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Nato G

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About Nato G

  • Birthday 04/02/1997

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    Reading and writing stories, PC gaming, movies, tv shows, all things Roosterteeth, and of course, Bionicle, the greatest story of my childhood - and indeed, of all time.

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Mata Nui Rises

Mata Nui Rises (291/293)

  1. You mean the same James Gunn behind some of the most beloved movies in the MCU? And the only good content DC has put out in years? There's a reason DC rushed to snatch him up when Disney temporarily kicked him out. And why he got put in charge of DC in the first place. The DC universe is such a jumbled tonal mess right now because it rushed too hard, too fast, to compete with the MCU. It's in desperate need of exactly the kind of reboot/reset Gunn seems to be planning. Strong disagree. The Spider-Verse movies are fantastic, on so many levels. And honestly I don't think Sony has done anything super egregious as a whole. They unfortunately ran Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man into the ground by trying too quickly to launch a cinematic universe (much like DC did), but they at least learned from their mistake and decided to work with Marvel instead of competing against them with Tom Holland's Spider-Man. And Far From Home definitely felt like an apology for that mistake in a lot of ways. I think the Venom movies are perfectly fine for what they are (dumb, fun popcorn flicks), making Morbius the only really massive misstep Sony have made so far. Marvel (arguably) and DC (inarguably) have had even bigger flops in the past, and both have demonstrated that it's possible to reinvent/refresh a franchise or character after a poorly-recieved instalment (eg. Thor Ragnarok for Marvel, or The Suicide Squad for DC). While I'm certainly dubious of some of the upcoming stuff they reportedly have planned, I'll wait and see how it all pans out before passing judgement. At the end of the day, Sony is a studio that wants to make money off their IP. I believe legally they have to make movies every few years to retain those rights. Unless Marvel offers them a truly stupid amount of money to get back those rights, the situation is unlikely to change for the time being. EDIT: Forgot to respond to the actual main question of the thread. After G2 ended stepped away from Lego and got back into my other collecting hobby, Mega Bloks/Construx (I know it's tantamount to treason to admit to this on a Lego forum, but whatever). Mainly their more modern Halo and Assassin's Creed stuff, but occasionally I've picked up some of their old Dragons and Pyrates stuff, as those were the themes that originally got me into the brand back in the early 2000's. I do a lot of custom figures and webcomics over on the MCX Gallery, even to this day. I follow a lot of the typical "nerdy" franchises - the MCU, Star Wars, Doctor Who, etc. I also started playing D&D with some friends from this site, and later started running a campaign for another group of friends. Similar to Master Inika, my main focus has been in personal writing. I've had a pretty consistent presence on the Bionicle RPG forums on this site, my university degree was writing-related, and my current job is with a local newspaper. I tried working on a Bionicle fanfic on this site back in 2014, but I was in university at the time and I ended up dropping it to focus on my studies. I've also finished a few novel drafts and sent them to publishers since finishing uni, but haven't had any success so far. Currently I'm taking a break from novels to work on a new, major Bionicle fanfic (currently over 120,000 words), but I'm trying to actually finish it before I start posting anything, since I've had an awful habit in the past of starting stories and not finishing them.
  2. IC: Vir Yet – The Madrigal Claws clacked against the floor of the cold corridor as Vir stalked towards the hangar. Her pace was brisk, but still a far cry from what she would consider running. There was no need to rush. The more quickly she got there the more time she’d have to spend getting side-eyed by Spartans who probably thought her no different to the Kig-Yar they were getting ready to kill. She didn’t blame them. Humanity had earned the right to their rage, and Vir’s allegiance alone was never going to be enough to dissuade them from their distrust. The mere fact that the Madrigal was about to engage two Makar’s full of Kig-Yar pirates was enough to reinforce several unsavoury stereotypes about the species. Her left shield, then her right, flared into existence as she fitted her bracers onto her arms, eying the wavelength of each energy field to ensure they were functioning properly, before switching them back off. Her needler and rifle were already loaded and ready, holstered at her hip and on her back respectively. Her helmet was tucked under her arm, all systems checked and functional. Everything was ready. Physically, at least. Her mental state was another matter. It was easy to tell herself now that she had no qualms about killing her own kind. She’d fought other Kig-Yar before, in the Swords’ campaigns against Covenant remnants. But disorganised packs demented zealots still clinging to the Covenant ways were very different to crews of free Kig-Yar embracing the ancestral traditions that they had long been denied. Traditions that they had fought long and hard to reclaim. Traditions they would fight just as hard to keep. But those traditions had come at a price, in pain inflicted most often on those least deserving of punishment. Misguided though they were, the Covenant remnants still believed in something. Killing for a cause at least had some nobility to it. But pirates took for the sake of taking, slaughtered for sport... it was senseless. Selfish. The fantasy and folklore fell well short of the reality. Even free Kig-Yar weren't free from consequences.
