Undying

[The Lorax]

IC (Koriaha, Sorrowcliff):

Oh, of course, Koriaha thought. That explained why the toa was so mopey. He hadn't only made a silly mistake, but he had missed an opportunity to rebound afterwards, to prove his worthiness on the field of battle. That was something Koriaha felt he could relate to. He was, after all, one of the greatest beings that this universe had ever known, yetome people refused to acknowledge that. So, he had to show them. Actually, he enjoyed demonstrating his grandeur.

He doubted that this toa had as much to show off, but he felt like everyone deserved to at least get a shot at proving themselves. Maybe he could help this toa get that chance in life (death? undeath? post-life?)

"Well then, toa" Koriaha said with an odd sort of smile, "We'll find some way to make it up - show the world you're better than that. You made a mistake, suffered an embarrassing death and missed one shot at glory, but there acn be another. Come with me and we'll find something else worthwhile for you to do".

[Samus Aran-Bounty Hunter]

IC: Takari (Altar)

"Exactly. As long as we have a plan to fall back on if something goes awry, we'll be able to explore for this weapon without too much worry over the spirits and traps that lie in the darkness where we're to be searching."

Zakaro

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Radamir, Altar of the Dead)

Radamir's face contorted into an expression that would probably be best read as one of contention and of thoughtfulness both. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke.

 

"Indeed, what you all speak is true. My brothers and sisters, I ask you - who do you think would be best suited to be appointed to a task such as this?"

[Visaru]

IC

Gandor looked suspiciously at his companion for a second, wondering why he was being so kind. Gandor had never really trusted non-Toa, and the being's appearance immediately conjured feelings of worry. Why was this strange being acting so empathetic and compassionate? Did he want to hurt Gandor, get him alone and then ambush him?

 

But then Gandor's eyes met the blazing blue ones of the huntsman, and Gandor remembered that he was his brother. They were all united in death. They had never hurt each other. Never would. This rider, strange in appearance as he might be, had helped Gandor and the other Toa siege Destral, and had shared their struggle with these new Heathens polluting their path to a peaceful rest. They had a shared life. This man would help him. They were brothers.

 

Gandor smiled and turned around his steed to face Koriaha.

 

"Let us ride."

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua): "As I said, I think the four of us could handle it" Kehua commented. "We should be able to report back to you by noon tomorrow at the latest".

 

IC(Koriaha): "Let us ride" Koriaha echoed, His voice rising until the shout carried far out over the ocean below them. He whirled his kikanalo around and then charged away from sorrowcliff, not with any destination in mind, just riding for the thrill of it while he tried to work out what he and the toa could to to restore Gandor's fallen honour.

[Samus Aran-Bounty Hunter]

IC: Takari (Altar)

"I agree, Kehua. Although perhaps it would be helpful to bring along a source of light for sight, preferably not one that flames."

No. She's not going to dwell on her confusion with fire. No, no, nope, not happening..

Zakaro

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua): "I could provide that" Kehua answered her, tapping his kanohi faxon. "Some rahi that live underground can emit light to attract their prey. I could copy that ability to light our paths."

[Void Emissary]

IC: Altar of the Dead - Havoc

 

Like a spectre, I remained to attention with my fellow Huntsmen, listening with intent to their plans of searching the lower chambers of this fortress. I didn't speak, nor move, nor do anything to make myself stand out. I didn't need to; I could feel the curious stares of my peers trail up along my right arm, eyeing the quartet of knife hilts embedded up its length. They were small souvenirs from the earlier battle, and would hopefully fill my weapons quota, since my belt was currently missing its axe.

 

"I agree with Kehua," I announced, finally making my presence known, "Among us, we have a general range of skills. We will not know what to expect down in those dungeons, and a wide variety of attributes will serve our purpose well."

 

-Void

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Altar of the Dead)

The King of the Hunt stood silent, for a few moments, locked in contemplation, and then he nodded - a slow, quiet move of his head, approving this plan.

 

"If you all are in agreement, then so let it be. You have my blessing. Go down into those dungeons, and see what you can find."

