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Burnmad

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  1. IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water Something about the Toa's words piqued Ollem's interest. Though still suspicious of this strange figure called Kas, the promise of information seemed plausible enough that the Matoran was willing to go along with it. For better or worse. "Very well, then." He glanced at Mahrika for approval, and when she did not protest, he pulled his weapon from his hip. Taking aim at the chains which anchored the Ta-Toa in place, he pronounced his judgement: "Toa Kas, I hereby commute your sentence. Be wary that you do not make me regret this decision... and prepare for a rough landing." He began to fire, round after round slamming into the links at high speed. Sparks and shrapnel flew from the impact points, and the air was filled with the sound of the gunshots, echoing inside the enclosed space of the temple. OOC: In case anyone had forgotten that Ollem has a gun. @Harvali @Unreliable Narrator
  2. IC: Providence - Dead Forest "Myself and my companions are more than capable of defending ourselves, should the goodwill afforded with your presence run dry," Providence assured the strange Mesi. "In fact, if it makes you more comfortable, I have a fair number of specifically non-lethal tricks under my sleeve." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian @Vezok's Friend
  3. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann Carrying Stannis out of the secret garden, Barius took a moment to compose himself before he opened the door to the hallway where their companions waited. As the door abruptly swung inward, those who had been waiting outside it could catch a brief glimpse into the room, though their eyes would more likely be on Barius, who had Stannis draped over his shoulder. Eyes unfocused and rapidly dilating, and face fixed in an uncharacteristically neutral expression, the lot might have suspected that combat had occurred between the two, were it not for the fact that neither Toa nor Skakdi bore any fresh wounds. Barius had enough wits left about him to shut the door behind him, preserving his secrets from prying eyes. Though, he did not have enough to remember to lock it. OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Conway @Sparticus147 @Crimson Jester @Nato the Traveler @Unreliable Narrator
  4. IC: Barius - His Own Head / Fort Nektann I drift in and out of consciousness for a time as I converse with the woman. It is a strange conversation, made stranger by the fact that I seem to be having it without speaking aloud. Nonetheless, it is quite pleasant, though I remember being quite frustrated for parts of it. I do not remember all of it right now, but that is alright: It feels as if beneath the words I exchanged with the woman, there was also an exchange of feelings, which was far more important and more lasting than the verbal portion of our interaction. Eventually I find myself no longer in the endless void where I had been floating previously. The world spins around me, as if I am the center of the universe. Stretching my hand out in front of my face, I see it as a mere outline, which is filled with bones, blood vessels, nerve endings, ligaments and tendons. My vision power is on and out of control - at one moment the hand fills my sight, and at another I am zoomed so far out that it feels as if I am seeing from outside myself. I might normally be panicked by such a development, but in this moment I am calm. After all, why should I be concerned? The entire universe is in harmony with me; nothing could harm me in this state. The couch beneath me has transformed into a bed, one which I slowly recall as having been in my new room. I do not recall how I got here, but I do recall that there was someone in this room with me. I also recall that we left three or so other individuals waiting outside the door, and it occurs to me that we had ought to reunite with them before they have been made to wait for too long. It takes me some moments to rise from my reclined position, as I recall how to control my body-- with greater attention to the intricate details of it than ever before. When I am on my feet, I walk, like a teetering Skaklet, towards the secret chamber that we had earlier revealed. How long ago was that, I wonder? Seconds, or centuries? I find my companion, my dear, dear friend, Stannis, laying in the late Boss' garden. He seems to be having a riveting discussion with some of the foliage. I set a shaky hand on his shoulder, and prepare to scoop him up, muttering my apologies to the plant I am depriving of its conversation partner. "Hey, we shouldn't leave your, uh, friend waiting." My voice echoes inside my head, and I grin at my own eloquence. OOC: @EmperorWhenua IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad seemed confused as the ritual progressed; the creation of the Kraata and subsequent infection of his mask was not what he had come to expect from a Desecration ritual. Nonetheless, he