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IC: Turn the clock back a few minutes. Come to that, turn the calendar back a few years. Makuta is still alive and well. The Po-Koro Guard has been on watch for a long, long time even before Pohatu and the First Toa showed up. A hundred rough years after they disappeared the Po-Koro Guard is on watch still. Some changes in that time, sure. One Toa became a bunch. Lots of other kinds of people start showing up. But the Guard is the Guard, and it keeps doing the same thing it's been doing since forever. Then six Rahkshi break down the front door, kill a bunch of people, and a kid is promoted to Colonel overnight. Some people have all the luck. Then a pirate chucks a living bomb into your headquarters, blows up the place, kills a bunch of your personnel, and kidnaps your Turaga. Your Turaga gets kidnapped again. Then assassinated. And then a Rahkshi army kicks down the door you just fixed and a lot more people die. Your local sports legend gets made Akiri and has to figure out what to do about this. For whatever reason the Kolhiihead decides to try and match the Ta-Koro Guard and rebrands along the way. Now the Guard is the Sentinels instead. Being an athlete and not a general, your new political lord and master doesn't really get that making up the numbers doesn't mean much by itself. You've just diluted the core competency that you had. But at least your Captain understands that, and yadda-yadda-ing your way past a whole lot of politics you get a new Akiri who at least knows what she doesn't know. The civilian side of things is great, and aside from some weird decisions like making a Po-Koro navy the Captain gets to have the freedom to run things the way they need to run. But the Cap'n's still faced with a pretty big experience deficit, and more territory to protect than ever. What do you do about it? Well, you get smart. "Look like you could use a hand, ma'am," A voice, barely audible over the rushing air and the clacking train, preceded a hand being offered towards Kohra. The rough looking Toa, in comparison, was not hunched or prone on the train's roof; he almost looked to be at ease, except for the foot planted behind him to brace against the wind. His feet were stuck to the roof as easy as he'd have stood on the ground. "I could use a bit of a sit-rep. Fair 'nough?" Take your competent, disciplined core. Ruthless opposition cost you some great ones, officers who should've gone on for a long time, but it's cut out the deadwood too. Cowards court-martialed for desertion, or resigned. Incompetents killed in action or relieved during the reorganization. What's left is solid. You take a census. And you cross-assign. Because competency is contagious. Three two-guard teams on board the Mahi. Even numbers keeps anyone from going it alone, but makes it easy to organize by experience. Now we turn the clock to those last few minutes. Experience says, firstly, that whoever controls the engine controls the train. Soon as the engineers raised an alarm the duo up front got ready. Two at the back, with the stuff someone might want to steal, and two in the middle to patrol. SOP, easy and by the book. Experience also says, though, that if you're letting someone take a fair fight you're not cheating hard enough. Goes double when you're hauling something as sensitive as what he had out back. *** "E-Excuse me?" One of Baz's maligned cardboard cutouts, a nervous looking Lesterin, piped up diffidently. No one had told her to keep her hands up but she'd done it as soon as the commotion began. Now they were beginning to droop, clearly tired of holding the same position. "Um, y-you guys can do whatever you want. But can I put my arms down now?" OOC: At Silvan's request I'm taking over the NPCs for the train heist. So, attention heist crew and @Vezok's Friend, @Perp, @Tarn, and @oncertaintyspecifically.

Greetings! My second attempt at Hewkii and Macku has been made. A very happy time I had with this one, but now, after 90 assembly hours post-drafting for this sixsome, there are a million canonical-copycat changes I crave to carry out! Oh well, time will tell! Tutorial and pattern for this version at least, with more project info & pictures that I fear is redundant if also typed here! https://www.instructables.com/Hewkii-Macku-Dolls-BIONICLE-MNOG-Inspired-Plush-To/ Best wishes for you and your stitches!

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] "Hey now," the pirate replied, furrowing his brow and raising his palms in a gesture of restraint. "Let's not be too hasty. As I see it, there's no need to be dismissin' heroics entirely. The trick is to believe in, shall we say...the heroism of self-interest." As he spoke, Lohkar sidled around to Tailua's side and wrapped an arm chummily around the Toa's shoulders, casting his other hand towards an imagined horizon with the air of a visionary. One could almost hear the swell of triumphant music. "Goin' where ya choose, doin' as ya please, and thumbin' yer nose at anybody who thinks they can stop ya. Once you look at things that way, there's all sorts o' noble adventurin' to be had, wherever the winds take ya." He bumped a conspiratorial fist against Tailua's shoulder. "Freedom, mate. That's real heroism." He grinned, blue eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a man who knew the true meaning of life. "An' I should know. I'm somethin' of a hero myself." OOC: @Emzee@BULiK @Void Emissary

IC: Baszlin - Iron Mahi “Mmmm, not really. I’m doing it for a favor. The company’s been appreciated, though. That, and a couple of decent meals for once. Not so bad when you don’t have rabid junki-” At once, the metallic screeching emanating from the aft end of the train began to intensify, sending shudders down the line of cars. It was a struggle to hear Surdo over the din. Baszlin’s head swiveled in the Matoran’s direction, but it made little difference. He simply saw Surdo’s hands clamped over his ears, mouth moving. “What’s that?!” he shouted over the noise. “Want me to tell them to quiet it down?” He spun around without waiting for a reply, heading towards his charge. However, he passed him by, sticking his head through the open doorway of the engine car where there was a ruckus between a Toa and the psycho from earlier. They’d gotten into some sort of fracas, and it was clearly disturbing the peace. The compartment emanated with the sounds of sizzling flesh and electrical discharge. People were floating around and zapping each other with electricity. Total chaos. It was up to Baszlin to sort it out. Player 2 has entered the game. “Hey! Could you keep it down?! We can’t hear ourselves think! Thank you.” His deed done, Baszlin turned back towards the passenger car. Player 2 has left the game. “Now, where were we…?” he muttered as he approached the Lesterin once again. OOC: @Morgan Yu @Krayzikk @Tarn

IC: Lorqua - Red Star Inn Something was going on, something that Lorqua and Lutenus were clearly not privy to. Lorqua felt like she had an itch. An itch that she just couldn't scratch, because it was inside her skull. Still, it was important to be polite, wasn't it? She cast a quick glance at Lutenus, her unlikely ally in this case. It was clear he wanted to know too, perhaps just as badly as she did. She'd follow his lead. For now, at least. He had to right, that they could speak later. Everyone was going to Tajun. Even Lorqua, to the surprise of herself from mere minutes ago. But this was getting interesting, perhaps interesting enough to make it all worth it. "Hey uh, if you all need to leave pressingly that is what it is; but don't do it on Lutenus' and my account, we're not here to mess with anyone." She certainly wasn't, Lorqua just couldn't help herself from wanting to know. Lutenus, well, she couldn't say for sure. OOC: @Toru Nui @Morgan Yu @Snelly @Techn0geist IC: Skrall - Outside Roxtus Stables Having drawn his weapon, Skrall circled. The not-quite-still-a-prisoner just couldn't be fighting in every direction at once. If they really wanted to solve the issue they could all just pile on; it would solve the problem. But Skrall knew Skrall, and knew that that kind of thing seemed entirely undignified. Skrall preferred to fight in formation, not just like a brutal mob. Leave that to Bone Hunters and Southerners. Skrall with the grappling hook seemed to have the right idea, so he poised himself ready to spring. The erstwhile prisoner would be off-balance from the grappling hook, if it didn't take him down completely. OOC: @Vezok's Friend @BULiK @Burnmad @Nato G @Toru Nui @a goose IC: Escus - Vulcanus Streets Escus had found his way east from Tajun, despite the games about to start. He was drawn as if by a need, a compulsion. He told himself it was a chance to work his way upwards, and he believed it well enough. A keen observer though, if they spoke to Escus for a long time, drew out those things that he didn't say even to himself, would have been left with the impression that he would have travelled to Vulcanus, put his name on that list, no matter what he told himself. No such observer walked with Escus today, though. He had left Tajun without a word to anyone. Not that he thought he was doing anything that he didn't have a right to do: it would be wrong to stop him. It was just that, at the bottom of things, he had to do it.

