Azibo

IC: Othorak, Ta-Metru Skies That sword tech was nice. Othorak would have to get something like it. It surely inflicted quite the shock to him. The pain was searing; it was almost like his insides fried for a moment. His foe took a hit too, though, and seemed pretty hurt as well. The sensation gave Othorak an idea. He activated his Faxon and thought about those curious little critters... Hoto Beetles. He felt his body heating up... same as those Rahi as they burned they're way through the earth and stone and even some buildings, much to the Matoran's dismay. Sidra took a defensive stance, "Perfect," Othorak thought. He jumped back, landing on top of some of the engine parts. Steam evaporated off his scalding armor, and he too took a defensive position. If the Dark Hunter wanted to stop him, she'd have to get close. Close enough to grapple, and maybe melt away in his hands... OOC: @Nato the Traveler sorry for slow responses

IC: Othorak, Ta-Metru Skies Sidra dodged again, and now countered with her own blade. Othorak thought it some Xian tech, though he didn't recognize it. At any rate, he resolved to fall back on his strength. He swung his broadsword to meet the Dark Hunter's swing, hoping to push both blades back into the emerald assassin OOC: @Nato the Traveler IC: Sans, The Notch After some time, Sans led the party back to where they started, a little wet and a little sore form their previous attempts to solve this riddle. He motioned towards the four marked boards, picking up the black one for himself. "One of you mentioned having some rappelling rope, correct? We should all shimmy down, then try our hand at this more mysterious chute, below." OOC: @Onaku @Crimson Jester @EmperorWhenua

IC: Othorak, Ta-Metru Skies Sidra more than ducked; she practically fell backwards as she dodged Othorak's swing. His sword broke off another pipe from the convoluted airship mechanisms, billowing steam into the scene. He drew back his sword to swing again, yet was stopped by the Dark Hunter's foot pounding into his sword hand. His arm flew back and his stance wavered a bit, so while before attempting to use his sword again, he launched a sickly Rhotuka from his chest straight down towards the wretched mercenary.

IC: Othorak, Showdown in the Sky "So, it's going to be like this then," Othorak thought. His foe had forced the Matoran back at him. Othorak realized there was only one way this battle was going to go now. "So be it." Othorak has prepared his sword arm to strike down his foe. Instead, his blade crashed through the body of his hostage. One half collapsed on either side of his frame. "Nothing to get in our way now," Othorak smiled. He resumed his charge towards the Dark Hunter, sweeping his sword horizontally, hoping to cleave her in half as well.

IC: Othorak, Ta-Metru Skies "I thought you League types were supposed to be conquerors, not cowards. In the short time I've been hunting you, all I've seen you do is run away, and pick on those weaker than you." Othorak's foe had followed after all. All he could do was lick his lips. "Suffice it to say, I'm not impressed." Othorak never took his eyes off the chest of the mercenary, but his ears couldn't help hearing some blaster fire back towards the cockpit. "Was this Dark Hunter executing the Matoran?" Othorak didn't get this opponent. She had some gadgets, some natural powers, and some unclear motives, along with a few blades. Othorak had to be ready for anything. "I wouldn't call it cowardice. No, I'd call it focused." Othorak stepped forward cautiously. He made it a point to keep the captured Matoran firmly in his grasp a shield between him and the Dark Hunter. "If you just had your toy annihilate the Matoran, then congratulations. You only saved me the effort of doing it myself." He pressed his broadsword to the throat of the Matoran he held up. "Something tells me you aren't the type to kill whatever gets in your way. Weak! I am the greatest warrior Stelt has ever seen! You'll die today!" Othorak threw the Matoran straight towards the Dark Hunter, and a moment behind he rushed forward as well, sword ready to strike wherever the green assassin may flock to. OOC: @Nato the Traveler

I'm going to operate with the assumption that as long as the skies are reddish and stars are present, anyone who dies will get right back up lol

@Unreliable Narrator so if someone dies now after the skies have changed and that crimson wave went everywhere, will they be reanimated? Or was the wave only like a one-time thing that reanimated any current dead bodies?