 

(Battlefield)

 

Meanwhile on the other side of the island, Amarthis was just about done sitting around. "Hey! Everyone," she yelled to the refugees gathered on that battlefield, "Move your backs. The camp needs supplies. Any of you willing to help me retrieve some from the dungeons?"

[Void Emissary]

IC: Altar of the Dead - Havoc

 

"As you order, my King," I replied in quiet reverence, bowing my own head slightly as I headed to find my steed. One hand plucked the knives from my arm with stony dispassion as I walked, slipping each one of them into my belt. A small spark of relief flickered to life in my core -- those blades had been jamming the bones of that extremity for far too long.

 

-Void

[Samus Aran-Bounty Hunter]

IC: Takari (Altar)

"Yes, sire."

She curtsies slightly as she speaks, before moving on to prepare. First the former Ta-Toa looks over her Kikanalo, picking out an arrow or two sent at the beast from the sideline Refugees. She evens finds a throwing dagger in its leg, and scowling again at the loss of her prized one, instead places the one from her Kikanalo's leg into the sheath. Better to have something than nothing.

Zakaro

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua, Sorrowcliff): "Right then, that's that" Kehua remarked, suddenly businesslike rather than defferential to Ramidir's authority, as the king of the hunt had now left. "Let's take a quarter hour to gather equipment, prepare as we may and them meet at Gorast's Gate" he said, naming the nearest entrance to the lower levels of the fortress.

 

Leaving the others in the group to make their own arrangements for the trip, Kehua made his way back to Horo, checking that the phase dragon was in good health after that morning's battle. He was, thankfully, meaning that he would be able to descend along with the huntsmen. Kehua doubted that any of the kikanalo would be able to accompany their riders - they were too large and graceless for the tight, winding passageways, but a creature that could move through obstacles at will would have no problems. He gathered a few extra lightstones from among the other huntsmen, cleaned off his weapons and made sure they were sharp before finally turing his feet towards the meeting place.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

GM IC: (Door to Mutran's Lab)

And, as Zartor had wisely expected, the ray did not the slightest shred of damage to the sharkhead. Unlike Zartor had expected, it did not merely bounce off. No. Something much more interesting and anticlimactic at the same time happened.

 

The beam scattered. Fragmented into innumerable narrower beams, all of them bouncing off and spreading through the room. These beams, however, were apparently not intense enough to do any damage to them save color the hallway in a red laserlight. When Wani stopped firing the laser beams, the fragments, too, dissipated into the air.

 

Well, that was interesting, was an observation many were wont to make.

[Elrond of Rivendell]

IC(Blax, battlefield):

 

A deep, booming voice echoed in the tunnels, in answer to Amarthis' question. "Yes sir, ready and willing. However, sir, permission to speak a question?"

 

The large being that the voice belonged to emerged from the relative shade of the tunnel wall. Blax had just finished cleaning his swords, and had sheathed them upon his back. He began to walk slowly, with a large, lumbering gait that belied his true speed.. He came to a stop in front of the Vortixx, and snapped to military attention, though not military pose. Life as a refugee had taken that out of him.

 

-Elrond

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Amarthis, Battlefield)

The obedience in this guy's voice made Amarthis feel a little bit prouder inside. She stood a bit straighter. It would've taken her just so much to salute Blax - hey, this guy even snapped to military attention for her! This was new.

 

"Listening, soldier!"

[Elrond of Rivendell]

IC(Blax, Battlefield):

 

With Amarthis' permission given, Blax began.

 

"Sir, would it not be best if we bring a few more refugees from the camp? We defended with only our usual security shift, and splitting our few numbers may leave us vulnerable to a second attack. Should we not call for more recruits from the camp before going down?"

 

Blax waited tersely for Amarthis' answer. Although the battle was only ten minutes or so ago, Blax's adrenaline rush had subsided, leaving him with pain from multiple cuts on his unarmored shoulders. He began to feel almost sleepy from the blood loss... or maybe it was the 2-3 days he hadn't slept that week. Whatever the case, he had to snap out of it. He straightened.

