Nuju Metru

I made a digital colored version for the BZPRPG:

I can say that it's nothing you've ever seen before. Nobody should make assumptions based on canon here, because those assumptions won't necessarily be right.

Chapter II: The Snake.

IC: Few things irritated Zaktan so promptly as flies. This one, an exceptionally loud specimen, had been bouncing off the ceiling of the dark bungalow for the last few minutes. Since flitting in through an open porthole, the insect had explored the Piraka’s seaside shanty, darting about its various rooms – Avak’s cluttered workshop, the arsenal filled with Jitter crates and Zamor Launchers, and the oft-abused lounge, to name a few – on an erratic and meaningless route. On its impromptu tour, the fly’s kaleidoscope eyes had seen everything: the hodgepodge walls, which were part submarine, part driftwood, and part corrugated metal; Reidak’s collection of mounted Rahi heads, frequently vandalized and used for target practice; the couches, torn up and battered from countless altercations; the piles of stolen goods; the corner full of cracked mirrors. All the while, the fly had buzzed and whined. As it zoomed hither and thither about the bungalow, the insect’s persistent buzz fluctuated from high to low, near to far; yet all frequencies were of equal aggravation to Zaktan. Every separate particle of his being felt the drone of the fly like an itch, a maddeningly tiny – and for this, keenly felt – shiver across his body. Zaktan was particularly sensitive to sound, he had been ever since the change; this was the only thing he disliked about his unique condition. The Piraka’s leader sat on a stool in the middle of the lounge, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward and tried to ignore the noise. His form, as always, was subtly flickering, as if captured behind a finely woven, shivering screen; the minuscule Protodites that composed his body were always moving – barely, but perceptibly enough to be off-putting – even when composed into their default arrangement. In a static position like the one he currently occupied, Zaktan was never still. This was part of the reason the other Piraka treated him with caution; they could never anticipate his attacks, because he was always moving. As the fly’s random trajectory brought it especially close to Zaktan – the bug passed only a few inches from the back of his head – the Skakdi’s body lurched with particular violence, all the Protodites that composed it reacting to the aggravating hum simultaneously. One of Zaktan’s clawed hands swung back at the sound of the fly with the speed of a striking cobra, but to no avail; Zaktan was fast, but his foe was irregular. The fly dodged his swat with seeming ease – and, infuriatingly, seeming ambivalence – to continue roaming about the room. It was taunting him. “Oh no,” fretted a voice from a corner of the room behind Zaktan. Though it spoke with a semblance of earnest concern, the molten sarcasm beneath its words was shamelessly audible. Hakann, leaning against the wall, was picking at his teeth in one of the cracked mirrors, pausing every now and again to flash his reflection what he doubtless imagined was a charming smile. He kept watching Zaktan through the mirror as he spoke again. “I guess I was wrong about you… Turns out you would hurt a fly. Or, excuse me, try to… after all, intent and achievement are two very different things.” “You would know,” called Avak snidely from his adjacent workshop. The next of his words were punctuated by the ringing noises of a hammer onto a piece of plate metal. “After all, you’ve. Never. Achieved. Anything.” “So harsh, so mean.” Hakann shot back, melodramatically raising a hand to his brow. “See me cry, see me weep. You have stung me too deeply this time, oh the tragedy, I could die.” “You’re wrong, Avak,” Thok said from the couch. His flat feet were crossed on the table, tapping absently. His teeth were bared in their habitual grin, and his sharp fingers were clasped lazily over his reclining belly. “Hakann has achieved something: unprecedented levels of idiocy.” “Now now, Thok,” Hakann sneered, angling his bone toothpick into the next gap. “Credit where credit is due. Reidak won that plaque. He sleeps with it under his pillow.” Reidak responded by chucking the hefty dumbbell he’d been curling at the back of Hakann’s head. The Skakdi of Fire, though, saw the weaponized weight coming in the mirror and ducked below it. The dumbbell hit one of the few untouched mirrors, promptly shattering it. Hakann whirled about, growling at Reidak, who