Nuju Metru

No, they'd kill you. These are wild rahkshi, not under the control of Makuta. They don't care about infection masks, only killing anything that enters their domain. Nice try, but that loophole doesn't exist. Another thing: while Rahkshi are NPCs that any player can decide to have appear/attack them in a post, the rules in Friar Tuck's guide about NPCs are especially pertinent when facing such powerful foes as wild Rahkshi. Rahkshi aren't NPCs that are as strong as you: they're NPCS that are stronger than you. If I see someone playing with fire and forgetting to get burned, I'll be sure to fix that pretty quickly.

That is absolutely correct. Next time I guess I won't assume that my brusqueness will be interpreted to mean "end of discussion."

Never apologize for having "just Gabe." Gabe is super excellent.

Maybe; however, as Nihi actually bears a Kanohi Rau in the game, it made the most sense to have her wearing one here.

That is absolutely correct.

Just added the last set to the first post, and an overview image of the theme. Hope you guys enjoy the completed collection!

IC: “Breath” Kuno had wished to watch the Chiisai Ryuu leave Kentoku, so he’d descended from his apartment (not sparing the servants at the door even a glance) and, in as light of First Son finery as he could conceivably wear in the public eye – today, an overlong ruby scarf draped about his shoulders, paired with crystal gauntlets and chest piece – he had paraded through the streets of Sado until he’d reached the docks. Upon entering through the open gate of the pier, a crowd – principally composed of fisherwomen and sailors that’d discarded their work to ogle at the oncoming form of the Ryuu, but also including here and there sprinklings of higher castes – met his eyes. The crowd wouldn’t hinder Kuno; proudly unprompted, I announced his name and title, drawing the eyes of all within hearing range. Expectably, the mass of ‘hoko in Kuno’s way parted for him without making eye contact, and he passed unmolested through them to the best vantage point at the edge of the pier. This caste phenomenon, along with the glint of sun in his crystal armor and the absence of his mother, lent Kuno in these circumstances a degree of grandeur he too rarely enjoyed even given his status in society. Kuno rarely smiled; his satisfied half-grin proudly proclaimed his glee to the practiced eye. As she rounded the coast and drew directly past the edge of the pier, the Chiisai Ryuu cut a splendid profile. All smooth crystal facets, arcing fins and vast sparkling windows, she was doubtless the greatest – and most expensive – vessel ever wrought by Dastana shipwrights. When the Ryuu’s sharp nose, emblazoned with the emblem of a flying Kanohi Dragon, cut through the foaming water before the dock she arose great enthusiasm in the crowd, whose waving spiked in vigor when the submersible’s crew reciprocated it from inside their portholes. While Kuno found the engineering of the Ryuu much more interesting than the people onboard, I was of an opposite perspective; as the Ryuu plowed forth, I peered with squinted eyes at the Dasaka peering back through her windows. Behind the clear panes of the bridge, I made out the proud, distinct silhouette of Commodore Ayiwah (her long coat gave her away), as well as a few other bodies. Most were just vaguely recognizable shapes. One of these, though, struck me as extremely familiar. Something known about the shape of a Dasaka further down the bridge, her fingers pressed lightly against the crystal pane, led me to give her a second look just as her head turned and her nose touched against the inside of the window. I saw the face much more clearly, but only for a moment before it was too far away to perceive properly. Was that Nihi? … Nihi’s fingertips and the pliant tip of her nose kissed the bridge window, and her humid breath fogged its pane. As her native land and its people bobbed past her vision for what’d probably be the last time in a very long time, Nihi gave herself to the firm embrace of the crystal. She took comfort in its strong touch, the loving heat of the sun behind it; she wanted to nestle her whole face into the reassuring warmth, but demurely refused more than tantalizing contact. Her eyelids drooped a little; her lips parted a little; her shoulders eased a little, and she sighed into the window, renewing the wetness on it. While behind her, the crew of the Chiisai Ryuu bustled about their posts – waving at the crowd outside whenever they got the chance or passed by the port windows on some errand – Nihi stood still, relishing a moment of tranquility and privacy after the frenetic events of earlier that day. She’d been late to the docks; she’d lost her temper with the Saihoko at the door, and shoved her off the gangplank; she’d gotten caught trying to stow away; her chance at going to Mata Nui again had been jeopardized; and, finally, her passage had been restored, albeit provisionally. Now the submarine moved, and Nihi moved with it. Waking up, packing her bag, and her last visit with Nachi felt like they’d happened on a different day entirely. Beyond the glass, seemingly all of Sado had gathered to bid farewell to the Chiisai Ryuu. Nihi didn’t bother searching the faces along the crowded dock as the submarine sailed past it; no one would be waving for her, so what was the point? Nihi didn’t have anyone – no friends, no real acquaintances either – and nobody had known she’d be leaving today. Nachi had been the only one whom Nihi had told, but Nihi knew that her sister wouldn’t come to say goodbye. She hadn’t said it when Nihi had left her room earlier that day, and she hadn’t said it any visit before. It was safe to trust the pattern. Nihi looked beyond the multitudes blanketing the dock and beach, gazing up instead at the stoic pinnacles of the Imperial Palace. The crystal towers seemed not to move even as the docks flitted past. They absorbed and refracted the daylight brilliantly; not even the nobles that inhabited it could besmirch the tremendous beauty of the structure itself. Nihi would be glad to leave behind the world of pointless deception and dangerous frivolity that she’d been accidentally reeled into, glad to extract herself from bad people like Kuno and the new Empress. Though a well-raised part of Nihi still chafed beneath audacious thoughts like these, each one that flicked through her mind made disrespecting the upper caste easier. How could she – how could anyone – have ever had faith in them? The passivity of the lower castes – the passivity she’d once bought into – retrospectively astonished Nihi. She concluded that the reverence most of society paid to its ruling class only persisted through ignorance; having personally experienced their shamelessness, privilege and greed, she knew firsthand how the upper caste deserved to be challenged. In the renewed fog on the windowpane, Nihi traced an . As she drew back a little to examine her handiwork – the circle was definitely lopsided – the letter’s defining background had already started to fade. … “…Big, isn’t she?” drawled a voice from beneath Kuno. Kuno and I looked down and over the tip of the dock. We saw the skeletal frame of Shieka – the Dastana Battlemaster to whom Kuno had been introduced at Yumiwa’s party – lounging on the sea-weathered rocks supporting the tip of the pier. Sheika’s striking face with its bladed cheeks turned back towards us insouciantly, and one of her lean, ropy arms bent at the elbow to cradle her chin in her hand as her sly eyes appraised us. Her Taajar eyes hovered a little bit longer than normal on Kuno’s scarf, and the touches of a smile played about her full mouth. “Good day, lady Sheika,” Kuno answered politely. “I’d agree; the Chiisai Ryuu is quite the sight.” “I’m not a lady,” Sheika informed him under a pointed eyebrow before resuming banter and showing teeth. To my surprise, she didn’t have sharp canines. “Quite the sight, quite the vessel… She cost the Dastana a fortune to put together. I’m glad the Umbralines were able to pay the shipwrights fully, up front… a lack of outstanding debts might buy everyone a little time.” “Time?” Kuno solicited. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand what you—“ “Of course you do,” Sheika dismissed. “You’re a smart boy. A very distinctive Soulsword went through Yusanora. How many Dasaka do you know that studied a ball at the Yards?” “I don’t see why Jasik would have killed the Empress,” Kuno countered. “Doesn’t matter why,” Sheika said as she turned back to watching the submarine, which by now had fully passed our dock. The Chiisai Ryuu grew smaller and smaller as it approached the break in the reef and, thereafter, open waters; Sheika flicked barnacles into the ocean as she continued to address us. “If the Dastana First Son killed our departed Empress – which, to my great sorrow and shock, it appears as though he must have – Umbraline recompense is inevitable. I really dearly hope that nobody does something rash to him before Rayuke’s given ample proof…” “You expect a blood feud,” concluded Kuno. “I wish that I didn’t, I truly do,” Sheika sighed unconvincingly. “Among other concerns, I’m quite afraid that our new Empress would be wholly overwhelmed by such a conflict. She’s never dealt with civil war before.” “Civil war.” “It’d be only natural. A Dastana kills the Umbraline leader, and the Umbralines respond, perhaps in kind, and the trading of lives continues… We both know what happens when two of the largest clans feud against one another. Ah, but no, you were born after all that business; my mistake. The Empress was as well, wasn’t she?” “I believe so, yes.” “So young, so… unprepared.” Sheika pried free a rather large barnacle and plopped it into the lapping waves. “These forces aren’t easy to control. Her clan was quite loyal to her mother. The Dastana have the loyalty of Saihoko, which is even stronger.” “You speak about the Dastana as though they weren’t your clan,” Kuno frowned. “My clan is small and obscure,” Sheika replied, giving us her gaze again. This time, though, she wasn’t smiling, and something was alight in her stare. While the naive crowd around continued to wave