could not say that he did not feel newfound power rushing into him. He reached out and set a hand upon a dead tree limb that protruded from the swampy waters beside him-- at his touch, it shattered with an explosive crack!, blowing the log into several pieces in a shower of splinters. This would indeed help him defeat Skakdi. Turning his attention to his exhausted patron, he looked around awkwardly. She wasn't injured, so there was little he could do but to stand guard while she recovered. "I am pleased with this power," he said. It was, essentially, a 'thank you'. OOC: @Sparticus147 IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water The Onu-Matoran frowned, exasperation evident upon his face. "Where is your home, and how do you intend to get there? Moreover, what will you do when you arrive?" If you arrive, he corrected himself in his head. OOC: @Harvali @Unreliable Narrator
  5. IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad stared silently as Apex approached him and asked him her question. He had known since he had met the Aspect that this moment would come; it was an inevitability of dealing with her kind. Whether the Aspect in question viewed the worm as a gift or a chain, anyone who committed themself to fraternizing with the darklings was bound to have a Kraata foisted upon them at some point or another. He had refused them at various times in his life. Though they came with undeniable power, the Tiokaha knew that they brought on dire penalties as well, not the least of which was a lifelong bond to the Aspect who birthed the slug in question; a bond which he felt was invariably unequal, more alike to servitude than kinship. And yet, in this moment, he could not find it within himself to refuse. With the arrival of these new legions of Toa, Matoran, and various other species that occupied the head to the north, vengeance against the Skakdi was within reach. Unlike with the abomination that had contacted him the other day, he would not hesitate in accepting Apex's offer. After all, better the devil you know than the devil you don't. "I will accept," he stated simply, meeting the Aspect's bestial eyes. OOC: Morangad is ready to get slugged. @Sparticus147
  6. IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water He scowled up at the Toa. The Administrator was making what sounded like fairly dire accusations of him - even if Ollem couldn't entirely understand them - and he didn't even really seem to be denying them, so much as attempting to deflect and distract from them. The bit about transferring power from the few to the many sounded nice, but he was being kind of vague about it. And going from the Administrator's words, it seemed like he had been part of the 'elite few' himself. "You don't seem like a good Toa to me," Ollem challenged. In his experience, the term seemed oxymoronic. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Harvali
  7. IC: Barius - His Own Head I float within an endless void, alone. My thoughts are muddled and my memories a hazy fog. I know that I am Barius. I know that Barius is a Skakdi. I know that Barius is strong. Very strong. I know many things about Barius, things which come together to form an overall sense of who this person called Barius, who I am, is. But there is also much which I fail to recall. And sitting here, dazed, I feel that there is much which I have never known, which is also a part of Barius. Of me. As I experience these thoughts, I notice that the void I swim within is no longer empty. I now rest within an oasis of existence, within this stretching expanse of nothing. Not unlike the oasis in which Fort Nektann, and with it, Barius-Who-I-Am, resides. Most notably, I am lying on a couch. It has been a long time since I have seen a couch that was not ratty. Beneath the couch there is a rug. It is made of woven fibers, rather than rahi hide. Also resting upon the rug is a good chair, which is occupied by a Skakdi woman. She is dressed like a Warskak, but she does not hold herself like one. She looks like my mother. I find this irritating. She speaks. "It looks like you're undergoing substance-enhanced introspection. Would you like help?" Her voice is calm and warm. She sounds like my mother. I find this irritating. I would like help. I try to sit up to glance at my surroundings. My abdomen pains me. "You don't have to worry. It's just us in this space. No one will see you being vulnerable." I frown, and remain silent. I cease my attempts to sit up. "Good," the woman says. "Just relax. You don't need to be tough right now." I am tough, I want to say. Before I can, she is already replying: "Toughness is not an inherent quality of one's physical being, but a social role which is sometimes performed. You have no one here to impress, and therefore you have no need to be tough right now." I am silent for a time. I allow myself to sink into the couch, muscles relaxing. The void above me is now filled with tiny pinpoints of light, which twinkle in rhythm with the universe. OOC: Barius' therapy session, part 1.