growled back. “Reidak, you’ve killed him!” Thok gasped over the animal rumbles, sitting up as his grin widened evermore. “Murder! You’ve killed Hakann’s only love: his reflection!” That elicited a muffled snigger from Avak; Reidak chuckled darkly, and Hakann scowled. Zaktan, meanwhile, was acutely aware of the fly’s return to the room. He would not be humiliated again by a failed attempt at the insect’s life; he would be better served by turning the insect into an example. A serpentine sneer, etched in lines of calculation, manifested slickly on Zaktan’s lips. The fly was fast, but it was stupid. And like all foes, it could be predicted. At once, Zaktan stood from his stool, and the suddenness of his movement stopped the Piraka’s argument cold. For an instant, they thought that he was going to lash out, as he sometimes did unexpectedly; instead, he made his way over to the pile of stolen goods. A few moments’ silent rummaging, and Zaktan emerged again with a glass jar of Le-Koronan honey. “What’re you doing with that?” Avak snarled from the doorway; the silence in the adjacent room had pulled him from his workshop. “That’s mine, I stole it fair and square!” Zaktan didn’t deign to reply. His body noticeably quaked again; the fly had flown too close once more. But Zaktan did not let the insect faze him. He popped open the honey and stuck one of his fingers deep inside; when he pulled it out, viscous amber concentrate covered the green digit. Zaktan closed and set down the jar, then extended his clean hand to earth. His three-bladed scissor, which had been resting there, dissolved into its component Protodites and flew as a gold cloud to his hand. Zaktan raised his reformed blade into position and waited. Hakann rudely broke the silence. “What’re you–“ Before Hakann could finish his query, Zaktan answered with action. The fly, attracted by the sweet aroma of the honey, approached the bait and, ceasing to buzz, alighted on Zaktan’s claw to gorge itself. The instant that it landed, Zaktan let his finger melt into Protodites, and the needle-sharp scissor blades held in his opposite hand nicked back and forth through the space his finger had just occupied. The next moment, he slowly lowered his blades, and his honeyed finger was dense again. As the other Piraka gathered in a rough circle about him, Zaktan extended his finger languidly outwards and slowly turned in a circle, so that all could see what was stuck fast to the honey on his finger’s tip: the two discrete halves of a small insect. He stopped his rotation at Hakann, and made nonchalant eye contact with the Skakdi of Fire. Zaktan was the shorter one, but Hakann felt diminutive. "Intent and achievement are as one for me,” Zaktan hissed. “I can hurt flies. I can hurt you. If I want to.” He looked down at his honeyed finger, then put it in his mouth and licked it clean, fly and all. ... Zaktan had heard the insanity voice in his head ever since the submarine. It spoke again to him that night; it was as insubstantial, yet dominant, as ever. As though it was very far away, the voice wavered; as though it was rushed, it did not mince words. Wake. I am awake, Zaktan answered hastily in his mind. He wanted to seize the voice this time. Power in Vault. Tell me how to obtain it, and it shall be mine. Abettor. How do I overcome it? Outside. As unexpectedly as it had come, the voice was lost, like a thought straying on the tantalizing edge of recollection. For a still, panicked moment, Zaktan struggled to recall what the voice had said, but then he remembered: outside. He wasted no time; he sat up and exited the bungalow at quiet speed. It wouldn’t do for the others to follow him. The rushing of the sea in the distance and the salt on the night air greeted him. The orb of the sky was dark at night; starlight peeked through the volcanic smog only in fleeting places. A red pinpoint was one of these, and this was positioned directly before Zaktan. He knew that he was to advance that way. As he walked duck-footed through the dry, dead grass, Zaktan’s toe hit and gently kicked something that didn’t feel like grass. He knelt and sifted his fingers back and forth through the grass until his touch strayed upon what he discovered he sought. It was a small vial made of sturdy, hexagonal crystal, thinly wrought so that its contents were clearly visible even when lit by the black eye of the heavens. Zaktan’s countenance rippled bizarrely, and his crimson eyes glowered; he recognized the black-green contents of the vial, which swirled of their own accord, at once. Antidermis.