at the departing submarine, or jostled along the dock to follow it, Kuno, Sheika and I existed in a bubble forged from the same stuff that burned behind Sheika’s eyes. Sheika accused Kuno with her attention. “If I told you its name, you would not recognize it. The Dastana are not my people; they are merely my employers. My loyalty is to myself.” “If war did break out,” Kuno prodded. “Where would your loyalties lie?” “Theoretical questions about theoretical wars,” Sheika pondered with a degree of savageness. “There are some who are wise enough to see that in theoretical wars, there’s theoretical profit to be made. Theoretically, my allegiance lies with them.” … Nihi had been waiting outside the healing level of the Gardens since quite early in the morning. The gray blanket in the sky hadn’t yet parted for the sun that was ordained to bless the Archipelago that afternoon, so a bit of the previous evening’s chill persisted into the day. Huddled in a niche in the square, her satchel already packed and her staff hugged under her armpit, Nihi bounced in her knees as she waited for the healing level’s door to open. At last, she spotted the familiar shape of Gysha trotting into the square from another avenue. Nihi approached as Gysha unlocked the door. “Good morning, Nihi,” Gysha smiled. “You’re earlier than usual.” “I’ve got somewhere to be,” Nihi said. “I’ve got to see Nachi as soon as I can.” “I’ll let you into her room,” Gysha assured her. “She may be asleep, but you can visit her.” Nachi was asleep when Nihi entered her room. She lay on her back, head lolled to one side. She’d been cleanly tucked in, and the attendant’s handiwork hadn’t been disturbed all night; Nachi didn’t stir when she slept. The gray morning invaded through the window, making even the green potted plant in the corner look pallid; Nachi’s wan face, turned away from the light, was softened by shade. Her eyes closed, her mouth slightly ajar, the discrepancy between what she was and what she once had been was made invisible by the mask of restfulness. Aside from the unnervingly flat covers, the sleeping Dasaka looked like Nihi’s Nachi. Nihi carefully set down her staff and satchel by the door and approached her sister’s bed. She knelt next to Nachi’s head, resting her hands on the mattress and sitting on her haunches. Periodically, Nachi’s exhales – warm and a little smelly – sanctified Nihi’s face and demonstrated Nachi’s vivacity. Nihi raised one of her hands from its place on the covers. As gently as she could, Nihi stroked her sister’s forehead and ear with a solitary finger. Nachi showed no signs of feeling the contact. Nihi closed her eyes and synchronized her breath with her sister’s; in through the nose, out through the mouth, deep and slow. As she often did – still, she found, somewhat automatically – Nihi addressed Nachi on the mental plane. :I’m leaving,: Nihi relayed to the emptiness. :I’m going back to Mata Nui today.: Nachi still didn’t respond, which Nihi had expected. Nihi opened her eyes again and looked closely at her sister’s sleeping face. Nachi’s flesh clung closer to her bones than it had in the past – her old warrior muscles had long since atrophied, and her eye sockets were like wells – but it was still unmistakably Nachi’s face, even if it wasn’t arranged in the sort of mischievous expression that’d so often been its wont. Nihi still found her sister beautiful. The slackness of sleep was different than the slackness of wakefulness, somehow more peaceful and earnest. When Nachi was awake, her face just looked numb. :I won’t be able to come see you again for a long time,: Nihi informed Nachi, though Nachi didn’t hear. :The expedition will be long, and I may not return with it. It’ll take me a long time to track down and kill all six of them, and if I have to stay behind to finish the job, that’s what I’ll do.: Nihi’s nose had become slightly damp, as it’d been receiving Nachi’s breath for a while. Nihi lifted her hand from Nachi’s ear and wiped off the condensation. “Gross,” she whispered to Nachi with fake petulance. Nachi didn’t laugh; not that Nihi had expected her to, but something about the following silence snubbed the lightness of the moment. :They’re strong,: Nihi went on, returning her hand to the mattress. :They were stronger than us… than you. And you were stronger than me. I might not come back at all.: What would happen to Nachi if Nihi never came back? Would the healing centers continue to feed her, tuck her in just so, if Nihi wasn’t around to pay for their time? Was Gysha so generous that she would leave a dumb, helpless, purposeless shell in one of the valuable rooms, instead of giving it to another wounded soul? That didn’t seem likely; Nihi loved Nachi, but she knew that her sister took more than she gave. She couldn’t help it, but it was still true. Nihi was the only one who valued Nachi, she was the only one who had reason to value the same dumb, helpless, purposeless shell that everyone else had to see. If she went away, they’d discard Nachi. Whether or not the healers wanted to, they’d have to at some point. And what would happen to Nachi then? Would she be thrown on the streets? Would they— They would. The stone dropped in Nihi’s stomach. Would they do it kindly? Nihi didn’t know. The stone ground at her insides. This was unfair. Nachi slept on just as before, but Nihi perceived her face differently. Her sister’s beauty was buried too deeply beneath a mask of infirmity, a mask that Nihi had come to despise though she’d tried so hard not to. Ever since the night on the dock, a cruel emptiness had paraded in her sister’s withering body, demanding Nihi’s attention, livelihood, and emotion while giving her nothing other than fleeting nostalgia and renewed grief. Nihi could ramble and share as much as she wanted, try vainly to recreate the bond of sisterhood that the Piraka had stolen from her, but the emptiness would never do anything other than absorb and obliterate. Before Nihi’s reddening eyes, the slack face laughed at her, as it’d laughed every time she’d entered or left without receiving salutation, or every time it’d coaxed Nihi into moving its limbs for it, or every time food had accidentally dribbled down its chin. Nachi was dead; she had been dead for longer than Nihi had ever wanted to admit. It was time for the emptiness to die, too. Careful not to lean on the mattress and wake Nachi, Nihi stood. She walked quietly around the foot of the bed and over to the chair near the window, where the attendants had made a habit of piling the extra pillows and bamboo frame they used to prop Nachi up at feeding time. Nihi extracted one of the pillows from the stack, and took it in both hands. Her grip on the soft cushion was unnecessarily tight, so tight that her knuckles whitened. She looked down at the tool in her hands for a few seconds, and noticed that her eyes were becoming itchy. Nihi heard someone in her head scream at her to release the pillow, and she wanted to, but she wouldn’t. Couldn’t; she needed to help Nachi leave. The stone ricocheted around in her gut. Nihi approached her sister’s bed, clutching the unstained pillow tight as a garrote. Ever so carefully, she crawled up onto the mattress so that she straddled the motionless body beneath her. Nihi’s knees crinkled the paper-smooth sheets. As the screaming in Nihi’s mind grew louder, she lowered the pillow as slowly and painfully as if she’d been lifting an immensely heavy load. It drew within inches of the emptiness’ fish mouth, tight skin, sunken eyes. Nachi’s eyes drifted open. Nihi, who had been holding her breath, gasped as she recoiled and let the pillow drop to one side of the bed. Hands no longer in fists, she seized her sister’s head, turning Nachi’s face forcibly towards her own. Nachi blinked and stared into nothing, looking past Nihi even as she gazed in that direction. The eyes were vacant as ever, but wholly without malice. Nachi’s mouth was still open, and as Nihi leaned down closer to the face, she once again felt humid exhales on her nose. On one such exhale, something made Nachi wheeze a bit. Suddenly and frantically, Nihi scrambled off the bed and retreated to the farthest corner of the room. As the woken Nachi lay unmoving in bed, her breathing again as steady as it’d been in her sleep, Nihi sunk down the wall and cradled her own skull in her hands. Something dry at the back of her throat tried to escape through her choked sobs. A wet film blurred her vision as she struggled not to drown on her self-loathing and desperation; each inhalation was a desperate intake of breath that gave her only enough air to continue to cry. … At last, the Chiisai Ryuu passed the barrier reef, and to tremendous cheers from the assembled throng it started to sink below the surface. Kuno didn’t cheer, but he looked on approvingly as the submarine submerged. A periscope, a twinkle on the water, was the last thing to disappear from our sight. The ships that’d flanked the Ryuu peeled off and headed back to port, and the landlocked crowd, its entertainment finished, either went back to work or retreated to the city. Agilely, Sheika vaulted back onto the surface of the dock proper, and gave Kuno a mysterious look before she sauntered down the pier and back towards Sado. He watched her leave, brow furrowed, and as she was lost in the rest of the retreating horde, Kuno addressed me. “She seemed to have given an undue amount of thought to something purely theoretical,” he noted skeptically. “She certainly knew something she wasn’t telling us,” I agreed. “What do you think that could be?” he asked. “Who stands to profit from a war between Dastana and Umbraline?” I posited. “My mother,” Kuno scowled. He wheeled about and followed the crowd back towards the Imperial Palace. I followed, making sure his scarf didn’t trail on the ground. … OOC: Chiisai Ryuu and crew to Ga-Wahi topic. Note that the submarine will remain at sea for as long as Smaug the Terrible/VF says; henceforth, the journey of the submarine and any obstacles or events it encounters en route will fall under his control. Please wait for him to make an initial post in Ga-Wahi before resuming activity on board. Thanks!