 

"Awaiting your orders, sir."

 

-Elrond

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Amarthis, Battlefield)

Amarthis considered this suggestion for a few moments. Of course, a few reinforcements from the village would help... but there was the dubious question of whether a shift change was needed at all. Thorego, crazy though he was, was a capable warleader, and...

 

"Thorego!" she called out to him, "Do you think you can handle the defense if I take just two or three men with me down into the dungeons?"

 

... it would be wise to ask him.

[The Lorax]

IC (Wani): Once Wani had discovered that the reflected beams wouldn't hurt him, he fired off a bunch of other beams. Tha shark teeth were protected, but that didn't mean that everything else was too. He tried disintegrating the door, the handle and lock, the hinges, the walls around the door and anything else he could get at, just in case they were susceptible.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

GM IC: (Door to Mutran's Lab)

The rest of the door, however, was not half as amusing. Being solid, legitimate, even somewhat shiny metal, the beams reflected off the door, narrowly missing Wani's own head.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Thorego (Borderline)

 

"Verily!" he replied.

 

IC: Amadene (The Altar)

 

The Huntswoman once of iron was the last to leave the meeting place, giving a bow to Radamir as she did so and saying, "As thou command, my liege." before turning and walking off. Making sure to grab a few lightstones that were used to illuminate the grounds during the night, she began making her way to the gate.

 

IC: Zartor (Mutran's Laboratory Door)

 

As the laser beams shot back, Zartor winced back and cried out, "Halt! No more lasers!"

 

Once peace was required, he looked at the sharks head and said, "I have another idea." before leaning down before it to eye level. He tried to summon up his knowledge of Makuta. He wasn't quite sure if they could use mind control, but that sounded Makuta like to him. He attempted to activate his hypnosis powers, figuring that it may have some form of spirit like enchantment rather than a mechanism, and commanded the jaws to, "Snap shut!"

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zaak heard Amarthis speaking about taking a few people into the dungeons. He walked over, saying, "I will volunteer to go to the dungeons."

 

OOC: Man, autocorrect hates Bionicle names.

[Visaru]

IC

 

Gandor and Koriaha charged across the plain of Southern Destral, riding with a purpose. The earth rumbled underfoot, and Gandor felt a steely sense of Duty build up in his chest. He didn’t know where they were going, nor why, but the very act of riding like thunder uplifted him. Riding, flying over the ground, shaking the earth with the booming of his Kikanalo’s hooves… this was the best part of Undeath. This was what he loved.

He was not driving his Kikanalo in a certain direction, just subconsciously following Koriaha, who he suspected was merely following him. Purposeful or not, the two noticed that they were slowly approaching the Destral fortress.

Gandor slowed his Kikanalo to a slow trot as they approached. The fortress rose like an island barrier, an impenetrable wall of steel. However, the grey metal was marred by a gaping hole where a large chunk of earth had torn through. Gandor smiled. He remembered doing that. Quickly the smile faded as he remembered how he no longer had his special connection to earth.

But the huntsman did not have time for regrets now. He shook his head, removing the thoughts from his mind, and plunged into the darkness.

[Void Emissary]

IC: Refugee Camp

Tap tap tap tap tap

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful maiden making her through a dark forest. It was a place no being had ever made it through, but this girl was brave and proud and refused to allow such an ordinary things as a wooded area scare her off."

Amongst the wretches and broken kings of the refugee camp, there lay one singular character, flat on his back, waxy eyes trapped in an eternal, loving gaze towards the stars above. One hand drummed its fingers endlessly on the cracking flagstones beneath, in a strange, monotonous, ceaseless tune.

"And so, the maiden had begun her journey at dawn, when the first rays of sunlight peeked out from beyond the horizon; the same pinkish hue as the petals of the flowers which grew in forest's clearings."

The being, a Toa, didn't move beyond tapping out his maddeningly constant tune. There was no waver in the song; no hesitation, despite it being played like a mere afterthought to greater ideas.

