They

Consult staff first. Always. I've found my schemes go awry less often when met with the approval of staff beforehand.

Dastan, welcome to the community of role-players in the BZPRPG. If you have any game-related questions regarding rules or player creation, please direct your eye to the NEW PLAYER topic, RULES topic, and CHARACTER PROFILES topic for a more than lengthy answer to almost any FAQ. Feel free to send me a PM if you've got any more questions, or jump right to the staff; they don't bite, generally speaking, and are by far the best source for rules and regulations on any subject. Yes, trying would be the right thing for those who oppose the darkness. However, in war like the kind we're facing here, there's a moment when an enemy is routed: they turn and run, trying to keep themselves alive and falling out of rank. This generally ends in a bloodbath. In sieges, an opposing force commonly pillages the place for days or weeks after breaking through defenses. Guards would know this information, and the mad grab to get the villagers to safety before the village falls and becomes a massacre is perhaps the most honorable thing to do at this time. The village may fall, but its people and culture will remain.

OOC: Okay, I was trying to write something nice and long and juicy, and I just gave up. Free-writing this in the next twenty minutes tops... Interaction is better than stagnation. Keep the momentum! IC: Ishi Polzin "Look at you trying to piece things together, it's almost endearing; but I already told you where we're headed, and now it's just a race across a village filled with homicidal maniacs -- what fun!" Ishi wore a roguish grin as he sauntered off, letting the words sit in the air like a slap from a wet towel. Dervish stood momentarily stunned, and watched him lean out the door to check the street, then followed after the cockiest po-matoran known to Karzhani. Ishi moved with a practiced direction through the maze of stairs, interlocking homes carved inside the glacier, and spindly bridges. Ko-Koro was a lover of more than one night for the Informant, and his time spent learning the alley shortcuts during the village's lock-down proved invaluable at avoiding the destruction waged by forces of the Mangaia Pact. Once, on a foot-wide bridge across a dizzying fissure, Ishi dared to look at the chaos. The Western wind carried the sound of the dying, and the clamor of religious fanaticism. In the streets below, nearly specks from his vantage point, the Brotherhood of Ak'rei'an were filing in from the breach in the gate; and further into the village small pockets of guards valiantly took their last breaths defending the throng of villagers funneling through the small gate toward the hospital. The corpses littering the streets and bridges of the glacier village were crops in drought: wilted, slumped to one side, and motionless. Break the virtues, bring the darkness. Take secrets, leave chaos. Ishi smiled as his blood turned hot at the euphoria of reveling in his life's purpose. "Everything's perfect, Dervish. We've got all the chaos a god of darkness could desire boiling the ice beneath our feet. No one's going to notice a couple of shorties amid this..." he continued across the bridge and out of the dangerous, howling wind, "this revolution of principles. The world is changing; the old is giving birth to the new with rivers of blood, like always. Anything we create requires destruction: food, cities, even stories... the abstract concept has to die for the reality to exist, see? No? Well, no matter..." Ishi's words faded into silence punctuated by puffs of hot breath. Cold, and feeling the weather in the stubs of his fingers, his teeth chattered madly by the time they reached Ambage's apartment. The assumed guards outside the front door were absent, called into the thick of the assault by a sense of duty to protect the living rather than a, hopefully, empty apartment. If Ambages was home things would be horribly different, and Ishi, for once in his life, didn't want different: he wanted silent success. "Dervish, you go first and stake out the building. If there's any traps, well... try not to set them off." Ishi whispered. "I'll get the door once the coast is clear."

I've killed off several of my own characters in ever so macabre ways. I'm struggling to remember a single PC vs PC kill, at least for this incarnation of the BZPRPG. (Go Fraashion... go Fraashion!)

The Lego Group just keeps upping the ante! I've been sitting with my eyes glued to the computer screen all weekend -- thanks BZP for the awesome NYCC coverage -- and each day just gets bigger and better. I half expect them to roll out a soundtrack, t-shirts, and a concept art book now! (Actually, if they did a concept art book I'd be first in line.) Totally getting in on this!

1.) Sana is the most common game term for the mask of Healing, although it is not TLG Canon. Again, as have been said before, we do not run on TLG canon for a large portion of things. 2.) Riaril regrew Emotia's spinal column and some internal organs after the fall of the Ta-Koro Guard Hospital by using additional biomass from a dead rahi. She passed out after the work, completely drained, and didn't wake up for a day. We have to remember Riaril was a trauma medic, a first responder, and incredibly proficient in her healing abilities. As for specifically re-attaching a limb, I'm sure if the character had proficient enough ability with their kanohi it would be possible, but don't forget the toll. 3.) It's been done in-game, not by myself though. With Riaril she actually gets wounded by healing others these days.