And that attitude doesn't do jack squat.

Dashi can hear Ideatalk, but not transmit it.

Yeah, I know it's a weensy bit overdue, thanks all for your patience... but here it is: the official "Elements Blissfully Unscientific Nuju Hates When You Think Too Hard About" list! PlasmaMagnetismGravityElectricityHooray!

That's been fixed - I had to replace a few images on Flickr, so there was a brief period where some of the links didn't lead to anything. Maybe a little "How to Train Your Dragon" - I hadn't thought actively about it, but you're right! I'm glad you like the sets. As for the dragons, they're extremely mobile - they have over 30 points of articulation - but are also quite stable, as stable as I could manage. They stand on four legs easily, and with a little finagling will balance on two, as well. The most delicate sections are the jaws and toes, which are only held on by standard clips, but as those aren't massive or in prime "holding areas," I don't see them as terribly fragile. The bulk of the bodies are quite durable, being made of Knights Kingdom/Exo-Force joints, which offer tons of mobility while maintaining stability. The wings are dominantly Technic frames, so they're probably the sturdiest parts.

A hexagonal chamber, taller than it was wide and wrought wholly in quartz, met the Piraka’s eyes. They’d entered through the room’s flat ceiling; the set of stairs that had its head at the end of the Abettor’s tunnel hugged close to one of the six walls, and descended back and forth upon itself like a mountain trail down to the glossy green-white floor. The walls themselves were wrought of the same rock, polished remarkably smooth, and unbroken but for the countless lithographs – random-seeming, disordered clusters of letters, which could have been believed to be meaningless if they hadn’t been so deliberately etched into the stone – liberally sprinkled over every surface. Opposite the Piraka’s staircase, the inside of the Vault’s main entrance – on this side, a colossal angular arch with stone door set shallowly in its quartz frame – glowered disapprovingly at the rest of the room. A distinct area of the floor a few meters in front of the door, and the door itself, were the only parts of the chamber untouched by the sigils that peppered the other surfaces of the Vault. Though its pale face was without eyes, the Piraka nevertheless felt distinctly as though the massy stone gate watched them, and none dared spare it more than a glance at a time. The room itself hadn’t been what had stolen the Piraka’s breath, though. A vat of Antidermis, which clung with ropey fingers of an unidentifiable black tar to one of the walls, had been the first thing that’d drawn their gazes. A black-green leech swollen with evil fluid, a blemish on the clean quartz wall, the twisted container could have easily held three Toa; three Toa, though, would have likely seemed a paltry feast to this hungrily hunched vat. A half-dozen clear pipes, each capped by a simple screw spigot, sprouted like tentacles from the beast’s belly and ended within easy reach; if these pipes’ functions hadn’t been clear enough, racks of vials just like the one Zaktan had thrown at the Abettor, these empty, stood against the wall beneath the vat. Against another wall, a stack of miscellaneous technological devices sat in a careless pyramid. Bizarre launchers, humming generators, glowing blades, what looked very much like several robotic appendages, and a veritable sea of cogs, screws, axles, and scraps were piled higher than two of Avak (who almost fell off the staircase in dumbfounded bliss when he spotted the titanic pile). Some machines were recognizable, but most weren’t, and for every complete piece in the pile, there were dozens of ineffectual fragments. Another pile of much smaller size gathered dust – or, failed to gather dust; the Vault was oddly spotless – opposite the mountain of technology. This mound was composed of a dozen or so Kanohi, tossed one on top of another without ceremony, despite the fact that these Kanohi were of the sort not normally seen on the island. Their powers were wicked, potent, and seldom wielded by the inhabitants of Mata Nui; in the right hands, they could be extremely dangerous. After a moment of collective processing, the Piraka snapped back to their usual manner and raced down the quartz stairs, each intent on sizing up his loot. The pile of technology was of the greatest interest to most; with clawed hands, four of the six sifted through the heap. Avak, his bouncing Kraata-ball forgotten – the slug, freed of its prison as soon as Avak had stopped maintaining it, flopped slowly down the stairs after the Piraka – intermittently picked up juicy-looking machines, snatched other devices from his peers, and whined at someone to handle something they’d just discovered carefully. Hakann and Zaktan were the two that hadn’t gone straight for the technology; Hakann had gone over to the pile of masks – he picked them up one after another, looked them deep in their empty eye sockets, and then tossed them back, chuckling sinisterly to himself the whole time – and Zaktan had approached the Antidermis tank. Zaktan stared up into the whirling black-green forces held therein, hands clasped behind his back and a toothless sneer melting constantly around his mouth. The warped glass of the vat presented him with a crinkled reflection of himself as he looked at it, and not just literally. Both vat and Skakdi were still, and yet eternally in motion; green fluid, green particles, whirling gas, flickering sand, Zaktan and the Antidermis were of one nature, and Zaktan could acknowledge that— —the dark fluid swallowed his legs first, sucking him down like quicksand, too hungry— —without denial. He’d long since accepted the transformation, and its benefits— —he was at once suffocating and drowning, his legs had already been incinerated, but now the stuff was razing his insides— —were unquestionable. Being ostracized for his divergence didn’t bother Zaktan, as it might have perturbed someone less self-assured; he knew that being seen as alone gave him power— —limbs were gone, spine was gone, lungs were gone, mind was gone, all gobbled by the ravenous black-green fire, turned to ash— —over the others. They had never understood him, and now they could never kill— —he was dying… he was dead… and yet alive— —him; for how could he die? The dunes of the desert changed in the wind, but the sand did not— —the pallid emerald energies that had just finished consuming him were now repulsing him, shoving him back against his will into the world of light and torture— —weather away, the sand only scattered to form a new dune. Confidence of his own immortality— —from the ashes, swirling even without a breeze, a body was slowly remade— —granted Zaktan his greatest power. Yet even the daily satisfaction of watching the others squirm beneath his eye could not blunt the recollection of his pain, or make him forget the savory – and long since untenable – promise of final rest. The others feared the Antidermis, and so feared him, but Zaktan knew better; he hated the Antidermis, and so hated his eternal self. “Hey!” Avak wheedled particularly sharply, breaking into Zaktan’s reverie. He waded carefully through the ankle-high technology over to Vezok. “Watch it, those are extremely delicate—” “I’m aware,” Vezok grunted as he shoved past intricate clockworks to get at what looked like a triple-shot Zamor Launcher. “But I don’t care.” “You’re a po-et,” Thok grinned caustically as he spun a piece of shrapnel in his hands. “And you don’t know-et.” “Always so crass,” Vezok sneered in riposte. “Here’s my foot up your—” “Look at this,” Reidak announced as he bent down into the pile and extracted something as big as he was. It was a full Rahkshi, bright red and black, and limp as a wet noodle. Thok loped over and snatched the armor, then held it by its wrists and pulled it up to his chest so that he was the suit’s puppeteer. He made his Rahkshi wave at the rest of the Piraka, and put on a jolly voice. “Hello, world!” Thok wheedled as he cavorted about with the Rahkshi. “I’m disposable!” “Really, Thok?” Hakann sighed as he continued his staring contest with a Kanohi Jutlin. “You’ve reached an undiscovered low. But then, I suppose I should be congratulating you on going where no one has dared go before.” “Don’t get smart with me, mister,” Thok scolded, moving the Rahkshi’s hands to its hips and adopted a matronly tone. “I’ll send you to your room.” As the Piraka descended rather typically into squabbling and shoving, the forgotten Kraata, sensing opportunity, inched closer to the pile of technology. When Thok dropped the Rahkshi puppet as he ducked beneath Reidak’s fist, the Kraata slithered as fast as it could for the prize. In a grand stroke of fate, the abandoned armor and the naked Kraata were of the same type; in perhaps an even grander stroke of fate, the little slug never fell beneath the injudicious feet of the quarreling Skakdi before it reached its new home. Wiggling with a desperation borne of instinct, the Kraata slithered into the head of the Rahkshi armor. The completed creature rose off the pile of machinery, and was either unnoticed or ignored by the still-wrestling Piraka until it grabbed Vezok by the ankle, hoisted him into the air, and with a spinning windup sent him flying at one of the walls. Vezok hit the glossy quartz surface with a sickening crunch and a muffled “ouch” – here, Hakann sniggered – and the Rahkshi, its spine bristling and hands balled into fists, shrieked a challenge. The shrill call captured Zaktan’s attention; dissolving for an instant, his particles whirled about with the torque of a tornado to reform and face the Rahkshi, which had been given a cagey berth by the rest of the Piraka. One of the empty crystal vials from the rack along the wall seemed to have materialized into Zaktan’s hand. Deliberately and quickly, beneath the stare of the unhurriedly advancing, hissing Rahkshi, Zaktan popped the cork of the vial, raised it to the nearest of the Antidermis vat’s spigots, and with the available fingers of the same hand opened the tap, allowing a trickle of the vat’s eager darkness to fill the flask before he contained it once again. With an economical flick of his wrist, Zaktan splashed the Antidermis through the air at the Rahkshi just as its clawed fingers were about to close upon his throat. As it’d done upon encountering the Abettor, the Antidermis latched slickly onto the Rahkshi and slithered along its body until it found a suitable opening – in this case, the same way the Kraata had entered the armor a minute ago – whereupon the dark energy replaced the glowing red of the Rahkshi’s eyes with a sickly, swirling green. As the change took place, the Rahkshi lowered its arms and assumed a neutral posture, head ahead and eyes unfocused. Zaktan’s ever-melting lips parted to bare his ever-melting teeth in as close an approximation of a smile as could be found in his facial vocabulary. Reidak was the first of the others to speak up; he stepped out of the scrap pile and peered appraisingly at the tranquil Rahkshi. “What have you done to it?” Reidak asked. “The same thing he did to the Abettor, stupid,” Avak snorted. “Yeah, stupid,” Vezok seconded. “Don’t you have eyes?” “Two more than you’re about to have,” stated Reidak as he cracked his knuckles. “So the thing should follow orders, now,” Hakann ruminated. “Yes, it should,” Zaktan buzzed as his leer widened and he scratched his chin. He addressed the Rahkshi and lazily pointed at Hakann. “Kill that one.” Without hesitation, the unarmed Rahkshi dashed at Hakann, tackling him to the ground before he had a chance to react. Its sharp fingers made straight for his neck, but never got there, as Hakann used a clawed foot to kick the Rahkshi off of himself and scrabble back to his feet. The Rahkshi rolled gracefully out of Hakann’s boot and regained its footing for just long enough to launch into an aerial tackle, arms outstretched and spine splayed. Hakann aimed his Lava Launcher and fired it at the oncoming creature, but he slipped on a stray cog and his shot went awry, hitting the wall barely to the left of the Antidermis vat and scorching it black. The Rahkshi sailed over him, landing with a colossal metallic din into the heart of the tech pile. It emerged again an instant later, showering the rest of the Piraka with mechanical debris in doing so, only to meet a lava projectile that this time Hakann had aimed unerringly. The blazing shot hit the Rahkshi squarely in the chest, but had surprisingly little effect; Hakann’s missile was actually absorbed by what seemed to be a Rahkshi of Fire Resistance. Encouraged by the puzzlement written all over Hakann’s face, the Rahkshi dove through the air again at its assigned target. Hakann simply sidestepped the flying Rahkshi, and thus inadvertently brought about its demise. The Rahkshi sailed right past Hakann, its momentum carrying it further forward than it’d intended to go. The creature landed on the area of the floor in front of the Vault’s main door – the area with no letters carved onto it – and rolled onto its feet, but as it began to straighten something odd happened: where on the floor and door there’d been no lithographs instants before, symbols blossomed into existence. They were of the same size and character as those that filled the rest of the chamber – jumbles of miscellaneous letters – but these differed markedly in that they weren’t carvings, and smoldered red-orange. They also generated tremendous heat; seen through the baking air, the ground, gate, and Rahkshi soon seemed to be rippling. At first, the Rahkshi hadn’t been fazed by the change in its environment, but its reassurance faded fast. The creature looked about in confusion as the unexpected glowing letters brightened, approaching white, and became hotter and hotter. Suddenly, it hissed in pain and lifted one of its feet urgently off the ground; even through the sweltering air, the Piraka could see that the sole had been branded with letters as clear and black as ink. Panicking, the Rahkshi made a dash for safe ground again, but just as it would have passed over the last line of fire-sigils, the symbols flared angrily and broiled, creating a veritable wall of white-hot fire to block its advance. The Rahkshi recoiled, but was met by a similar wall at its back. Surely, but at agonizing speed, the walls grew thicker and thicker as more sigils progressively joined them in spitting flame, confining the Rahkshi to a diminishing – and only slightly less scorching – area. The firewalls finally met at their quarry, and the unmarked area of the floor erupted with joyous flame. The sweltering Piraka stepped back as far as they could, though this barely helped them avoid the oppressive heat. They all jumped as, over the shrill cries of the cooking Rahkshi, a bodiless voice that was neither male nor female boomed from nowhere and started to recite the same verse that was to be found on the outside of the Vault’s door. Its words were immaculately metered. Across an endless ocean Beyond where minds can see My key lies in the open Where you will never be Beneath the brightest thunder Stand towers of the day The light may break asunder If night skies choose obey The red sign on black eyes Will lead you to your prize Abruptly, as the bodiless speaker uttered the riddle’s final word, the column of fire went out. The Rahkshi, which had long since stopped screaming, had in fact long since stopped existing; not even a pile of ashes marked its place on the floor among the quickly fading fire-sigils. Within moments, the door was an unbroken pale face again, and the patch of naked floor in front of it looked as harmless as before. It took the Piraka – drenched in sweat, their eyes as big as Matoran’s disks – another beat to reenter reality. “Like I said,” Thok finally spoke, his grin distinctly brittle, “Disposable.”