IC: Othorak, Stalled Above Ta-Metru It had been one full minute. Time was of the essence, and Othorak would not tolerate any delays. He stepped forward, peering out the window while towering menacingly between the center and left pilots working their respective consoles. His Matoran captive started his whimpers once more. After a few moments of tension and silence, Othorak spoke, more calm than previously, "I can feel the ship slowing down. I swear to Mata-Nui, if your friend doesn't fix whatever that red blast did to the ship in the next minute, he'll be coming back to some bodies in here." The Matoran tried to protest, to reason with their captor. They told him they were pilots, not technicians, and they didn't even know if their comrade had the right tools to diagnose the problem, let alone fix it. Othorak was tired of hearing it. Without a word, he dragged his Matoran hostage out of the cockpit with him. He tossed him down to the lower level before jumping down himself. The Matoran had no will to fight; Othorak simply bent down and picked him up by the nape of his neck once more before continuing down towards the back of the ship. His sword was ready to inspire some workplace efficiency in the Matoran he sent back to get the airship moving again.

Three posts in one: I wonder if the Makuta have anything to do with all this crimson sky stuff... Ta-Metru is gonna have so many characters in it now lol. We throwin a party? Also yayyy Turaga Nidhiki

IC: Othorak, skies above Le and Ta-Metru border For five or six or seven minutes now, the cockpit of the hijacked airship was silent. The Matoran Othorak held hostage seemed dead already, perhaps resigned to his fate. Othorak watched proudly as the view outside the window slowly changed form the technological jungles of Le-Metru to the more worn and working metal manufactures of Ta-Metru. Just as the airship began to enter this new district's airspace, though, a flash of red obscured the sky. The ship rocked, and the Matoran held hostage frantically worked to right the balance, else they risked the titan's wrath. But when they regained balance, the sky outside seemed changed, and the ship itself began to slow. "Why are we slowing?" Othorak stomped his foot on the ground. "You!" He pointed his sword at one of the pilots. "Go fix whatever was thrown off with the engine!" He stomped his foot again, leaving a mark in the cabin, and the Matoran pilot ran quickly out the room and down towards the engine. Othorak's mind began to worry. He had come so close, whatever magic worked the skies and brought the stars out in the middle of the day would not stop him now. He came too far, he could not fail. OOC: @Nato the Traveler your turn with the Matoran IC: Sans, Protodermis Pool Sans was impressed with the quick thinking of the Matoran. Had his own bravery inspired imitation? He hoped so. He hoped to inspire every Matoran he could to rise to a new level and be the best hero they could be. The time for heroism seemed to temporarily have been abated, and Sans extended a hand. The pool around them all began to sway, as he worked the protodermis into a current that carried them out of their current predicament. He brought the four of them onto the land, then let out a, "huhuhuhuhu," before he began walking back towards the starting chute station. "Let's go back. If at first we fail, we simply try again, my friends. Together, we shall not fail! OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Onaku @Crimson Jester feel free to chime in but I think we're all just going back and starting over

IC: Othorak, Cargo Airship Othorak released his grip on the Matoran when they made it to the ladder. "Climb," he commanded, and so the Matoran did, whimpering with every step. He turned back around to see a few of the small, green laborers running out of the airship, but what bothered him more was the large, green mercenary running into the airship. Othorak spat as he jumped up and followed the Matoran captive, though climbing the ladder was a bit awkward. Maybe it was the adrenaline or just Othorak's annoyance with the sniveling Le-Matoran, but he seemed to fly right up the ladder. He pinched the Le-Matoran behind his neck with one hand and kept his sword raised defensively with the other as he forced him and his hostage forward. His large frame barely fit inside the doorway to the cockpit. Inside, he found three Matoran, one at each console to the left, center, and right of the far side of the room, pressed up against the glass. Through the window, Othorak could see the chaotic scene he had caused. The streets were clearing of everyone who wasn't an armored war machine. It was like someone had disturbed a nest of hungry Nui-Rama! He could see the chutes flowing into the stations halting, and chutes flowing out of the station were increasingly full of more and more Matoran. But he wasn't here to gaze out windows. It was time to finish step 2. "If you don't get this ship in the air in the next 2 seconds I'm going to squeeze the head off of this worm then beat each of you to death with it!" His animalistic tone let the pilots know he meant it. The three pilots exchanged glances with each other. Then they complied, and the airship started to take off...