IC: Maxas and Lutenus (Atero, Red Star Inn) - Suspicion Oh, of course they knew each other - and it was clear that simply asking wasn’t going to work. “I see I’ve caught you at a bad time - perhaps we’ll speak later?” After all, he knew well where they were going… Maxas crept into the inn, took up a solitary booth near the entrance, and scanned the barroom for this Iron Glatorian Dornak spoke of… There. The feckless pawn of Vulcanus spoke true. This one was out and about in Atero while all contact with their tribe was lost? This was suspicious. An influx of Jungle Glatorian near them - what was that all about? @Snelly @oncertainty @Techn0geist @Morgan Yu IC: Vraek (Streets of Atero) - Impurity of Ice What?! A thousand curses! No - TEN thousand! How dare they- Restraining her anger, Vraek shifts focus to Jeizmel. “I… I am sorry. Truly. But there’s nothing I can do for you. Metus won’t listen to me… it seems nobody does.” Vraek added, bitterly - though this referred to her anti-cybernetic views. “This foolishness will pass, I promise. I trust you’ve found some refuge in the meantime?” @That Matoran with a Vahi IC: Skrall (Roxtus, Stables) - Resistance Is Mandatory Skrall and Skrall with an unusual physique was assisting. Food. Water. Spare armour and armaments. Repair tools for both carriage and occupants… Prisoner was resisting. Skrall calmly set down the box he was carrying, and drew his weapons. There was conflict over the appropriate course of action. Why? Was it not known? He knew why. He just did not like why. “Skrall must not relinquish Skrall’s weapons, but Skrall must still take them from Skrall, shield included.” He said, fully serious. “The renegades will take it from Skrall nonetheless, so it is best for Skrall to take it, so it need not be replaced, instead repurposed.” @oncertainty @Vezok's Friend @BULiK @a goose @Nato G @Burnmad IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold) - I’m Getting Takeout And then, Taldrix was alone. Like always. She visited the stores of the stronghold to get a measly sum of food and drink for their little quarantine patient, and then, with that in hand, went back to check on the Aula Agoria. She better not be dying already - that would be very inconsiderate. Perhaps… a little hit of Spice? Just before - no, not in front of her. Don’t want the item getting any ideas. @a goose IC: Xyde (Precipere, Outside Somok’s Hut) - Fooling Yourself Right then. Xyde finished up being sorry for themself and trudged over to Somok’s place. They hoped that this business with Ferrum wasn’t anything serious. It was unusual, yes, to lose all contact with one of the big five - Roxtus didn’t and would never count without a drastic change in management - but many smaller tribes often had to stop sending envoys for one reason or another. Maybe it was just they didn’t feel like sending envoys, or participating in the Games? No, no, something calamitous had happened, and whether they helped out or not, those Fire Tribe idiots would commit grievous crimes against logic and reason to blame Precipere for it. They hung outside the big boss hut, applying their distinct rhythmic knocking to the door. @Nato G @Geardirector

GM IC: "oop!" Gravity reasserting itself is never fun. Sentinel training included, at least once, experiencing what it's like to have gravity messed with. One of the most fundamental forces in the world, and a small but significant number of people could mess around with it. It's disorienting, it's nauseating, it just plain sucks. When it comes back you wind up smacked onto the floor. Which is exactly what happened. There wasn't much time for the Hau, and it wouldn't have helped. She hit the deck, catching herself on her other forearm to avoid breaking her nose on the floor. “Hey! Could you keep it down?! We can’t hear ourselves think! Thank you.” "You're welcome," She grumbled instinctively— before realizing she was being thanked by one of the troublemakers. Nui, that wasn't a great look. "Ugh." Karmine got a reprieve for the moment. The whole car was metal, avoiding shocking the wrong person was easy when all the lightning needed was a little nudge. With him in the air it crackled dangerously between his feet and the surface— probably inflicting tissue damage on said soles, electricity was rough— but it slowed and abated. The Toa was still essentially tethered by the chain now partially melted onto his arm. "Sir, this is your final warning." She snarled. "I have no desire to kill you. But the next shock'll be for effect." @Morgan Yu@Tarn *** Yup, someone was definitely down there. The grunt followed by an impact spoke to that. However... Nota reached out with his element, searching for the telltale magnetic affinity found on the gear used everywhere on the island. Inside of the space between cars it should have been easy to spot. But it wasn't, and that meant his quarry was no longer in that space. The Mahi's metal skin made it possible for him to traverse it, but it also made those traces of affinity much harder to spot. Consciously or not he'd been camouflaged. So he was forced to resort to his brain. He didn't see him move back to the next car, or fall off. Both would have been visible. He'd have heard if he opened the entrance to the car below. So he clung, in some manner, to one of the three sides of the car adjacent. Ahead, by the door, or to the left or right. Figuring that out got a lot easier when the Vortixx— Kohra— shouted a question. He could see where she was looking. So the Sergeant lowered himself down, magnetizing his hands as well as his feet to the surface, and crept slowly towards the edge. Stay low, assess, then act. @Void Emissary@oncertainty@Vezok's Friend *** "You're committing a felony as a favor?" The Lesterin looked confused, troubled. She lowered her voice conspiratorially when the Skakdi came back, shooting worried looks towards the engine. "Baz, that crazy Toa's trying to kill people." @Perp

IC: Del - Red Star Inn, Atero "It's going to be fun..." Del repeated, visibly puzzling out the words; the meaning, many more meanings, were sitting just beyond a threshold. In time they would return, as long-dormant parts of the Glatorian's brain were reached out to and reawoken. A hitherto-unknown fan in Del's helmet began to quietly hum. Behind and beside Del, the two Agori had stopped laughing but held uncomfortable faux-smiles on their faces. Mard was the first to notice. "On your seven, in the booth. Slow and casual." He hissed out in a whisper, guardsman's instinct kicking in. Ahmoa, as per instruction, turned back towards the bar and glanced over his shoulder past Del. From the corner of his eye he saw two Tesaran Glatorian staring, the more obviously cybernetic of them pointing, right at... Del? Why was everyone so interested in them? No, not them expressly. The Fire Agori turned back to his partner and let his smile drop as the two began to approach the bar. "What happened to Ferrum?' The crimson guard grimly speculated. Perhaps the duo were mistaken, maybe the woman had just recognised Skyra across the Red Star. But the man, the cyborg... no, his half-mechanical gaze was fixed on the Iron Tribal. Mard suppressed a shudder, thinking about the madman Celrys who'd made his name by shoving metal into people and seeing what stuck. He was confident in his read of this one at least; trouble. Del, meanwhile, was making their own independent assessment of the newcomers, their gaze settling past Skyra's shoulder. They took particular note of the cyborg. Analysing scenario. Prostheses present in green Glatorian. Ocular simulacrum replacing eye sinister. Capability unknown. Assume presence of enhanced optical performance. Additional prosthesis replacing skull posterior. Type unknown. Capability unknown. Glatorian body language indicates heightened awareness of Del. I. No present threat. Maintain awareness. As with the nervous wreck of an Agori they'd briefly had as a drinking partner, Del stared right back at the Tesaran cyborg, their eyes bouncing from between the organic and cybernetic one and showing no sign of settling on either. OOC: @Snelly @Toru Nui

I'm not going to address all of your points, because I really don't think it's as much of a decisive or divisive issue as you make it out to be. People have long played pick-and-choose when it comes to which aspects of canon they want to accept, and what headcanons of their own they want to include. Greg has an awful habit of contradicting himself and forgetting details and making split-second decisions that he couldn't justify. He even retconned books that were written before he came onboard to what he believed better fit his intended themes and story arcs. Greg's word was never the be-all and end-all of Bionicle's lore, and I think most people who look at a BS01 article and see a half-dozen footnotes going back-and-forth over Greg's contradictory statements realise that. As you said, Bionicle was a collaborative creation. There was an entire story team to oversee this stuff when the theme was still in Lego's hands, and Greg alone can't be expected to keep it all straight. Over the years people have put too much pressure on him, and too much stock in what he says. I see that as a problem with us as fans, not a problem with Greg, or with Bionicle itself. But setting this all aside, we're at a point now where fans have made their own decisions about what Bionicle is for them, and I don't think any amount of revelations from Faber or anyone else will change that... unless they want it to. And that's the beauty of Bionicle. At its core, it's a story about creation and change. We can take it and make it whatever we want it to be. To this specifically, I would point out that the stuff Faber came up with, as fantastic as some of it is, is only concepts. They're ideas. Amazing wild ideas that push the boundaries of Bionicle's what-if's and could-be's. They're what comes before the story team consolidates the details, before the "official" narrative is decided, before someone like Greg sits down and writes the books that become the finished product that we see. Faber himself acknowledges this in the titles of the videos: the Bionicle that could have been. He's not in any way insisting that the version of events he's discussing supercedes or takes seniority over what already exists. He's merely telling us what might have been, what we missed out on, and what we might use to inspire ourselves moving forward. We shouldn't view this as some irreconcilable divide that will create a schism in the fandom. It's just an intriguing insight into the behind-the-scenes process of developing a theme as wild and wacky as Bionicle, and perhaps some prompts for new stories we can tell within that world.

