EmperorWhenua

IC Leklo & Stannis | Kini-Koro “Toa Leklo?” Stannis greeted cautiously from the ajar doorway. The studious former Alpinist looked up from his iStone and let his eyes adjust to the light change. His abode was dark, windowless, and only the only illumination came from the sparse blinking specks of blue from his tablet’s charging stand on the bedside table and the tablet in his hand. He’d been like this for what seemed like days at a time, leaving only long enough to catch up on the happenings around Kini-Nui, snag more protein snacks, and swap downloads of books to his iStone before retreating to his little hovel. He was sociable for Ko-Matoran standards when he was outside, though seemed to prefer the meditative solitude of his own company quickly enough. “Yes? Who is?” he said, not quite sure who was standing at the door from the nebulous shadow that was all he saw, but it soon came into focus. “Oh… Stannis. I heard you came into town. Come on in.” He stirred to turn on a lightstone lamp and flipped it to a bright setting for his company before Stannis put his hand up. “A bit dimmer, if you please. I rather like the darkness, myself.” “Sure,” Leklo said, obliging and changing it to a dull orange that cast a haunting moody glow that scarcely reached the far corners of the house's confines. “I understand you’ve been mourning for Korruhn,” he plied gently while he slowly moved to the center of the hut and sat on the floor. “I came here to help you.” Leklo’s eyes perked up for a second before settling down in resigned sadness, then flickered to anger stoked by a month of being stonewalled in his personal quest to unravel the mystery of that fateful morning. People, it seemed, did not care for his friend--even Atamai, who was born to toahood with them in Dume's office and was present for Korruhn's inky fate, seemed to have no concerns about the former cartographer, and whenever Leklo had asked others for help in solving the case of Korruhn's death, or to mourn with someone other than himself, the replies were almost always a mixture of confusion or ignorance. People did not harbor any care for the fallen toa or knew of him well enough to miss him, so it had been a long and lonely month for Leklo even though he was surrounded by fellows and allies. “Help with what, Stannis? I don’t have a need for a priest, that time is passed. Kor is gone and I’m trying to find out why, so unless you can perform wizardry to bring him back I don’t need your consolations or sympathies.” Leklo had become too accustomed to apathy to realize the old man was offering exactly what he was looking for all along: Hope and aid. The elder sadly admired Leklo's resolve, seeing the flickers of frustration and determination in his eyes. “Gone though he may be, he is not departed,” Stannis said. “What?” “He was very much living when I last saw him, and I can assure you that was after whatever happened on the beaches. But before I say anything further, I implore of you, tell me what events transpired. tell me your story so i may know where to explain what I know in kind.” His spirits momentarily buoyed with optimistic anticipation of some news about his friend, Leklo launched into telling his own version of events. “We went to the Ko-Suva first, then uncovered a deep ruin that had a series of puzzles and a locked door labeled NUVA. We came out, met with Brother Ultan who was sent by Sans to find us, and took speeders to Metru-Koro. It was in flames after an attack so we tried to go to Metru Nui to fight Pridak directly. Would we be successful? Who knows. Turns out you beat everyone to it. Heh. “We found Toa Atamai fighting a hulking titan with an axe near the shore and interceded, the three of us. The titan was thrown into the sea, and then Korruhn fell in, too—I’m not sure why. They both came back out transformed, the titan into a monstrosity and Korruhn, he came out looking darker than before, with eyes on his arm and a sinister look about him. Suddenly there were ghosts, and I had lost my weapons in the fight so I ran. I still don’t know how to use my elemental powers, so I wanted to urge them out by fear alone. I ran from the ghosts, and when I turned around to try and fight them there was a loud noise. It was an explosion of blackness so utterly profound it made the nighttime air look bright as day. When I finally could look around there was no Korruhn, just a dark soot on the ground and daggers of obsidian radiating from the scene of the fight. Atamai had used all six great discs to freeze the titan in time stasis, and then someone, an Aspect of Makuta, arrived and cryptically did… something to the titan. I’m not sure what. Korruhn was gone, though. We think—thought—the soot was all that’s left of him. “And then Ultan and I took one of the discs back to the temple, used it on the door, and I became whatever I am now. I still don’t know how to use my powers, though.” “The titan you speak of is named Axonn,” Stannis said. “He was a powerful warrior in the Order of Mata Nui, and an arbiter of Truth. This Aspect of Makuta, what was it like?” Leklo harrumphed at himself, processing the new knowledge given before answering. “It was… big, and lumbering. Slow. No name was given, but it was cryptic as all ####.” “It’s name is Tuakana,” Stannis said, a slight worry crossing his face as he considered the ramifications of the old one having Axonn in his possession. “Cool. So now tell me what you know,” Leklo pressed. The old wizard bobbed his head from one side to the other for a moment as he gathered his thoughts first, then began telling his part of the story. He started much like he had to Vulimai and the others, narrating things in summary and without too much detail. He mentioned the Archives and running into Korruhn there, and that there was a certain insidious affliction that flowed in his veins and connected him ever more sharply towards the realms of Shadow. “Korruhn said he had gone to somewhere called ‘the Far Shore.’” “I know of that place!” Leklo said, excitedly, a fire in his eyes as he connected the first two dots of many. “There’s a portal to it in the temples here. Someone claiming to be Nuju stands at the gate.” “Korruhn made mention of Nuju several times,” Stannis added before continuing. He spoke then of their departure from Metru Nui’s shambles, their flight northward whereupon they saw the remains of the ruined beach fortress, and then the sudden and mysterious vanishing of Korruhn. “This, I believe, was at the hand of another certain Aspect of Makuta.” Leklo ventured a guess. “Tuakana?” “No, another one, though no less pernicious than the other,” he said with a shake of the head; those two dots would not connect for some time yet and there was no reason to divulge Miserix's identity it Leklo at that point, especially since it seemed nobody there had any idea who she was yet based on indications from Knichou and Atamai. “Do you know where Korruhn is now, then?” Leklo asked. “I do not know for certain, brother, but I do have my predictions. Tell me this, though: Is it your wish to find him and save him from terrible fates?” “Absolutely,” Leklo confirmed with zeal. “Whatever has befallen him, I cannot think he is beyond hope, and if he is well and truly alive then I will do everything I can to recover him.” “That’s what I thought,” the old wizard intoned. “You see, I came here to offer my help in finding our wayward friend. But to do that... I will need your assistance, too.”