IC: "Rooming Eiyu Nihi will not be an issue," Ayiwah stated tersely, her hands clasped behind her back. "The Chiisai Ryu has enough bunks. I have no further stipulations for her." Nihi could tell that Ayiwah wasn't happy with Hanako's verdict - with the prospect of Nihi's presence - but she also saw that the Commodore valued discipline above all else, and would never dream of disobeying or even hindering an order from those above her. Even as she resented the way Ayiwah looked down on her (and her passion), Nihi couldn't help but admire the Commodore's total commitment to Order. Besides, Nihi couldn't blame Ayiwah for disapproving; Nihi supposed she hadn't done much to earn the Commodore's respect. In the end, Ayiwah was standing out of Nihi's way, so Nihi was grateful for that. Ayiwah having smoothed over the last detail, the only word left to be said was Nihi's. Hanako watched attentively as Nihi turned from regarding the Commodore and met the her eyes; Nihi spoke as respectfully as she knew how. "Ma'am," Nihi began, bowing her head to Hanako. "Your terms are generous; I will not break your trust by disregarding them. I will fully execute my duties to the Rora and to the Empire... and my personal wishes will be of secondary importance." Nihi wasn't lying. While her revenge on the Chaotic Six wouldn't be of secondary importance in her heart, it never could be, she knew that if she wasn't prepared to grant her vendetta secondary importance in her action, she'd lose all possibility of pursuing it. "Thank you for giving me a chance," Nihi finished earnestly, meeting Hanako's eyes again. "It'll be my honor to be at your side." "That's all I needed to hear," Hanako nodded. "Commodore, are we ready to depart?"

There's a ball joint in Nihi's waist, which gives her mobility in the lower half of her torso.

It's so sad that so few of you are here with me at Brickfair VA -- this is the very best time of the year to riddle game secrets out of me.

You guys Brickfair is totes NOT MONOtonous! I am having a chimungusly good time! Panthar don't care. (Also you guys OH MY GOD DeeVee is hotter in person and I always forget! Silly me. God I love him. Oh no it's Nukaya, ollie out!)

Thanks guys! First post updated with a new set - 64015 Fythold Ultimate Dragon!

What makes you think the Piraka will be able to unlock the Vault's secrets?

It isn't Makuta taking control of the Abettor. It's the Antidermis he created, and enabled Zaktan to find, seeing that the most efficient way to enable destruction - the Antidermis' existential purpose - is by adding the Piraka to the Vault's "VIP list."