I've had some free time, which has given me the opportunity to redesign Talli in Lego Studio, as well as fully create designs for Ranok and Hatchi.

IC: Quoribay [Iron Mahi, Cargo Car #?] Having stowed away in cargo, naturally, we found ourselves to be in one of the cargo cars. But which? Obviously not the one with the ussal-less-carriage we were after, but we needed to find a way there so it was ready to unload once Dolbren made his way back here. And deal with any lingering threats along the way. For now though, the coast (aside from the ghost) was clear. To each side of the car was a door. Within that door was a window. Pretty easy to tell that to either side of us was another cargo car, but with the glare and how dim the insides of these cargo cars were, I couldn't tell which one was the prize. Or which way was the front of the train - until there was that loud creaking of metal to my left. Dolby was at work cooking up some chicanery. So that unintentional-but-definitely-intentional signal told me that the car on my left side was towards the front of the train (car number three out of five for any of you folks counting along at home) and the one to my right was the last car. Given the guards were distracted by the... uh... distraction that Surdo had choreographed, it was probably best to check that one first, right? WRONG! Now, rule number one of running a heist is to never fully trust your crew, especially if you plan on double crossing them. Skrol had successfully not ####ed me over so far, but who's to say the blind ####### wasn't just lucky? If the guards hadn't moved up front due to the whole hostage situation, they sure as Karz would want to check out why the train was screaming and being split in half. With a whispered "shh!" I tugged Skrol's shoulder to tell him to follow me, and then ducked behind another of the large crates on the floor. Luckily I didn't forget to put the lid back on over our old crate in the process. We would listen in case a guard ran past out of the caboose. OOC: @~Xemnas~@Krayzikk@a goose

IC: "Appreciate that, ma'am," The Sergeant said solemnly, without condescension. "Don't really like people getting hurt doin' my job, though. Appreciate it if you could make your back to the back of the carriage and proceed into the second passenger car where—" A loud groaning, creaking sound drew his ear. The Toa's head snapped towards the rear of the train. The Sentinels' presence was, most of the time, a safeguard against disaster. Or at least a first response to it. When he trained for this assignment the boss arranged for a demonstration of most of the many, many things that could go wrong and none of them were good. Not when you could hear them from the outside. "Sorry, miss, bigger fish. Your grip will hold for a couple minutes." The Sergeant crouched, a coiled spring ready to go, and added. "Please expedite your trip inside, and keep yourself and the other passengers safe. We'll make it up to all of you. Somehow." He pushed off, loosely oriented towards the rear of the Mahi, and let physics take over. Stuck to the train, identical speed. In the air? Wind resistance slowed him faster than the train. A little magnetic repulsion to keep him off the surface, reverse the charge, and— He landed nimbly at the rear of the second passenger car, stuck easily to its surface on three points. Low and controlled. Whatever was going wrong down here, it was probably between these cars. So poke it with a stick. A dagger off his belt, flipped once in the hand, and tossed underhand down into the gap between the cars. See what happened. @Vezok's Friend@oncertainty *** "No, no, of course not! No." The Lesterin smiled shakily, sheepishly. "Does... Does that pay well? Being a bodyguard?" @Perp *** The sound she made, yanked off her feet, was perhaps less the rough and tumble Sentinel and more like... She wouldn't call it a squeak. Certainly not. But it might have sounded kind of started, followed by a little nausea as gravity suddenly changed. Not nearly enough to keep her from activating her mask and avoiding a meeting with the roof, though the Hau still had to do business with physics; she let out a little oof when her acceleration stopped suddenly. "Well, color me shocked." She hissed with the smell of ozone in the air. Karmine might— might— have had a split second to spy the copper inside the chain before the whole length became electrified. It didn't even have to be directed; the enemy Toa was the fastest, most efficient path to the ground. Not enough voltage to kill— she was a Sentinel, and a Toa at that— but more than enough to leave him a scorched, convulsing mess on the engine room floor. @Tarn@Morgan Yu *** The two stowaways, emerging from their hiding place, found themselves in a cargo car. Enormous shock. Rows of crates, stacked in an orderly fashion on racks if they were small and on the floor otherwise. Labeled, tied down, and secured for the trip. If they could see that far— no one was anticipated to be in the cargo hold on a regular sort of basis, and no one wanted to be easy to rob. There were no windows, only regularly spaced lights high on the walls to illuminate the space. They cast long, irregular shadows between the crates and pallets. They were also, for the moment, alone. @~Xemnas~@BULiK

IC: Dolbren - Iron Mahi, Outdoors on the Coupling It was important to Dolbren to know at least a little about a lot. He was not unwilling to occupy the appearance of thoughtless muscle, especially when that was expeditious for a job. But, all the same, he thought of himself as a deep thinker. Right now, however, his thoughts could not be further from himself. No, what he was thinking about now was accidents on the Iron Mahi. As he had learned from a column in the Mata Nui Daily, there was one part of a locomotive responsible for the most accidents by far. This part was the coupling. There had been some well-observed description of the particulars of the couplings in the planning stage of the heist. At either end of each car, a flat-sided metal tube projected forth from the undercarriage. These couplings met at the middle point between the cars. An oblong metal loop was inserted into the open ends of both tubes, and a pin was dropped through a hole in each tube to link it all together. The issue, in a manner of speaking, was to do with the fact that the two sides of the coupling had to be guided together by hand. Someone had to stand out on the coupling while the cars were in motion, trying neither to fall nor get their hand caught between the metal halves. It had resulted in more injuries than one might hope. And now Dolbren was doing the same operation, but in reverse, and while the train was moving way, way faster. Luckily, he had a few tricks up his sleeve which ordinary rail workers did not. Judicious application of his Calix raised his balance far above most, so he stepped out onto the coupling itself without hesitation. Once he was past the halfway point he turned completely around on the ball of his foot, just the way he had once seen a dancer do. Still balanced on the coupling, which shuddered and rattled with the movement of the train, he crouched down and put his hand on one of the pins. Now facing the same way the train was travelling, the wind made Dolbren's eyes water. Secure in his place, he simply closed them. Closing his eyes made this easier anyway. The pin could be lifted out, perhaps, but the friction of the coupling in motion would make that difficult. Dolbren had settled on a different way. Focusing, he allowed his perception to overflow his hand and felt the wrought-metal pin as if it were part of himself. He felt into the core of its form, the dense point that was inevitably pulled downwards to find a place of rest. Dolbren felt that point grow heavier beneath his touch, speeding the pin on its way downward. For a moment, nothing could be heard above the rattle and scrape of wheels on track. And then there was a creak, and a visible vibration ran through the coupling. The sound grew into a high and stuttering wail, punctuated by pops as cracks formed in the metal. A smile came to Dolbren's face as he felt the coupling shift beneath his feet. Keeping one hand on the pin, he shuffled backwards and grabbed on to the railing on the front of the first cargo car. In another moment, he knew, a wail louder again would be heard and the coupling would fall away completely. OOC: @BULiK @Krayzikk @Vezok's Friend

IC: Skrall - Roxtus, War Room Outer Chamber Skrall ignored the scout's attempt to chastise him. If he thought his status as sole survivor marked him as anything but the luckiest weakling, he was dead wrong. "Matter of fact, I am confident, Skrall. At least as far as my own skills are concerned. When I am outside of my element, I defer to others who know better, as any good soldier had ought to do. So, I ask you again: What supplies will we need for our journey, Skrall?" He saw, in his peripheral vision, the female's attempt to signal them away to the stables. He did not acknowledge it. He did not take orders from equals, and certainly not from a female. OOC: @a goose @Vezok's Friend

IC: Karmine Madoc - Recommended listening "Oh, well, that's alright, sorry. We came to have a gander and if there were any extra seats back here, it's quite crowded toda-" CRACK! CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! The taste of blood trickles from your tongue. Loosen your karzin' bite, you'll finish up eating it at that rate. A tight, faint trail of smoke rises from the barrel of your tool of havoc. Don't dare lower it yet. OOC: @Perp@Krayzikk@Tarn Karmine shooting at the guard.