  3. My bad. Fixed. Thanks. It's been fun diving back into his headspace, trying to imagine the effect of centuries of regret and isolation.
  4. Name: Vir Yet Species: T’vaoan Kig-Yar. Gender: She/Her Age: Equivalent to mid-20’s in human years. Appearance: As a T’vaoan, Vir is noticeably more bird-like than other Kig-Yar variants, with true feathers rather than quills. Her plumage is purple-black in hue, running from her head and down her back, with patches on her forearms as well. She stands around six feet in height (though usually adopts a hunched-forward posture that makes her appear somewhat shorter), with a lean, nimble physique, and sharp talons on her feet and hands. Her skin is dark and leathery, with her head possessing bony facial coverings, and her snout having both sharp teeth and a beaked tip. Beady green eyes peer out from beneath her ridged brows, perpetually inspecting everything in sight with an insightful, inquisitive glee. Her armour is of the Murmillo style, based off of ancient Kig-Yar gladiatorial designs, but with the copper/crimson colouration commonly used by the Swords Of Sanghelios. Rank: Skirmisher. Personality: Hailing from a society that prizes freedom, and having spent most of her life in the one place, Vir is eternally eager to encounter and explore new things. However, this eagerness can manifest as restless impatience during periods of downtime, with Vir constantly seeking physical or mental stimulation to keep herself entertained. Despite her own curiosity about others, Vir rarely opens up about herself. Having lost her parents to the war, along with many of her nestmates and friends, she’s reluctant to form close relationships again, not wanting to suffer the sorrow of more losses. Background: Vir grew up in Myur City on the asteroid of T’vao, a hardy Kig-Yar colony wracked by adverse environmental conditions and dramatic atmospheric shifts. Compounding the already-harsh upbringing of T’vao’s denizens was the ever-present oppression of the Covenant, who sourced many of T’vao’s warriors to serve as sacrificial shock troops on the frontlines of faraway worlds. Vir was one of many young T’vaoan Kig-Yar orphaned by the Reach campaign, fostering a deep resentment within her for the Covenant’s endless conquests. But with options limited under Covenant rule, she underwent combat training nonetheless when she came of age. Following the fall of the Covenant, a universe of possibilities suddenly unfolded before Vir, from the lofty ambitions of the Banished, to the freedom of a mercenary’s life, to the profitable prospects of a pirate. But ultimately she chose to give her allegiance to the Swords Of The Sanghelios, respecting their founders for their role in ending the tyranny of the Prophets, and viewing them as her best avenue to exact retribution against those foolish few who still cling to the ways of the Covenant. Equipment: Vir’s primary weapon of choice is a standard Gadulo-pattern Needle Rifle. For more confined encounters she also carries a Nahle'hax-pattern Needler, while relying on her claws and teeth for melee situations. For protection, her armour is equipped with paired Point Defence bracers. Her helmet includes night vision capabilities, as well as optical integration with her weapons, similar to the VISR heads-up-display system utilised by human forces. Skills: Like most T’vaoans, Vir’s strengths lie in speed and agility. With room to run she can reach speeds of up to 72 kilometers/45 miles per hour in short bursts, and she can leap great heights and distances. Trained in the traditional techniques of the Skirmisher caste, she utilises her speed and dexterity in battle, outpacing and outmanoeuvring enemies rather than facing them head-on. Having worked with the Covenant, Swords Of Sanghelios, and now the UNSC, Vir has a decent grasp of Sangheili and human languages in addition to her own, as well as a few common phrases in the dialects of other species. However, her comprehension and vocabulary are very simple and straightforward, as she still struggles with idioms, metaphors, and other turns of phrase that don’t translate easily. Like most Kig-Yar, she also struggles with the pronunciation of “F” sounds in particular when speaking English. Flaws: While reinforced for combat, Vir’s armour lacks the energy shielding used by Spartans and Sangheili, and her bracers don’t protect as much of her body as the standard Kig-Yar shields, leaving her more vulnerable to injury. Having only very recently began working with humanity (the Madrigal being her first deployment on a UNSC vessel), she’s still inexperienced with many human technologies. Due to her upbringing in a matriarchal society, Vir has a natural dislike for males in positions of power, and tends to gravitate towards female-presenting authority figures for direction and guidance. Like many Kig-Yar, she also has a natural attraction to glittery and glamourous objects. Though she isn’t foolish enough to incite conflict by stealing from her comrades, she’s been known to pinch any sufficiently-shiny items she comes across in the field while on missions.