IC: Othorak, Docking Bay Skirmish Othorak was beginning to lose his cool. So he did the only thing he could do in these types of situations. He swung at the Vahki, and as expected, his blade was blocked, and as expected, the Vahki counter attacked, so Othorak unleashed his true attack, shoving his strength behind a counter-riposte which caught the Vahki off balance. Othorak's blade sunk into the shoulder armor of the robot. Had this been a normal unit, surely it would have been cleft in twain. These new units were... something else, though. Othorak had no time to test how much of a beating one unit could take, though. The Matoran, while still practically stampeding, were beginning to thin out somewhat, or at least find more shelter. The Vahki were closing in, as was this Dark Hunter. Othorak was running out of time. He ripped his sword form the Vahki and simply punched its chest, sending it back a bit and giving Othorak at least some breathing room, all while his emerald foe stalked closer to him with those ominous eyes. "There's no way out of this for you! Surrender peacefully, and the Vahki might be merciful. If not.... I won't be." Othorak was confident he could take this foe in a simple fight, but this was just slaughter, and Ohtorak had motives beyond mindless slaughter. The Vahki's high-pitched voice made it hard to think, but before any more foes could enter swinging-distance of the Steltian, he found a way out. Othorak's gaze switched form the Dark Hunter to the airship he desperately needed to board. He had watched the flight crew board it and some laborers move cargo onto it before he began his assault, so he knew that the flight staff were safely hunkered down inside. Progress had to be made; he wasn't in the mood to die trying. Othorak focused again, activating his Kanohi Faxon. He assumed the powers of another bull, a Fader Bull to be precise. These creatures were notoriously skittish, and had the ability to simply blip away from frightening foes. Othorak would make use of this ability now, as he allowed his essence to blip several kilo forward and away from his attackers. The Vahki all frantically swerved their heads in the moments immediately following the supposed vanishing of the red-and-lime titan. Othorak felt a bad headache coming on. Rapid switching between Rahi powers could range from a minor headache to severe pain throughout his skull, depending on how strenuous and how frequently he used his Kanohi powers. He had only rarely used this power before, and every time teleportation seemed to mess with his sense of balance and mental clarity. Put simply, Othorak preferred to barge into a room than to just appear in it. Still, he made it inside the airship. Wasting no time and ignoring the slight mind ache, Othorak stomped deeper into the cargo bay, discovering several Le-Matoran cowering behind one especially big box. He grabbed one green Matoran with a matching Matatu by the throat, hoisting him way above the ground as he snarled, "which way to the pilot's chamber? Answer me!" Then Othorak threw the Matoran on the ground, before picking him right back up again. He tried not to clench the poor victim;s throat too tightly, so he could listen to the response. A meek voice and a strained finger pointing to a ladder further inside which led up to the center of the ship gave Othorak the answer he needed. The Steltian dropped the Matoran, then grabbed his foot before dragging his victim behind him as he began walking back towards the ladder.

IC: Othorak, Skirmish at the Docking Bay It was hard to hear anything outside of the screaming Matoran and Othorak's own racing mind. Yet one voice could be heard cutting through the crowd as precisely as those Rhotuka sliced through whatever lay in their path. "Coward! "Face me!" "Fine," Othorak thought. He drove his shoulder into the Vahki, and while the emotionless police robot lurched back a bit, Othorak spun around to face his emerald foe. "HAAAAAAAHH!!" Othorak was more impatient than angry as he clenched his free fist and fired off a Rhotuka from his chest. Eerie wisps of jade evaporated behind the revolving projectile as it sped back at the Dark Hunter. Othorak swung his broadsword back behind him and turned towards the Vahki again, which had ducked beneath Othorak's blade. The two squared off again, and Othorak kicked the Vahki's knee, more to buy himself time to reset his sword stance than to cripple the enforcer, and without his full strength behind the attack, the armored Vahki wouldn't be defeated so easily.