IC: "All things in this world are related," the Abettor responded shortly to Ignitus. The behemoth then turned to JL; one of the pistons in its legs hissed softly in response to his approach, an indicator of how quickly the Abettor would spring into action if necessary. "Why are you here."

IC: The arrival of a second Toa seemed not to have fazed the Abettor. "Identify yourself," the behemoth commanded the newcomer, speaking those words exactly as it had to Ignitus before.

IC: "There is not someone," the Abettor answered. Ignitus' shoulders sagged in disappointment; by the moment, the dark cavities that were the Abettor's eyes gained definition in his hazy, blue-washed view. To Ignitus' surprise, though, the Abettor continued to speak after a moment's hesitation, its voice curiously cadenced, tinnier. "However, there are perhaps ways to gain the knowledge you seek." "There are?" Ignitus asked, his vigor suddenly renewed. "What ways do you speak of?" "A seasonal star chart, and a map," the Abettor said.

IC: "No," the voice answered simply. Ignitus found that he could open his eyes at last - albeit, if they were squinted - and that the world of indiscriminate blue was gaining hazy definition at last. The metal voice went on. "That is beyond our knowledge. We are not the sagacity you seek."

Eons of Dasaka looking for mental edges over one another, and finding nothing, says nope.

IC: "We know you as nothing," the voice replied simply. Ignitus heard something metal in the voice's direction shift, then click into place. "Why are you here."

IC: Ignitus clambered up into a round tunnel. He found himself facing total darkness, and took a step forward to get a better look at it. At once, the tunnel was different; blinding blue light flared up seemingly from everywhere, causing Ignitus to gasp with shock and pain as his eyes squeezed tight instinctively. The blue light cowed him into stillness, felt like it was beating down on his eyelids with the weight of hammers. The flame in his hand, unattended in the face of the overwhelming cerulean luminescence, went out. "Identify yourself," a deep, metallic voice said, making Ignitus' bones rattle.

Does it really matter?

Thinking about time in this game makes my head hurt. Just think of the Dasaka as identical to Toa in biology and lifespan and everything else.

If you guys hadn't noticed, a few player-created clans have been added to the DMRP for your character-creating pleasure. Several of the clans have more in-depth descriptions on the Wiki (or, they should, if their creators are doing their jobs).

The Dasaka speak the same language as the people of Mata Nui.

Yes, as long as they're of Menti warrior class or lower.

You may find some interesting stuff in SECTION V. The fun really begins now! Important Notes: Reread all of Section V - and probably the Dasaka Master Reference Post - at least once before you do anything. I mean it.The Kentoku Topic has been reopened with the understanding that ONLY DASAKA CHARACTERS MAY POST THERE.There is no current contact between Mata Nui and the Archipelago at this point; any ICs that suggest otherwise (Toa washing up on Kentoku? Dasaka going to and from Mata Nui?) will be deleted. For the time being, Dasaka are the only people on Kentoku, and Kentoku is the only place they can be.I'll try to get back to you guys on Petition PMs as soon as I can, and I'll probably have many of them to field; please forgive any resulting brusqueness in my verdicts. You can save me a little headache by not replying (alas, not even a kind "thank you") to my verdicts; it just becomes another unread PM, after all.Be careful about playing "rebellious" or "counterculture" Dasaka; bear in mind that the way society works over on Kentoku is very different than on Mata Nui, and transgressors are treated very differently there. You guys are all pioneers in developing the world of the Kentoku Archipelago; the best way to do this new part of the BZPRPG world justice is to realize it accurately. I look forward to seeing all of your Dasaka Characters!

This was lost in the dataclysm. I wanted it to be here again, mostly for archival purposes.