IC: Tirveus [Roxtus, War Room] The general looked to the Skrall of the five that spoke up in answer, his glare pulsing deadlier upon examining just what was asking him the question. Inconceivable. He almost forgot the question, merely staring with discontent for a few unsettling moments. Skrall writhed against the wall. "Heading directly to Atero is foolhardy and pointless. The southern tourneys are not built equally - what matters strategically is the Great Tournament, and before the Great Tournament can proceed there are the exhibition matches. The first of which is in Tajun." "The fastest route is by way of Tesara, but -" Tirveus looked to Skrall, whose squirming was slowing down, the pace of panic simultaneously calmer yet twitching with more vigor. "You will go by way of Atero." His massive hand loosed its grip and Skrall slid down the wall, violently gagging against his own drool in a fight for breath. The pathetic crumple of armor didn't dare raise a finger. Head against the floor, he looked up at Tirveus with reverent fear. "Skrall here abandoned his watch, and many more paid the price of his incompetence. He is a danger to the strength of the Whole, and must be expunged." "Follow My River south past the Dark Falls until you see a lone mesa to your east. You will sell Skrall there to the Bone Hunters in exchange for safe harbor, fresh water, and future commitments. My Ordinarius will accompany you to project my will and make said arrangements." Atakus bowed. "You will continue southward until my river is truly dead, and you see Sandray Canyon to your west. Beyond that lies Tajun, and your first victory." "Requisition the necessary rock steeds and Spikit carts from the war stables, and leave without delay. There is a Skrall outside who has scouted these territories, he will be your guide through the wastelands." Tirveus kicked Skrall towards the five others, the disgraced warrior rolling on the granite floor. "Dismissed," he snarled.

IC: "Situation report," The Toa enunciated, slowly and patiently. A quick twitch of his fingers secured the Vortixx more readily to the roof- magnets were pretty nifty- and he gestured with the same finger to the roof below his feet. "Been a son of a Brakas before, but I don't think I've been associated lately. Sarge Nota, Sentinels, here to thump some bad guys." "If you could point 'em out, that'd sure make it easier Miss...?" IC: The Iron Mahi's engine isn't as big as you might think. Rather, the engine is exactly as big as you think but the room for its engineers is rather smaller. Most of what would be useful space on a passenger or cargo car is taken up by the Mahi's engine itself, leaving a control room a little less than half the length of a standard car and only about three quarters as wide. Little hatches and alcoves, accesses to service spaces for the Mahi, dotted the walls and floor. The far wall consisted almost entirely of controls and gauges. Except, of course, for the Toa of Lightning standing between the intruders and there. "Halt!" She pointed accusingly. "This area is off limits to passengers. Return to your seats!" @Tarn@Perp@Morgan Yu

IC: Dornak and Lutenus (Atero, Red Star Inn) - Rush Hour “Dornak.” He said, abruptly. “I just, uh, heard about Ferrum, and I, uh, wondered if any of you knew what happened? If-if it’s a sensitive subject I-I can just… leave.” He offered, already sort of shuffling off his stool. Lutenus chuckled. “Oh yes - soon the caravans will be departing en masse south. That many Glatorian and armed Agori should deter any would-be attackers. Even Vorox know better. And if I’m wrong, well… nothing like a little live combat to prepare you for the arena. Going early to avoid the traffic sounds tempting, until you realise you’ll be going all alone.” @Techn0geist @Snelly @Morgan Yu @oncertainty IC: Skrall (Roxtus, Outside Barracks) - Measuring Contest Skrall joined Skrall, Skrall and Skrall as they exited the barracks and began making their way to speak with Leader Tirveus, catching sight of Skrall. He was not confident, especially not in the special operations class Skrall. Why did every conversation devolve into petty infighting, concealed or otherwise, in a contest to see who was the most Skrall of Skrall? He knew why. He just did not like why. There was something unusual about Skrall - the one with the unusual physique, which is what was unusual. Skrall were individuals united, there was room for deviation because there logically had to be. But this was different. Irrelevant - he was Skrall. You see, Skrall had not seen enough females in his life to be able to notice. @Burnmad @Vezok's Friend @Nato G @oncertainty IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold, Outside Somnii’s Cell) - The Right Arm Well then. Perhaps the Ghost didn’t quite command the loyalty she had thought he did from Crucius. What was he up to? “As you say - and the second thing?” @a goose

IC/ Skrall/ Roxtus/ Stables/ The moment their cargo went down, she moved again, the winch in her arm reeling to keep tension on the grapple. Once-skrall heard articulated crampons digging into the ground to his sides and then felt a knee between his shoulder blades as she straddled him. “Resist - it’ll hurt.” She doubted physical pain could match the feeling of having his shield taken and then being wrangled by her of all people. She looked back up at the other skrall, either watching or talking, then around the stables again. Plenty of rope, spikit harnesses and other belts on hand. “Fetters.” She demanded. OOC: @BULiK @a goose @skrall

IC: Lorqua - Red Star Inn She gave Lutenus a slight smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, but, I'm only now starting to appreciate your thoroughness. Let's see them again." She breathed in and rubbed her chin with one hand. "I'm happy to leave immediately, everything I need I can carry. If we can find a driver leaving presently I wouldn't complain, we'd only need a few more blades and I'd be willing to take our chances with the desert. Is there anything keeping you here any longer?" OOC: @Toru Nui IC: Skrall - Outside Roxtus Stables Skrall rushed forward, sheathing his own khopesh and taking the now-imprisoned-again-prisoner's blade and shield from him. Having done so, he stood and gave the one with the strange physique a single firm nod. Skrall had shown good thinking, using the grappling hook like that. Then Skrall looked bashfully about himself, and spoke to no one in particular. "I apologize about the supplies in that box. I hope they weren't fragile." He held the prisoner's equipment in both hands before him, not sure what exactly to do with it. OOC: @BULiK @Vezok's Friend @Nato G @Toru Nui @Burnmad @a goose

Antique Orator ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Be wary of the despots that curse these lands. All they see are subjects. Be wary of the demagogues that whisper in your ear. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Instagram Flickr Gallery

IC: Skyra Daring - Red Star Inn - Skyra took the money with a nod before pocketing it away. "No worries, Del will get there safely." Ah, well that was a new one. Things were starting to click into place now, not that it mattered to Skyra. Her job hadn't changed with this new information. She gave an apologetic smile towards Lorqua and Lutenus. "Yeah sorry, gotta go!" She had to do what was best for her client after all. With a mental command her vehicle roared to life as it started it's engine just outside the inn. "Okay Del, let's go find your daddy." Skyra chirped as she headed out the door. @oncertainty @Morgan Yu @Toru Nui @Techn0geist

IC: Karak - Red Star Inn The energy's dislodged. I only catch a single word from the orange one - "Father". To me, it means nothing. Faces around shift and drop. The air feels cloudy. It stabs at me like brambles. Skyra returns my earlier sentiment - and so I watch for her look. Cargo is her first priority. Not mine. Any difficulty created is her burden. OOC: @oncertainty@Toru Nui@Techn0geist @Snelly

