, Apex, and Whisper found their footing slipping out from under them as the spaces they stood inside rolled like rock tumblers into the correct positions.

The three rooms settled so that the black pipes ran the length of the ceiling, all connected together to form a single large room. The far wall contained all the white pipes, also connected together. The starry floor and ceiling of the middle chamber became its left and right walls, and then the starscape vanished to reveal the left and right chambers beyond as a single connected hallway. The side originally where the four explorers entered each room now only had a door on the far right portion -- taboo writings covered the left and middle portions. For a floor, the left and right portions of the combined rooms were solid, but the middle room had a doorway leading down through the floor in a gravity-defying display of engineering. Most perplexing, the very far left looked out into the night sky still, but the right revealed a short set of stairs upwards to a hexagonal chamber with a strange machine built into a stone base. The machine looked like it could hold a kanoka disk, and the floor before it was engraved with the following numbers: 5-8-9. Beyond the machine in the center of the hexagonal room was a single word carved into the far wall: NUVA.

Several deceased skakdi lay about the hexagonal room, their bodies torn and butchered. The weapons they carried were knicked, bent, and bloodied. A few carried rifles and ammunition. Another held a lanyard with great masks of stealth, shielding, and mind control strung along it.

“Congratulations,” said the Administrator. “You thought outside the box.

OOC: @Burnmad, @Sparticus147, @Nato the Traveler, @Eyru, congratulations on solving the Ruins of Air. :)

 

IC: Mesi Raids, Reliable Narrator | Metru-Koro

The skakdi with the plant growth turned towards the sound of Iradra’s voice as she spoke. He didn’t speak, just laughed and pulled the trigger on an ugly looking ranged weapon that fired yellow seeds in her direction. His book-eating companion pulled out a large glass jar with a vibrantly colored slug inside and began to unscrew the lid.

Nale’s kakama made the world look slow as she moved out of the manas scuttling charge. Confused, the rahi pummeled the walls of a ruined home to reveal a matoran curled up under a bookcase trying to hide but shaking in terror. The manas clicked its mouth and lunged with its massive pincers to catch an easy meal. Then Gnabol’s calming physic messages reached the manas and its pincers slowed in their pace and the matoran ran away without further harm. Unsure what to do next, the manas began to roll about looking for somewhere to sleep.

Okuo’s silent and invisible hunt paid off -- he spotted two skakdi in the process of fighting a toa in fabric robes and another taller toa powerwalking towards the fray. Ulkarr joined Skorm battling the two mesi working the earth beneath the toa of twilight. At the aspect’s arrival the mesi with the barbed lasso raised her free hand and summoned a mound of earth before hurtling it towards Ulkarr with an elemental command.

OOC: @Toru Nui, @Keeper of Kraata, @TL01 NUVA, @Tarn, @Onaku, @Nato the Traveler, @BULiK, etc. Basically, this is for everyone in Metru-Koro.
 

IC: Reliable Narrator | Le-Metru Nuva

Sidra’s words echoed into the village and suddenly the quiet and determined actions of a village on edge gave way to chaos and fear. The survivors of one great world-shattering catastrophe couldn’t stand the idea of another, and began to frantically work together to pack what they could. The idea of staying to fight whatever approached didn’t sit well with some. Others began arming themselves to defend the village with whatever they had on hand.

“Sidra!” Wing called out from behind an encircling group of concerned villagers near the kahu pen as she spotted Sidra bursting out of her hut. “Sidra over here. What did you see? Do we need to go? Did you find a rallying point?”

Viltia, meanwhile, found Torch again during her investigation of the huts. She entered to find the toa of fire with his head in his hands sitting on the edge of his bed. He rose quickly, obviously caught off guard.

“Viltia? I didn’t hear you knock. Did you discover anything new,” Torch asked. He seemed a little more haggard than when she’d seen him less than an hour ago. “Please tell me you have good news. The other village leaders just chewed me out for not having a plan for this.”