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "To find Leklo," the wizard said, "and inspire hope where there has been none." @BULiK

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "What a charming girl," he said as he walked into the village proper again to look for Leklo. "She's traumatized, but no more than you, or Kanohi, or Skyra." He paused midstep, rethinking his remark. "Well... maybe not Skyra."

IC Yumiwak | Irnakk's Tooth "Yes... I can feel their minds," I said to Ysocla. I was stick dazed from the vision and shook my head to clear the brain fog away, but it only kind of worked. I accepted Ysocla's hand and enthusiastically leaped back to my feet and holstered my weapon; there was no use in having it out just yet until we faced an opponent made of flesh and armor. "Thanks. How fared Korio and Zataka?" @pokemonlover360

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "There are several pieces of technology and science in my airship. You cannot have the vessel itself, mind you, but if there are items inside it that you would find useful in your village you may have them. It is what I have to offer."

Banned.

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "When you get to my age you don't measure time in days anymore," Stannis said, giving Knichou a staying gesture with his hand. "It's been far longer than that."

I like your style.

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "The last time I saw Sorilax..." Stannis started. He wanted to say something about knowing the other Aspect since he was a puff of air, but he wasn't wholly sure it would be prudent--nor was he absolutely confident that was indeed the case. The name of Sorilax was evident in places of power, found in certain histories and records lifted from Dume's records, and there was a niggling feeling in the back of the elder Aspect's mind that he should indeed know him--if, indeed, this was the same Aspect of Makuta Sorilax from yore. "... he was preparing for a journey and was well. We've regrettably been out of touch for a while." It was a lie, of course, but a courteous one. To the best of his knowledge and understanding it may as well have been true, and with the confidence of a practiced charlatan performing the same trick he'd done for the thousandth time he spoke in an utterly serene demeanor devoid of the telltale signs of deception. There was a sincerity to his tone that could sway anyone to thinking he said a fact as grounded in reality as that water made things wet.