IC: Del - Red Star Inn, Atero For the first time, Mard and Karak were on the same wavelength. He nodded firmly at Ahmoa, who returned the gesture, the two hopping off their stools and preparing to leave. Further music to the duo's ears. "A splendid idea, Miss Daring." Ahmoa said, pulling a coin purse from his belt and pouring about half more than 'the usual rate' for desert travel out, beckoning for Skyra's hand and folding the coinage into her grip. He lowered his voice to a steely whisper. "That's an increase on your fee. It seems there are parties in our midst with a vested interest in our friend, and you..." he glanced down at her twin katanas, "...would appear to be a warrior, as well as a driver. We'd join your travels in an escort capacity but..." "We don't kid ourselves about how bad we are at fightin'," Mard finished not-so-tactfully. "We ain't even proper guardsmen, we started out in a theatre troupe." Ahmoa heaved a sigh. "...thank you, dear. In any case, should the interested parties prove to hold malicious intent, I trust you will provide your client with not only transport but protection, in an... aggressive capacity-" "Wait, uhh, Ahmoa?" Mard chimed in anticlimactically, just now noting the amount of coinage his partner just gave Skyra. "How are we paying for this 'increase on her fee', exactly?" "It's coming out of your dessert fund," the crimson guard responded, without looking or missing a beat. Caught. It was impressive for a Tesaran to blush that red amidst so much green. However, he could see Ahmoa's lips curl into a rare cheeky grimace, and felt the heat drain from his face. "Del!" Ahmoa called to get the Iron Tribal's laser-focused attention away from the cyborg, Mard waving to the same end. Their head twisted abruptly to stare at the duo instead, their analytical mind seeming to settle after a brief moment. "Mard. Ahmoa." The two couldn't help but smile. "It's time you set out, Del," Ahmoa said warmly. "To 'find Celrys'," Mard added with a wink. "To find Celrys," Del repeated, joining the Agori, Skyra and Karak. The corners of their lips began to twitch upward ever so- Find Celrys, he's your... The Glatorian seemed to slip back into a fugue state, once again mindlessly parroting the voice in their head with a face totally void of cognition. "find celrys he's your father i suppose." Del monotoned just loud enough for the four of them. The corners of Ahmoa's smile dropped slightly. Mard's smile vanished entirely, feeling as though he'd been punched in the chest. OOC: @Morgan Yu @Snelly

IC: Gayle – Vulcanus Streets The huntress had been idling in Vulcanus for two days, waiting for parts to be delivered to the garage that was currently in the process of patching up her Cendox after her last mission. The Vorox tribe had decidedly not taken kindly to her traipsing through their territory and dragging off their leader. The trader who’d lost three caravans to their ambushes, on the other hand, had been appreciative enough to pay Gayle a little extra to help cover the repair bill for her vehicle. What her pay didn’t cover, however, was the time she was wasting wandering around town instead of heading out on another mission. At least, she’d thought she was wasting time until word suddenly came down that Raanu was putting together a mission to investigate the fate of Ferrum. Now, Gayle had a very lucrative reason to stick around. She set off into the city streets in search of the place to sign up. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ IC: Skrall – Roxtus Stables For a man who was said to have abandoned his allies to die, the disgraced warrior was putting up far more of a fight than Skrall had expected. With the shield coming to him in a way he very much didn’t want, he deactivated his implant and sprung to the side to avoid the charge… and then he backed away, still not reaching for his own weapons. For the first time in his life, Skrall didn’t know what he was supposed to do. His instincts and instructions were contradicting each other, and try as he might, he couldn’t find the middle ground. He was under attack. He was trained to kill attackers. But he’d been ordered to deliver this attacker to the Bone Hunters. And the Bone Hunters wouldn’t pay them anything for a corpse or a cripple. The Special Forces Skrall was ordering them to let the prisoner keep his shield. But the prisoner clearly couldn’t be transported safely until he was disarmed and restrained. Yet it was equally clear that he wasn’t going to surrender his shield and weapons without a fight. Skrall wasn’t strong enough on his own to overpower the prisoner, and his weapons were ill-suited to disabling him without also inflicting injury. So Skrall stayed back, content to let one of the others come up with a plan or make an attempt against the disgraced warrior. At least this way, if the goods were damaged it wouldn’t be his fault. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ @a goose @BULiK @oncertainty @Vezok's Friend @Burnmad @Toru Nui

IC: Well, wasn't this just great. Not only was he back here, here in the sweltering, bloated corpse of industry, not only was he escorting an angry sonofabitch who could break his neck without snapping a sweat, not only was he losing money with every passing second – sure, he had money already, but he would have had more – no, not only that, but he had also been kicked out of the ****** room. Hey Metus, you're really bringing down the vibe in here, so ****** off, would you? Oh, quite agreed, Mr. Crotchety Old Dickwipe I Only Just Met. Metus, go fetch us a coffee, you useless sack of sh- It wasn't a word-for-word recounting. So what? The old man couldn't have given it straight if he tried – and, from what Metus' little birdies had gleaned, it would certainly seem he never had – which left Metus himself, the glorious narrator of his own consciousness, to theatrically cast off the thick veil of subtext. All for your benefit, of course. You're ****** welcome, you ungrateful swine. Maybe you want to know what actually happened, he thought accusatorily, accosting the fictive audience of his own imagining. I bet you're just as bored as I am, sitting out here while all the interesting stuff goes on inside. Probably thinking I'm a pretty pointless protagonist, not even getting to go where the action is. Au contraire, my friend. See, everything that happens in there has already been decided. So maybe you miss out on the conversation itself – and even there I'm doing you a favour, unless you're really that eager to hear Raanu drone on, in which case you're frankly beyond saving – but the important part? That all happened earlier. And you can bet I was there, making sure it all went my way. * * * * * "This is not what was agreed." "It's what's happening." The two Agori stood just inside the gates of the Stronghold, next to Metus' Thornatus. Crucius hefted a sack almost as tall as he was onto the back of the vehicle, without once making eye contact. "And there was no agreement; you made a demand. He's refusing it." As the Bone Hunter moved to board the vehicle, Metus stepped into his way. "I'm taking on a lot of risk here, the least your boss could do is- Good Lords, what is that stench?" "A gift for Raanu. Call it a peace offering." The 'gift' in question smelled – describing it generously – like rancid, sun-dried roadkill, grilled to perfection and then left to char a couple days longer for good luck, or perhaps to smoke out those few maggots that hadn't already sprouted wings and ****** off. "I'm sure he'll be delighted," the Ice Agori rebuffed, his nostrils wrinkling in disgust. "We're not done talking about this." "Yes, we are. Now, are you going to move, or will I have to move you?" Crucius flexed the pistons in his forearm; Metus stood aside. "Wise choice." "Have I ever mentioned how much I admire your negotiating strategy? You really have an aptitude for-" "Just. Drive." * * * * * Past the window, the lava continued to flow, and Raanu stood still. Before him, bathed in the soft orange glow of the meeting chamber, was the dark wood table; beyond it, the man with the metal arm, and upon it, the body of the girl he had called his niece, still clad in her orange armour, now blackened by the fires into which Crucius had cast her. Suddenly, and more acutely than ever before, Raanu truly felt old. Here he stood, having outlived two generations of Somnii’s family. Here he stood, looking down upon her corpse. “Please, cover her up.” “Very well.” With surprising delicacy, Crucius laid the white sheet over her once again; her wrist still poked out from beneath, and Raanu took it gently in his hand. As he tucked it away, his expression was at first inscrutable, and then steel. Out of sight, out of mind – there was business to attend to. “I imagine Metus told you why I summoned you here.” “Just about. Though I have to admit, I’m not really sure what your expedition to Ferrum has to do with me.” “Ideally? Very little.” He looked Crucius directly in the eyes. The Bone Hunter did not flinch away. “Iron Canyon is dangerous enough to traverse already, especially with these rumours of plague. I want your guarantee that the scouting party will be allowed to pass without any altercations with your people.” Crucius raised an eyebrow. “If you mean my clan, then I swear on my honour that they will not interfere. But ‘my people’ are Gatherers – they don’t answer to me, only to their own clan leaders.” “What about the Ghost? Do they answer to him?” Crucius blinked, and then smiled with lips pulled taut as an elastic band. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. There's no such thing as ghosts.” Raanu returned the smile, though his own was far more relaxed. “Nevermind, then. My mistake. Still, I’m sure you can contact the other leaders on my behalf – it would be an awful shame were violence to break out in the canyon. People might begin jumping to conclusions.” “Such as?” “Well, they may find themselves wondering whether the Bone Hunters had something to do with whatever has befallen Ferrum and her Tribe. Since you seem so intent on preventing us from reaching them.” The elastic snapped back into a smirk. “You’re not nearly as foolish as Metus made you out to be. I’ll do my best, but there’s no guarantees the other clans will fall in line.” “That’s all I can ask.” On instinct, Raanu extended his hand to shake Crucius’; cold metal embraced it, and he could not stop his face from falling as he realised the Bone Hunter could now pulverise his bones with hardly a thought. Crucius recognised the expression, and chuckled darkly as he released the elder’s hand. “Be seeing you, Raanu.” Lords, I certainly hope not. * * * * * Once Metus and Crucius were gone, Ackar and a stenographer were summoned to Raanu’s meeting chamber. By sunfall, word had reached every major village: Vulcanus was calling for able-bodied Glatorian, to take the suicidal trek through Iron Canyon and discover Ferrum’s fate. If they survived, they would be well-compensated; in the likely event that they did not, their family would receive the reward in their stead. Interested parties had two days to reach the Fire Tribe village and sign on.