OOC: @Nato the Traveler, @Kal the Guardian

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
fixed Okuo for Onaku
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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Zaliyah - Metru-Koro

Seeing that Iradra's attempt at diplomacy had failed - and knowing that her own efforts would be hampered if she didn't help the villagers - Zaliyah rose to her feet and loosed a beam from her herding blade at the skakdi that had just fired at Iradra. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

IC: Whisper - Air Temple Ruins

"We just had to ask?" She sputtered, staring at the rearranged rooms. 

Her gaze was drawn to the enigmatic middle room, with the doorway leading into the floor. She began to slither over to it, leaning over the edge to see what lay below. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

IC: Sidra - Le-Metru Nuva

"There's some kind of... I dunno, shooty vehicle thing maybe ten minutes out. Looks like the kind of stuff the skakdi raiders use out in the desert," she said, hastily joining Wing, "It was headed in this general direction, and shooting at something behind it. Knowing our luck, it's probably leading the undead right to us." 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

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Embers - a new Bionicle Epic - Coming 2024 

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: Apex (The Grand Temple Ruins)

As Apex waited for an answer to come to her, the world itself shifted and swayed in an unprecedented manner. As Apex was thrown and knocked around, her claws attempting to claim purchase into the stone in whatever crevices they could tear into the ancient rock, the idea of destroying this temple returned to the for front of Apex's mind as she prepared to make her intentions known to the more than nuisance of an Administrator.

As the rooms settled into their final positions and Apex regained her sense of balance from the floor she was splayed upon, the beast of an Aspect began to rise from her spot, a low, hoarse, guttural growl rising in her throat...Before being silenced in a squeak as Apex took hold of the sight before her. The ritual text, the disparate portions of ancient rites now as one whole piece, were beheld openly for Apex to read and consume...But it wasn't just the text that now was complete, a sign, a mark...A Taboo, was made manifest before her.

Stepping forth, in a daze, in a trance, a primordial hold was placed upon Apex as she looked towards the Taboo...An odd and strange allure came upon her, a familiar sense that if it wasn't being masked by the draw of it, then Apex would be hesitant to accept. And so, like a Fireflyer to a flame, Apex pressed her snout onto the sigil and prayed.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad

IC: Uraborask (The Fau Swamp, Near Le-Metru Nuva)

Driving through the thick jungle of a swamp, Uraborask tried his best to keep a good pace within his rig as well as to not crash it into any trees or get it stuck into any deep mud. Although Drukarus had seldom driven in his life, mainly preferring to walk where he could and never caring enough to either repair his own rigs or to pay another to fix it up, Uraborask's deductive vision helped. Although it couldn't guide his path as well as it could with amble time and patience, in quick, reflexive decision making, it offered just enough to allow the Bo-Skakdi from hitting the deep mud ruts by pointing out the darker than normal waters, and discern between the individual trees amongst the mess that made its way before him.

"What was that I saw? What are those things that attacked me? Did I even kill it with the Cordak blaster?" Although the threat of what he saw was gone, Uraborask was now left with his own conscious thoughts rather than those fueled by instinct and adrenaline, a dangerous past-time for the beastly Skak. And now, with his thoughts, the fear of survival being consumed by the fear of what he saw, for even if he had never gone to the Fau Swamp's deepest portions, from rumors and hear say, he knew whatever he encountered was not of the swamp, not originally for sure.

"First the Tahtorak came from Irnakk's Tooth, now these silver creatures of death. What will be next, Skakdi who renounces war and enslavement?

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Nato the Traveler @Kal the Guardian

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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green - Metru-Nui Refugees

Location - Le-Metru Nuva, on the Northwestern fringes of (7, 13) in the Fau Swamp

With - NPC Torch

 

Viltia eventually found her way to Torch’s hut. Though he hadn’t thought himself worthy of having his own hut before many others did, everyone else had essentially forced him into it. After all, he did much in leading the villagers though the marsh after the crash and keeping alive all those who had managed to survive in the time before Sorilax found them. Many had been lost, but many more would have been without Torch there to help them.

The Toa of Fire looked more downtrodden and weary than he had when Viltia had seen him earlier. She placed a concerned hand on his shoulder to console him in some small way. “Only that the one Wing I found so far seems to be the real her. Or at least if there is something weird going on, then whatever is happening has Wing’s memories as well.