  8. IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad accepted the disk graciously, nodding to the Matoran that had offered it to him in silent appreciation. As the group left him, injured Matoran in tow, he stowed the Kanoka on his back, before turning and trudging through the muck for one final task. The other presence still pulsed weakly in the darkness, its calm acceptance now indistinguishable from barely-conscious delirium. Reaching the presence, he saw now that he had been correct. This one was another Matoran, impaled upon a branch that the storm - or the Tahtorak that brought it - had thrown to the swamp floor. Their entire torso was pierced through; there was no way even a group of the most talented and well-equipped healers could save this one, and they had come to terms with that fact many minutes ago. Walking up beside them, he grabbed their hand and squeezed tightly, so that their fading consciousness could actually register the sensation. I'm sorry this happened to you, he communicated wordlessly. The Matoran's thoughts didn't change much. Their response was nothing more than a weak uh-huh. They couldn't seem to formulate actual words, even in their thoughts. Their breathing was shallow, but fairly steady. Their heartlight beat weakly and with ever-increasing slowness. Your friends are going to be alright. There was a delay as the dying being processed the words, and then a spreading sense of relief and comfort. They sighed softly, and Morangad thought they might have breathed their last right then, before they inhaled another small gulp of air. Face expressionless, the Tiokaha stayed there by their side, holding their hand until they passed. OOC: @Kal the Guardian
  9. IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad opened his eyes, after having given his location psychically to the rescue party that was coming down to recover the Matoran. He was surprised to see the familiar form of Apex in front of him, delicately lowering the injured being from their perch, closer to ground level. Or, well, water level. He nodded once, serving as both greeting and thanks. "Hold them steady," he said. "I've summoned help from the village above." He gingerly reached out and squeezed a hand of the injured Matoran, voice taking on a more tender tone. He detected fear in their mind, fear of the massive Aspect holding them in her maw. "You're going to be alright. The being holding you is here to help." Backing away from Apex and the wounded Matoran she held steady, he set himself to work, gathering materials from the surrounding area. There was plenty of driftwood and other assorted plant matter floating by him as the water that had surged upward with the storm flowed out of the area. Taking strong limbs and lashing them together, he started work on a makeshift stretcher that they could place the Matoran upon, once the healer had done all they could. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Sparticus147 IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water Ollem calmed himself, releasing a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Even though they were chained up against the ceiling, it still took a bit of courage to refuse the Toa's order and make demands of him. He turned to Mahrika. "Yeah, that could be." Bending down, he took another look at the code. "Looks like this code refers, specifically to a Great Disk of Regeneration, forged in Ga-Metru. At least, that's what the code refers to on Metru-Nui..." He straightened his back, brow furrowing. "Wait, weren't you unfamiliar with your disk when you found it? Strange that we'd find a code for one, here in this temple..." OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Harvali
  10. IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water The Onu-Matoran squinted as the imprisoned Toa continued to banter back and forth with the disembodied voice of the Administrator. "I'm not doing anything until someone tells me why there's a Toa chained up inside this temple. In detail." OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Harvali
  11. IC: Providence - Dead Forest "Well, now, we don't need to be mean to Tall Blue. He's been through a lot." Providence set a hand on Takadox's shoulder in support. "As for my reasoning for wanting to head underground, I would like to learn more about... their culture." He gave a heavily exaggerated wink to the warlord that only a blind person could have failed to notice. Thankfully, the person he was trying to conceal his motives from was, in fact, blind. OOC: @Vezok's Friend @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad began moving as soon as he detected the fading presences of the dying Matoran. He was no Toa, but a commitment he felt nonetheless to aiding the weak, as any decent being had ought to. Picking his way through the thigh-high (albeit receding) waters of the swamp, he carefully navigated towards the panicking presence. He had heard the thoughts of enough dying beings to know that the one which was at peace was already beyond saving. As he was moving, his mind reached out-- not to the wounded Matoran to which he was trudging, but to one of the presences lingering near the elevator, in the tree-bound village high above. Send the elevator back down immediately, he spoke directly into their head. The tone of his psychic command