IC: Skyra Daring - Red Star Inn - "Hey, Skyra, long time!" Skyra's attention was quickly focused on her fellow Jungle Glatorian, "Oh hey, what's up?" There was two of them in fact, the girl definitely seemed familiar enough for Skyra to recognize, the male not as much. Either way it was curious how they were all suddenly so interested in coming over, the driver glanced at Del. Yeah it was definitely him they were really interested in, that was obvious. This had to do with Ferrum, no doubt. Skyra didn't have a huge amount of interest in it herself, but if Del was going to be her client... "I desire to leave." Well that settled it, Skyra gave a quick nod to Karak. It was getting too crowded, even for a social butterfly like herself. "I think the usual rate should be fine." Skyra suddenly said to both Del and the two Agori guardsmen. "Shall we get going?" @oncertainty @Morgan Yu @Toru Nui @Techn0geist

IC: Vyartha | The Iron Mahi's Second Passenger Compartment For a moment, there was nothing. And then, suddenly: the soft ting of contact of the roof, the subtle groaning of weight on a new piece of metal. Another and another, moving towards the edge of the carriage. I knew, then, that whoever was above was on the move once again. My blade didn't waver, merely followed the sound of movement. Had this interloper heard the soft padding of my footsteps all the way out there and was changing their trajectory? No, no, that couldn't have been it: I've been on carriages where I could barely hear myself think. To be outside of something moving this fast would nearly be debilitating. But then-- what were they after? OOC: @Krayzikk@oncertainty@a goose -Void

IC: Karak - Red Star Inn This quarry, there's more beyond the surface, I can tell - but for the moment, I care not. What does begin to set me off is the growing number of prying eyes. Leering, asking questions. Skyra's name is called - I've had enough. "I desire to leave." I speak quietly but without softness to Skyra. There is a storm gathering and I have no intention of being swept up - not when my goals lay so close. OOC: @Snelly@oncertainty @Techn0geist @Toru Nui

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables Skrall reacted immediately to the deserter's resistance. In the briefest of moments, the rope he had coiled over his arm was discarded, his feet working in concert with his brain to mark the location where the obstacle would come to rest, as they had marked the layout of the stable when they had first entered. He knew, intuitively, that the rope would now be a tripping hazard two paces to his left, just as he knew that the traitor could be reached - or could reach him - in one lunging step, just as he knew that Skrall was not going to be grounded by the traitor's attempt to throw him. Young as he looked, Magnet-Hands was not born yesterday. Before the rope touched the stable floor, Skrall's own blade flashed from its sheath, and he moved back two steps to place some distance between himself and the threat. The tip of his sword pointed threateningly at the deserter as he held it close in a guard position, all the while he strafed around to his left - stepping over the rope without needing to look - in the hopes of encircling the traitor-- and of distracting it as Skrall hefted a crate to bludgeon it with. @BULiK @Nato G @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Vezok's Friend

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables Skrall's brows raised. The prisoner had some fight in him yet. He was in the middle of carrying a crate of supplies to the carriage when the prisoner pulled the blade, but he hadn't moved in the scant moments since. He held the crate before him, suddenly conscious that his own blade was sheathed at his side, whereas his Thornax hurler was slung across his back and thus relatively inaccessible. He watched warily. The wiry one was speaking to the prisoner. Why was that? What was the use? Skrall could infer. The wiry one was Skrall, he knew how to fight in a group. If he was talking to a foe, it was to buy time for his comrades. Skrall had to make that time count. He drew in a breath, and then launched the crate in his hands towards the erstwhile prisoner with as much force and accuracy as he could muster. The moment the crate left his fingers, his hand was at his hip. He drew his khopesh, and set his feet in a fighting stance. OOC: @BULiK @Skrall

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables] When the soldier began to move for him at orders from special forces, the delinquent saw his options and chose the path of greatest resistance. He raised his hands in front of him, level with the ground. But as Skrall took hold of Skrall's right hand, Skrall's left hand was moving away. In fact, all of Skrall began to move in that split second from Skrall's grip finding purchase. His torso rotated counterclockwise as his entire body threw its force behind a punch towards the ground on his left. The sudden jerk to the left and down was meant to drive the latched-on Skrall off of his footing and into the dirt floor. Skrall's left hand reached the handle on his hip. It unsheathed the black blade of his shortsword and raised it to the ready. "No."

IC: Skyra Daring - Red Star Inn - Skyra smiled, for someone who could barely talk, Del was catching on pretty quick. The Jungle Glatorian nodded at his words. "Yup! We're gonna drive to Tajun and find Celrys. It's going to be fun I can tell." @oncertainty @Morgan Yu @Toru Nui @Techn0geist

IC: Skrall – Roxtus Stables It took a considerable amount of effort for Skrall to stop a derisive laugh from escaping him as the cloaked one spoke. The prisoner would be foolish to try to escape in a city filled with people who looked just like him? The only place in Bara Magna where he stood a chance of managing to blend in or getting lost in the crowd? Skrall didn't share the overconfidence that Tirveus and the cloaked one seemed to be plagued by. This disgraced warrior had abandoned his post. The companions he'd abandoned had perished. The Skrall as a civilisation had been routed by an impossible enemy and driven southward. Though he'd never admit it out loud, he understood the grim truth: the Skrall were not infallible, or unbeatable. Wary of potential struggle, he reached out to take the prisoner’s hands and hold them up to be tied. @Burnmad @BULiK ___________________________________________ IC: Somok – Precipere Village Somok’s journey back to his hut was far longer than the journey from it. Not only because he stopped to speak with Giltu, the head of the Agori guard who he’d sent the sentries to find earlier, but because it was uphill. The conversation with Giltu took only a few seconds; Somok ordered, Giltu obeyed, hurrying off to double the roster for guards stationed at the staircase leading to the canyon floor. But navigating the mild incline back to his hut was a cautious and laborious task, each step measured and careful, his staff assisting as a third support. He’d had a bad fall a few months ago and spent weeks enduring excruciating back pain afterwards. At his age even a simple slip could lead to serious injury. Still, he eventually made it back unscathed and sat down inside, to pore over reports from the day prior while he waited for Salwa and Xyde to return.

IC: Karmine Madoc - Shocking, ain’t it? That smell… I’m clutching at my dead comrade‘s corpse, plucking at a rusty coin stuck in the centre of her forehead. Her charred cadaver stinks, the blue and white of her body smudged with red and black. Great Spirit, how long has she been laid like this? The trauma wakes you up like saltwater in the face. You feel the blood on your tongue boil as you loosen gravity on yourself enough to float upward just enough to get off the ground - but you still feel your skin begin to fry like Mahi steak. The pain is delicious, colours burst into your head and your ears scream at you like some ****** up opera. Of course, in your gorgeous agony you’re unable to keep focus on keeping the Sentinel up, and the force pulling her up is now gone, violently. Keep yourself awake just a bit longer, mate. OOC: @Krayzikk @Perp @Tarn