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro He smiled, the way librarians smiled when they uncovered a long lost favored book on the shelves that they hadn't seen in decades. "I didn't say? Sorry. Sorilax."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "Toa Viltia," the old toa said, "I would be interested in doing some trading with you as well, and unlike my fellow Knichou here it's not my style to to brag about the size of my guns." Clearly, he was mistaken in his previous assessment about the two of them in thinking Knichou was making a new friend in her—an honest mistake. She was reacting to inquiries about her village with paranoia and concern, traits that would have come from trauma in the past. She knew the dangers of the Flu Swamp well enough and didn't need protection from its latent dangers, rather she was seeking to safeguard the mystery like it was life or death to her. And perhaps, in her mind, it was so. "You and I have friends in common, and any friend of his is an acquaintance of mine," he lied genteelly. "May I have the pleasure of trading with you?" @Kal the Guardian @BULiK

Absolutely. The only reason I never left completely was because of the RPGs, but even that has become a cliquey mess of a microcommunity that I don't always feel I belong to, either. Some people never grew out of their power play phases and took this place far too seriously. And I'll admit, there were times I was among them—I'm no saint. Now the toys we gathered here for are extinct, but the egos never died.

ye

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro He reflected on Kanohi’s reaction; some knowledge was too much to bear at once, no matter how truthful it was. He drifted closer to Knichou and Viltia, perhaps to investigate if either would be the subjects of the aforementioned vision, or at least if either knew a weaver. @BULiK @Kal the Guardian