I don't know if this has been said yet, but there's a matoran of stone who goes by Ahkmou in the RPG. He's not actually Ahkmou, but he can sure pull it off. Remember everyone, lying can happen.

I already asked some higher ups. Apparently it's gonna do absolutely nothing.

Tyler said a mile. That's about what I stated a few pages back as well, although I was giving it in time duration I think... The point is the NMRH is, as a few posts have pointed out along with a wiki page, not in direct view of the village.

Care to PM me a tactical summary? I'd like to introduce some characters there soon, and I kinda don't want to sieve through eight pages. I will once I stop feeling like I've been attacked by a mind flayer. Actually, I may just update the wiki so everyone gets the bonus. HEY PEEPS: who actually uses the wiki?

And then we end up on Okoto?

Just finished reading eight pages of Ko-Wahi topic. So much flagrant over-use of EE and powers it's making me confuzzled. I think I need a cup of tea and a book about the real world for a bit. Maybe a book about dental radiographs? yes... that sounds lovely... All joking aside though, it seems most players are writing some heavy attacks.

According to Nuju in a PM discussion a few months back Dashi were unable to access ideatalk, or at least not project their own.

IC: 'Ahkmou' "Sounds like an average day in the life," Ishi commented about his companion's near death venture. "There's not a moment the past few weeks I haven't been dangling by a thread... I'm no tightrope walker, but if the wind up high is anything like the buffering of action and consequence down here in mortality land I'm sure I'd be ace. Ambages, hrm," Ishi paused for both thought and to swallow the end of the bread sticks. Having something to eat brought a clearer sense of focus to his thinking, where before it had been smart at best things were once again escalating toward genius. "He's a pretty widget and thinks fast I'll give him that, but I doubt his house would be any more guarded than what the right hand of an assassinated island leader would have under normal circumstances of heightened tension during intermediary ruling of his own. "That is to say we're probably going into a place armed to the teeth with roaches. Feel up for a little pest control?" Ishi had a wry smile. "With luck the largest portion will be off putting out... well... not fires probably but stamping out something like their punitive lives if they encounter any of the attackers in the streets. Ambages will play it smart and evacuate, I doubt a man who believes his life is worth something would stick around during all of," he gestured vaguely toward the window, "this." Ishi paused the spinning of the potter's wheel with a well placed toe. The cyclical motion had created a soft buzz and the sudden silence pleased him. He clearly heard the destruction outside moving closer with every cold breath exiting his lungs as hot vapor. Ishi Polzin was working without clear blueprint, lacking the subtlety of a more skilled wet-worker, delving into the danger with insufficient geographical information and opposition of unknown number. The matoran of stone couldn't help but love the idea. It was his way, after all. The thought of Dervish tearing through a small platoon of guards brought a feverish glee, and then the true reason surfaced in his mind, like a fish in a pond begging to be fed with each approaching looker: the komau. Ahkmou's journal spoke once of Ambages. Once, and only once. Ishi remembered the encrypted words, their true meaning burned into his mind as if with a hot brand; The atheist came tonight, not surprising given Onewa’s now sealed in stone. We are different sides of the same coin, and he is an enemy I would keep the closest. His name is strange, but it seems to fit his modus operandi. I can’t help wondering if it was really given at birth or taken by some indirect means of deception. Although I may regret my decision, I gave it to him. The Po-Koro guard will be sure to check my hut before any other, and I can’t have it compromising my situation with Him. I’m sure he’ll find a way to ambage the rise of Makuta. I’ll have to speak with him soon.* It hadn't taken much work or outside delving, although the trip to the archives of the Mata-Nui Daily was the linchpin of Ishi's deduction. The final question was where Ambages kept such a precious object. Something so valuable would naturally be kept close, where it could be monitored and be readily at hand should the need arise. What purposes Ambages might devise with its use made a shudder run up the Informant's spine; of pleasure or fear he couldn't say. If the komau was close to hand, it must be safe, and what was a safer place than the very place searched by the Island Liberation Front and found to be without evil? Yes, Ishi had realized during his travels and escape from Ryiu Polzin and a meeting with his sister, the komau was located in Ambages' mansion. Of course, it was a mansion, and any portrait or loose stone could hide a secret safe. With luck, it'd be in the places Ambages most frequented: bedroom, hallway, solar, office, privy. The soft boom of snow in great quantity falling brought Ishi from his thoughts. One of the houses near the opening of the muse was beginning to sag, parts of its roof caving inward. "I think... I think it's time we move. From here we need to take the bridge to the left, cross the chasm to the inner koro. I take it the main bridge is destroyed?" He pulled away from the window, letting his eyes gaze across the toa's face. She was pretty, but hidden away behind the armor. A double protection, then. Ishi couldn't help but wonder if someday he could exploit more than just her talents in combat. Subterfuge and intelligence weren't her specialties, but with a little training... Yes, with a little training she'd do quite nicely. _____ *This passage from Ahkmou's Journal is retrieved and pasted from an earlier post where Ishi gained this information. It can be viewed in full on the wiki via this LINK.