Hey guys! This is the topic for a group of creations I've been working on for a while now. My general M.O. for MOCing is that I make creations to be as stable, functional, and reasonably-sized as real LEGO sets. The creations I make in my "themes" are designed to go together well, and be highly playable as a cohesive theme. The theme below is the fifth I've made this way, and is sorta a "revamp" of one I did a few years ago, with many of the same set concepts executed in much greater depth and detail (and better photographed!), but at once streamlined and simplified. I'm calling it "(Not) LEGO Dragon Lands." The premise of (Not) LEGO Dragon Lands is pretty basic, to stay in line with what TLG would do for one of their original themes: the humans of the Kingdom of Ardun are at war with the orc-like Ustokal of the Essoni Desert. Doesn't really matter what they're fighting over, does it? Magic is a big component in this world, as sorcerers and wizards and powerful Legendary Weapons and Dragons(!) are all key assets in the Human-vs.-Ustokal conflict. Something fun I decided to do was set the theme in two principal locations: the hot Essoni Desert, and the Kingdom of Ardun in the wintertime... it should be pretty apparent which sets are from which locale, as the Ustokal will or won't be wearing mittens! There are a few recurring main characters, who get both desert and winter outfits, which was something I liked playing around with. I had a great time implementing a lot of "magical" functions in these sets, especially by using the new Star Wars spring launchers as "Spell Launchers." I also had a blast updating my old dragon design to be much more detailed and poseable. I challenged myself to make the siege engines that appear in the theme to be as compact as possible while maintaining their functionalities and structural integrity, which actually made me create some weapons I'm very happy with (you'll be seeing them in some later sets). Clicking the images below brings you to larger versions on Flickr. Feel free to visit the theme's Flickr Album for more in-depth looks at the sets! Thanks for viewing, any comments and critiques you have are welcomed. 64020 Battle for Myrdoc Tower ($130 USD) Clash for mastery of Myrdoc Tower’s magic! The ancient and mysterious Myrdoc Tower, home of the wizard Althior, is under attack! The Ustokal sorcerer Rothut will do anything to possess the Legendary Staff, and his minion Kimvor, riding the greedy dragon Imaust, wants to take the Legendary Axe for himself. It’s up to Althior, his apprentice Brigid, and Prince Orion to hold the tower and protect its primeval magic. Includes Althior, Brigid, Orion, Rothut, and Kimvor.Includes 5 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: Brigid, Orion, Rothut, Althior and KimvorMyrdoc Tower features impressive gothic detailing, flying buttresses, stained glass windows, spires, and plenty of wizard accessoriesMove the magical force field from the stairs to the air bridgeWhen Kimvor tries to grab the Legendary Axe, drop him into the dungeon with a secret trap doorRoaring fireplace really lights upClimb the side of the tower using the rusty barsLaunch the boulder at invaders on the groundPick off enemies with a spring-loaded spell launcher at the end of the tower’s air bridgeSet also includes a spell launcher disguised in a rockRemove one of the flying buttresses to reveal red and blue shots for the spell launchersRemotely open the magical shield covering the Legendary Staff by sliding the bar belowImaust the dragon is fully poseable, with 32 points of articulation including folding wings, moving toes, and an opening jawImaust features flexible cloth membranes on his wingsSeat Kimvor on Imaust’s backWeapons and accessories include a sword, a crossbow, an axe, 2 wizard staffs, a snowy owl, a treasure chest with gold coins, the Legendary Axe, the Legendary Shield, and the Legendary StaffMyrdoc Tower is constructed modularly for easy assembly and rearrangementCombine the modules of Battle for Myrdoc Tower with those of 64018 Alchemist Workshop Defense to create dozens of different castlesImaust measures over 13” (33cm) long, with a wingspan of over 16” (41cm) and a shoulder height of 3” (8cm)Myrdoc Tower measures over 20” (53cm) tall, 13” (33cm) long and 7” (18cm) wide64019 Siege of Issiad ($115 USD) Lay siege to the Ustokal city of Issiad! The soldiers of Ardun, led by General Lerus, are staging a full-scale attack on the oasis city of Issiad, and they’ve come prepared! Against the Ardun force’s massive trebuchet and tall ladder, the Ustokal warriors will have to use all their defenses, including boiling oil, wall-mounted crossbows, and a portcullis. Prince Vorash himself, along with his vicious desert wolf, is prepared to join the fray. Will the Ardun soldiers pass Issiad’s high walls, or will the Ustokal continue to rule the desert? Includes General Lerus, two Ardun soldiers, Vorash, and three Ustokal warriors.Includes 7 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: the exclusive character General Lerus, 2 Ardun soldiers, Vorash, 2 Ustokal warriors and an Ustokal archerAlso includes a horse and tame desert wolfThe walls of Issiad feature powerful battlements, anti-climbing spikes, skirted bottoms, arrow slits, torches, golden domes and plant growthDrop burning oil on invaders with the bucketsRaise and lower the portcullis with a wheel on the back of the gatehouseShoot invaders with the wall mounted flick-fire giant crossbow, which includes extra arrowsIncludes a functional, easy to load rubber-band powered floating arm trebuchet with extra shotsScale the walls of Issiad with the siege ladderDiscover the Legendary Dagger in its hiding place among the rocksEnter Issiad through the secret door a the base of the towerDetailed interior of Issiad includes Vorash’s throne room, a dungeon, a market stall, a blacksmith, a cellar, and a dining tableFeed the Ustokal warriors fish, apples, chicken, and vegetablesWeapons and accessories include 4 swords, 2 pikes, 2 spears, 2 shields, 2 claws, 2 axes, a scythe, a longbow, a hammer, a treasure chest with gold and silver coins, a desert owl, 3 scorpions, the Legendary Dagger, and the Legendary HammerIssiad is constructed in 8 modules for easy assembly and rearrangementTrebuchet measures over 8” (21cm) tall, 5” (18cm) long and 3” (9cm) wideSet includes more than 27” (68cm) of Issiad walls, which are up to 11” (27cm) tall and up to 3” (9cm) wide64018 Alchemist Workshop Defense ($75 USD) Defend Aona’s alchemist workshop from the Ustokal army! Ustokal forces are advancing up the mountain, and they’re intent on taking Aona’s alchemist workshop! The workshop is full of valuable potions, but more importantly it also houses the Legendary Beacon, a light that never goes out. The Ustokal army is strong, and armed with a ballista, but the workshop has its own defenses: a drawbridge, high walls, Aona’s spells, and a ferocious ice wolf. Includes Aona, an Ardun soldier, two Ustokal warriors, and an ice wolf.Includes 4 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: Aona, an Ardun soldier, and two Ustokal WarriorsEnchant the fierce ice wolf to help protect the workshopAlchemist workshop features shelves, tables, a stool, a staircase with a banister, a stove and lots of magical ingredientsRaise the drawbridge with the working winch, and release it by pulling the leverSend the Legendary Beacon flying by pushing the trigger on its baseClimb the spiral staircase to reach the bridgeIncludes a working rubber-band powered Ustokal ballista with 2 extra arrowsAlso includes