IC: Surdo - Po-Wahi - The Iron Mahi (First Passenger Car) Surdo peeked over the seat at his Skakdi companion and the Lesterin woman he was conversing with, ignoring the fight happening behind him for a moment. “Baz! What are you two talking about over there?” He felt around the floor for his cane, optics still mostly on Baszlin. “These people are not our acquaintances, don’t just—” he flinched at a terrible noise, “—start giving her information! Are you listening?!” IC: Datrox Karvan - Po-Wahi - The Iron Mahi “Right,” Datrox replied. The itch had now spread through his entire arm, and he could feel his fingers move independently of eachother, impatiently grasping at air. “Wouldn’t want that.” A creak of metal, no doubt something the heisters were doing, gave Datrox what he hoped would be enough distraction to quickly launch his lightly-armored form past the Vortixx and over the seats next to him (a move that would have probably looked familiar to Minnorak, albeit with less effort), before leaping back into the aisle just behind him. Datrox was now in the next car proper. “You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve been on a train and this has happened. Funny, right?” His sword arm was finally satisfied as he drew his weapon, although he hadn’t taken on a combat stance just yet. He had to let the Vortixx make the first move, but first.. “You got a name?” OOC: @BULiK@Perp@Morgan Yu@oncertainty@Vezok's Friend@Nato G

IC/ Skrall/ Roxtus/ Stables/ The stables were easy enough to find, even if one didn’t know their way around. They just had to follow the smell and sounds. Skrall did know the way well however. She also knew the first leg of their journey, having spent quite some time outside Roxtus herself. The scout wasn’t the only one used to solitude, something she suspected he wouldn’t recognize them having in common. She waved down one of the beastmasters on duty. His implants were extensive and showed the dangers of the profession. Spikit bit the hand that fed them. Often enough they did worse. He eyed her and the other skrall filtering in wearily, but still waited for them to speak and make their request. Hearing skrall ask about carriage drivers, she interjected: “We’ll need two.” Plus rock steeds and enough supplies for both beast and skrall to complete the journey. That’d be a lot. She figured five days worth, but it could easily be more. Though it was unlikely they’d be completely unable to resupply along the way. The plan definitely called for it it at the bone hunter’s and in Atero…but there was no guarantee. If all went flawless, they could probably reach the mesa within a day or two and Atero within a day after that. Then a few more from there to Tajun. The keyword being flawless. But things had a tendency to go south when going south. Better to have reserves. So she turned to the scout again. She wouldn’t put up with any nonsense, but deferring to expertise was the smart thing to do. They had a job to do, so she asked: “How many days‘ provisions for us and the beasts, plus contingency?” OOC: @a goose@Nato G@Toru Nui@Burnmad@oncertainty@BULiK

IC: Lorqua - The Red Star Inn Following the line of Lutenus' outstreched finger, Lorqua could see the Glatorian too. Yellow-orange armour. The floor of the Inn was well-trafficked, but even with her unenhanced vision she could catch glimpses of the Ferrumite and a few others. Gathered about were a couple of Agori from a couple of different tribes, a Glatorian in pink and red that she definitely didn't recognize, and a green-and-black-armoured Glatorian who she thought she might. "Seems like they've gathered something of a crowd already. That's Skyra Daring, I think, can't get a perfect look from here. Of course, I imagine you already clocked that." She glanced at Lutenus' eyepiece, and chuckled reflexively. "I can't say I recognize any of the rest of them. I don't know if you were just planning to keep on looking, but as far as I'm concerned there's one good way to find out more." She slid out of the booth, rising to her feet. "Shall we?" OOC: @Toru Nui IC: Skrall - Roxtus, Towards the Stables Skrall liked rock steeds, he always had. Spikits, well, they could be temperamental. One had taken a chunk out of the back of his leg once, and he still had a small scar. Even so, he was happy to take the company of any animals over more interminable discussion. Still, he couldn't malign the older Skrall too much: the lone survivor had chosen to try and assert dominance before answering the question. The question which was, frankly, a completely natural one. Of course, he had heard the southerners were worse. By times, the south couldn't even decide who was meant to tell them what to do. They had conclaves or councils or some other sort of thing like that. The Skrall were not afraid to dispense with such barbaric tendencies. As they drew closer to the stables, a question of his own occurred to him. "Which one of us drives the carriage?" OOC: @a goose @BULiK @Burnmad @Nato G @Vezok's Friend @Toru Nui

GM IC: "Kohra," The Sergeant drawled slowly, tilting his head just a fraction of a degree. "Well that definitely sounds like our boys. Yes ma'am, I'd say I'm the help. First thing's first. You alright?" @Vezok's Friend *** "Very bad." The Lesterin agreed shakily. "Um, what's your name? If you can tell me. Might be... Be a little more comfortable, you know?" @Perp *** CRACK! CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! "Assault with intent," The Toa's voice might have quavered for just a moment, watching five metal diskettes bounce off of the shield before her. Each impact triggered a quick ripple across the invisible spherical surface, bright and shimmering. Whatever hesitation there might have been eroded quickly with each word filling up with energy and resolve. She was a Sentinel, there were standards to live up to! "No further warnings required per Article II. Surrender, or I will utilize whatever force required!" The Sentinel shook her wrist, loosening a length of fine linked chain threaded through with copper. She flicked it at Karmine, a small, dense weight at the end visible for just a second, and the chain shot forth like a striking serpent... And wrapped itself unerringly, impossibly, around the outstretched wrist and forearm that held Karmine's weapon. The links constricted painfully tight, an iron grip on the other Toa's arm. @Tarn@Morgan Yu OOC: Post for the rear of the train in a bit for you guys, @~Xemnas~and @BULiK. That'll take me a little longer.

IC/ Skrall/ Roxtus/ War Room/ Skrall noticed the scout’s eyes lingering on her. The other common reaction to her presence. She smirked, ever so slightly. She brushed past him and started heading toward the stables. As she did, she flashed him a look that said it all: Too busy staring to count? Raising her right hand, she signaled the rest of the team her intent to move out. OOC: @a goose @skrall

IC: Quoribay [Iron Mahi, ?th Car] I was so glad to be free from that little box, let me tell you. Finally, after the painstaking setup process, it was my time to shine. When Skrol gave me the secret signal, he began opening the secret compartment, pushing past the decoy fruits to reach the crate's lid. I took the liberty to grab a bula on my way out. One for the road, eh? I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, but superstition wasn't gonna stop me. I gracefully lowered myself to the floor, all daintily-like in case Skrol had made a massive ####up and the coasts weren't completely clear (true). While I had confidence in the plan... the shivers did give me a bit of a spook. If you recall, priority number one was figuring out just where the Karz I was. Situational awareness, they call it. OOC: @a goose@Krayzikk@~Xemnas~

IC: Baszlin - Iron Mahi The horrendous metallic screeching, followed momentarily by tinny thumping that slowly wound its way overhead… well, Baszlin didn’t have to be a sonics elemental to tell that the Vortixx Problem was still indeed just that. For now, there was nothing to do about it. The mind of a substance abuser was one whose logic was nigh impossible to fathom, beset by monomania and compulsion. He shrugged. Cross that bridge when they came to it. Besides, the inanimate cardboard had now learned to speak. Bizarre! He whipped around to locate the source of the new voice, scanning for a brief second before resolving the Lesterin in question - and it was indeed a real person now, not some lame facsimile. Her arms, trembling, in the air… A wave of familiarity washed over Baszlin. It wasn’t quite a memory, but he could smell it – the must of sweat, the iron stench of blood so thick you could taste it on your tongue without opening your mouth… He stared at those wrists, raised heavenward. It was like a snapshot out of a history book, something ancient that dredged up the sense of something base and primordial, but for one missing component. Manacles, metal bindings – those were missing from the wrists, accompanied by the reverberating metallic crinkle that could be produced by nothing else but a long length of chain, stretched taut. It was so clear in his mind, the iconography of suffering… and then it was gone. “Hmmm…” All that remained of that image was the pair of trembling arms belonging to the figure before him, terrified and exceedingly real. “Hm? Oh, yes, of course,” he said at last, voice low and soft. He gingerly took one of the arms in his hands, lowering it himself ever so gently. “You’ll get a cramp if you keep them up like that. Very bad on the shoulders.”