I think a set-based contest would be lovely. I've not seen any rule systems besides the one I created earlier this year.

For those on the last page talking about what the nuju Marion hospital may or may not have, please check the wiki. Plenty of information is already fully established. Also, Palm, I think I just blushed. You reminded me of my four paragraph introduction back in 2010... oh to be so naive again. Seriously though, practice is the key. Practice and passion. EDIT: well well, Stannis is up for grabs eh? *pops knuckles*

The morgue is in the basement, yes. However, Riaril (when she was under my control), enjoyed keeping a few specimens in the lab for her midnight studies.

OOC: The pastries return... IC: 'Ahkmou,' Ko-Koro (with Dervish in abandoned civilian quarter) Ishi finished her sentence as his foot kicked the door close. "Different? Oddly off-hue for a po-matoran? Excellent deduction Detective Dervish, but we've got more important things to worry about. Let's start by not getting blown to pieces or turned into zombies. "I knew as much about the gate getting here, but the Citadel already being breached is a different matter. I'll assume that's Echelon's rowdy crew of war mongers, but you sound like you were there? Anything else you can add to my picture of the situation? I saw the NM Hospital on the way in, and the Academy seems like its boarding up the gates and getting ready for a siege." His eyes scanned the interior of the dwelling, the sack of equipment dumped on the prominent dining table, the only item of wood in the home. It was standard architecture, square lines and little decoration all carved out of the glacier's ice. Pulling back the curtain along one wall revealed an empty bed of furs and an oil lamp hung on the wall by an iron spike. The small box in the corner of what served as a humble kitchen contained a tiny heat-stone, keeping foodstuffs from freezing. Ishi greedily helped himself to the closest thing resembling food: a bag of bread sticks. After a day without food in the Dark Walk the taste was of little concern. They were stale and the interior cheese tasted near the point of going from delicacy to rotten, but they brought back memories of Ventra and his conversation in Forsi's tavern. It was amazing how many months the plans had stewed, how long his thumb on Hewkii had remained pressed without release, how true his words still were. While the war outside raged on he stood freezing in an abandoned home eating someone's leftovers... “What the karz are you doing here,” Ishi Polzin hissed as he pushed his head under the curtain. The Ta-Matoran nearly dropped her drink, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him inside the safety of the concealing fabric with a killing glare. “Not so loud,” Ventra whispered back, her eyes flickering toward the singers and sailors beyond the curtain. “And since when do I have to justify getting a drink? You like karzahni, by the way. What happened to you coat?” “I tripped. And are you going to let go of my hand or...” The informant released as if she had been holding a wood stove. “Business. Waiting for someone.” “Well, I hate to say I didn’t get the memo, again.” “The island doesn’t revolve around you Hapaka,” she retorted. “He was supposed to be on the train today.” Ishi slid the drawstring bag off his shoulder, pushing it between the wooden booth and the stone wall. “He? Did he, uh, happen to be a Ta-Matoran like yourself?” Ventra coughed on her drink, spluttering as an ice cube slid down her throat. “Why for all the money in the Gentry would I tell you?” “Well, because a certain someone might want to know why there’s a Ta-matoran laying in the Motara Desert about 150 miles from here.” The glass slowly returned to the table with an uncomfortable silence. Ishi ignored the building tension and fiddled with a breadstick. Taking a bite, the tiny matoran nodded happily as Mahi feta melted into his mouth. “Mmm, they got the filling inside. Yum.” “You killed my contact?” “Hey,” He reproached, stuffed bread stick pointed at Ventra’s chest; “he came at me first. Pulled a knife and tried to slice my jugular right open. Would have been a nasty mess all over the compartment. You should be happy I’m still here.” Ishi leaned back into the booth, taking another bite from his stolen blob of baked wheat. “I would be happy if my contact was sitting here instead of soaking the sands with his blood like soap on a sponge. You may not realize this, but this line of work is not a game. You can’t waltz about as if you’re some omnipotent Great Spirit when you’re -- for Mata-Nui’s sake eat the stupid breadstick or put it down already -- when you’re not. You’re a nobody, Hapaka. A nobody. When you wear your rose, you alter the destiny of this island from the shadows. Who we are, who we work for --” Ventra stopped, emotion turning her words to furious tears. Straightening her back, she wiped away what crawled across her kanohi and continued. “How’d you kill him, huh? With a Patero Launcher, or did you just shove him off the train the moment he said hello?” “With his own knife... Actually." “Why am I not surprised,” Ventra barbed. She rolled her eyes and gave a long sigh. “You killed Poku with his own gun, and now my contact with his own knife. Is it some sick hobby you have or something? I mean, really?” “I’m unarmed. I simply use my enemy’s strength as their weakness. And it’s not like I wanted to kill those men,” Ishi countered, elbows resting on the table while he leaned inward to speak with quiet force, dark coat rustling into position. “I killed them because I like living. Got it? Hapaka likes to live just as much as Poku or any other Jack I’ve offed.” “Jack?” “Generalization,” Ishi admitted with an animated hand; “there’s been a few Jills. You’re right though, this is for real. But real people play games Ventra, they just get into bigger ones as they pretend to grow up. We are altering the destiny of this island. Every rose bearer, every guard, every Makuta worshipping sand snipe that’s burrowed themselves bottom up to hide from the apocalypse that is their lost god. We all affect the course of destiny. I just want to see what the end looks like so I know if all the time I’ve spent playing is worth my eternity in karzhani when I finally kick the bucket.” He paused, glaring at Ventra as she stared back in shock. “I’ve been in this game longer than you. Spies come and go. Toa come and go. Karz, even Makuta comes and goes, well one go after a lot of coming, but Hapaka outlasts them. He exists because destiny continues to push new fools into the fray, and the fray is where you’ll find me. I enjoy the big game we play, but in the end I want to win.” There were no sounds from up the stairwell, but Ishi led the way after his brief snack in silent reminiscence. He brought the coat-wrapped bundle with him, along with the rest of the gear. It was a Potter's studio, with a halfway decent view of the courtyard below. A potter's wheel slowly spinning was the only sign of the matoran who only recently fled the fray. How long Ishi and Dervish were be safe from the tide of carnage the Informant couldn't say. "I told you I'd the makings of a plan after Alloy gave his great martyr speech. I said I'd get us out of this alive. Well..." He paused, letting his arms open wide and giving a little shrug for flair; "this is it. The plan starts with visiting Ambages the architect. I doubt he's home at this hour or in this chaos, but that's only going to make our lives easier. Let's just say I have a certain interest in seeing his house without him present, now... while the rest of the village is being ripped to pieces. You in?" Or should I just kill you now? The words hung in the air unspoken as he gazed at the mercenary.