a spring-loaded spell launcher disguised in a rockRemove a section of the workshop wall to reveal shots for the spell launcher and other accessoriesWeapons include Aona’s staff, a spear, a sword, a shield, an axe, 2 pikes, and the Legendary BeaconAlchemist workshop is constructed modularly for easy assembly and rearrangementCombine the modules of Alchemist Workshop Defense with those of 64020 Battle for Myrdoc Tower to create dozens of different castlesUstokal ballista measures over 3” (8cm) tall, 4” (12cm) long, and 4” (11cm) wideAlchemist workshop measures over 10” (25cm) tall, 15” (38cm) long and 7” (19cm) wide64017 Skolek Confrontation ($50 USD) Confront the two-headed Skolek with the Ardun Dragonslayer! The soldiers of Ardun have a new secret weapon: a huge, repeating spear launcher called the Dragonslayer. But as the Dragonslayer is drawn through a mountainous pass illuminated by the Legendary Torch, Vorash and his two-headed dragon Skolek ambush its convoy! The Dragonslayer is powerful, but will it be able to pierce Skolek’s special iron armor? Includes Vorash, an Ardun Knight and an Ardun Soldier.Includes 3 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: Vorash, an Ardun Knight and an Ardun SoldierAlso comes with two horsesThe Dragonslayer features a cool, semi-automatic rotating reload systemDisconnect the Dragonslayer from the cart horse, and flick-fire its six harpoonsSkolek is fully poseable, with 37 points of articulation including folding wings, moving toes, and an opening jawSkolek features flexible cloth membranes on his wingsSeat Vorash on Skolek’s backSkolek includes 11 pieces of removable metallic armorWeapons include 2 swords, 2 lances, a pike, an axe, and the Legendary TorchAlso includes a pedestal for the Legendary Torch and a mountain brazier more than 4” (10cm) tallDragonslayer and cart measure over 4” (10cm) tall, 10” (27cm) long and 2” (7cm) wideSkolek measures over 13” (32cm) long, with a wingspan of over 18” (48cm) and a shoulder height of 3” (8cm)64016 Ormser Ambush ($30 USD) Reclaim the Legendary Halberd with the swift dragon Ormser! The Ustokal sorcerer Rothut has stolen the Legendary Halberd! Wizard’s apprentice Brigid and her dragon companion, Ormser, must reclaim the powerful weapon from him. Brigid and Ormser ambush Rothut at his oasis, swooping down from the sky. But Rothut is a skilled sorcerer, and he shoots spells up at them. Is Ormser fast enough to dodge the spells and snag the Halberd? Includes Brigid and Rothut.Includes 2 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: Brigid and RothutOrmser is fully poseable, with 32 points of articulation including folding wings, moving toes, and an opening jawOrmser features flexible cloth membranes on his wingsSeat Brigid on Ormser’s backLaunch the flick-fire arrows on Ormser’s harness for an aerial attackWeapons include Rothut’s staff, a crossbow, and the Legendary HalberdFire Rothut’s 3-shot rapid fire spell launcherAlso includes a pedestal for the Legendary HalberdOrmser measures over 13” (32cm) long, with a wingspan of over 16” (41cm) and a shoulder height of 3” (8cm)64015 Fythold Ultimate Dragon ($20 USD) Rule the skies with Fythold, the Ultimate Dragon! The black, spiny dragon Fythold is a powerful and clever beast. With cool barbed armor, sharp teeth and claws, and mighty wings, this dragon strikes fear into the hearts of his enemies! Prince Orion hopes to gain Fythold’s help in the war against the Ustokal, but Fythold proves a hard bargainer. Will Orion win Fythold’s allegiance, or will he be the dragon’s lunch? Includes Orion and Fythold.Includes 1 minifigure: Prince OrionFythold is fully poseable, with 32 points of articulation including folding wings, moving toes, and an opening jawFythold features flexible cloth membranes on his wingsSeat Orion on Ormser’s backFythold’s saddle is removableArm Orion with his broadswordFythold measures over 13” (32cm) long, with a wingspan of over 16” (41cm) and a shoulder height of 3” (8cm)64014 Necromancer’s Peak ($13 USD) Challenge the Necromancer Scallow on a frozen mountain peak! It’s the final showdown! Orion, Prince of Ardun, has embraced his destiny, and has climbed the mountain to confront the evil Necromancer Scallow. Clad in strong royal armor, carrying his trusty sword and the Legendary Shield, which can create magic force fields where he needs them, Orion feels ready for anything. But Scallow’s wicked spells are powerful, too, and may put an end to Orion’s quest. Includes Orion and Scallow.Includes 2 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: Orion in royal armor and ScallowFeatures a collapsible spireIncludes a spring-loaded spell launcher with eerie green shotsShoot Scallow’s spell launcher at Orion’s magic shieldsHit the magic shield underneath the spire to make it crumbleAlso includes a separate floating magic shieldWeapons include Scallow’s bone scythe, a sword, and the Legendary ShieldSpire measures over 8” (21cm) tall, 3” (9cm) long and 2” (6cm) wide64013 Desert Duel ($13 USD) Face the skillful Vorash in a harrowing desert duel! Vorash, King of the Ustokal, routinely practices his combat skills against a special training machine outside the walls of Issiad. When the Witch Aona comes to challenge him, a high-speed, high-stakes duel ensues! Both fighters are expert and agile, and they seem perfectly matched. Can Aona and her magic overcome Vorash and his weapons? Includes Vorash and Aona.Includes 2 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: Vorash and AonaTraining machine features a spinning central column with slots to hold axes, flails, and moreKnock out characters with the spinning flailsPosition characters on the training machine’s middle column to recreate athletic attacksWeapons include 2 axes, 2 claws, a scythe, a sword, a hammer, and Aona’s staffWeapon rack includedLaunch Aona into battle with the magic catapultTraining machine measures over 3” (9cm) tall, 4” (11cm) long and 4” (11cm) wide64012 Myrdoc Army Pack ($10 USD) Fight for the snowy pass with the Myrdoc Army Pack! Myrdoc Tower is under attack, and Ustokal forces with a giant crossbow are trying to advance up the mountain to join the fight! The Ardun soldiers must hold them at bay from behind their stone barricade. Includes two Ardun soldiers and two Ustokal warriors.Includes 4 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: an Ardun solider, an Ardun knight, an Ustokal warrior and an Ustokal archerFeatures a flick-fire giant crossbowShoot giant arrows at the barricade defendersWeapons include 2 swords, a shield, an axe, and a longbowAlso includes a fish with a cooking fireCombine with 64018 Alchemist Workshop Defense and 64020 Battle for Myrdoc Tower for an even larger battleGiant crossbow measures over 2” (6cm) long and 2” (6cm) wideBarricade measures over 3” (9cm) wide64011 Issiad Army Pack ($10 USD) Build your forces with the Issiad Army Pack! The epic siege of Issiad is underway, and both armies need reinforcements! The Ardun troops have a catapult, but will it be enough to get past the Ustokal skirmishers? Includes two Ardun soldiers and two Ustokal warriors.Includes 4 minifigures with assorted weapons and accessories: 2 Ardun desert soldiers, and 2 Ustokal warriorsFeatures a functional rubber-band powered catapultFling rocks at the Ustokal defendersWeapons include 2 spears, 2 swords, 2 shields, and a scytheAlso includes a barrel of applesCombine with 64019 Siege of Issiad for an even greater battleUstokal banner stands over 4” (12cm) tallCatapult measures over 2” (6cm) high, 2” (6cm) long and 2” (6cm) wide