"The trek stretched through midday and into the inky-black night. Soon, the maiden, wandering in the shadows and spectres which emerged from midnight's magic, became hopelessly lost in the woods. Her fate, it would seem, was same as all the others that had tried to cross through this place."

The Toa's gaze never left the sky, even as his orange eyes flickered in oceans of wrecked sanity and perverse static. His words poured from a barely-open mouth like bile, something horrible that needed to be evacuated from the body.

"But, the next day, to everyone's astonishment, the maiden returned to them. She had not completed her quest; she had truly been lost in the forest of dark magic."

A gruesome grin cracked across his face, and the tapping of his fingers grew in tempo and intensity, until their tips stung and drops of blood leaked out of them. Every movement, no matter how slight it may have been before, was fed by manic energy until it looked like the Toa was convulsing in the spasms of death.

"The maiden was lost in the woods. No one could say otherwise."

And then--

--all movement stopped, and he slumped back down to the ground. All of the unearthly power that had seemed to flood his body faded, leaving him as he was before; staring at a starry sky, drumming out a tune restlessly.

"And yet, she still came back."

Toa Rynekk Simul's lips parted, leaving two last words floating in the air.

"The End."

...

Tap tap tap tap tap

-Void

[The Lorax]

IC (Koriaha, Fortress):

As the two huntsment plunged into the fortress, Koriaha was struck by an idea. He took the lead again, moving through the hallways now with a destination in mind. He took them most of the way in towards refugee territory, but not quite, finally stopping at what once must have been an elabortely decorated door. Now, all that was left was a large, thick stone slab hanging on bent and rusted hinges, surrounded by a thick, square iron frame. The door stood slightly open.

 

This was the heart of the Destral fortress, the throneroom of the Makuta. Very few beings had stepped inside since the fall of the Makuta, and those who had told dark stories of the place. It was a place of power and darkness, if not any real threat.

 

"Go on in" Koriaha told Gandor. "This is a place where few dare to tread. Prove yourself fearless, worthy of the Hunt. Go beyond what ordinary beings would do, and set yourself above them. Go inside."

[Samus Aran-Bounty Hunter]

IC: Takari (Meeting Place)

Having bandaged her Kikanalo, she's now proceeded to the meeting place, lazily tossing a stone into the air and catching it, just for something to do.

Gorast's Gate. Not her favorite place to be, holding a mix of sadness, fear, and pride all mixed into one, though most of her emotions come from just the name of it.

More specifically, the mention of Gorast.

An image or two tries to surface, but she shoves it down again. Takari has told herself, that's one of the things she doesn't think about.

Another one being fire.

She shivers slightly. Memories, memories, why must they haunt her..

Zakaro

Edited April 17, 2013 by Zakar0%

[Elrond of Rivendell]

IC(Blax, Battlefield):

 

"Then I yeild to higher judgement." Said the dark-skinned Xeno. His point made, he settled down against the tunnel wall, and began sharpening one of his numberous throwing knives. His four hands worked meticulously, sharpening the now dull and bloody knife with the hands of a craftsman, or at least a man who is well used to keeping his equipment in order. He shifted his lower set of hands behind his back, with the almost insectile grace that characterized his race. "Ready when you are."

 

-Elrond

[Void Emissary]

IC: Havoc of the Wild Hunt

Gorast's Gate

There it was. Gorast's Gate. The last gravestone of a powerful, and now thoroughly dead, enemy.

Riding in on my mighty steed, Saccage, I take stock of our resources for this mission. Four huntsmen, each one a capable warrior in their own right (otherwise, why would our King Radamir send them on such an important mission?), and each one loyal to our cause (hopefully, anyway); that should be quite adequate for our purposes.

I arrive at the great portal, absently tapping the hilts of my new daggers and lamenting the loss of my axe. It was a pity; a shame; that I should lose my most faithful weapon in battle. But it had been a choice between preserving my ever-beating heartlight and the cold steel of my blade; the decision was obvious.

Besides, if this raid reveals success, then I will have time and opportunity enough to retrieve my axe -- and hopefully spill some new refugee blood with it, in the process.