As an answer what I have to say for the collective of reporters is that life has gotten the best of us. We no longer have time to consistently monitor and bring on a weekly basis the quality of news we have in the past. It may be moving to an every other week or even monthly occurrence. Everything is still up in the air.

You know, this discussion sounds a lot like a beginning class on debate. Stop changing your position, shifting your ideas, or otherwise attempting to make things work. You're not a lobbyist, you're a player in the BZPRPG. The limited palate in this game is to help promote creativity: you have to work within the boundaries. Yes, having a shark as a war-toy is bloody awesome, I'll give you that. However, could you please take the details of its feeding schedule to PM? Thank you!

IC: 'Ahkmou', alleyway in Ko-Koro The matoran turned swiftly as the toa popped into existence, his speed belying the weight of the gear he carried. The alleyway between the glacier cliff faces had barely enough room for the two to pass; it was nearly a muse and having his name echo softly in it was disconcerting. The voice was recognizable and instead of firing the patero launcher and wasting another round of limited munitions he lowered the barrel and sighed. The small toa of electricity looked like she'd been through a fight or two already. A few bumps and scratches dotted her body, but otherwise nothing serious. In the city chaos Ishi imagined a number of situations, all of them bad. Hopefully Dervish hadn't taken a side publicly yet. "It was the coat, wasn't it," Ishi commented slowly, referencing the mangled garment he now used as a makeshift bundle for carrying some of his more recent acquisitions. It was held on his right shoulder, and the weight seemed to pull him off-balance as he stood. "Makes no matter, you found me and that's all. I see you didn't wait at the Academy." Like I'd told you to lingered unspoken. He glared at her, then softened his mood and started hustling down the alleyway until they broke into a small courtyard surrounded by huts carved into the icy walls. No one was around. "Inside, go." Ishi pointed with the patero toward the nearest building, a small two-story of modest accommodation if the lack of window-shutters were anything to judge by. "What's the situation so far?"