Viltia shook her head in thought, “I just don’t know, brother. I wish I could see things clearly. I wish I had the millennia worth of experience like you or Sidra have. I wish we all knew the best thing to do.

There was a shout in the distance. It was in stark contrast to the normal level of hushed tones that the village usually kept. Viltia took note of it but was focused on Torch.

All I know is that we could never have prepared for this. There’s a reason we haven’t left yet, even with the one trained Kahu and another on the way. Trying to evacuate is potentially more of a suicidal move than staying here to defend ourselves.” Viltia thought of Evolis Kerhs completely and effortlessly decimating the Skakdi that had killed Serene. Who knew what other horrors awaited them in the marsh. She hadn’t been around when two thirds of Torch’s group had died in the marshes after being flung from the giant robot head, but she knew many of the original founders of Le-Metru Nuva never wanted to traverse the marshes again.

Viltia realized that maybe bringing that up was insensitive to Torch, who had been the sole leader at the time and had done all he could to get everyone into what he had hoped was a safer swamp. It had been a great accomplishment based on the stories she had heard, but she wasn’t sure how heavily the losses weighed on the Fire Toa’s mind. He hadn’t asked to be a leader, but had taken the role out of necessity. Viltia was glad Sorilax’s ideas had helped set up a several leader system so more beings could help each other bear the weight of leadership.

I’m sure the village leaders remember the marshes and why leaving is so problematic, they’re probably just scared. Don’t let their fear cause discord and affect the safety of everyone. Mata-Nui knows my fear would probably have rendered me immobile if I was still a Matoran. You’ve got this. Sidra and I are here for you. For everyone.

 

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

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-----------------------------

--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

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IC Stannis | The Archives

The darkness carried Stannis to his destination. 

Nothing interceded in his path, but not from a projection of his own might or his ability to destroy another being. The Shadows sheltered him, though again not by some perverse power he was able to wield. The ancient man's knowledge of absence and night sheltered him and shone even when there was nothing to see in the tenebrous depths of Metru Nui. He scratched about, his feeble mortal body moving with a strange and shambling grace, but he was never hindered despite his blindness. The darkness was familiar to him, the absences and mysteries within its voids trivialized to simple child's games and riddles, and where danger lurked Stannis simply avoided. His focus was rapt and sharp on his quest—he would not be stymied again, and at the threat of faltering he simply stumbled on, but it was not easy for him and neither was his success assured. Twice he held his breath to avoid confrontation, the first with a great beast who prowled the archives, and the second with a patrol of beings he could not mettle with. In both cases he clutched his weapon close, pulled his cloak over his body tightly, and stayed in the corners of the caverns, earnestly clinging to the shadows. Once the threats had passed, he moved more slowly than before, careful not to test his luck more than seemed wise.

It was cold in the Archives, also, and with power outages spread around the levels entire areas were devoid of ventilation, light, or heat. The sections below Ko-Metru were the worst, and he had to bundle even more firmly than before as he ventured around dripping ice stalactites and frigid pools of melt. He shivered despite himself as he passed through these areas, focused solely on his quest as best he could, even when seeing the path ahead was obscured by the dense fog of his breath in the jaw-chattering cold. Still, he pressed on, each time blessed with some salvational warmth ahead, sometimes a functional heating system or better, but never took more than a second's rest before he plunged ahead. He would reach his goal... or he could die in these forgotten caves and all his life would be for naught, a possibility Stannis refused to recognize. 

Until at last he found it, the familiar flight of tunnels in a secret section of a sub-level that brought back memories from centuries before. These were familiar grounds now, and Stannis quickened his pace again. Lights and sounds were restored thence as the generators were still functional, and soon enough Stannis rounded a corner and came upon his destination. His Vault, door still firmly sealed, and the outside scattered with the milieu of a scuffle. A totally bisected body lay to the side, a leg and arm were strewn elsewhere, and a puddle of crusty dried vomit was near the vault's door, all of which the aged Aspect gingerly stepped aside. He touched the control panel.

"Hello! :hi-sign: And welcome! Toa Stannis of the Maru! :howdy: I am so glad to see you have returned. It has been 702,137 days, 18 hours, 53 minutes and 39 seconds since your last visit."