IC: Othorak, Airship Docks Othorak's momentum was accelerating as he was closing the gap between him and the airship. Maybe this would all go smoother than expected? No, it couldn't. Life was never so easy. As he ran forward, he looked backwards, and saw the crooked mercenary firing upon him again. These Rhotuka were fast, and Othorak couldn't afford to calculate every step. He let his Steltian instinct take over. Steltians were naturally cutthroat and bloody. While not as recklessly violent as Skakdi or as scheming as Vortixx, they understood more than most the balance between violence and respect. If one could not project power and punish challenges, then one was doomed to be a slave, forever. Othorak was no slave. Othorak was a fighter, and a victor. He jumped in the air and grabbed a panicking Le-Matoran's face as he ascended. Othorak's concentration wavered, resulting in his Faxon ceasing activities, though the bull Rahi's powers may no longer have been needed. As he jumped, his momentum carried his large frame forwards, and the first of the Rhotuka swept beneath his feet. As he fell, he increased his grip on the powerless Matoran's skull, and whipped the green worker's entire body back behind him. The second Rhotuka would spill blood, but it would only be that of the nameless Matoran whom Othorak used as a shield of sorts. The sick pleasure Othorak derived from the sight only barely outweighed the terror he felt at understanding how lethal these blasts could be. One misstep, a single miscalculation, and it wouldn't just be his mission ending. The airship was several bio away still. As he ran forward again, Othorak wracked his mind for a more clever Rahi to mimic, yet his thoughts were interrupted as a newer-model Vahki dove at him. Othorak's blade matched the staff of the robot, and the two entered a contest of strength as this skirmish prolonged itself. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator idk if you want to do some Vahki stuff or whatever. @Nato the Traveler

I hope y'all are ready for a bloodbath... Not that it really matters, but I like to use those background Matoran when I can, so the hostage Othorak has right now is this dude. Poor guy https://biosector01.com/wiki/Makani

IC: Othorak - Airship Docks Sliiiccceeee! Pain. That's what Othorak processed. The Steltian knew pain. He'd endured his own battles, and would never forget how it felt to survive the Steltian fighting pits. His betrayal was discovered, and his kin threw him into one. Even as the League stormed the island, and warships filled the air with explosions and smoke, the gladiators remained fighting. Most of the audience were fleeing, yet a few stubborn members remained just to see Othorak fall. Only, he did not fall. Foe after foe fell to his blade. He withstood a dozen knives penetrating his chest as he crushed his foe's head with his hands. He blacked out in that pit, awaking briefly during some excruciating surgery, then again in a recovery ward of some League medical retreat. His chest had been repaired- upgraded, even- but his memories of the pain felt that day would never fade. This pain was nothing compared to what Othorak felt the day Stelt fell. Some rhotuka had whizzed its way through the stampede of Matoran. Othorak noticed, and tripped up some trying to avoid it, but once in motion, a titan like himself was hard to stop so suddenly. The rhotuka hadn't really hurt him- it nearly missed him completely, just grazing the surface of his furthest-forward calf. But there was a noticeable gash covering the greater part of that calf. He could still use the leg, though. In fact, Othorak thought about using that leg to kick the head off whoever dared strike him. With fury in his eyes, Othorak turned his head towards the attacker. "Hmm..." Othorak attempted to analyze his foe in a moment. "Some Hunter, surely. Takadox's kin. I must avoid his gaze." Othorak wasn't the most knowledgeable about the intricacies of ever race in the universe, yet he did know enough about each of the Barraki's species to know that Takadox had many minions who seemed enthralled by the blue beast after daring to meet his eyes. Othorak looked down at his leg as the blood began to swell, and grimaced, evil oozing out his maw. The Vahki were more aggressively moving Matoran out their way. It would be less than a minute before he was buried under a pile of them. Othorak couldn't afford to linger. He ignored his flesh wound, and focused on activating his mask. "Let's see this thug try and stop me now!" Othorak's mind flashed with feelings of pride and visions of Kalmah shaking his hand after a job well done, as well as imagining one Le-Metru Rahi in particular: an Artakha Bull. Legends said these creatures were smart, but Othorak didn't care about that. Instead, he needed one's speed and leg strength, partly to forget the pain in his calf when he started sprinting towards his targeted airship. He took off, fast. Faster than otherwise possible, though this was no Kakama. Matoran couldn't get out of the way fast enough as his large legs kicked them aside or ran them down. A few Vahki tried blasting him, but they feared hitting the Matoran, and their shots were too cautiously high to make their mark. Othorak would soon be at the docked airship, and the Matoran cowering inside of it would be within his grasp... OOC: @Nato the Traveler