What's the worst that could happen?

IC: “Are we there yet?” “No.” “Are we… there yet?” “No.” “Are we there yet?” “NO.” “Are we—” “If you say another word, Thok, I’ll invert your entire digestive tract.” “No need to get tetchy, Vezok my dear. It was a legitimate question.” “And I gave a legitimate answer, which you seemed not to hear the first seven times. I think you ought to get your hearing looked at. I volunteer to do the inspection myself, I’m very thorough.” “While there’s nothing I’d prefer – truly, nothing I’d prefer – to your putrid gaze, stubby breath, and glaring fingers invading the orifices of my ears, Vezok, I have a policy against checkups when I’m traveling.” “Vezok, how do you know we’re not there yet? Last I checked, you couldn’t tell a brakas from a boulder—” “That was one time, Avak.” “Yeah, Avak, you’re one to talk—” “Shuttup, Thok.” “Can’t. Don’t know how. Poor me! And to top it all off I probably also have an ear infection. Ah me, where’s the pity?” “You simply must get your hearing looked at: I think you just mistook our voices for those of empathetic, pathetic little Toa.” “Hakann, Hakann… It really is a shame you can’t see anything down here. My hand is trying to give you a very special gift.” “Arrgh!” “Reidak stubbed his toe! This is marvelous!” “Shuttup, Thok!” “Reidak, don’t you have infrared vision?” “Only shows me heat signatures; I thought you knew better, Avak. I can’t see the stones. I can only see you clowns.” “More’s the pity.” “We all care what you think. Vezok, you still didn’t answer my question.” “Remind me what that was, Avak; I tend to ignore everything you say, it’s an awful habit, I know.” “You’re oh-so-clever. How do you know we’re not there yet?” “Because Zaktan hasn’t stopped walking.” “How do you know that he knows that we’re not there yet?” “Because, you fool, I’ve been here before.” “And we’re… not there yet?” “SHUTTUP THOK!” “Easy, Reidak, don’t cause another cave-in.” “Or do, that’d be delightful.” “We’re close. But if another one of you speaks a word…” “…Then, what?” “No, see, Zaktan let his threat sit unsaid, as he figured it’d be more menacing. As an expert, I beg to differ; I find threats are more effective if you spell them out, nice and pretty—” “—We all know how you like to operate, Hakann, but I find your unorthodox methods way off-kilter—” “—Off-killer, you mean—” “Quiet, you fools. I heard something.” “Wha—” “Shh!” “Did y—” “SHH!” “I can see them.” “Infared vision coming in handy at last, eh?” “Shuttup. They’re coming down side tunnels, towards us. We have a few seconds.” “How many?” “Four.” “I call one!” “Stop shouting, you’ll draw more.” “—But it’ll be fun—” “—That’s not the point—” “There’s a quick way to handle this: I elect that we cause another cave-in.” “And kill us all, too? Geez, Avak, you’ve got an obsession, a singular fixation.” “It’s like he has… tunnel vision!” “I hate you, Thok.” … The Piraka dispensed of the Rahkshi with a deal of difficulty, but emerged with little more than some cuts and bruises between them. At the prodding of the others, and with a roll of his eyes, Hakann leaned on Zaktan’s elemental powers of air to create and feed a ball of fire that hovered over the group, granting them significantly improved visibility. Avak, meanwhile, palmed a thick, glassy-looking orb, in which was trapped the Kraata that Vezok had torn from the head of one of the Rahkshi in the skirmish. Every now and again, Avak would bounce the surprisingly flexible prison he’d created off the floor or a wall of the passage and back into his own hand, making the Kraata therein squirm and look as queasy as a slug could. Without much more incident, the Piraka at last reached the cavernous heart of Mangaia, where the smooth, impregnable door to the Vault was situated. Hakann’s fireball seemed dimmer in this chamber, but the inscription on the Vault’s face was nevertheless legible. “Ah!” Avak exclaimed. “I love riddles. Lesse. ‘Across an endless ocean…’ that could be anywhere.” “But it can’t be anywhere,” Vezok countered, “Because this riddle is clearly referring to a specific place.” “Well, duh,” Avak snapped, bouncing his Kraata a little harder than before. “I meant, mister literal, that it could be referring to a number of specific places.” “Then you should have said that from the beginning,” Vezok retorted. “Hush children, let’s not fight,” Hakann cooed. “Let’s just have a good time with the brain teaser.” “The brain teaser is irrelevant,” Zaktan hissed in his million-voice. “You’re irrelevant,” Thok grinned. “C’mon, Zakkie, let us have our fun. You have to give me a little room to show them how much smarter I am. Alright, ‘beyond where minds can see.’ Well, this is deliberate phrasing, inviting a little analysis, seeing as minds can’t see… unless it’s referring to the mind’s eye! It’s obviously talking about somewhere imaginary.” “Dasaka ‘see’ with their minds,” Reidak offered. “Mmm, couldn’t be that simple,” Thok dismissed, scratching his jutted chin with his ice pick. “Reidak, your never honed your close-reading skills, did you?” “I only learn important things,” muttered Reidak. “You have tragic priorities, then,” Thok tutted. “How can thunder be bright?” Avak pondered as he dribbled up to the door. “Thunder’s a noise, not a sight.” “There are some serious synesthesia issues in this rhyme,” Vezok agreed. “Mind’s don’t see, and you can’t see sound either.” “What if the whole rhyme is just there to mess with us?” Hakann proposed with a knowing leer. “What if it, like everything else, means… nothing?” “Hakann, rhyming things are always important,” Thok parried pedantically. “As are all alliterated articles. Really, did none of you study literature?” “We did not come here to discuss the merits of the writing on the wall,” Zaktan spat impatiently. “We came to go beyond it. Look up.” The others followed Zaktan’s pointer finger to a discernible hole in the ceiling, camouflaged by the stalactites and the deep shadows around it. “That is where we are going. Avak, Reidak, make stairs.” “Don’t tell me what to do,” Reidak and Avak replied in unison. “Jinx! You both owe me drinks!” Thok giggled. “That isn’t how it works,” Vezok snorted. “It should be,” Thok replied smugly. “Make the stairs,” Zaktan ordered deliberately, his intonation that of an aggravated beehive. Not seeing a suitably revolutionary alternative, Reidak and Avak squared their shoulders and, using the stone and earth of the ground, pulled a steeply spiraling staircase up like a screw from the floor. Zaktan, Antidermis in the pincer of his blade and anticipation flickering on his face, was first to clamber up. The rest of the Piraka, their countenances lighting up greedily, followed. Midway up the narrow, perilous stairs, a few of the gang tried unsuccessfully to push a few of the others off; but seeing Zaktan proceed ahead undeterred without them was ample motivation for the rest of the Piraka not to dally severely. There was profit to be had, and nobody wanted to arrive last to it. Hakann, to his great chagrin, had the misfortune of being at the back of the ascending line. When Hakann made it up into the peculiarly round passage through the hole in the floor, he gave Reidak a purposeful shove, causing the other Skakdi to stumble forward. That moment, a blue brightness – blinding to the Piraka, whose eyes had for so long been adjusted to the dark – flared up, seemingly from everywhere. The white-green quartz embedded in the walls of the tunnel carried the Abettor’s