LICK: White sand dented easily beneath the steps of the small party as they traversed the ocean's edge. The group walked in a neat column two wide and five long. On shifting beach ground, such a formation wasn't easy to maintain; nevertheless, the party's decorum never faltered as it strode forward. The hems of the group's mottled deep red and purple capes, draped fully around their bodies despite the blazing sun overhead, joined with their feet to continually create the soft rustle of moving sand. To the right of the column, a trio of smaller beings’ wet footfalls was distinct from this rustle. Tsura, followed almost reluctantly by her two Dashi shadows, walked parallel to the others, but in the tidal zone. Water, its charge edged with white foam, lapped over the feet of the Datsue and her escorts before retreating along the slick sand to reform in another small wave. Tsura seemed to revel in the rhythm, as a slight smile was fixed on her face. The two Dashi carried the hem of her cape at their waists so that it would not become wet. This made Nihi grin a little; Tsura could care less about formalities, she was above them, but she was perfectly willing to use her formally assigned shadows to her advantage. Nihi was in the third row of the column, on the seaward side, and her friend Saru was next to her. At the front of the column their commander, Nurora, defined the pace of their advance. Nurora had also determined this course of action; she wanted to find the nearest settlement, and had assumed that, like on the Archipelago, civilization was likely close to the sea. The fish were plentiful here, like back home, so Nihi thought it was a reasonable assumption. The choice to travel north rather than south along the coast was arbitrary. The lone Skakdi the Dasaka had encountered where they'd landed, Grokk, hadn't been much help in finding the nearest civilization. After a brief and generally uninformative interrogation, Tsura had concluded that Grokk had reached the extent of his usefulness and had let him leave, which he'd done with many verbal snipes as he'd carried the remains of his chair and his stupid little toy back into the jungle. He had been horribly rude, not only to Nihi - she could take that - but to older and wiser beings than himself, too. He was without honor, it was deplorable... Thinking about the impertinent Skakdi made Nihi's insides burn with outrage. She was grateful that, as Grokk had revealed, the main inhabitants of the island weren't Skakdi. Nihi had only encountered a handful of Skakdi, and she'd already had more exposure to their kind than she wanted in a lifetime. Grokk hadn't just been impolite; sarcastic, deceptive, and with an air of nonchalant cruelty that had made her skin crawl, he had reinforced Nihi's unfavorable impressions about his race. He had confirmed for Nihi that the evil she had experienced in the others ran bone-deep. Not that such knowledge forgave their crimes. The others, when they had arrived on the Archipelago, had been by all accounts as facetious as Grokk, all smiles and false kindness. But it hadn't taken long for their masks to fall, for the cruelty underneath to show its face. They were terrible creatures - not people, she decided angrily, but creatures - and they had wrought terrible damages... Not only upon the Order and Honor of her people, but upon Nihi herself. ... Waves licked with soft tongues against the hexagonal, crystal-wrought pillars of the pier. It was not uncommon for fishes to swim headlong into the translucent pillars that, below the surface of the green water, became nearly invisible; many Saihoko fisherwomen actually used this phenomenon to their advantage, spearing their dazed prey before the fish regained their bearings. But that only happened during the bustle of the day. It was nighttime now, and the marina was closed as usual to discourage the performance of illicit activities under cover of darkness. Under an array of large lightstone lanterns, Nihi and her sister Nachi stood sentinel on either side of the latticed gate to the pier. They held their long staffs with a looseness bred by practiced familiarity; even Menti warriors assigned to jobs as unexciting as night shift dock guards had to be expert warriors. Power and Order went hand in hand, after all. Nihi didn't mind that her position wasn't as active or glamorous as soldiering under a Toroshu, or even dueling in the coliseum; she enjoyed her post. She liked living at night, when things were quiet. She liked sleeping during the day. And it was a great honor to serve the Rora, no matter how distantly. She and Nachi, as was their wont, faced landward towards the great towers of Sado. On a clearer night, their glass-like polygonal surfaces would reflect all the stars of the heavens; sometimes, in the right season, she and Nachi were even given a clear reflected view of the Red Star in one of the pinnacles of the palace. They could