IC Yumiwak | Irnakk's Tooth When I went into the Nightmare Walk I was accompanied by my clan-family and Zataka, all of us as close together as if we were bound by threads so as to not spread away from one another. There was an urgent sense of danger and excitement in all our hearts as we scampered in, the exhilaration of decimating the Mesi’s ARC and defensive promontory still giving a spirited pep in our steps, and mine was the most peppy of all. I was being pulled into the vast doors like a fish on a line, charging forward to collect my family’s birthright and destiny. My birthright. My destiny. This was the culmination of generations of work and I was determined to manifest that greatness so that I could finally bend Xakaz under my heel in the perfect image my ancestor’s wrote about. Our principles of Purity, Power, and Skill would be realized on a grand scale at long last by my hand, with the power of a great beast as my herald. I clutched my satchel of ancient scrolls that served as my guide in this devilish realm with one hand and fingered the pommel of my Tormenter carbine with the other, earnest to see this through at last at any cost. We’d managed to get through the first few turns in the caves as a group, but when I turned around to cheer us onward… there was nobody there. Footsteps that had previously echoed just at my back weren’t there anymore, the air had grown cold and still, and despite suddenly feeling lonely there was a niggling feeling that I was not at all alone in the dark. I slowed my pace at once and instinctively stilled my breath to listen to my surroundings carefully, and my heartbeat began to pound with anxious rapidity. The spines at the back of my neck stood up as I felt a malevolent tendril touch my mind, tearing through my mental shields with the ease of a sharp dagger through a linen curtain. Keen on narrowing down angles of attack I reached for the cave walls to keep to the slight safety the surface could provide and an orientation point from which to steer my bearings. I steeled my nerves, straining to fight off the presence that peeled at my layers effortlessly, and shut my eyes to fend off the oppression in my head. Welcome. I did not feel welcome. Ah, a first timer. Do you know what you are afraid of yet? You will. ... The world rocked back and forth, like I was on a ship. I could smell the salt in the air. Focus, Yumi! I thought, knowing I was not on my boat but in the caves around the volcano, reminding myself of that fact with each quickened breath I took, but everything I sensed around me was being betrayed by what I knew. I’m in the caves. I’m in the caves. Cries from far-off birds pierced the air. Gentle creaks of tugged rigging and flexing wood sang with the rocking of the floor. Open your eyes. I’m in the caves. My hand felt the stone wall behind me for reassurance, some sensory confirmation that I was where I knew myself to be, but it was not the warmth of gneiss my fingers played upon but a wooden mast worn smooth with the patina of friction and weather. I opened my eyes. The sky was bright and blue, and all around me was open ocean. The ship I found myself standing on was not my Panda II but certainly very much like it, and felt as though it was the ship mine was modeled after as an imperfect replica, down to the balustrades and great sails. I glanced around hysterically, still not sure what was happening at all, still knowing subconsciously that this was not real, that I was in a cave, for crying out loud. There were no crew in sight, just myself, pressing my back against the great mast with the anxious fear that if I let it go, somehow everything would fall apart and death would take me. Voices stirred behind me, and I stole a glance over my shoulder to see the ship mates at work heaving lines and singing shanties in low dulcet tones between grimaced teeth. A pair of them looked much like myself, with armor adorned with crystalline plates and gold metalwork, and suddenly it dawned on myself what I was seeing. It was a memory, I told myself, one I barely could remember in lucidity but that resurfaced on some nights. “Yumiwak, get away from there!” the male figure scolded me, pointing at my hiding place against the mast. I looked at myself; I was but a child, deprived of the trappings of adulthood and sovereignty I’d treasure in later life. “They’re about to loose another sail so we can outrun the storm—it’s not safe to stay there, chisai'i ryuu.” My father, I thought in recognition as I slowly stepped away from the mast, enraptured by what I saw, then looked towards the other Skakdi beside her. My mother, Yusanorak. No. No. Not this memory. Not this one, I thought in aghast shock. I knew how this one ended, it was why I tried to hide it, to forget it, felt sick and in a cold sweat when I woke up after having it in a nightmare. The tug at the nape of my neck came back agin, gleeful at the torment it was exacting upon me. How utterly portentous that I would suffer a nightmare on this inauspicious walk. This was the memory of when they died. The skies darkened with a clap of thunder far off in the distance. Everything turned black again as the rain fell in buckets. ... —Music— My legs buckled and I stumbled awkwardly; there wasn't any avoiding it. The whole ship shook and shuddered as it was torn apart by the storm's greedy jaws, pulled asunder in chunks as it crumbled apart like a jigsaw puzzle being pushed off a table's edge, cascading bit by bit away from view and falling onto the floor in a discordant array. Crew all around me were tumbling about, some pulled asunder by waves that crashed on the sundering ship, others holding on to dear life as yet more fumbled with deploying the rescue shuttles. I frantically looked around again, crying out for my parents, trying to shout louder than the screaming winds and roaring ocean that thundered everywhere around us. I wiped at my brow, straining to keep my eyes clear from the rain that was already falling in dense sheets. The Tactical Panda was keeling more every second, tilting further and further the more it lost its mass to the unforgiving sea. It was only a matter of moments before it all slipped away. Finally, I found my parents. My father was rushing in between collapsing waves to release one of the launches. My mother was on the other end of the ship, authoritatively ordering the remaining survivors to give up their tasks and board the shuttle my father was working on. There were so few of them left altogether we wouldn't even fill the launch as a group. My father caught sight of me, too, and wasted no time in grasping my mom by the hand, pulling me towards them with their psionic powers, and giving me a reassurance of, "Thank the Golden, you're going to be okay." I was getting lost in the vision, I knew, but I was not afraid. I had nothing to be afraid of. This was not real, this was a dreamscape, history, I was— It happened as soon as my mom boarded the launch. The Panda, surrendering itself to the sea's vengeance, snapped in finality. A portion of the deck under my father broke under him, sending splintering wood and shards of crystal everywhere like shrapnel. Our launch lurched onto the water, splashing but remaining upright. I almost fell out of it. I screamed, loud, long, hard, yearning for a different outcome than the one I knew by heart but knowing it wouldn't come. The Panda slipped under the waves, and for an instant it looked like it would have taken my father along with its wreckage to the deep, but then—there! At the end of a length of rope! There he was! My mother and a crewman pulled the rope in like a winch while the others rowed hard to get away from the quickly sinking ship's wake. I cried. In the vision or in reality, it did not matter, the result was the same. Ahhhhhh... I see it now... We almost had him. They pulled the line in and he was nearing the launch's relative safety, only a few more heaves and it would be alright. I could see the light of his eyes. (.:Still there, princess?:.) The mast, the final vestige of the ship we knew and loved as our home and the very thing I had been holding on to for safety, had the last laugh. In its final act before fading away forever it slammed into the water right next to us. It almost killed us all, but it only took one casualty. I almost threw myself off the launch in a vain attempt to save him. My mother caught me, clutched me close, bonded with me. Our rages echoed off each other, melding together in a duet of pain. I shrieked, I wailed, projecting my emotions on the psionic plane for all to hear everywhere around me, the survivors, the fish, the ocean...my father... one blast of pure unabashed, unabated anguish, a simple cry of "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" So, it's loss... I blinked the tears away. The world was black again and I was back in the cave, and holding my hand mid-energy share was Zai. The ending of the nightmare, it seemed, was real. @Vezok's Friend @pokemonlover360 @Tarn @Nato the Traveler @Unreliable Narrator