IC: Skyra Daring - Red Star Inn - "Del..." Skyra sounded it out, it wasn't a very long name, and Skyra appreciated that, made it easy to remember. "Nice name!" Skyra finally said cheerfully, completely relaxed in contrast to the two shocked Agori guardsmen. Skyra's attention was then drawn to the nervous Fire Agori who fumbled over his words a bit before quickly leaving. "Kay, bye...whoever you are." People were sure acting weird around Del, and Skyra couldn't really figure out why. @Techn0geist @Morgan Yu @Toru Nui

IC: Skrall - Roxtus, War Room Like an automaton, Skrall stepped forward and hauled once-Skrall to its feet, pushing it towards the exit of the room just softly enough that the pathetic creature did not lose its precarious footing. "Thy will be done!" He somehow managed to simultaneously shout and whisper the confirmation as he moved, not wishing to stay in Tirveus' presence one moment too long after having been dismissed. While he waited - it seemed an eternity - for the sack of flesh before him to make its egress, he looked to each of his peers in turn, as if to make sure that none of them were so paralyzed in fear as to need a similar push towards the door. OOC: @a goose @BULiK @Nato G @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Vezok's Friend

IC: Datrox Karvan - Po-Wahi - The Iron Mahi (First Passenger Car) Datrox smirked to himself as he walked away from Dolbren. He knew better. The other Toa was there for a reason. But their game was over, and he had made no attempt to impede Datrox which meant he knew something he didn’t. As long as he wasn’t getting in his way, or actively doing anything worth stopping, Datrox was content to leave him behind in the other car for now. Besides, he kind of liked the guy. As he crossed into the first passenger car, Datrox almost bumped into Minnorak. Attempting to peer over the Vortixx’s shoulder wasn’t much use given the height advantage he had, but from what Datrox could tell, Kohra was missing. The loud gust of wind coming from an open window told half the story. Datrox wasn’t going to assume the worst yet. And he was, at the very least, going to try his best to be very annoying to the people causing problems on the Mahi. Keep your friend out of trouble. Failed step one. Keep yourself out of trouble. “Pardon me,” he piped up to Minnorak, trying to gain his attention amid what was happening. “Are you the conductor?” Failed step two. OOC: @Vezok's Friend@Perp@oncertainty@Krayzikk Going by the layout Perp made for this one and putting Datrox already halfway into the other car. Can you believe he's been there for basically a whole year?

IC: Lorqua - Red Star Inn There was no question in her mind that going alone was more dangerous, she knew that as well as anyone. She wasn't thinking of going alone. Rather, the speed which the larger caravans would be going would be intolerable. If it could be avoided, by a braver driver perhaps. And such a person might be willing to pay for an experienced blade, like Lorqua, to provide protection on the trail. She began to interrupt him, "No I agree, I'm not thinking of travelling alone, just that—" And then she stopped short, as Lutenus' cybernetic eye focused past her, and he remarked on something she couldn't see. She turned around quickly, entirely insensible to propriety, and tried to see where he was looking. "What is it, what do you see?" OOC: @Toru Nui IC: Skrall - Roxtus War Room Skrall continued nodding vigorously. He was in complete agreement, and even if he wasn't, in this particular case he was happy to have other Skrall occupying Tirveus' attention. OOC: @ skrall

IC: Dornak and Lutenus (Atero, Red Star Inn) - I Spy, With My Robot Eye… “Very, very soon, I think - once the caravans start going. I don’t possess a vehicle of my own.” Well, in truth, he had been forbidden from operating his own vehicle following an incident several years ago - ‘a danger to himself and others,’ he believed the exact words were. It was time for Dornak to leave. He wasn’t wanted here, and he no longer wanted to be here. “Ah, I see I’ve upset you - I’ll leave, I’ll just-” He did indeed leave, powerwalking towards the exit. Lutenus noticed that Lorqua seemed a bit sceptical. “Personally, I believe going solo is more dangerous, given you’ll have no support if things do go wrong. It-” His attention was suddenly grabbed by a very nervous Fire Agori walking swiftly to the exit… And tracing his direction backwards, Lutenus spied an Iron Glatorian. “Hmmm…” The aperture of his cyber eye whirred as its telescopic zoom function activated, getting a closer look. “That’s interesting…” @oncertainty @Techn0geist @Snelly @Morgan Yu IC: Skrall (Roxtus, War Room) - You Can’t Fight in Here, This Is the War Room! Why was Leader Tirveus strangling Skrall? Had he failed or disgraced the Skrall? Not his place to question. @a goose @BULiK @Burnmad @Vezok's Friend @Nato G @oncertainty IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold, Outside Somnii’s Cell) - Feed Her and Water Her and DON’T Take Her Out for Walks… Taldrix would like to think that Crucius wouldn’t need her help with making a fool of himself, but in truth, she would have to admit that Crucius was no fool - and only a fool would endeavour to fail him. This meant making sure Somnii kept ticking, but that shouldn’t be a concern. Just throw scraps of food and bowls of water at her every once in a while, job’s done. She’d have to mark these scraps and bowls in her notes, of course. “I’ll keep her in prime condition, not to worry.” She then took out her notes, specifically the one she had on record for deceased Gatherers and their manner of death. “Alright… Tera… died during spice hunt… body not recovered… cause of death… let’s say…” Spice. Her fingers trembled a little, causing a little inkblot smudge on the parchment. “Uh, how does ‘failure to properly dismount Rock Steed’ sound?” @a goose IC: Xyde (Precipere, Guardhouse) - Hello, Floor “Can I have a few moments as well?” Xyde piped up. “I’ll need to, uh, do things.” Things like lie down in their bed and wallow for a minute or so. Though maybe not the bed, necessarily. The floor of the guardhouse was looking pretty inviting right about now. @Nato G @Geardirector

IC: ????? - Red Star Inn, Atero The Glatorian's gaze settled for a moment on the driver, Skyra. Expressionless as ever, but for once one could tell there was activity behind their eyes. Analysing scenario. Mard shrugged. "Not a clue, and you won't be getting much out of our friend either." Ahmoa. Mard. Skyra Daring. Celrys. Designations. Names. "You know anything about it we don't?" The Jungle guard pressed, leaning towards the Agori as he shuffled away. Name. Function of identity. A firm red hand rested on Mard's green shoulder, Ahmoa intervening. "Is everything alright, chaps?" Identity. Function of self. "Buddy here's asking about Ferrum." He again turned to the inquisitive Agori. "What's it to ya anyway?" Self. "He's likely just curious about the goings-on there, same as anyone." the crimson guard rationalised, trying to reel his partner in. I love you, Del. "He's right though, it is a sensitive subject," Mard protested, shrugging Ahmoa's hand off and glaring angrily at the anxious Agori. "If our friend's like this because of what's going on in Ferrum, if they're traumatised-" "i love you del." The guardmen's heads snapped towards the Iron Tribal, now looking down and through the gathered group. Synapses long unfired began to glow like a bed of embers. "i..." The Glatorian looked up again, around at everyone. "...Del." Their voice was quiet, but had never sounded more certain of anything. Slowly they raised their hand, extending their finger and turning it up to their face. "Del. I." OOC: @Snelly @Toru Nui

IC: Skrall - Roxtus, War Room Skrall stood there casually, attempting to conceal the mixture of elation and fear he felt that the female was doing the talking. Elation, because for even the most well-spoken Skrall with the most justification, having to speak to a superior so far above him as Tirveus was like navigating a skopio nest while reeking of raw meat. Fear, because even Tirveus knew the terror of interacting with females, and the risk having to witness the Skrallic Imperator squirm like the comparatively tiny Skrall he was even now absentmindedly choking against the wall was far more dangerous than merely having to speak to him. Still, Skrall did not himself squirm. Controlling one's squirm reflex was integral to surviving among the Skrall, as squirming was a display of weakness, and thus only advisable in the occasional circumstance that your superior wished to see you squirm, which they typically made clear through a variety of nonverbal markers. In those circumstances, you wanted to squirm out of respect for your interlocutor's attempts to make you squirm. In the absence of such markers, however, neglecting to squirm was a reassurance that all was well; that there was no reason for anyone to be squirming. This circumstance was clearly an instance of the latter case. And so Skrall was very careful not to squirm, and he hoped in the pit of his churning stomach that Tirveus similarly repressed his squirm reflex. It was, he reasoned, a ******-shoot. After all, when one occupied a position such as Tirveus', most of the consequences of squirming were felt by the people who saw you squirming, and so, depending on his mood, Tirveus could squirm as he liked.

IC: Skrall - Roxtus (War Room) Skrall opted to keep his mouth firmly shut, content to let his newfound companions do the talking for now. He'd already made a fool of himself once today trying to speak on matters he didn't fully understand, and he had no desire to earn Tirveus' ire and become the Leader's newest chewtoy.