Kavala had a host of NPC tarakava he'd been feeding in Kumu-Islets and could control when the Marines and Lohkar's crew arrived during the Lighthouse Expedition.

Agrona has a horde of vicious little insects. That's with staff approval though. I like your question! I'm curious to know the answer as well, although my personal thought would be: "use common sense regarding NPCs".

For anyone wondering how the Academy, the hospital, and Ko-Koro are all linked, please see my post here.

OOC: From Kini-Nui IC: 'Ahkmou', Ko-Koro via Dark Walk The wind of Ko-Wahi was a free spirit, young and fresh from the Western Sea, and unused to carrying the sounds of war. The battle cries, the clashing steel, the cracking of long-frozen ice; it had not carried such horror since the darkest days of Makuta's reign. And wind, the most fickle of elements, did not like its burden. It tried to cast off the sounds by throwing them at the mountains, but all it achieved was horrible echoes. The cacophony shuddered the snows to the North, and in a few places the ancient mountains retaliated as they always had with an avalanche. The silence of the falling snow and rock made the winds happy: here was the peace and fickle truth of life, where nature was always in motion, always finding resolution to the barbarism of the two-legged plague infesting it. Ishi Polzin ascended into the biting wind quick as his tired dikapi would allow. Exiting the Dark Walk he blinked and Urugi shook its avian head. The light was nearly blinding. They'd made it safely through the vile tunnels alone and unguarded. Ishi couldn't say the same for the second dikapi that'd been with them. The bird was for transporting cargo, but it fell down a ravine in a sudden ambush by rahi and left Ishi without food or water for a day. Alone and in the dark, Ishi and Urugi had formed a certain bond of fellowship forged through fear of the unknown. He reached down and gave the bird a pat on its metallic neck, felt where the feathers grew from the inorganic plates. "We made it... Almost," Ishi Polzin said, then squaring his shoulders gave a flick of the reins and the two set off into the snows. Between the Dark Walk and the City of Winter was a small rise. They made slow progress. The dikapi was a desert bird, and its feet sank deeper into the snows than it would if the landscape had been dunes. Ishi shivered, missing the mangled coat of lava-eel scales tied in a bundle on the back of the saddle. At the top the matoran of stone looked down at the origin of the sounds he'd heard echoing in the tunnels and tearing across the winds from the West. His markedly strange eye followed the trail of destruction from the bloodied field in front of the glacier village to the gates, pieces of metal from the twisted remains dotting the landscape from where they'd flown outwards as if by an explosion. From there he could trace the debris into the city a small way, and then it vanished into the glacier. However, the powder of snow drifting from above the village was testament to the great conflict within. He sighed, realizing the timing had been perfect. Somehow, his misadventures with Joske Nimil had placed him at the ending line of the conflict, as a scavenger rather than a fighter. Ishi Polzin enjoyed the increased change of survival it brought. "And the secrets must be high as the corpses" There was still a fight at the gates, although the Informant could easily tell the defenders were outmatched by the Brotherhood of Ak'rei'an, pulling back to try and save what parts of the village they could. Taking the main gate was still a dangerous route, but Ishi knew another way. With a pull of the reins they set off at a jaunt down the right side of the slope, careful to not stray near the fighting in case someone with exceptionally keen eyes decided to set their blood lust on him. He kept right, taking another rise until the village was out of sight. Despite his inability to see he could still hear the echoes. They cut through a valley, and then climbed the mountain as snow began to fall, at first fleeting, but by the time they reached his goal the white fluff was nearly blinding and he saw a spear before he saw hope. "Halt! Name and purpose!" Came the voice quickly attached to a standing ko-matoran guard, Sanctum shield and spear the apparent weapons. His voice was filled with the fear and uncertainty of someone stationed away from a conflict and without clear orders. Ishi Polzin leaned down in his saddle, letting the guard get a good view of his kaukau and one of his mutilated hands. "I'm trying to get to the hospital. I heard there was a doctor who could help with this sort of thing that resides there." The guard paused, eyes narrowing as he judged the situation, than lowered his spear. "You came at a bad time then, but yes, Dr. Gabel is supposed to be good with restoring limbs. Take the Academy path, just ahead. It'll be safer to be in the complex, where guards can watch you. I'm sorry, but this is a state of emergency; we're not taking any chances." Ishi nodded slowly and sent Urugi forward, the bird trotting underneath