was calm, but firm. You are about to receive a critically injured Matoran. It was about this moment that he found the fading soul he was searching for. And it was also at this moment that an unexpected complication became apparent: The Matoran in question was suspended several bio off the ground, on a cluster of Banyan roots. They would be impossible to get to without climbing, and impossible to retrieve from their perch without a great deal of jostling. The Tiokaha could tell from the panicked thoughts of the Matoran that they had sustained a back injury, and he would need to avoid moving them roughly if they were to be saved. With a curse, he contacted the same mind in the village above as he had spoken to moments before. If anyone in your village has healing powers, make sure they're on the elevator. Either way, also send several able-bodied and dexterous beings who can follow orders and operate well under pressure. This Matoran will need to be kept still as they are moved. OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water He started as the pair heard the clanging of chains above them, and craned his neck upwards. To his credit, he didn't go invisible this time. He nodded swiftly at Mahrika's speculation, but he was frowning as he did so. "You're right, but this code would correspond to a Great Disk. No one's seen one of those in ages. People debate whether they even really exist." He gestured toward the Toa. "In any case, we can sort that out later." A Toa? Here? He wondered how long they'd been here. He wondered a lot of things, in fact, but there were only so many he could reasonably ask right now. A good one to start with: "Who are you?" The Toa had given a name - Kas - but that was unfamiliar to him, and said nothing. "How did you wind up here?" OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Harvali
  12. IC: Providence - Dead Forest Prov moved a hand to his chin in an over-exaggerated display of thoughtfulness, hmm-ing loudly as he did so. "Would you mind if we accompanied you?" He finally asked, seemingly oblivious to the horror the question would no doubt cause his two companions. He was curious about the underworld, and about Spiriah. Moreover, he figured that there was safety in numbers, especially when one of their number was a member of the Mesi that represented the most ubiquitous threat in the deeps. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Vezok's Friend @Kal the Guardian @Sparticus147
  13. IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water Ollem glowered at the controls, wracking his brain trying to figure out the solution to the puzzle. If it didn't have to do with the Three Virtues symbol itself, then it must have had to do with the individual virtues. At least, the Administrator seemed to be prodding them in that direction. He turned over the symbols in his brain, trying to find something to latch on to with any one of them, but he couldn't. So he moved on to examining the dials in front of him. Each of them had 8 discrete values... perhaps a combination? He tried entering in the number of stars in each constellation. Nothing. Then his mind turned to the words themselves... Unity... Duty... Destiny... ...That couldn't possibly be it... He turned the dials to the 5th, 4th, and 7th notches, respectively. OOC: @Harvali @Unreliable Narrator
  14. IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva The Tiokaha turned to face the voice that had called out to him. Bowing briefly, he thanked Beruv for her offer. "I am grateful," he said, "but I think I will spend the evening closer to the swamp floor. It causes me a great deal of distress to be among so many people." Even from the current distance, he could feel the many souls hanging far above him in the trees, weighing upon his mind with a constant pressure. Sleeping among such large groups always yielded horrid dreams. Standing there while he watched the elevator ascend, he probed around the swamp floor with his mind, seeking out anyone who might have been injured and in need of aid. OOC: @Kal the Guardian
  15. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann Barius huffed. "If it's been as long as you said, then you're many generations too late to hear any word of your friend." He seemed amused as the Toa, whom he had never once seen nor heard of before in his life, led him through the halls of the fortress he'd lived in for decades. He reckoned this Stannis fellow could have just been walking aimlessly, but to what end? Unless he had gone dotty in his old age, Barius was beginning to think that the Toa might actually be leading them somewhere. OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Conway
  16. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann He chuckled. "Dead, by his own spawn. I understand he earned it, but that was before my time. Spawn shared the same name. I took over after him, didn't care to change it." He did not mention that the most recent transfer of power he'd just referred to had occurred the day before. OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Conway
  17. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann "I'm Barius. This is Drukarus," he gestured to the purple GSR-Skak, "Corrivalis," now pointing towards the Mimic, "and Parnassus," he finished, clapping his Aspect companion lightly on the shoulder. "The rest aren't important enough for you to know their names." If the other couple of Skakdi that were part of the welcoming party took umbrage with that assessment, they didn't show it. OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Conway