sigil-light, though none of the Piraka could have noticed this, as all twelve of their eyes were screwed shut and covered by their hands. A sequence of mechanical noises, including the rasps of metal-on-metal and a definite click, preceded the behemoth’s first words. “Identify yourselves,” the ocean-deep, tinny voice rumbled. “I’m Thok,” Thok declared as proudly as he could while he still rubbed vigorously at his eyes. “Captain of the couch, sultan of style, and commanding officer to these degenerates—” “—That one lies,” Vezok snarled. “He’s no commander of mine. I’m Vezok, and I answer to no one—” “Me neither!” agreed Avak as he buried his pained eyelids in the crook of his arm. “Er, Avak, master mechanic.” “Disregard his speech impediment, he meant to say ‘terrible tinkerer,’” Hakann drawled while he vainly tried to bat away the beams of light with one hand. “I am Hakann, god-eater. I drink my foes.” “…You drink your foes?” Vezok snorted incredulously while he reached behind himself to find a piece of wall to submerge his face in. “Really, was that the best you could come up with?” Avak asked peevishly. “I’ll drink you—” “—Uch, no thanks—” “Two of you have still not identified yourselves,” the Abettor clacked, pummeling the Skakdi’s voices into silence. “Identify yourselves.” “I’m Reidak,” said Reidak. “I am Zaktan,” Zaktan stated, his eyes closed but uncovered as he faced the bright blue of the Abettor’s presence. “We are the Piraka.” “We do not know what Piraka are,” the Abettor said. “Why are you here.” “Who’s asking?” Avak griped. “We are asking,” answered the Abettor simply. “How helpful,” Hakann commented. “What ‘we?’” called Reidak. “We are the Abettor.” “Oh, so there’s more than one,” Vezok concluded. “Or we could be addressing royalty,” Thok suggested with his signature grin. “Forgive the idiocy of the others, your Majesty, they know not to whom they speak. I implore you to punish them lightly; I’d recommend nothing more serious than a complete atomization—” “We have come to enter the Vault!” Zaktan roared. His voice, a fractured thunderclap, was of rare volume and avowal. Something capricious, almost fanatical, flared in his eyes, which he’d forced open in spite of the blue brilliance. The others, very much unused to hearing Zaktan speak so ferociously, quieted. The Abettor let the silence rest uncomfortably upon the shoulders of its guests for what felt like an age. By now, the Piraka’s eyes had recovered enough that they could all squint at the gigantic shape in front of them, make out some of the random letters covering its thick body. All heard a click-drag-click, and something in the center of the Abettor’s canister-shaped torso – unidentifiable in the Piraka’s hazy vision – moved. When the motion stopped, the Abettor spoke again. “Our duty is to maintain the integrity of the Vault,” it boomed. “Therefore, your request to enter it is rejected. It is against our directive to permit the unworthy to enter this way.” “I am not unworthy,” Zaktan sneered contentiously as he stepped closer to the behemoth. With surprising speed, the Abettor shifted itself on its haunches, adapting a more combative posture. The top of its cylindrical body brushed the roof of the tunnel, and the crystal that it had instead of one forearm glowed ominously. The Kanohi in its chest – a Sanok, its eye sockets empty and dark, a glowing branded onto its forehead – seemed to glare down at Zaktan, daring him to take another step. “Advance at your peril,” the Abettor warned in its flat voice. Zaktan answered by raising his scissor arm and dexterously flipping his tool around in his hand, so that the pincer bearing the vial of Antidermis was pointed like a weapon at the Abettor. “Do you know what this is?” Zaktan asked behind a snakelike scowl. “We do,” the Abettor clacked. “However, the Makuta’s favor does not equate with worthiness. We do not serve the Makuta.” “Zaktan, are you sure we have the right tunnel?” Vezok asked, careful not to take any steps forward himself. “It’s the right tunnel,” Reidak growled as he appraised the Abettor. “But Zaktan clearly lied about the Antidermis.” “Zaktan, a… liar?” Thok swooned tragically. “Tell me it isn’t so!” Vezok’s doubt, Reidak’s aggression, and Thok’s mockery hadn’t perturbed Zaktan in the slightest. Just as the faux-fainting Thok fell unceremoniously against an unprepared Hakann – who promptly let him fall to the ground in disgust – Zaktan resorted to using the Antidermis as more than a symbol. With a flick of his flickering wrist, Zaktan sent the vial spinning across the tunnel towards the Abettor. The Abettor was prodigiously, ridiculously quick, and even before the vial would have collided with its massive chest, the behemoth had raised its crystal forearm and sent a pulse of blue energy at it. The crystal container was transformed immediately into water… but the Antidermis itself did not change. Surrounded by a glob of liquid, its momentum unbroken – seemingly accelerated, even – the Antidermis collided fully with the Abettor’s cylindrical core, just to the side of its Sanok. While the water it’d been housed in splashed harmlessly off in all directions, the green-black Antidermis clung to the Abettor upon contact. As though pulled down a drain, the substance that was neither liquid nor gas slithered laterally into the Abettor’s central cavity. The Abettor jerkily raised its hands to the aperture, and rotated its wheel of Kanohi back and forth at frantic speed, but to no avail; it could not draw any of the Antidermis out. The behemoth only struggled for a few moments. Soon, as if it’d been sedated, the robot slumped slightly, and the blue letters splayed across its body faded in brilliance. None of the Piraka moved or spoke, as the Abettor’s slackness was only temporary. A second after it’d drooped, the guardian pulled itself back up to its vigilant posture, and before the eyes of the six Skakdi, the glowing marks on its body changed color, from pure blue to deep turquoise to sickly green. The eyes in the Abettor’s Kanohi Rode – the mask that, by chance, it’d stopped on – were as empty as ever, but the darkness around the mask in the niche glowed slightly green, and black fog trickled lazily out. “You may enter,” the Abettor said in the same voice as always, turning aside and giving the Piraka ample space to step around. Exchanging grins and enthusiastic high-fives, the Piraka proceeded beyond the tunnel’s guardian, and after all six passed, the corrupted behemoth resumed its protective position, green letters ablaze. It would henceforth allow the Piraka to pass, but no others; this was the subtle power that the Antidermis had wrought upon its soulless mind. At the front of the clump of Piraka, Zaktan led the other five to the end of the round, geode-studded tunnel some distance past the Abettor. After taking an arcing turn to the right, the tunnel ended with another manhole, this one larger than the first. Directly below it resided the top of a broad staircase, wrought wholly from quartz. With whoops and much back clapping, the six hastily tripped down the stairs. The sight of the Vault rendered them all uncharacteristically speechless.

I like to think of each of my characters as embodying a slightly different and heightened part of my human spectrum. They all have root in me, though.

Maybe. I find the idea to be kinda silly but who am I to decide anything.

The Rahkshi can't reproduce, but you guys shouldn't worry about running out of them.