IC: Othorak- Le-Metru streets "Matoran gangs. Pfft!" Othorak spit at the notion that Matoran could handle any sort of violent interaction. He had dealt with countless of them, and all of them quaked under the threat of his might. If the graffiti were simple messages, or art even, then Othorak spat just the same. He hated the Matoran. they were so naive, so weak. he was glad to be chosen for his mission. He was glad to hurt them. He spent all day laying as low as possible. But every second he felt could be his last, before being found out. He wouldn't admit it, but Othorak was afraid what might happen if he were found out. Vahki were easy enough, when in small number, but he was just one man, against an entire city. Add into that the presence of the Dark hunters and all their weird abominations, well, who could be asked to predict what may happen? How would one even prepare to fight some random mercenary of their order? Othorak had to succeed, he had to press on, before he could be stopped. His ears told him he was close to a hub of activity. His eyes soon followed, with how many airships he began seeing flying in and out of the space ahead of him. He dashed into the darkness behind one apparently-active building before the Vahki patrols could see him. He could hear the ships and hear the crowds. He was too close now; there was no turning back. "But how do I go forward?" After a moment of adrenaline-fueled thought, he realized, "not forward, up." Othorak began to climb the fire escape in this alley. It was Matoran-sized, so instead of truly using it, he just scaled the outside of it. The metal creaked and clanged under his weight, but the sounds of the busy Metru drowned out any noise he produced. As he climbed closer to the rooftop, he could begin making out figures and shapes churning through the chutes above. There was no turning back now. Othorak tried to plan how he would make his first move. "There's no point in subtlety anymore. I have to play my hand. I will overpower them; I'll force my way forward." His mind was made up. On the rooftop, Othorak could clearly see the docks' plaza below him. He crouched and traversed the rooftop, sure that his mighty footsteps were bellowing throughout the building below him. "No turning back now." There were countless Matoran bustling to and fro. A few chute entrances and exits with people and cargo utilizing both. But mainly, there were several platforms where airships hovered or landed as they loaded and unloaded. Vahki stood guard at every corner, some of them were even the newer models. They watched every movement. "I have to take away their advantage," Othorak pondered. After a moment, he knew how to negate the Vahki's numbers. He stood at the building's edge. He cared not for who might see him. The entire City of Legends would see him now. Othorak loosed his sword before jumping off the building. THUNK! He landed on his feet, and momentum carried his offhand's fist to the metal beneath him as well. As he rose, he let his gaze wonder around the plaza. All activity stopped for the briefest of moments as every active pair of eyes turned towards this sudden appearance. Then the panic started. And that's when Othorak yelled, "Fear me! The League has come for Metru-Nui!" His pride overcoming any fear or rationality, he proudly strode onward, towards a docked airship across the plaza. The Vahki all became alert and began to approach him, but every actor moved slowly as a stampede of Matoran overflowed across the open plaza. Everywhere, the little ones screamed, many trembled in place too afraid to move, some hid behind the nearest crate or shipment. Most of them stampeded, though. They ran every which way, and Vahki everywhere had to keep maneuvering around them. It was like a rainbow had crashed into the surface and splintered into a hundred pieces across the platform. Othorak began to pick up his pace, knocking Matoran down as they ran past his thick legs, and even swatting a few with the broad side of his sword, just to feel powerful. In this moment- with the Vahki blocked from advancing by the panicked crowd of Matoran, and his targeted airship so close to his grasp- Othorak felt proud, and powerful, and was already dreaming of the praise he would personally receive from Kalmah once he returned form his mission. OOC: @Nato the Traveler You may want to follow that squad of Vahki about to sprint towards a screaming stampede up ahead...