  18. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann Barius squinted, face full of doubt, confusion... and the slightest hint of awe, that suggested he was considering, to at least some extent, the possibility that the Toa was being truthful. As Stannis gave a promise of twofold-repaid courtesies, his customary grin returned. "Don't know about the rest of that, but that last bit is what I like to hear." His mind was working as he waved his hand, the gesture indicating his permission - indeed, his compulsion - for the pair to enter the fortress proper. The first thing that jumped out to him about the Toa's claims was that, if something truly had been waiting for him here for literal millennia, without having already been plundered by the generations of Skakdi raiders that called the fort home, then it was bound to be very well-hidden. If he could find it, then that would lend a great deal of his credence to his story. And if his story was true, then Barius suspected he had many more to tell. "Tell ya what," he boomed, seeming satisfied with himself. "If what you're lookin' for really is here, then at least part of your payment can be in information." And if not, then you get booted out and I keep your ship, he finished in his thoughts. OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Conway
  19. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann The warlord's sneer lessened in intensity for a moment, as his attention was diverted by Drukarus' words in his ear, simultaneous with Parnassus' in his mind. The Toa was evidently from the giant head, if Drukarus knew of him. And given that Barius' Aspect patron was unfamiliar with this Korruhn, he, too, must have been from Metru-Nui. Barius, of course, had no reason to think that they did not have Aspects there. Of course, all of that background information, while interesting, had little bearing on how the interaction would go, he suspected. The pair that had wound up at his gates seemed to want to do business-- or else they were asking for favors, in which case they were barking up the wrong tree-sized Skakdi. He reckoned he ought to establish the nature of the interaction now. Putting on a more amicable grin (though with a sinister glint in his eyes), he elected to direct his words toward Stannis. Evidently he was enough of a big-shot to warrant speaking to; and, in any case, it was a good way to screw with the Aspect, who, as expected for one of his kind, was already posturing. "I don't recall anything being left here for pickup in recent history. Nonetheless, if it's here, we'd be glad to get it for you... provided we're given adequate compensation for securely storing it in the meantime." He finally turned his gaze towards Korruhn... then past him, towards the wreck of the airship they'd taken here. Then back to Stannis. "As for your ship, we'd also be glad to haul it out of the sand. Whether we fix it up afterwards depends on whether you can offer us greater value for the job than we'd get from ripping it apart for scrap." OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Conway
  20. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann Barius shifted his weight between his feet as the gate opened, finally revealing who their latest visitors were. A Toa and... an Aspect? Curious. The Skakdi's face assumed its natural state: A grinning sneer. "Well, well," he boomed, "ain't every day you see one of the exalted, do-gooding Toa, consorting with a demon. What brings such an odd pair to my gates?" As he spoke aloud, his mind reached out to his own patron. Parnassus, do you know the darkling? He thought. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Conway @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva "Wait!" The Tiokaha called out, making his presence known. He had missed his opportunity; he had hesitated, and so time and the circumstances had made his decision for him. The entity was reduced to ash... or, most of it was, anyhow. There remained in the pit a single remnant of its form; one which Morangad feared might hold greater power than its appearance belied. "Be careful with that," he called down to Sidra. He knew he was a stranger to her, but he hoped she would listen nonetheless. For some reason, having just been considering her murder, he now felt a sort of guilty sense of concern for her well-being. "I sensed an ancient and powerful presence within that abomination," he elaborated. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Kal the Guardian @Sparticus147 @Toru Nui