"Hello, Hiripaki," Stannis breathed haggardly. He leaned his spear against the door and rubbed his eyes then blinked rapidly, banishing the thought of it being not quite what he needed. The artificial intelligence's voice evoked memories of a different machine entirely; it had scant been ten days, but already the memory of Vahki Unit BO-1337-P was distant. The unit had apparently not survived the cataclysm, but something about that machine's determination to follow and assist Stannis at the time had touched the luddite Aspect, as had Kilo in a far more perceptible fashion through their conversations abroad the Taku. Stannis looked upon the visual sensors at the door and open his arms out wide as though greeting a long-lost friend and expecting an embrace. "I'm home."

"Yay! Please enter the passcode."

"... The what?"

"Please enter the passcode?"

"It's me. You've already determined that, Hiripaki, so be done with this nonsense and open the god#### door."

"Sorry, Stannis sir, but my programming will not allow me to do so without the passcode. And you're just not talented enough to program me otherwise." The AI paused. "That was what they call 'a dig,' sir."

"I can tell you've been learning bad habits from Oreius..." Stannis scowled, then his frown tilted to an appreciative smile. "But I am a welcome one, and you will open the door regardless."

"As you wish!" Instantly the noise of clanking gears and whirring machinery spun from behind the wall and the great doorways to the vault opened wide, first the outer, and then the inner, until finally—at last—Stannis had made it truly to his sanctum. "You are injured," the AI said in alarm.

"Yes. Drained, more like," he said as he set his spear down on a table. "I need to get to my study, now.

A secret entrance opened up at a far end of the vault's main area as a set of shelves and furnishing melted away and revealed an oddly fluorescent-lit side chamber. It's recess glowed with a sickly green and black luminescence, and Stannis walked towards it with feverish intent. Within that chamber was something otherworldly that none in the Universe but him and his once-god could have understood. Stannis stepped through the jamb and into the secret room unabashedly and sighed in relief.

The great Aspect had expended so much of himself over the past few centuries. Battle after battle, fight after fight, injury after debilitating injury, and all while maintaining the charade of a magnanimous and righteous toa-hero who lacked no virtue had all worn down on him like an eon of winds sweeping upon a granite monument. The final fight with Pridak had done the greatest number on him, but he already was at a lack of carefully rationed Kuta-power when it started, and the sauces which powered who Stannis was had been well diluted to juice already. The eventuality of being stretched thin were why Stannis had commissioned his sanctum early on in his grand game, and it existed as an extension of himself in many ways. The Vault was a part of Stannis in his truest self, altogether amoral, secretive, full of unbound knowledge, and evil to those who didn't understand its functions, though to its owner it was all as simple and comforting as the mask on his face. He entered the space and at once was pulled into a different world from the one he was in before. 

It was a small area, comparatively speaking, entirely cut off from the rest of the twilight pocket dimension like a meditation capsule in a forest. There was very little light but just enough warmth in the crepuscular universe the little chamber was housed in. All around Stannis were shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes he'd absconded with, each binding laden with a dialectic symbol only another Aspect could decipher, and on the other side of the space were rows upon rows of bottles filled with concentrated green gas. He grabbed one of the containers and poured its contents into his mouth, letting the heavy gas pour into his body, and instantly felt the effects of the antidermis—his antidermis. It mixed with the being within himself and gelled into a single entity once again, restoring his mind as well as his power again, and it filled his self with such vigor like a potent drug entering his system. Ancient memories and obscure facts flooded back into him, all stored within the portioned canisters of his essence, and he basked in the power imbued in himself again. He pulled another bottle and repeated the ritual, and then a third time, each time feeling whole more that before, until he had at last become himself again. 

He was once again Stannis, the Aspect of Makuta, and he was keenly aware of his purpose again. And he would accomplish his Wish. 

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IC, Aurax: Coliseum

Aurax nodded. "Good," he said. He pressed a button on the elevator, and the doors slid closed. The elevator began to move down, taking its occupants deep within the Coliseum, to the city's central Vahki hive.