always have looked over their shoulders to see it behind them, but there was something more special about seeing its mirror image. Tonight, though, was overcast, so the towers were blank with darkness. Some still had lights on, but it was very late. Nihi wondered who else would be awake. She bounced a little up and down on the wooden boards of the pier absently. :Antsy, sister?: Nachi asked playfully, her feel familiar as the back of Nihi's hand. They usually talked like this; it was faster than using their mouths, and easier to listen for rogue noises. :We still have several hours,: she went on, looking away from her sister with a slight grin. :Don't tell me you're already at the bouncing stage.: :I wasn't thinking,: Nihi replied. :It's something I do when I'm not thinking.: :You're always not thinking, then,: Nachi projected back. :Because I swear you start bouncing earlier every night.: :Maybe I do... just to get on your nerves.: :Funny. Tell me what you're thinking about: :Didn't we just establish that I wasn't thinking?: :We both know you're thinking. Spare yourself the nagging, and just tell me what it is.: :Well,: Nihi answered finally, eyebrows raised as she continued to regard the towers, :I always wonder who's up there at this hour.: :More poor fools like us, assigned night shifts?: Nachi prodded. :Maybe.: :Maybe they're looking at us, just like we look at them.: :Captivated by our beauty, no doubt-: A noise drew both of their attention. Far behind them, there was a muffled thud, like a box landing on the planks of the dock, and a profanity. A shushing noise, louder than it was probably intended, followed the profanity. Nihi and her sister looked at one another, and that was all the communication they needed. Nachi unlocked the door of the gate behind them, and Nihi pushed the doors slowly open, trying not to draw attention. It would be easier to catch whoever was there if they were caught unawares. Nihi and Nachi crept as quietly as they could, using stacks of crates and food for cover. The pair of voices became clearer as they approached the end of the dock. "Watch it!" whispered the first one. "That was my foot." "You seem to think I care about your foot," sneered back the second quietly. "Better watch my foot, Thok, or it could end up somewhere unpleasant for you," snarled the first. "Be careful with the crates, we don't want to waste any of them. Be gentle, get that through your conniving head." Nihi and Nachi were within a few yards of the pair of smugglers. Nihi peeked up over a bamboo barrel. It was dark, but not too dark for the silhouettes of the two beings to be lost against the sky. One was on the edge of the dock, next to a stack of crates; the other was standing on the back of a surfaced submarine. The top hatch was open, and light spewed up from it. As the smuggler on the submarine lowered his crate to somebody inside, his face turned towards the source of illumination, and Nihi could see clearly that this was no Dasaka. It was one of the gang. She'd only heard stories, but she knew they were extremely dangerous… and sentenced to death. :Should we get help?: Nihi asked her sister through the mental plane. :They could be gone by then,: Nachi replied. :I get the feeling that isn't their sub.: "Don't we have enough of these things, Avak?" asked a third voice, canny-sounding from inside the submarine, drawing the sisters' attention. "You don't know how to be quiet, do you, Vezok?" Avak, the first voice, hissed in retort. He was the one standing on the back of the submarine, whose face Nihi had seen. "Well?" asked the second voice, Thok, in low tones. Nihi thought it sounded like this voice was smiling, but coldly. "You heard the brute. It's a valid question: don't we have enough of these things, already?" "No, Thok," Avak whispered, exasperated. "And since I'm the only one who'll know how to operate this thing, what I say goes. Give me the next crate." :I don't like the look of those crates,: Nihi told her sister, fingering the haft of her staff nervously. :Do you think their contents are dangerous?: Nachi asked. :Knowing the reputation of this lot? Yes.: :What should we do? They outnumber us.: :Not by much.: Before Thok could pass Avak the next crate, and before Nihi and Nachi could decide whether or not to act, there was a pronounced thump, the slap of a new pair of flat feet falling seemingly from nowhere onto the back of the submarine next to Avak. Avak, in his shock, almost slipped; under different circumstances, Nihi might have laughed at his flailing limbs and wide eyes. Instead, she felt a stone of dread drop in her stomach; a fourth one had just arrived. By the light of the porthole, she could see that there was something odd about his figure. It was almost like the newcomer was constantly, subtly melting, and then righting himself, and then melting a little again. It was nauseating to watch for too long, so she resolved not to. Nihi didn’t