a great arch three times their combined height. The Nuju-Marion Research Academy and Hospital was built as a tiered bastion for education and health, taking up two steppes on the mountainside. The lower was occupied by the Academy, its squared walls surrounding the inner classrooms and library. A great bell tower pierced the afternoon with the mournful sounds of alarm. They crossed the courtyard slowly, and the guards raced about the open space, carrying objects usable for sealing and bracing the main gate. Chance or luck? Ishi wondered and dismounted, leading Urugi the rest of the way on foot. Connecting the academy to the hospital was a wide stairway paved with the same hexagonal flagstones as the rest of the complex. It wound up the plateau to an underpass that exited at another smaller courtyard. A small squad of guardsmen rushed past, their armor clattering in the cold, and went in the direction of the hospital's main door. Ishi let them pass, taking a few moments to rub his gnarled stubs against his mount's ribs, hoping to remove the dull ache. Cold, he'd learned, was a terrible thing for scars. He looked back down the stairwell and through the circular underpass he'd just come from and could barely make out the bell tower below. The snow was beginning to lessen, and that was a bad sign. Immediate action became necessary. Ishi Polzin ran quickly across the courtyard, glad the commotion inside the hospital drew the general attention. There was the sound of crashing, but the falling snows dampened the echoes. With luck his own footsteps would be nothing more than ambient sound. He found the entrance to the side tunnel quick enough: he'd taken it twice already after all and the disguised bit of wall hiding it from general view was practically a red flag to him now. Inside were a pair of guards, their heated conversation broken at his arrival. "Who-" the first one began, but Ishi was already in action and bull-rushing. Up close, where he could position his hands and cast a shadow on the guard's torso, he concentrated and a lance of darkness punched through their chest. His left hand clasped around the guard's mouth, stopping the scream while slamming the lower jaw back into the throat. The next guard was dispatched by ducking under the spear thrust from behind, performing a pivot, and bringing a black blade across her from mid-section to forehead. Ishi Polzin caught the dead woman's fall in his arms, carefully eased her to the ground, and took a deep breath. Then scrounged for what he could use. The first thing he took was the man's patero launcher and ammunition, followed by a few widgets, a shield, a bottle of distilled liquor, and then a page from the woman's log book. Reaching into his bag he rummaged around and found the final touch: a match. Sufficiently armed he padded down the tunnel until the gate was in sight. A group of guards were staring at him through the bars as he approached, their faces already set in the hard lines of combat readiness. "I hope you're thirsty!" Ishi cried as he lit the match, ducking and weaving as the first salvo burst toward him and rattled against the stolen shield. He hunkered down, slamming the circular defense into the hard snow of the tunnel between the floor and the wall and crouching behind it as he brought the match and hastily contrived explosive together. The paper caught the small flame, started to curl and burn. The first salvo ended and Ishi popped up on a knee, took quick aim, and threw. The fire did its job. What didn't die, ran to put out the burns. Urugi hadn't fared as well. The bird was bleeding and its wing was broken, and Ishi finished what the guards had started with a quick swipe of his shadowy powers. Shouldering the bag from behind the saddle he cranked the lever for the portcullis by kicking it in slow circles, than rushed through before it slammed closed again. Before he could get a firm grip of the situation a guard tackled him to the ground, a swift blow to the temple with the butt of a spear making his eyes water behind his kaukau. Somehow, his vision didn't fade to black. "You piece of dung!" The guard cried out, spun the handle around and thrust. The blade pierced into the snow to the side of Ishi's moved head as a patero launcher's grape shot pounded at point blank range into the guard's chest. "Sorry, I was just born this way," Ishi commented as the guard died. Shoving the corpse off his body he spun up on a knee, ready to face the next threat. There wasn't one. "Finally something goes according to plan." With the weight of his stolen gear and the bundle on his back Ishi trudged into the village, sticking to the alleyways and following the trail of scared villagers whenever possible. Nightfall's goal was the Citadel, but Ishi had other plans while the city of Ice fell to darkness. As the theological war was carried out with death and destruction Ishi planned to visit a third party in the discussion of the gods. He was off to visit an atheist. OOC: Norik, feel free to have Dervish spot Ishi, although I'm sure he looks quite different from the last time she saw him.