OOC: @Kal the Guardian Mind setting the scene for us @Unreliable Narrator?

IC, Atamai: Piraka Fort

Atamai fell to his knees, stunned at what had transpired. The metal wires attaching him to the disks dissolved away into nothing, and the Great Kanoka clattered to the ground in front of him. 

The Toa of Iron stared at Axonn's body, and at the destruction caused by Korruhn's explosion.

He turned to Leklo‘s companion, his face still conveying shock, but he could barely get any words out.

"I... I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

OOC: @EmperorWhenua @The Captain

Edited by ~Xemnas~
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IC: Sala (The Air Suva)

Pulling out the blade that was magnetically attached to the back of Avagah, Sala held the blade out and concentrated on it and upon the Suva. Focusing upon swapping the sword for the hatchet, Sala was pleasantly surprised as dematerializing and then rematerializing in his hand, was a jungle green axe, its shaft of a sturdy material that Sala could not discern from a casual look but could obviously be seen as a fine quality, its blade a keen edge capable of cleaving trees whole.

Lightly swinging the blade in front of himself, Sala could feel, no see, the tangible shift of air currents as the debris within the temple ruins was picked up by the wind. "Huh, though I've heard of Kanoka blades, but this is something else entirely. The craftsmanship, the power, this is truly a one-of-a-kind weapon."

Turning his attention back towards Vhisola, Sala reached out a mechanical hand down onto Vhisola's shoulder stopping her. "Hold on Vhisola, I understand the need to head back, but its been a few days. The battle has most likely ended and I do not think we are able to leave yet. Sorilax?" Sala said, turning towards the Aspect.

OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Taja | Grand Temple Ruins

Taja silently echoed Whisper's indignant cry. That was it? But she had to admire the ingenuity of the temple's builders. They must have known that no Aspect would ever diminish themselves enough to ask for help. Taja had studied the three virtues enough to know the value of unity. The whole is almost always greater than the sum of its parts; it takes humility to admit that you can't do everything by yourself. Still... it stung a little to realize the solution had been under her nose the whole time.

Whisper made her way towards the middle room, but Taja found her eyes drawn to a new doorway that had appeared near her, to the right of the chamber. She climbed up the small series of steps beyond, and found herself in a hexagonal room built of smooth, unblemished stone.

Several deceased Skakdi lay here and there, their bodies rent and butchered. The blood had long since dried, suggesting they had been here for some time. Their weapons looked the worse for wear, but they might still be functional. The Toa had no idea how to work the rifles they carried, and the crude, ugly blades held no appeal for her. But she noticed one corpse wearing a cord with three masks strung along its length, and decided that she could make use of it better than he could. She carefully pulled the lanyard off the body and strapped it to her pack. These would come in useful once she figured out how to activate her mask powers (she realized belatedly that, with all the excitement around her elemental powers, she had forgotten that this was something else Toa could do).

That business taken care of, she turned to the main feature of the room, which was obviously the strange machine at the center. Taja approached it cautiously, analyzing it from a distance, but it didn't appear to be active, let alone designed to harm her. Instead, it looked like its primary function was to hold a Kanoka disk—the arm and empty slot reminded her of her own launcher. The floor before the contraption was engraved with three numbers: 5-8-9. The only other writing in the chamber was a single word carved into the far wall: NUVA.

The Toa frowned. If the numeric code was related to the machine's design, it was obviously a Kanoka identification code. Any academic worth their salt knew the codes by heart—this one identified a disk forged in Le-Metru with the power of teleportation. The final digit suggested it was a Great Disk, which Taja would have dismissed as a legend only weeks ago. But after successfully retrieving Ga-Metru's Great Disk for Turaga Dume, she knew the Disks were no legends. That said, they were long gone now, lost amidst the end of the world and the machinations of an alternate-universe Toa Tuyet, if she recalled correctly. If the Great Disk was required to unlock the secrets of this chamber, then she was out of luck. Unless she could find someone who knew the long-forgotten method of crafting such powerful disks, there was no way in.