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "Hi Skyra, I'm glad you're alive and well."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "I was there when Pridak and the others seceded," he said. "They did not leave because of the toa, they left because Mata Nui's hierophants and enforcers had enslaved the League's citizenry. Pridak and the others were given gilded shackles and palatial prisons, but their people were still mere work fodder to a god who did not care for their prayers. It was wholly within their rights to be stark raving mad at injustices inflicted by the ruling elites who governed from Daxia and Metru Nui. They reacted to the spears of their oppressors when they desired to rule themselves as truly free people. "... It was also wholly wrong for them to slay countless innocents on their crusade for justice. Matoran like you, Knichou, the villagers of Maru Nui, and so many others do not have to bear the guilt of a system of oppression. You knew not what you were part of. But you do now, and that knowledge can make us all stronger and better—for everyone—as we bear the responsibility to create a better future of our own devising... and not a god's."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "That is a theory," Stannis said, knotting his brows in consternation. Caedast inwardly tried to think hard on what they knew was true and what they had to surmise and assume. "True to your dread, there are unfortunately many things that support that theory, and one I personally believe to be true. Even if we do not have a history here, the Matoran people do... there's no denying that. I do intend to find out, however—mysteries are my speciality." He folded his robe and took his from his arm and over his shoulder instead. "But you are right about toa, Kanohi. We are flawed. So many toa are drunk with power but have so little wisdom, or know so little about what is right. Toa need help, often from themselves. They have been used as peacekeepers and enforcers of a divine will that wronged to so many others," he said, referring to the League, "and that changes people. I'm sorry that truth was revealed all too late."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro It seemed like much had changed for the Metru Nui refugees and the aged man listened quietly as Kanohi gave light to the details which had previously been missed by the other narrators. He was pleased to hear that Kanohi still received his visions; they were important glimpses into futures not yet revealed. Their meanings were likely lost on Kanohi or many other, but to the Wanderer they spoke far more than he could put to words. Already, it seemed, those futures were coming to pass bit by bit, and it assured Stannis' presumptions that Kanohi was rightfully placed as a leader of his fellows, using the knowledge from the things he dreamed to help those in need. It was difficult for him to say precisely why this was a good thing, and he was reticent to laud Kanohi's value in order to be kind to the traumatized Matoran's sensibilities and fickle self-worth, so he settled for doing only what was appropriate in the moment. "Good work," he said simply. The notes about Arkius troubled him, however, and a cloud of confliction settled on his mind about the wayward warrior. Arkius already possessed a reckless and stubborn personality, and if he became anything akin to a NUVA in the same vein as Atamai it was anyone's guess at what cost that power had come. While it was good to hear Arkius was still alive and well, he was not the healthiest of companions in the first place and an alteration to his bearing had the possibility for dire consequences indeed. Stannis made a mental note to check on his old friend in time. "Desecration of one's mask is not the same magic as the magic within the deep temples, and the changes are quite dissimilar," Stannis said, addressing the last of Kanohi's concerns with as much information he dared to provide in the moment without overwhelming or tipping off anyone. "The costs are different, and will vary depending on the Aspect's disposition and intentions. I am still unsure about Whisper's personality, but in regards to her motives..." he paused, choosing the right word for the sentiment, "I think your people are not threatened by them. You are right to seek out as much knowledge as possible before making a choice, just as it was right for Vulimai to ask me for counsel. Knowledge is never a bad thing to obtain, it's what you do with it afterwards than is important. Remember this."

Fake news!