understand how this freak had come from thin air; neither, it seemed, did Avak. Righting himself amidst chuckles from Vezok, who had since poked his head up out of the porthole, Avak glared at the newcomer. “So you teleport too now, Zaktan?” “No, you cool dude,” Thok grinned, delighting in his euphemized insult. Avak scowled. “He must have reformed up in the air, too far away for us to hear him buzz-” Nihi didn’t understood what this meant until the newcomer, Zaktan, began to speak; then, it was as though the stone in her stomach was instantly turned to ice. His voice was like a swarm of bees, and it was full of malice. He was slightly shorter than Avak, but Avak quailed a little before him. “You were going to leave without me,” Zaktan stated quietly. “No offense, Zaktan, but you’re not ideal company in a little thi-” Thok interjected, seeming to think that his distance from Zaktan afforded him a little safety to prod. He was wrong; before Nihi’s eyes, Zaktan dissolved into a black-green cloud - no wonder he’d been almost invisible against the night sky - and closed the gap between himself and Thok in a fraction of a second. Still a buzzing swarm, Zaktan whirled about Thok’s head, causing Thok to lose his balance and tumble backwards over the pier. He landed in the water with a colossal splash, and Zaktan flitted back to his place beside Avak, a three-bladed sword now clutched in his hand. Where had that come from? :Four is now three,: Nachi told her sister urgently. :We need to act, NOW.: Thok’s splash had shattered the gang’s hushed tones. Avak stared down Zaktan with as much bravado as he could muster. “I’m the only one who’s gonna know how to operate our escape vehicle,” he reasoned, evidently quite pleased with his logic. “You can’t hurt me.” Zaktan seemed to agree, despite his wishes to the contrary. He snarled and, for good measure, kicked Vezok’s exposed head back into the sub, where he landed with an audible “ouch.” Zaktan dropped his weapon beside him as he assumed Thok’s old position and started handing Avak more of the crates. Below him, Thok thrashed in the water, struggling to keep his head over the surface. Skakdi were terrible swimmers. “Our companion in the ocean will have undoubtedly drawn attention with his racket,” Zaktan said as he grabbed another crate from the pyramid. “Speed, rather than silence, is our new priority. The Dasaka will arrive soon-” “The Dasaka are already here,” Nachi called aloud as she stood up, her staff held in a battle position. Nihi hastily joined her sister. She supported Nachi’s move; a surprise attack was no longer their best option, as this enemy outmatched them at the moment, and support was surely on the way. All they had to do was keep the gang busy for long enough. Together, the sisters faced the three, ready for their attack. The Skakdi hesitated a moment in their surprise, and Nihi reached into the familiar place in her mind; she was ready to use that crate still in Zaktan’s hands to punch him over the edge of the dock, so he could join Thok in the sea. Her fingers twitched on her staff, and she started to bounce in her knees. Just as the gang was about to strike, a furious leonine roar from behind Nihi and Nachi stopped them. Nihi turned to look for the source of the roaring while Nachi kept her eyes trained on the Skakdi before them; even when caught by surprise, the sisters’ strategic cooperation was instinctual. Luckily, the Skakdi before Nachi weren’t taking advantage of the division of their Dasaka foes’ attentions; they, like Nihi, faced the noise. Nihi watched as two more Skakdi, silhouetted by the bright lightstones behind them, tore down the pier as fast as they could. Nihi hadn’t heard the gate busted open, and then she remembered to her frustration that she and Nachi had never relocked it. The footfalls of the incoming Skakdi were heavy on the wooden boards; they jumped over and around the obstacles that Nihi and Nachi had used for cover as if they weren’t there. She saw one of them execute a running hurdle-jump so perfect that it could have belonged in the coliseum games. Nihi prepared her staff for the incoming Skakdi; the icy stone in her stomach had long ago melted to the anticipatory pounding of her heart. She and her sister were about to be surrounded by their foes. But when the charging Skakdi reached the two Dasaka, they did not stop. One of them pounded straight through the sisters, knocking them aside and battering through the bamboo barrel like it was a paper wall. The second one had ran up a tall stack of boxes as if it was a ramp and leapt clean over the Dasaka’s heads, roaring the same battle cry as had drawn their attention before. Nihi watched the Skakdi charge like bulls at their companions. The one that had broken through the barrel dove for Zaktan as though intent to tackle him from the waist. Clearly, the tackler hadn’t differentiated Zaktan from the others in the darkness and