Retracing her steps, Taja found herself back in the main chamber. She follower Whisper to the door that led down into the floor and looked inside, wondering the Aspect had found anything.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Nato the Traveler @Burnmad @Sparticus147

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IC: Sorilax - Aspect of Shadow and Silence - Aspects of Makuta

Location - Air Suva

With - Sala, Vhisola

 

Sorilax was momentarily surprised by the soft tone of Vhisola’s refusal. He wondered if perhaps individual Kanohi meant more to Matoran than he thought. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings.

The Ga-Matoran turned to leave and Sorilax’s mind immediately jumped from Vhisola to his scroll on Aspects that Vhisola still had. He needed that back. It had very valuable information in it. It not only contained all he had learned about Aspects, but it also contained all his theories, possible Taboos he was researching on the side, and every variation he had tried with the Desecration Taboo. He very certainly needed it to remain safely by his side.

And then Sorilax realized that perhaps the Matoran holding the scroll was not a little bit more important than his scroll could ever be. He felt ashamed at his mind, at his very nature. At least now he caught himself thinking these things. In the past, they all too often slipped by unnoticed.

Perhaps Vhisola was right in wanting to leave immediately. They had gathered all the data they needed from here to preserve this place’s memory. It was time to move on and change things for the better. First for himself, then for the rest of all living things. They could always retrieve items from the Suva while within its range and they would spend a few days traveling through the swamp anyway.

Sala successfully retrieved what turned out to be a full fledged axe, not merely a hatchet. The green of the tool seemed to embody the purest green that represented the element of Air. And the way the wind from the axe gently swept around the room, rustling the leaves that had found their way in through the hole in the roof only accented the axe’s hidden powers.

Sala turned towards Vhisola before she made it to the doorway, "Hold on Vhisola, I understand the need to head back, but its been a few days. The battle has most likely ended and I do not think we are able to leave yet. Sorilax?" Sala turned towards the Aspect, his face quizzical. Sorilax knew the look by now. Sala had given him it many times as he taught the Matoran of Plasma about himself, his species, and this island of Zakaz.

The tan and brown Aspect checked his backpack for all his supplies, took one last look around the Air Suva, and turned to Sala, “Actually, I do believe we have enough to keep this place in memory should it be destroyed. Besides, a true cataloguing would take years, and I do not believe we have that kind of time. Vhisola is right once more, we should be on our way, let us tarry no longer.

Sorilax briefly explained how exactly they were to proceed to keep everyone safe. How his field of Silence would keep them from talking, but also from others hearing them. Then he strode for the door, not looking back. He would return some day to properly study this place, but for now, he was bound on a northward trek of much importance. Every second wasted could potentially be another life lost.

Traveling took much longer now that Vhisola was with them. Since she could be exposed to toxins and mutagens, they had to avoid all water, which very heavily slowed progress in some areas. Thankfully, the tree root system was immense and very often weaved its way above the water. When that failed, the sprawling complex of tree branches above allowed a more tenuous form of traversal.

Sorilax’s use of Shadow and his Silence kept them free from most threats, with Sorilax pleasantly surprised by Sala’s initiative in dealing with the small threats that did find them. The Su-Matoran was getting very good with Avagah, and was even more efficient with his new air hatchet. Sorilax was quite proud of Sala. He seemed far more brave than he had when the village had been burning around them and several dead Metru-Koro guards lay at their feet. Though Sorilax had and still understood the need to get away from that place.

For the night, Sorilax kept them nestled in between two roots and hidden behind a wall of solid Shadow while the Matoran tried to sleep. Sorilax himself took the time to keep a lookout and meditate once more. He really focused on his power of Shadow and trying to discern how it was attached to his being; how it was somehow tied to the core of his being, despite himself being made of a gas.

When that faltered, he moved instead to his connection to all things Taboo. The sea of darkness that was the force behind Taboos seemed a little bit clearer, the water now moving in currents instead of the chaos the frothy waves held before. With these meditations, he had crafted a boat for himself in the strange sea, to lift him above the darkness while still in a way being submerged in it. Every day he sought to be a better being the boat became a little more sturdy. But the dark sea was deceptively calm. He knew it could rise up at any moment to swallow him whole once more.