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "Why, I suppose that would depend on your neural physiology as Nuparu and his patron was inspired to grant you," Stannis reasonably argued with a shrug. Stannis' countenance shifted in response to the other councillor's simpering, and his tone softened slightly to offer kindness where there was harsh rebuke before. "It is quite alright, my friend," he said, meaning every word. This was the very same little prophet who had seen horrific things unfold around him, being wholly unprepared for the tragedies that befell his home and then followed him to Metru Nui, and then further to Xa, yet never stopped offering his best and truest self to those around him. There was not a single part of Stannis' unbeating heart that could hold a grudge against Kanohi because of it—people like Vulimai and Knichou were carried the names of Builders, but they were Destroyers in their souls, and in Stannis' eyes of all among his companions the bashful seer was the truest among them. "It is not wrong to want to do the right thing, and in another time it would even be smart to take the fight to Aurax and wrest the Vahki from his control, but what is right one moment may not always be the smart thing to do. War distorts us all in different ways, traumas take their tolls, and we ought only to learn and grow as we experience life. That is a strength." Speaking of war trauma— Stannis thought sardonically, realizing too late that whatever he had said was likely lost in the reliving of an old shellshock memory cued by Skyra's shooting. The Kodak rounds flew into the air with lethal velocity, the loud reports from their firing quickly converting to dangerous whistles that heralded danger of an unpredictable sort. These were sounds altogether harmless in Skyra's mind's eye, her life as a shock trooper deadening her senses to their danger, but the sounds evoked real memories of warfare from a civilian's perspective in Kanohi. Stannis could see Kanohi's eyes dilate and glaze over as his mind drifted into a fog, how his muscles tensed with anxiety as they began to move almost all on their own in an effort to preserve. To preserve, Stannis recognized, but it wasn't Kanohi's own hide that he was trying to save... it was for Stannis'. “Get down!” Kanohi screamed, his vocal processor breaking into a shriek of static. The councillor threw himself onto the Wanderer. Had the terrain been even the effect would have been different, but Kanohi had lunged from ground only slightly higher than where Stannis stood on the slope, and consequently caught the toa of stone in the chest instead of the legs and threw him off balance, if only just. As Kanohi tackled into Stannis, the elder bowled over, falling onto his back and flinging his cloak down like a theatre curtain descending upon a scene, just as Kanohi sought to protect Stannis with his body the cloak guardedly wrapped the Matoran to shield him. Both beings fell in a heap, and there they stayed for a moment until the chaos was over. ... When they both came to and crawled from under the ashen cloak, Skyra had been all but banished and the scene had run its course. The committee called to order by Akiri Vulimai was being dismissed and people had begun to go their separate ways. For better or for worse, the Wanderer's knowledgeable counsel had swayed opinions. But not all, he thought, casting a glance again at Knichou. Hearts that beat with hot blood were much harder to persuade than others. The old cloak had been all but shrugged off the Wanderer's body when he fell with Kanohi, however, and he stooped down to scoop it off the green earth. He beat grassy clumps off of it, revealing fresh green stains on the back and a new ripped hole at the back of the neck. Thinking that perhaps it was time to finally have the tattered garment mended, he folded it over his arm like some unfolded bedsheet just as Viltia returned from the market and approached Knichou. "Thank you, Kanohi," Stannis said earnestly, looking down at his companion. "Are you alright?" @Harvali @Kal the Guardian @BULiK @Sparticus147 @~Xemnas~