  5. And sent it was. Blizzard's Chapter is now live.
  6. I like to think of life as a river. Our passage through this world is a steady stream, flowing ever forward, carrying each of us along. Sometimes there are chaotic currents, and sometimes there’s calm. Sometimes there are turns, and sometimes the river travels straight. And sometimes those of us travelling along that river sink, or swim, or make a splash, impacting the travels of those who flow alongside us. But for a long time now, I’ve thought of myself as a bird, flying above the river instead of upon it. I follow its course, I stay close enough to see its stories, but I leave nary a ripple. That wasn’t always the case, though. Once I was a stone, skipping along the surface, leaving tidal waves in my wake. In part, this work is about making myself forget those times. It’s easy to get lost in the memories, in the history, in remembering the lives of the lost Rahkshi instead of wondering where they might be now. But I received a letter from one of those Rahkshi today, who had heard about my work and wanted to share her story with me. A Rahkshi who I’ve never met, but whose life, it turns out, was impacted profoundly by my ripples. Blizzard’s Chapter (By That Matoran with a Vahi) The first thing I learned at Corpus Rahkshi was to keep my head down. At least if I didn't want to lose it. I have you to thank for that Exxan, I guess. I never knew you personally, and I certainly never knew the truth of what went down between you and your sister, although the rumours said plenty. But my first day at school was the same day as your last, and when a little newbie rahk sees a display like that... well, it makes an impression. I had thought I was ready to handle anything. That final confrontation you two had told me that I was anything but. It shattered my confidence, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe if it hadn't, I would have ended up like so many of our less fortunate brothers and sisters. As it was, I kept myself out of the spotlight. I learned. I grew, maturing through the kraata stages. I mastered weather of all kinds, including the one I'd wanted to desperately to learn, the one for which I'd named myself: the blizzard. I didn't make a scene, or make any more enemies than I could help - Though in that place, pitting Rahk against Rahk as it did, a few enemies were inevitable. After a while, I was called back to my Makuta father's army. He had need of a Rahk in the field with a head for tactics, one of our breed; and as the most recent specimen that he'd sent to the school, he wanted to see how far I'd progressed. And I performed capably, leading several raids of our less-gifted brethren, dirtying my hands with the blood of Matoran and Steltians and any other races you could name, all in the name of the cause. But there was another thing I'd learned at Corpus Rahkshi, more of an attitude change than anything. And that was that I didn't want to fight. For sure I could, I was capable, and that was all any Makuta cared about... but it wasn't what I wanted to do with my powers. I wanted to strike awe with them, for sure, but not terror or death. I wanted others to see in the weather I summoned the same beauty that I did myself: the beauty of snowflakes swirling all around in a tightly-packed blizzard, tracing their delicate trails through the air before they heaped up on top one another and buried everything under their blanket of white. The beauty of storms rumbling through the air, discharging lightning and thunder; of the most torrential downpour, washing the world in its embrace. Even the beauty of fog and mist, of wind and sleet and hail... It was all beautiful, incredible to me, and every time I summoned my powers to control them I felt a little thrill... and I wanted others to feel the same. Not to fear me, but to join me in marvelling at what I was able to create. Antroz may have been a more understanding Makuta than most, but not even he would have been happy with one of his commanding Rahks taking a permanent vacation from the war. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, an opportunity presented itself when Antroz recalled another Rahk - I don't remember now their name - from the school to lead their own squad in cooperation with mine. Luck is a funny thing, and as mine would have it, this Rahk had been an enemy of mine at Corpus Rahkshi, one who I'd show up several times when we'd been competing against each other, and who was dying to give me a taste of my own medicine. Perfect. On one mission, we got into a fight. Maybe I instigated it; more likely they did. But I allowed it to go badly for myself, let them think they'd killed me so that they would report that back to Antroz... and then slunk away into the night once everyone else had forgotten my 'corpse'. I hear Antroz was as mad as anything. But I was free. What did I do, where did I go? None of that was really important. A Rahk alone is unwelcomed by most other of the universe's inhabitants, so I kept to myself, travelled from one remote spot to another, where I could summon