at the speed he was going; too late to change his momentum, he passed straight through Zaktan, who had once more become a dark cloud, and fell flailing head-first into the water below. The crate Zaktan had dropped when he dissolved broke against one of the pier pillars, releasing a virulent-looking, fluorescent green mist from its splinters. The second Skakdi, the jumper, landed just in front of Avak, and swung a heavy weapon at his face. Avak ducked and picked up his own weapon. The two began to trade swipes, and their weapons clanged against one another. Hearing the noises of commotion, Vezok emerged from the porthole, narrowly avoiding being kicked into the sub for a second time. He swung his own weapon in the direction of the newcomer, and an arc of what looked like daggers sped point-first through the air at the dueling duo. Avak and his assailant split apart just in time to dodge the projectiles, then both turned on Vezok, growling. :Infighting,: Nihi pointed out. Nachi nodded. Zaktan reformed amidst the dissipating cloud of luminescent green gas, but he didn’t watch the other Skakdi’s squabble. His eyes, red and glowing, were fixed on Nihi and her sister. He took a few steps towards them - Nihi absurdly noted that he walked a little like a duck - and he reached out his hand behind himself. The three-bladed sword he’d set down earlier turned into a cloud, just like he’d done several times, and sped like a mass of flies into his hand, where it reformed quickly. The golden blades caught the light of the distant lightstones; they gleamed, and Nihi knew that they would cut as surely as any other knife. “Fools,” Zaktan hissed at the other Skakdi, without turning his eerie gaze from the Dasaka. “These are our true enemies.” “I don’t know about that,” the new Skakdi growled, snorting at Avak. “You were all perfectly happy to leave Reidak and me on this karzforsaken rock.” “You woulda done the same to us, Hakann,” Vezok pointed out. “An irrelevant fact,” the one called Hakann said, rolling his eyes. “And I’m perfectly willing to leave Reidak and Thok down there,” Avak interjected, listening to their continued attempts to swim. Thok, it seemed, was trying vainly to clamber up one of the smooth-sided pillars, while Reidak tried to force him back under the water. “Let ‘em drown,” Vezok laughed. “I guess we can agree on something,” Hakann smiled sardonically, until his black humor was withered by a look from Zaktan. As one, the four Skakdi turned to look at the two Dasaka, whose staffs were still held ready in combat. “We won’t let you leave,” Nachi said. Nihi envied her sister’s nerves of steel, her stoicism; Nihi kept bouncing lightly on her toes. She wasn’t afraid, just antsy. “When your friend is shivering like that?” Avak giggled back. “I don’t think I can take your threat too seriously if one of you is so jumpy.” Nihi proved Avak wrong by sending a box of Ikian artisanal pebbles squarely into his face with her mind. His head snapped back; she hoped she’d killed him. No such luck; Avak’s grin had become a grimace. As he cracked his neck to either side, wincing, the other Skakdi laughed their ugly laughs and readied their own weapons for the fight to come. “Come at us,” Nihi challenged, no longer bouncing. The Skakdi would have charged if a sudden noise had not broken the tense standoff for a second time. There was a great rush of water as a tall pillar of earth and ice seemed to explode out of the seabed, punching the water out of its way. On top of its flat pinnacle were two soaked and irate-looking Skakdi. “Sometimes, teamwork can be effective,” Thok called down, his inane smile plastered back on his face below burning eyes. The one who had jumped off the pier through Zaktan, who Nihi assumed was Reidak, shook himself off like a dog and then leapt nimbly down onto the top of one of the pier supports. Thok clambered down the rough elemental pillar less ceremoniously, but arrived next to his kin nevertheless. He and Reidak looked ready to divorce Zaktan’s head from his body, but something kept them back. They only stared at him; Zaktan returned their looks impassively, though his face twitched a little more violently than usual. Nihi took advantage of the Skakdi standoff to grab one of their mysterious crates and fling it into Hakann. It burst against him in a poof of the same green gas as had enveloped Zaktan, but Hakann breathed it in deeply, showily, and only laughed. He gave the other five significant looks. Chuckling too, they started their advance on the sisters. Nachi swung her staff at the closest one, Vezok, catching him unawares with her speed and cracking into his jaw. In angry response, he sent a flurry of the same dagger-things arching towards Nachi. Nachi batted some of them aside; the rest, she sidestepped. Nihi dropped a nearby coil of rope on Avak with her mind, letting go of it just in time to block a downward chop from Reidak’s weapon. She caught