IC: Sans, Protodermisfall? Sans and the others whipped through the chutes. Not knowing what lie ahead for them, Sans remained alert underneath his jovial demeanor. Good thing, because in an instant, he had to act to save them all. The Alpinist was falling. The party turned a bend and saw his icy body plummeting towards a pool of protodermis that surely would leave him dead on impact. The rest of the party immediately followed suit. They all were falling. They all were going to die. Unless Sans could save them. His old age granted Sans a heightened ability to focus. His mind was his greatest weapon. So he performed tow acts simultaneously. One, he activated his mask, growing, and growing, and growing until he was practically a giant. He scooped up the Cartographer and the sickly Matoran in his arms, and as he did so, he conjured every bit of elemental power he could, and rose a strong tentacle out of the pool below to wrap around the Alpinist's body. The tentacle dragged the Alpinist down to the waters a bit softer than his flat impact would've been. Now came the trickiest part. Sans attempted to raise the pool somewhat to give him some leeway here, but relied mostly on his sheer size to soften the impact. SPLASH! It took a bit of maneuvering, but Sans avoided crushing the Alpinist by a slim margin. The impact still hurt, yet Sans had to eat it. As his old body started to float back to the top, he lifted the two Matoran up out of his arms and towards the surface, so they hopefully wouldn't drown. SO there the party was: three Matoran and one huge Turaga, treading water in a forsaken slum somewhere amidst the tangled chutes of the Notch. "After such a long trip to Metru-Nui, I needed a good bath, huhuhuhu." IC: Othorak, Le-Metru Hideaway The endless hours of lying in the dark were mental torture. Yet Othorak knew he had to bide his time. Until now. Now, Othorak knew he had to venture outward. He had to finish his mission. As he crawled off the couch and made his way to his tunnel out fo the rundown apartment, he took one final look at those Matoran corpses which had started falling apart. "Plenty more where those came from," he smugly assured himself. The crawl sucked. the tunnel was just big enough to fit him. A day of digging it with nothing but brute force to move earth and stone and roots left Othorak extra grumpy. Now crawling back through it was having a similar effect. Othorak was driven, though. No obstacle would stop him. After several minutes, Othorak emerged from his tunnel. It was day time. He heaved his big rock out of the way, and climbed out, but his rock tumbled a bit down the beach side. "It's gonna be one of those days," the cranky Steltian thought. He lumbered over to begin rolling it back, and just when he began to push, he felt something. He looked down, and the grassy patch of shoreline seemed... lit up? Othorak whipped his head around to see an airship above him! It's spotlight was directly on him. "FORGET THE ROCK!" Othorak felt panic and adrenaline pumping through his veins. He bolted towards the Metru, leaving his tunnel entrance exposed and fleeing from the line of sight of the airship. "What did they see? Did they realize who I am? Will the alarms sound soon?" Othorak crouched in an alleyway after what seemed a lifetime of sprinting for his life. There were no alarms, and the airship didn't follow him. "Did I really get away?" Othorak was worried, but only until a lone Vahki turned into his alleyway. "KARZ!" Clearly, this wasn't Othorak's day. It wasn't a newer model, yet the Vahki still engaged. It fired blasts from its staff at him, but Othorak jumped behind a dumpster for shelter. "This one has wheels," and it was then he fought back. Using sheer force, Othorak quickly moved towards the Vahki by means of pushing the dumpster down the alleyway. The blasts stopped. As Othorak peeped over the edge to see if his foe had fled, he instead saw the Vahki sprinting towards him on all fours! He could end this now, he knew it. Othorak leaped over the dumpster and drew his sword as he rushed towards the robot enforcer. The Vahki lunged, but was struck down mid-air by a mighty swing of Othorak's blade. Before the Vahki could counter or escape, Othorak jumped and drove his elbow deep inside the Vahki's chest. Sparks flew and a few unintelligible crackles escaped its maw as it powered down, permanently. Othorak took a moment to compose himself. "If the entire city wasn't already searching for me, they surely would be now. I must be quick, yet cautious." Othorak couldn't even hide the body. He took off, making his way deep into Le-Metru as quickly as he could while remaining stealthy and unseen. The alleys were his friend, and he clung to the shadows as he ventured towards his target: one of the many airship docking bays scattered throughout Le-Metru...