beautiful and bizarrely unseasonal weather conditions where they wouldn't bother anyone else. Occasionally, some brave Matoran would come to investigate the strange goings-on, and I'd always make myself scarce. After a while, they started to attribute my work to some restless ghost that controlled the weather. Some places, I would return to later and find they'd left out offerings to placate the supposed spirit. I guess I became kinda fond of the little guys. They were so earnest, so sure that their restless ghost was a decent soul who had suffered some horrible trauma, and so determined to try and help her find rest... sure, it was silly. But I found myself warming to them; sometimes even manipulating the weather in their favour when I had the chance. This must have gone on for many hundreds of years; I soon lost count. Of all the things we could have studied at Corpus Rahkshi, I never did much care for maths. Finally, though, my deception caught up to me. The rumours of the so-called ghost had reached Antroz, and with the fact that my body had never turned up, he put two and two together. One night, in a violent storm that for once was not of my own making, he sought me out in the abandoned Matoran shrine where I was currently making my home. "You must think yourself clever, little Rahk." I still remember the way his voice, one that I recognised instantly even after so long, sent a chill down my spine. "Is this what Corpus taught you? Running, hiding, playing dead? I would have expected better of Icarax; he may be as unsubtle as a Kane-Ra in a Matoran pottery shop, but I would have anticipated he would at least have instilled his own bloodthirstiness into his students." I had already realised there was no use hiding; and if he knew I was there, he would also know if I tried to flee him. I had no choice but to face him down on his own terms... but at least here, I had familiarity with the lie of the land over him. Making sure the daggers that I preferred over a standard Rahkshi staff were sheathed at my hips, I stepped out of my hiding hole to meet my 'father'. Even though he had known I was there, his eyes narrowed at the sight of me. Maybe at the way I stood tall and didn't cower before him. It wasn't that I was unafraid. Any Makuta could be terrifying, and that Antroz was calmer than most only made his rage all the more fearful to bear witness to. And yet, while I certainly knew that he was holding my life in his claws... nothing that he could do to me actually scared me. "I learned plenty about brutality and destruction from Icarax." I was pleased to note that my voice didn't tremble; for a few short moments, at least, I was holding my own. "But it was the others of my kind there who taught me that life was worth living for its own sake." Antroz looked at me for a long time. "I see now that the school was a mistake. Sentiment, individuality... these may be fascinating, but they have no place in a creature whose only purpose in life is to be a soldier. Allowing so many of you to mix together has only brought out the worst in many of you." "You call it the worst." I continued to face him evenly. For as long as he allowed me life, I could even let myself foolishly think that I was almost his equal. "But I'm still capable. I can still fight, I can still crush enemies. I'm not squeamish. But I can also decide when I'm done. When I want more out of life." "And what more, exactly, can a Rahkshi get out of life?" His tone was condescending, but - at least to my ears - not immediately dismissive. "Do you really expect to integrate into Matoran society? As if they'd have your kind-- and as if you don't have the blood of many of theirs on your claws?" He didn't say it, but I didn't need to be a mind-reading Rahkshi to recognise what he was thinking: As if anyone would accept a Rahkshi. We were made to be instruments of the Brotherhood, tools of war and nothing more. But who cared? "I can accept myself. I can appreciate solitude. And I can enjoy the beauty my powers can create." "Beauty." He looked about as the storm crashed around us, forks of lightning striking perilously close, although I was already certain none would touch me. "The only beauty I see is the beauty of destructive chaos." I could feel my slitted eyes flash. "Then you're not looking hard enough." I swept my arms upwards, seizing control of the storm. The wind picked up in intensity, swirling around us both, as the lightning sparked and clashed; its strikes no longer random, but in beautiful, meaningfully intertwining patterns. Rain and snow swirled and danced at a wiggle of my fingertips, drenching and chilling us both even in their majesty. It was the display of all displays, as I allowed the last few flecks of dying sunlight through the clouds, making every droplet, every flake, sparkle with a heart of crimson. For all my effort, I'm still not certain Antroz was actually impressed; but he could certainly see my passion. And I would swear that he had never seen such passion from a Rahkshi before. Dare I say it intrigued him? I'm not sure, even now. Maybe