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "Truly?" Stannis asked. His eyes drifted from Atamai to Kanohi and then to NU-8020S with a dismayed exasperated look to them. He didn't want to believe what he was hearing, but it seemed that he'd arrived to Kini-Koro at exactly the right day to bear witness to these misled proceedings. Destiny had a sense of humor, he thought. He'd never seen NU- before and was unaware of the unit's abilities, but he could tell it was different from the others. It didn't have the same obedient look that BO-1337-P had, or overt signs of specialism, but seemed to carry itself with the adaptability and sense of self reminiscent to the Kilo-9 unit that had cultivated a much more openminded perspective towards automatons in the Wanderer's mind than he held in the past. This unit, despite looking rather typical for most Vahki, was something different entirely from the others, otherwise Kanohi and Vulimai wouldn't treat it with any more deference than they would a peach. Stannis shook his head slowly. He saw what they were trying to accomplish; it was clear as day, and they were allowing their sentiments to get the better of them. He'd seen such a thing done before many times, always around times of war. "I find myself lamenting one of the great ironies of life," he said. He could almost imagine the rolling of eyes as it dawned on them that they'd elicited one of the old man's wise soliloquies. "Wars are started by people who wanted to prevent a war. So many conflicts throughout our history were begun in the name of peace, as though peace needed to be christened in blood and tears to be real, but peace has never lingered around... has it? Why? Because people are afraid. They fear what they don't know, what they don't understand, what they cannot control, and they want to attain a sort of comfort they never allowed themselves to feel before. Peace would be everlasting if only this, if only that, if only— - ... But it's not like that. If you incessantly chase after greener valleys you will die of exhaustion. "Aurax is not your friend, but he is also not your enemy now. The Vahki are not his pawns any more than Pridak was Mata Nui's, slaves until they choose to revolt; the sentiences of beings like Kilo-M9, BO-1337-P, and NU-8020S prove Nuparu's automatons can and will think of their own accord in time. You think you will be safe if you somehow destroy the Vahki, or co-opt their circuitry, or otherwise steal them away from Aurax, but it will not be so. It never is so. There is always another threat. You want my counsel? You requested my knowledge, beseeched for my assurances, and asked for my help—verbally or not—but you already have it. I will defend you all until I die, as I have always done, and have bled my own blood to offer the opportunity to do something other than fight the League of Kingdoms. And you would risk throwing the opportunity away." He sighed heavily, hating that he was witnessing a cycle of events repeat itself yet again, hoping that his knowledge and wisdom could prevent another stupidity from transpiring. He held no ill regard for the people around him—he knew they meant well, wanted to do good, were willing to fight for good reasons—but good intentions had bred vile fates a multitude of times before. He kicked his foot absentmindedly, knocking a few pebbles loose in the process and watching them roll away. "... You asked about Aurax. He is a man of fear and paranoia. If you strike at him and point fingers elsewhere he will not care where you point, he will blame what he knows. He would attack based on an emotional need... the same as why you would want to attack him." He glanced at Knichou for a flash before settling his eyes back to the ground. "I counsel against this raid."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro "Akiri, they want to risk war... for what?" he asked.

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro No hello again, no pardon me, no let me touch you with my gremlin hands, just... *grabby hands*. The old wizard did not push the akin away or rebuke her with an egotistical sense of superiority; Stannis could go and do as he willed, as he always had, and he was under no obligation to obey Vulimai as he was to obey Dume, but he was also in no position to protest her directness. Vulimai was a soldier at her heart and would run her village with an officer's rigor. For all anyone knew, they were still at wartime, the tranquility of the Kini-Nui valley notwithstanding. Stannis had known military people before, as was to be expected from a man famed as a warrior. More than half the Toa Maru were of that sort, with only Korero, Nakaii and himself as the men of faith and lore against Sulov, Oreius, Leah, and Reordin, and while the great irony was that Stannis himself loathed war and bloodshed he lived and breathed it, knowing many soldiers throughout his campaigns and coming to understand them in ways unlike many others. Vulimai's assertiveness in the moment could have been off-putting and offensive to another priest, but what saved her image in Stannis' eyes was the strong positive memories he had of those previous soldiers. He did not see the tyranny of Dume, the brusqueness of Helryx, or the militant domination of Orde in Vulimai's antics... only the image of his once-brother Sulov as he cared for his people. Stannis could not be angry at her. "I will go with you and tell you what you need to know," Stannis affirmed, pretending to be dragged away by Vulimai's insistent hand. And to Knichou, he playfully mouthed, "help me."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro There was a knowing glimmer in Whisper's voice that hinted that she was beginning to piece things together at long last, and that there was something much more to the Wanderer than just an old man with adjectivialisms of old and wise. She could feel the shadows at the corners of his persona, never in full view but always niggling behind veils, a darkness of half-truths and rationed knowledge, dodging easy truths with a savior faire of a borne politician despite that he disavowed roles of power. What yet remained unclear, however, was whether that darkness was scholastic in nature or intrinsic to the wizard. The answer to that mystery, as it were, was vital. He was just about to answer her with another obfuscating riddle when Vulimai approached the group. Stannis had a bad feeling yet another meeting with her was on his day's agenda. "You were right to ask for my knowledge, both of you," he said. "Wait. And you will see." To the sauntering akiri, he greeted her. "Vulimai, I must admit you're back sooner than expected." @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147