  21. IC: Barius - Fort Nektann Barius ground his teeth as the alarm was raised all around him. Quickly, he sighted the reason: A technologically-advanced airship, shiny and chrome, was speeding towards the general location of Fort Nektann. "One minute," he growled to the stranger with the hot rod, who had been approaching him, seemingly looking to speak with him. He craned his neck upwards, eye tracking the position of the bulbous airship passing overhead. His pupils dilated and his irises rotated as his vision power activated, magnifying his vision and allowing him to make out the intricate details of the approaching vessel. Curiously enough, he noticed two things: The airship only had a couple of people on it, and it only had one obvious weapon that Barius could make out. But that was all he could see before the ship made its dramatic crash landing near the front gates. Free scrap, he thought to himself. Drukarus said some words next to him, but their meaning was lost in the heat of the moment. All Barius made out was 'Barraki Pridak', a name that meant nothing to him. Already moving for the gate, he called out to the chaotic mass of Skakdi that was scrambling around him. "Be at the ready, but don't open fire! They don't seem hostile... yet." Now separated from the Herculean strength of his ACR, Barius was forced to wait for the gatekeepers to operate the mechanism and open the gate. During that long moment, he activated his vision power again, and took a better look at just who had dropped out of the sky and into his front yard. To his surprise, he saw what looked like a pair of Toa preparing to disembark. He noted the vessel's ramp lowering into the sand, just before the sound of grinding gears brought his thoughts back to the gate beginning to move before him. Behind him, a small group of Skakdi had materialized. They held wicked weapons at the ready, faces locked in tense scowls; they knew none of the information that Barius had discerned, and had to trust in his order to hold their fire, rather than simply blowing the airship to smithereens from a distance. Trust was not easy for Skakdi, least of all the Warskaks. OOC: We sure are getting a lot of visitors around these parts. @Nato the Traveler @Keeper of Kraata @Sparticus147 @Crimson Jester @EmperorWhenua @Unreliable Narrator IC: Providence - Dead Forest Providence clapped his hands together decisively. "Well, clearly we all have some interesting tidbits of knowledge to share with - or conceal from - one another. I, for one, am inclined to do so in a place where we aren't likely to be squished at any moment... I would be fine, of course, but it would be terribly inconvenient." He looked between each of the curious beings that had accumulated in this small clearing of the Dead Forest, waiting for one of them to suggest a better locale to continue their discussion. OOC: @Vezok's Friend @Nato the Traveler @Kal the Guardian @Sparticus147 IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad stopped in his tracks as new information was deposited into his brain by the presence, which withdrew as quickly as it had come. The dialectical process of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis began within his mind: The obscene act requested of him, and the coveted reward that would be offered in exchange, versus the conscientious reluctance, the pre-guilt that immediately made him sick to his stomach. It remained to be seen, what new force would be born of their union, and what it might drive the Tiokaha to do. Course changed, Morangad resumed his trudging through the swelling swamp waters. He was thankful that he wore such high waders. His new target was the pit in the center of the clearing, where a single figure gazed down at a hideous abomination that could give him everything he wanted. His mind reached out to hers, not touching it, but merely gazing at the loose ideas that escaped it; the surface thoughts that could give away so little, or so much, depending on the moment you were looking at them. Part of him hoped she would be thinking about murdering children. It would make his decision much easier. But mostly, he just wanted to glean some understanding of what the thing in the pit was. Exactly what kind of being had planted its seed of perdition within his brain? What kind of being was he considering doing business with? OOC: @Nato the Traveler IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water Time to try Mahrika's suggestion, then: Making the symbol for the Three Virtues, out of the three smaller constellations of the individual virtues. In order to do that, though, they would have to overlap somehow-- or else drastically change shape, which didn't seem possible given the controls available. Maybe they would line up when they were all in the right shape? They each seemed like they translated roughly to parts of the larger image, as Ollem remembered it. He tried turning the center dial until Duty's constellation - the one with a single star buffered on either side by nebulae - was crisp and in focus, taking up the center of the image behind the waterfall. The left dial he tried to make blurry and out of focus, so that the six stars orbiting together would look more like the single blob that occupied the center of the Three Virtues symbol. The right dial he also made roughly in focus, somewhere in size between the other two, so that the two stars would orbit around the central blob while remaining inside the bounds defined by the pair of nebulae. OOC: @Harvali @Unreliable Narrator