he saw something of worth in a Rahk allowed to follow her own heart, after all. Maybe he was just playing some cruel game with me. Either way, we somehow came out of that encounter with a deal struck. I hadn't known it at the time, but the Brotherhood's schemes were moving towards their fruition, the final stages of the grand Plan of the Makuta of Metru Nui. Antroz himself departed for the universe's heart only a few days after. But, he impressed upon me, he needed a proven, capable Rahk of the new breed to lead a platoon of standard Rahkshi forces in the last siege of Metru Nui. After that, he asserted, the Makuta would rule all and have no need of conquering armies; so if I served him well in the battle, I could go my own way afterwards. Would Antroz have been as good as his word? I couldn't say. I led my platoon well; but despite all our best efforts, Metru Nui didn't fall. Antroz died in the universe's core along with almost every other Makuta. My platoon was obliterated by the arrival of the Toa vehicles at the last moment. I escaped alive only by virtue of having a greater self-preservation instinct than they. And then it was all over. Oh, sure. The Makuta of Metru Nui took control; but he had no attention to spare for one rogue Rahkshi like me. The universe fell; but I had no great love for the place anyway. I, like so many others, migrated out onto the new world of Spherus Magna. These days I run my own business. In my days at Corpus and under Antoz, I am not ashamed to admit that I developed a hoarding streak; I'd collect souvenirs from every raid, pretty things: jewellery, ornate weapons, anything that caught my eye. Just one or two from each site of battle; but over time, they all accumulated. I had several crates full of such curios to my name, and with the old universe ruined many of them are in high demand. I know that who I am turns away many customers; but even so, I see enough business to get by. And once every fortnight, I hold a display of my weather powers in all their beauty out in a secluded area, where they won't bother anyone else, for whoever wants to see them. You should drop by sometime, if you want to: there's always a seat for a fellow Corpus alumni. We may have never met each other but I had to say it: thanks. For changing my life.
  7. IC: Somok - Precipere "It's easy to dismiss as savagery what we don't understand." Despite the harsh note in Tueris' tone, those words were enough to cut off whatever dismissive retort Somok had been readying. There was wisdom in them, wisdom that the Fire Tribe of old had lacked... that perhaps Somok himself was lacking... "...if he takes the Bone Hunters seriously, then so do I." "Then so shall we," he replied, making a mental note to inform the guards of the new developments as soon as he was done here. "I won't keep you any longer. A scout and a healer from our tribe were willing to join you when I spoke with them yesterday, but in light of today's revelations, I'll leave it to them to decide if they want to accompany you. If, indeed, you even want their company." @a goose @~Xemnas~ @oncertainty @Burnmad
  8. IC: Somok - Precipere The old Agori let out a derisive snort as Tueris gave his explanation. His laugh only deepened as he saw the way the other Fire Glatorian reacted to the older one's words. He was half-tempted to make some derisive remark about the gullibility of the Fire Tribe, but the mere fact that this expedition was here conducting their own investigation meant they at least weren't blindly accepting the Bone Hunter's story. "I think we can all agree that the word of Skopio scat snorting savages is... dubious, at best. Especially ones stupid enough to admit to burning the evidence," he said, scoffing. "I don't envy the task that lies ahead of you." @a goose @Burnmad @~Xemnas~ @oncertainty
  9. First off, I'd love to know your source for some of these. Onu-Matoran are cited as only having "limited night vision" in most sources, and I can't find any reference to them being able to sense vibrations in the ground. Generally speaking, though, some of these things are more like stereotypes than actual attributes. And some of them seem to specifically apply to Matoran on the island of Mata Nui, and aren't representative of how those Matoran would operate elsewhere in the universe (eg. Le-Matoran being super capable at heights but uncoordinated on the ground). Throughout canon, we've seen plenty of Matoran who don't adhere as closely to these characteristics. As for Su-Matoran basically being better than Ta-Matoran, that's just the unfortunate downside of power creep and adding elements that overlap with each other. We know so little about Su-Matoran in-story that you can say whatever you want about them. That said, I don't think using the Kolhii Skills of the Ta-Matoran population on Mata Nui to justify a trait of the rest of the species is a good choice. The Matoran on Mata Nui were mind-wiped and indoctrinated on lies by untrustworthy Turaga who wanted to keep them compliant, and their traits and values aren't representative of the wider universe.