So he continued to row. At least now he had a destination. The beacon of light at the center of the sea, at the center of the island. Sorilax hoped Kini-Nui might offer him some form of respite from the inky, cold, and crushing depths of shadowy power that was the force behind Taboos and his own nature as an Aspect of Makuta. Why else would it call to him? Every step closer he felt was one step closer to real change.

While night progressed in the real world, in the recesses of his mind, Sorilax took a chance he hadn’t taken in a long time. He dipped his hand into the currents, feeling them swirl around his hand. The symbol on his palm glowed a dull gray and seemed to wash off of his hand like dye, staining the water with its glow. The glow extended like a singular thread, curling in the vast depths. The glow from it only lit the one current, never crossing over to another. It was at that moment that Sorilax’s perception changed. What he had thought was one singular chaotic sea of the force behind Taboos was actually a complex interconnected system of many different manifestations.

He thought of Desecrations and all that he understood of them. Another strand of gray glowed in the black hole of oppressive darkness that was this mindscape. It was a varying shade of gray from the other and never once touched the thread that represented the Rahkshi Taboo. He was starting to get it now, the currents were the tenets of Taboos, with the glowing strands being the individual Taboos themselves.

Sorilax paused at this knowledge. If he could figure out the core knowledge behind a tenet of Taboos, then individual Taboos within that tenet could be much more easily researched without having to find them in ruins. That, well, it disappointed him, as it meant any Aspect with sufficient knowledge and a critical mind could obtain any Taboo. It made his task to find Taboos to keep them from other Aspects a foolish chore of no consequence.

Another thought came to his mind. His own knowledge he had made on his own. His tweaks to the Desecration poem, his figuring out of how to use Rahi Heartlights for Desecrations. Two more threads unwove from his hand, curling around the strand that stood for the Taboo of Desecration. When they had fully intertwined, they seemed to glow brighter, and he realized he knew much more about Desecration than he thought. Further possibilities seemed to open in his mind, certain ones seeming to be more in line with the Desecration current than others.

Several thoughts came and went. Desecrating Rahi, Desecrating someone with their own Heartlight, Desecrating a Kaita, Desecrating an Aspect, and many more variations. All seemed possible now where they had seemed foolish before. But he had had enough of Desecration. There was no need for him to explore it further, especially tonight. Who knew what countless hours it might take for him to create a new Taboo from scratch. His alternate poem for Desecrations had taken him at least a thousand years to figure out, he wasn’t ready to take a thousand more just to be able to Desecrate a Rahi.

He pulled his hand from the freezing pool of black. No, if he was going to research a new Taboo, it was going to be in the many currents that remained dark, with no glowing strands in them. He sought to create Kraata most of all, though perhaps his research would take him elsewhere. Either way, he was excited for the future. A new, unexplored field of study lay before him, and he was ready to dig in. He grabbed the oars of the boat in his mind, and continued on towards the warm glow of the northern beacon. He could explore more tomorrow night.

When it was light enough to move on, Sorilax roused his companions and the two Matoran had a small meal. Then they were off on another day’s walk through the Fau Swamp and the dangers it held.
 

OOC: @Sparticus147 @Unreliable Narrator

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-----------------------------

--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

-----------------------------

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IC Leklo | Near Ruins

The directive echoed in his mind to the thumping of his heartlight, to the pounding of his feet, to the gasps of his breath. 

Run.

Run.

Run.

Don't look back. Okay, look back a little bit—okay, nope, just run. And run he did. His legs buckled again now. Good. Feel the fear. Let the emotion overwhelm you, he told himself. Maybe that will do it. And if it doesn't? Oh well. So much for being a toa-hero. 

Failure, like falling, was an inevitability by the rules of chance. No climber could keep a flawless record of accident-less ascents, and no warrior could hope to never be humiliated and overrun; to believe so would defy Fate, which often played at the hopes and dreams of the paltry denizens of the world, all clamoring for a chance at completing their duties and destinies. Luck always did run out in the end, for every single one of them. It was an assured thing, natural enough like how you'll always find what you're looking for in the last place you look, and like how you will definitely insert the USB connection the wrong way twice before somehow getting it right the third time even though you put it in like that on the first try. Luck always did... run out.