  22. IC: Barius - Approaching Fort Nektann As the landmarks which surrounded the canyon where Fort Nektann was nestled rose on the horizon, so too rose Barius' spirits. They were nearing their destination, and after the great tribulations he had overcome the previous day, he was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to relax, unwind, and heal up. Moreover, he was quite looking forward to some redecorating. But before he could get to the things he wanted to do, there were a few irksome chores that he needed to deal with. Firstly, he had to explain the change in leadership to the Warskaks that had stayed behind to keep the home fires burning. Second, he had to find out what this new Skak in the hot rod beside him wanted, and either grant it to him, or take his car and turn him into Shagrak bait. Exactly which option he took depended on what the stranger wanted, and what he had to offer in return. Thirdly, and finally, he had to deal with the other thorn in his side. Drukarus. He had invited the foreign warlord into his ranks in order that the Warskaks - and particularly Barius, as their leader - could benefit from his strength, but that didn't mean he was any less wary of the threat that the purple Skakdi posed to his authority. He'd already dug himself a bit of a pit by asking to be made Grime's keeper, of all things, but Barius wanted to really cement his subservience. Make sure everyone knew Drukarus' place, especially Drukarus himself. As the convoy of ACRs and war rigs began to slow down, in order to merge into a single stream filtering into the canyon, Barius' mind raced with ideas of cruel initiation rites he could put the Skak through. Brand his flesh? Snip his spines? Make him spend the night in the sand worm pens? But alas, his better judgement protested: Best not to push your luck. The process of breaking him would have to start off mild and progress slowly, lest the cur take the initiative to try something while the new warchief was still injured. Thus it was that his arrival at the gates of the settlement found him still struggling to think of a hazing ritual that wasn't too cruel. He made a mental note to put the task off until later, and deal with more pressing matters first. To that end, his colossal, armored hands braced against the gates, and pushed them open. Normally it would have taken at least one Skak on either side to work the mechanism that moved the massive slabs of metal, but in his ACR, Barius moved the twin plates of steel with ease. With the gate out of the way, Barius strode confidently through, heedless of the alarmed expressions of the Skakdi on guard. Shouting loudly enough to be heard over the cacophony of vehicles that were slowly rolling up behind him, he postured toward a growing crowd of onlookers that were emerging from the fort proper. "It sure is good to be home again," his deep, bass voice rumbled. "I reckon you all heard the roars of my new pet, yesterday evenin'. But I suppose some of you are bound to be surprised that I'm the one holdin' the leash. A word of advice: Keep it to yourself. I'm gonna do you all a favor, and pretend like every soul in this fort knew in their bones that I'd be the one in charge, by time this party returned." Not a soul said otherwise; all had feared the authority of Boss, and so had every reason to fear his successor as least as much. Perhaps someone might have thought about trying something, had they known the extent of Barius' injuries, but the red desert sands caked the front of his ACR, and hid his wounds for the time being. And so, as Barius walked his armor back to the garage it had set out from the previous morning, silent submission marked the assumption of his office as ruler of Fort Nektann. The procession of vehicles continued to follow behind him for some time, filling the garages with the rigs most in need of repair, while the rest were parked out in the sand, albeit still within the walls of the ramshackle settlement that was Fort Nektann. While Barius was stepping out of his ACR and onto the garage floor, he was pleased to see the E Street Wagon roll up beside him. He gave the car a once-over, before roughly pulling the driver out of his seat. There wasn't anything wrong with her, he just wanted to spook the kid. For giggles. "Good job," he praised him, patting his shoulder with enough force to bruise. "Go take the rest of the day off. By which I mean, go practice sparring with someone, because you've earned a spot in the next raid." He grinned as the startled young Skak rushed off to comply. It was good to encourage the youths every now and again. Now, where was that stranger with the hot rod...? OOC: The Warskak raiding party has arrived back home to Fort Nektann. No, the name isn't changing. @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Keeper of Kraata @Conway @Unreliable Narrator
  23. IC: Barius - Amid the Warband, Northern Wastes Barius blinked, jaw working as he considered the stranger's words. Few sought out the hidden site of Fort Nektann; he reckoned this one must have been seeking trade? He did not seem particularly threatening, most of all because he was only one Skakdi. Further, it seemed unlikely that he would so readily give out that information, if he had anything nefarious in mind. Ultimately, he did not respond to the unknown Skak with anything more than an idle nod. In his mind, he replied to Parnassus: No clue. OOC: @Conway @Sparticus147 IC: Providence - Dead Forest Prov's demeanor quickly changed, all traces of ease vanishing from his posture as the new Mesi mentioned a Tahtorak. He hadn't heard or seen any sign of a Tahtorak! Had that happened while they had been in the ruin? "Goodness, that's alarming news." In spite of himself, he began scanning the