  10. IC: Somok - Precipere "We keep to ourselves, and recycle our metals, so we have even less contact with Ferrum than you do," Somok replied, meeting the one-eyed Glatorian's gaze. "That said, there was a recent incident. A few weeks past, our best Glatorian went out on a hunt, as they often do, but this time they didn't return." He knew it was a risk, admitting that Precipere was all but undefended. But the situation in Ferrum clearly appeared to be Vulcanus' priority, and though there was plenty of bad blood between the tribes of Ash and Fire, the latter had never historically shown any interest in eradicating or invading the former. "We found their remains days later, picked over by predators. When I heard contact had been lost with Ferrum, I wondered if it was connected, if perhaps some new creature had taken up residence in the canyon... but if you say a plague is what has afflicted Ferrum then our losses are likely unrelated." It was almost disappointing, in truth. If the deaths of Behjen and the others had been related to Ferrum's fate then at least there would be some one or thing to blame. A threat that could be identified, destroyed, or avoided. But Somok had lived long enough to know that not everything was part of some grand coincidence or conspiracy. The canyons were dangerous, and even the most capable of warriors could grow complacent. Sometimes a hunting accident was just that. "Still... might I ask how and what you know of this plague? If this threat still exists, I want to protect my people from it." @a goose @~Xemnas~ @Burnmad @oncertainty
  11. Broadly speaking, people do. I'm aware of one guy who's recently been kicked out of a bunch of Bionicle Discords for selling fake Sand Tarakavas and doing other dodgy stuff on his Bricklink store. But at this point the Bionicle community are really on top of the history of prototypes and uncommon parts. It's very, very rare that something completely new and unheard of turns up, especially given how long ago G1 was now. It's usually pretty easy to check the provenance of something and figure out if it's real or not. As someone who resin prints Masks myself, you can definitely tell them apart from the real thing when you have them in-hand. No matter how good the printer is, there will still be some visible layer lines if you look closely enough, and possibly evidence of where supports were attached. If someone tried to pass off prints as the real thing they'd be caught out as soon as the parts changed hands. On the other hand, there are people who do resin casts of parts, which would capture authentic details like injection mould sites. At a glance, resin-cast parts are much harder to discern from the real thing, but again, I think the community as a whole would get suspicious if a huge number of rare parts with no provenance started appearing on the market. In the long run, cast-makers would probably make more money by being upfront about what their product is. I think context is important here. People are more willing to take something like this at face value because the person posting about it isn't trying to sell them, and is being open about the fact they're trying to research their origins. Your other example of the unusual Hau is definitely much more dubious, but I don't want to make unfounded accusations about a user I've had no contact with.
  12. IC: Skrall - Are We There Yet? Skrall met his companion's upraised eyebrows with the raising of his own, but he too kept his silence. The elder's advice seemed sound, but Skrall didn't know enough to confirm or condemn its logic. His moment of humiliation earlier that morning had taught him the value of holding his tongue. Conversation was surprisingly like combat in that way, he was swiftly learning. One's words could expose weaknesses, leave the speaker open to counterattack. A casual conversation with a comrade like the one he'd been engaged in for most of the journey was what he considered a relatively low-stakes encounter, and allowing his vulnerabilities and uncertainties to show had earned him what he hoped to be an earnest ally. But matters of import were best left to those who believed they knew better. Whether they were right or not didn't much matter to Skrall. If they did, then the mission would proceed smoothly. If they didn't, then they would bear the brunt of the punishment for failure. Despite Skrall's outward stoicism, unbridled excitement bubbled within him. Though the Bone Hunters were little more than a rabble of rogue Rock Agori, their stronghold was still the first, official Southern settlement Skrall was going to get to see. The mission was about to begin in earnest.
  13. I don't think you understand how inflation works...
  14. IC: Somok - Precipere "Plague?" The Agori's already-haggard features furrowed into a frown, "We only heard that contact had been lost with Ferrum." This encounter was nowhere near to what he'd dreading. He'd been expecting to see a crimson column of Raanu's rabble rampaging through Precipere with accusations and vitriol, but instead he was facing a mixed group led by an amicable Glatorian of Iron. Somok had been planning to send Xyde and Salwa along to placate the suspicion and anger he'd expected the Fire Agori to throw the Ash Tribe's way. Now, such a strategy seemed both unnecessary, and potentially hazardous to the Ash Tribe as a whole. "You may pass freely through our village," Somok said, "But if there is a plague, I can't promise that you'll be permitted to return the same way." @~Xemnas~ @oncertainty @Burnmad @a goose
  15. I wouldn't call that disabled. The site still exists and is accessible. Despite what the error message claims, the pages all still seem to be there, they're just not showing their content properly. Changelogs, etc. are still able to be viewed, but when I try to view the Page Source it seems like there's some kind of database issue where the actual contents of the pages isn't appearing. Most likely there was some kind of update that broke the pages, and since the site appears to be very dead (you're the only user whose name shows up in the changelog for at least the past month), no one else has noticed, and/or fixing it isn't a high priority. You'd be better off contacting BS01 staff directly than posting about it here.
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