IC: Sans, Chutes "Follow that Ko-Matoran!" Sans steered his sled to the right, same as the Alpinist, hoping his two comrades would follow.

This Nynrah wreck is super spooky and super interesting btw

IC: Sans, Back to Square One "Howdy!" It was just as much a surprise to Sans as it was to the Matoran that he was back so soon. Instead of a blocked chute or scary monster, all he found was a run down room and a cute little lizard. Sans watched the two Matoran share more jerky, and listened as they discussed their next step. After a time, he interjected, "I'm not convinced," he declared. "That black-marked chute seems more clearly dangerous than the others, plus the Alpinist has yet to return. I say we go down the same chute he chose and meet up with him, then circle back here and try the third one together. This whole complex seems a bit broken; maybe we need to fix a few things before we venture into that hidden away chute." Sans pondered the meaning of the four unique boards. "If someone came before us, yet the disk was never found, I wonder what happened to them," he thought more nervously than he showed. Sans picked up a spare sled and positioned himself in front of the chutes, waiting for his companions to join him in catching up to the Alpinist. OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Onaku @Crimson Jester

IC: Sans. Lizard Tamer "Oh..." Sans was a little disappointed that the Lizard just sipped the water then rolled into the trash pile, disappearing. He kept the water controlled, though, as he hobbled across the room, disk in his main hand. He peered out the... hole in the wall to see he was above where he started. It was a little windy, so he stuck his head back inside, before making his way towards the stairs in the room. They led to a ladder, which seemed innocent enough, and was pointed down back towards the starting area. With no other observations to be made, Sans released his control over the water, which splashed across the floor, and started descending down the ladder, leaving his sled in this exiting area.

IC: Sans, Chute Platform Sans landed his exit from the tube with grace. A heroic dismount was practically a prerequisite for being a toa, and becoming a Turaga didn't mean he forgot his skills. "This disk didn't really help, I guess..." Sans realized. Still though, he clung tight to it in his strong hand, while his off hand dragged the sled behind him. Expecting some wild Rahi, all he found was a lizard, trying to satisfy its hunger, or maybe thirst? Sans noticed it was scouring some trash in a side of the room, yet there was also a bucket more in the middle collecting a slow drip of water from the ceiling. The ceiling seemed to even be sagging a bit. "Better not cause a deluge, huhuhuhuhu," Sans thought. He dropped the sled and outstretched his hand, and the water above starting flowly smoothly from the crack, forming a snake-like tentacle winding through the air as he wound it towards the lizard, where it then encircled the small Rahi. Sans watched in smug anticipation to see if the small critter would take a cute sip, or just flee. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator

Love the puzzles! Thanks again for putting so much thought into all this!

OOC: sorry for the slow response @Unreliable Narrator IC: Sans, Green Chute Welp, Sans was a bit relieved that there were no spooky monsters or a wall of spikes awaiting him at the end of this chute. Instead, a simple intersection. He noticed the Alpinist had followed his lead and plunged into a chute of his own. They even nearly touched each other, the chutes tangled so close. Sans came to an intersection before the Ko-Matoran, and with only a moment, considered his choice. "Might as well stay red," Sans decided, and turned his board right, down the red-marked chute