-Void

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua, Fortress):

Soon, all four of the asigned huntsmen had arrived at Gorast's Gate, actually ahead of time. That was good, Kehua thought, because it said something about the team. They were some of the most skilled huntsmen on Destral, hand picked by Ramidir for his council, and, Kehua suspected, to go on this mission as well. Each of them was strong, clever, and efficient. If there was any group on the island that could make a journey into the deepest pits of the Makuta and return with good news to give the king, it was them.

 

"Right, now that we're all here, let's get started" he began. "Amadene, I see you brought lightstones as well. That means we'll have six between us, which should be sufficient to see by. If we need more light, I'll use my mask. I figure that the best plan of attack is to head straight down, going as deep as we can in the least amount of time. The nastiest, darkest creatures, the sort Ramidir wants us to find, should have retreated the furthest away from the light, and used the Rahkshi and the other, lesser terrors down there as guards to keep beings like us from their domains. If that doesn't yeild any results, we can always resort to a systematic search of the dungeons - probably in pairs to cover the ground more quickly.

"Should we encounter something of this nature, we should not provoke it unless it is absolutely unavoidable. Remember, this is a scouting mission. The king ordered us to search and learn, not to fight and destroy. We must observe and plan before taking any action that might later be proved unwise. Rash actions have no place when we are dealing with so many unknowns.

"The only exception to this will be these new invaders of Destral, who have now taken half the island for themselves. To any we meet down there, be they gathering supplies or searching we we are, no quarter will be given. They will die by our blades."

 

"Unless there is anything else to be said," he concluded "Let's be on our way". He lifted his sheild and took the first steps into the dark fortress, heading for the first set of stairs cut into the rock.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

GM IC: (Door to Mutran's Laboratory)

Indeed, the door responded to Zartor's command. The jaws did snap shut. However, this helped little for now, because what they had essentially done was snap shut around the lock.

 

A slightly wiser command might've done the trick. Not this one, though.

 

IC: (Battlefield)

"Right, then," Amarthis nodded, "Let us be off."

 

Reared by Zaak and Blax, the Vortixx proceeded in the direction of the dungeons. There was a stairway leading to their destination just a few corners away. While the stairway itself was a little too steep to be used for the bringing of resources out - there was a slightly better ramp for that particular purpose a little bit further away - they could most definitely use it to get into the undergrounds.

[Visaru]

IC (Throne Room)

 

Gandor paused at the enormous doors, feeling fear turning in his chest. He swallowed, as the tales others told of the room echoed in his mind. That there lay the darkness of Destral’s past. There in that room was the heart of Makuta’s evil, still throbbing even in the ruins. There was evil there. Even through the huge doors Gondar felt the chill from the room’s aura. His Kikanalo paused, it’s eyes burning dully, not taking a single step towards the enormous doors.

Gandor could not turn back now. Not without seeming weak in front of his companion. Not without seeming weak in front of himself. If he left now he’d never forgive himself. If he left now he would be a weakling. He would have proven himself to be craven, a coward. And he wasn’t. Gandor was a fighter, a champion, stoic in the face of any odds.

Wasn’t he?

Gandor dismounted, landing heavily on the ground and almost buckling under his own weight. He handed the reins to Koriaha and took a step forwards towards the door. Every sense screamed at him to turn back.

No.

He slowly walked forwards, watching the door loom in front of him. It was so big, so ominous. And he knew it was nothing compared to what lay beyond.

The ghostly Toa placed his palms on the enormous slabs of metal and pushed. The massive doors creaked slowly open, majestically revealing the long room. It was dark. There was nothing on the walls, only faded areas where once had been masks or skulls, trophies representing the Makuta’s might. The architecture was similar to the rest of the fortress, but somehow more sinister. Slightly more angular, slightly more sharp and vicious. At the end of the dusty hallway was the huge throne, shrouded in darkness.

A gust of cold wind rushed out, and Gandor shuddered slightly. He had to brace himself, fight to stop his legs from turning and running away.