What were the chances his would keep going, though? Slim to none. 

On the count of three, he told himself, he would turn around and summon his expectant elemental powers. They would work and incinerate his foes, or they would not and he would be devoured. Those were the odds. Fifty-fifty, he surmised optimistically. Do or not. Yes or no. Life or death. 

Three.

Two.

One!

 

He turned around, a fistful of knife at the ready. He thought he could feel his powers flood to his hands!!!! And then—

A flash as bright as the suns themselves.

A cry of pain or of torment.

A wash of darkness that nulled everything. 

His powers fizzled, but his enemies were no more, banished by some power that was not his own. What were the chances of that?

Leklo stood there, still stanced at the ready to fight for his existence and for his destiny, but there was nobody to fight. In fact, there wasn't much of anything. Obsidian shards were strewn all around the ground like ancient arrows who's shafts had long since crumbled to dust, leaving only the haunting tips to hint at the battle they'd been volleyed for. Ink coated the grasses like tar, coated Leklo, coated the shattered landscape like splattered blood. The errant toa-hero  realized he'd been holding his breath and released it in an exasperated and relieved gasp, then harrowingly inhaled again so forcefully he threatened to burst his lungs. It took him a few seconds to calm his gentle soul again, but he finally realized there was nothing more for him to do but return back to his friends. The coastline, what was left of it, was quiet and absent the sounds of fighting, only the lapping of waves against the shore remained.

He trudged back as quickly as he could to where he was before, limping as he jogged until he skipped more than ran at all, and he didn't stop or pause until he came upon Ultan, Atamai, and the static Axonn again in the near-demolished ruin.

And Leklo had no words. 

@The Captain @~Xemnas~ @Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Korruhn, ???

Silence.

But, not the silence you would find in death, no. That silence is imperceptible, the dead cannot comprehend the whisper of the wind or the vacuity of silence. The neurons cease activity, the pulses of electricity that move a being from a mass of organic material into a functioning, conscious being are gone. Flesh rots, fluid evaporates. The mind ceases to wander, ceases to be.

Reassured that for whatever reason, he wasn't dead, the very-much-alive Shadow Toa opened his eyes.

A darkened mirror world of smoky illusions greeted Korruhn. He returned to the numbing void where his thoughts, not his motions, piloted his course. Steps left glittering trails in the dark sand of the beach. Fog rolled across the water. Shambling, translucent echoes of being wandered further off. No one greeted him this time

The sights and sounds could not be comprehended by the mind of any living thing -- even ones who have seen the Far Shore. The landscape was constantly shifting: plates collided, creating eroding mountains before his eyes. Buildings, seemingly both brand new and immeasurably ancient, simultaneously built themselves and crumbled, plaster and decay dancing endlessly between construction and ruin, their true shape and nature indiscernible in their constant shifting forms.

A beckoning warmth in this cold place called to him. Minutes or days away he could not tell, but it called like the warmth of a crackling campfire during a winter night. Korruhn could see a trail alighting across the ground. It moved and swam as a dim aurora of many colors in the direction of the warmth. His path made, all that was left was journey through a timeless place with nothing but the tide of the water beneath his feet for comfort.

The march through purgatory seemed to take forever, and yet eventually, Korruhn came to find this world to be tangible enough to at least have a fixed point for the end of his journey. He exhaled, a small sigh of relief in this strange world. Before him, a purple-tinged smoke seemed to pour from a pile of ash on the ground, as though it were a recently extinguished flame. Korruhn felt a sudden compulsion to reach out into the smoke.

---

The Shadow Toa awoke once more, although this time, it seemed, somewhere far more tangible and comprehensible.

It was dark, and damp. The little light available cascaded through circular doorways, some misshapen and possibly damaged? Metal creaked, the entire area seemed to groan under it's own weight. It was cold, and familiar, although Korruhn could not place it.

Korruhn stood up and turned, to see another circular door. Unlike the others, this one casted a strange, sickly green fluorescence to it. Feeling compelled, Korruhn approached the doorway.

OOC: @EmperorWhenua

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image.png.c80b02daebe0faa6146a8dfce1ccb188.png

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

 

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