horizon. He knew that it would be impossible to miss an approaching Tahtorak, but nonetheless, he couldn't help but search his surroundings for signs of its presence. The conscious action did help settle him somewhat. "Well, if you're headed that-a-ways," he said, gesturing towards the way he and his companions had come, "you won't find anything but a looted temple and a whole lot of volcanic ash. I guess you could hide in the temple. If there's a Tahtorak about, I might be tempted to join you for a while." He was uncertain whether 'a while' might amount to a few hours or a few years. His considerations on this subject were interrupted as a curious, stout being approached, accompanied by what seemed like a smaller version of itself. After it asked the group what its purpose was, Providence could only sit in stunned silence. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Vezok's Friend IC: Morangad - Le-Metru Nuva Morangad stopped dead in his tracks, long before reaching the village proper. It was as if he had walked into a solid wall of anguish. Was this coming from the people of the village? It seemed too localized, too concentrated, and altogether too unified to be the disparate emotions of many different beings. But he had no time to consider this, as some foreign presence made itself known within his mind. As a Tiokaha of the Muur mark, he had a very long lifetime of experience with outside influences attempting to gain entry to his mind. Accordingly, he had developed both a fair talent for estimating the relative power of another psionic, and a number of strategies for how best to deal with such beings. This entity that was now digging through his mind seemed to be inspecting his memories at the moment; he was content to allow it. Briefly closing his eyes, he began the meditative process of partitioning his mind-- separating the conscious from the unconscious, the guiding will from the reflective part of the self. He would focus his concentration on protecting his current thoughts - which were presently concerned with how to react to the peculiar circumstances in which he found himself - and leave his subconscious thoughts and his memories of his past for the perusal of the entity. Though not practiced in some time, the tactic was well enough ingrained into him to be completed in moments. Opening his eyes again, he resumed his trudging through the swamp, headed towards the clearing where the village was nestled. As he passed through the treeline, his worst fear became real: The source of the storm, and of the aura of agony that pervaded this entire region of the swamp, was the hulking figure of the Tahtorak. Perhaps more frighteningly, he got the distinct impression that the Tahtorak which he was now looking upon with horrified awe, was not the thing invading his thoughts. Impotently, almost as an afterthought, he gripped the spear on his back. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Nato the Traveler @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water "Maybe," Ollem replied. "Though it's impossible to say for certain, until we figure out what these other dials actually do." He continued to fiddle with them. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Harvali
  24. Barius - Amid the Warskak Convoy, Northern Wastes Within his ACR, Barius grinned, tickled by the demeanor of the strange Skakdi behind the wheel of the hot rod. A plate in the front of the ACR flipped down, exposing his face to the harsh wind and biting sand. "We return to our fortress in the north," he shouted back, barely audible over the wind and war rigs. "We have matters to attend to before our next raid." The answer was vague, but he didn't want to spill too much info before he learned a bit more about the other Skak. OOC: @Sparticus147 IC: Providence - Dead Forest Providence made a show of looking the Mesi up and down - though the eyes in his faceplate were purely decorative. "We could ask the same question of you. To find one Mesi on the surface is odd enough, but now I run into a second? Curious indeed. Yet, you did ask first, and so I suppose the laws of propriety compel me to answer if I wish to be answered in turn." He gestured to his companions. "We seek adventure, you see. And if we happen to collect a heartlight in our way, all the better!" It occurred to him that this might be an alarming digression. "Of course, we would only take the heartlight of one who first sought to do us harm," he reassured,, smiling very unconvincingly. OOC: @Nato the Traveler, @Sparticus147, @Vezok's Friend OOC: @Unreliable Narrator Morangad is approaching Le-Metru Nuva, and his psionic abilities are always active. I leave it to you to introduce him to the scene, in case anything interesting happens as a result of that fact. IC: Ollem - Ruins of Water The Onu-Matoran played with the left and right dials, turning them individually - and with caution this time - until he could observe what their effects were. While he was doing so, he mulled over the Administrator's fawning. If the disembodied voice's speech since their entering this temple had not been similarly tripping over itself to praise and exalt them, he would have been certain that the entity had just been sarcastic. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator, @Harvali
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