I am a fool, he thought with a force as he slowly walked forwards, his footsteps echoing. There is nothing here but dust and shadows.

But the fear was still there, defying logic. There was nothing to fear, he told himself, repeating the phrase over and over in his mind, but the feeling lingered. There was no reason for it- he had no fear of the dark, no frightening nightmares about monsters lurking in unseen places. There was absolutely no reason to feel as he did.

And it frustrated him more than anything that he couldn’t help it.

Every step was a struggle as he grew closer and closer to the throne, but every step increased his anger with himself. He was a warrior, a champion, and he could not be scared away. He would always stand strong. This was who he was, and no dark room was going to change that.

Finally, after what seemed like decades, Gandor arrived at the end of the room. The menacing throne rose above him. Even with Gandor’s huge size, the throne dwarfed him. Not only that, but it was threatening looking too, built with hard edges and look of power. Well, not anymore. It was in two pieces now, slashed in half by Radamir, his lord. Still, the fear grew.

Gandor grit his teeth, ignored his emotions, and pulled himself up to sit on the broken throne, feeling another round of shivers pass through his body. He felt as if he was desecrating something sacred. But he wasn’t, he knew. It was just an old chair.

Gandor sat in the ruin of Destral’s throne, looking down the hallway he had just walked down. A safe path, with no danger, but he still felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. He had conquered his fear. Gandor had won his own private battle. Not by strength, but by willpower.

It was good to know he was the man he thought he was.

Edited April 18, 2013 by Visaru

[Void Emissary]

IC: Destral Fortress - Havoc

 

A little part of me slumps away into the darkness when I hear Kehua explain that this a scouting mission, and thus, unprovoked attack on unknown creatures is not to occur. If not for the fact that the order came from King Radamir himself, I would have roared at the Huntsman in outrage and demanded to challenge his verdict.

 

But I shall not defy the word of my liege; so I keep my mouth shut as I dismount Saccage.

 

"Kehua, Takari, Amadene," I rumble, "May we hunt well, down in the depths. Spiritspeed to us all."

 

-Void

[Samus Aran-Bounty Hunter]

IC: Takari (Gate)

"Indeed, fellow. Let Mata-Nui smile upon us in our search."

She quickly follows Kehua into the fortress, not wanting to stay near Gorast's Gate any longer.

Her memories slowly die down, due to the less-familiar hallways and her focus on other things.

Zakaro

[Elrond of Rivendell]

IC(Blax, corridors of the Destral fortress): After a series of twists and turns, Amarthis led them to the stairs. Unlike some of the other doorways, which were large to accomadate a Makuta's large set of armor platings, this door was relatively small, barely larger than matoran height.

 

Blax didn't like it. Sure, he had been to the dungeons thousands of times before, gathering supplies for other refugees. But today, the labrynth seemed especially dark. It seemed to try and allure you down, without the promise of a safe trip back. Like Makuta themselves, it reeked of treachery. Going down there was like accepting an invitation to get stabbed in the back. But enough romanticism. If the refugees needed something, Blax would get it for them, and Blax always delivered.

 

He began the slow decent down the narrow stair only after setting a torch on fire. That done, he ventured slowly into the darkness...

 

-Elrond

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua, Dungeons): Once all that needed to be said had been said, the team of huntsmen moved swiftly down into the darkness. Each of them bore a lightstone or two to light the way, so they were able to pick a sure, direct path downwards. As they progressed, the tunnels got shorter and narrower, moving off in unexpected directions. Their footfalls created oddly dischordant echoes that rang further and longer as they went deeper. Apart from that, there was no noise in the tunnels.

Kehua estimated that they must have been at least 50 bio underground by this point. He didn't know how deep these dungeons went, but this was about as far down as he'd ever been in life, maybe a bit further. He was just wondering if he recognised a particular passageway when they came to a Y-intersection and he realised that he definitely didn't. Both branches of the fork were too long for their lightstones to reach the ends of, so he couldn't tell which might lead them further downwards, if either. He paused in front of the split, wondering which branch he should take.

[Void Emissary]

IC: Destral Fortress - Havoc

I watched, through flickering light and suffocating shadow, Kehua pause at the fork in the tunnel we had arrived at. I glanced at both branches, pondering our conundrum myself. There were no features in the tunnels which could tell us where they led, and the limits of their darkness could not be penetrated by our lightstones. With a grimace, it dawned on me that our decision, whatever it is, will be made by pure guesswork.

 

One hallway could lead us to our doom.

 

The other could lead us to our salvation.

 

"Well," I began slowly, "It would appear that the universe does, in fact, have a sense of humour.

 

"Since both passageways provide equal chances of life and death," my musings continued, "I vote that we go right."

 

-Void

[Samus Aran-Bounty Hunter]

IC: Takari (Dungeon)

"Or we could spilt up. We've got 4 Huntsmen, enough to keep anyone from needing to go alone."

She shrugs next, continuing.

"But perhaps it would be best to stay together. We can always backtrack to this point and head down the other route if nothing works out on that side."

The former Ta-Toa takes out her dagger and marks the wall between the two paths, and then the floor. It'll be easier to see where they truly went one way or another.

"Either way would be fine for me."

Zakaro

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Zartor / Mutran's Lab

 

Zartor continued to keep his gaze caught on the Takea shark jaws, and this time spoke forth the words, "Open your jaws."

 

He then thought of what to command next. Deciding for another text, he commanded it to, "Speak."

 

IC: Amadene / Destral Hallways

 

Amaden spoke, saying, "It would be more prudent to stay together. Should we fall, we may return and move the other way. But as a group, we stand a better chance against whatever threats emerge, and not risk such a turn of events. Separate? We all fall."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua, Dungeons): "That is wise, I think" Kehua decided. "Let's all head right". Holding a lightstone high in front of him, he started down the dark passageway.

[Padishah Mehmet II]

IC: (Amarthis, Destral Dungeons)

With a lightstone in her hand, the Vortixx warrior descended down the stairway into the damp, reeking labyrinth that were the dungeons of Destral. Quietly and slowly, with weapons at the ready, the trio proceeded down the hallways. Step by step they went further and further into the darkness.

 

"Shhh!" she finally suddenly muttered to her companions, freezing in place, listening to the sounds in the background. There was a small, practically undistinguishable clicking sound somewhere.

 

"Not a Rahkshi. Probably some bigger Rahi, but not a Rahkshi."

 

Nobody would be really curious on how she knew that. After a while in these dungeons, you got to know the different sounds that different Rahi in this place made. Practically everyone who ever went on a ranging out here was experienced on this by now.

 

GM IC: (Destral Dungeons)

 

Meanwhile, in another part of the dungeons, Kehua, taking one careful, lightstone-illuminated step after another, suddenly found himself staring into the eyes of a Rahkshi of Weather Control.

 

It wasn't moving, and the eyes were empty and dark. Evidently there was no Kraata within. There was text, however, etched onto the Rahkshi's shoulder in what seemed peculiarly like Skakdi.

 

(Entrance to Mutran's Lab)

 

The Takea shark jaws obeyed the first command, opening slowly. And then a voice emanated from them, although the actual jaws remained unmoving.

 

"Who is this?"

 

Surprisingly, the voice sounded rather fearful, or at least startled. This was not the type of voice you'd come to expect from the door to Mutran's lab, of all places. This was the type of voice you'd come to expect from a teenager fearing punishment from his parents from doing something wrong.

Edited April 21, 2013 by Eduard Bernstein

[The Lorax]

IC (Kehua, Dungeons): When his light reached the Rahkshi, Kehua reacted quickly, raising his sheild and preparing his mask to blow the creature back with the roar of a kikanalo. He was only just able to stop himself when he realised that the shell was uninhabited. He lowered his spear again, though he kept his shield up, just in case, and went to examine the abandoned armour. There was writing engraved on the shoulder, though he couldn't read it himself - it wasn't a language he recognised.

"There is writing here" he told the other Huntsmen, "Though I cannot read it. Do any of you have the skill to decipher it?"