the haft of his weapon on the haft of hers; inches from her face, the buzzsaw at the end of Reidak’s tool spun uselessly through the air. Nachi leapt over a kneecapping blow from Thok, spinning in midair so that her foot scythed into his shoulder, knocking him towards Zaktan, who shoved him straight again. Despite the sisters’ defensive success, though, the gang still refused to kick into high gear. Nihi could tell; as the Skakdi gradually walked her and Nachi backwards on the pier, Nihi noticed that, aside from Vezok - who rubbed his jaw - they were all grinning. Even Zaktan wore a humorless leer. They were toying with the Dasaka. What were they playing at? :What is he doing?: Nachi asked her sister as she parried a lazy swipe from Zaktan. Further down the dock, Nihi saw who she was talking about. Hakann hadn’t advanced with the rest of the gang. He had an open crate under one arm and was occupied with the other submarines on the dock. Sequentially, Hakann jumped on top of each one’s surfaced back, unscrewed the top porthole, and dropped a few of what Nihi saw to be acid-green spheres from his crate inside. Then, quickly as he could, Hakann resealed the portholes and moved on to the next sub. Whatever the spheres did, Nahi guessed that it had to impair the submarines. Hakann was, somehow, sabotaging the subs that might follow his gang’s vehicle during its eventual escape. The other five Skakdi, the ones driving her and her sister back, were merely his diversion. Nihi was briefly astounded by the degree of cooperation among the lot of them; just minutes earlier, they had been at each others’ throats. Common interest, she supposed, had a unifying effect on thieves like these. Nachi seemed to have caught on as quickly as her sister. After the briefest of shared glances, both surged forward, breaking through the line of Skakdi. A well-placed blow from Nachi’s staff collided solidly with Thok’s gut, and Nihi used her staff like a pole to vault over Reidak’s shoulder, narrowly outswinging the arc of his buzzsaw over his shoulder. Hakann saw the Dasaka coming and reached for his weapon, but not in time; Nachi raised her hand as she sprinted, and it went skittering along the surface of the dock, nearly falling off the edge. Meanwhile, Nihi lunged forward, clocked him with her staff. By now, the other Skakdi were following, and Nachi had to wheel around to make sure that her sister was not vulnerable. Vezok, perhaps seeking revenge for his jaw, looked at Nachi, and his eyes flashed. Suddenly, Nachi was thrown back a few feet, as if punched by a huge, invisible fist. She was winded, but kept her staff raised and ready. The other Skakdi, though, did not seem as concerned with dealing out retaliatory blows. They, like Nihi, could hear the indistinct murmur of approaching voices. Menti backup would arrive soon, and the gang had clearly decided it was time to leave. Zaktan, who had dissolved into his buzzing cloud again, was the first one to speed to the gang’s chosen submarine. He reformed on the back of the submarine and ushered Avak and Reidak inside, following them down as a cloud again. Vezok was the next-closest, with Hakann on his heels. Just before he leapt onto the back of the sub, though, Vezok grabbed one of the remaining crates of spheres and, chortling, tossed it over his shoulder at Hakann. For the second time, Nihi watched a box of the gas-filled spheres explode over Hakann; as before it didn’t seem to injure him, but it distracted him long enough for Vezok to jump down into the sub alone. Nihi telekinetically threw a nearby fishing spear at Vezok’s retreating head, but he had descended too quickly, and the spear’s tip only broke against the porthole door, its shaft preventing the porthole from closing. Inadvertently, Nihi had saved Thok, last to the edge of the dock, from abandonment; Vezok had not been able to lock the porthole behind himself because of the spear shaft, and so Thok was able to open the door. He threatened to kick Vezok down the hatch another time, and descended uninhibited into the submarine, tossing the spear shaft into the water before closing the door in earnest. Hakann was the only one of the gang left on the dock. As he turned around to face Nachi and Nihi, they all heard the approaching voices grow much clearer, accompanied by the pounding of several pairs of feet. Reinforcements had arrived; Nihi felt the heat of several Soulswords compose their weapons behind her. The glows of the dripping energy blades illuminated the dark end of the dock, and Hakann was bathed in soft light. At the sight of him, several of the other Menti shouted angrily, or gasped. They, like Nihi, could immediately recognize him as one of the gang, as he was clearly not a Dasaka. Several shouts rose above the murmur of the crowd. “It’s... him! What’s-his-name!” “Aren’t they killing him in the morning? Him and the others?” “How did he escape?” “Isn’t he just the handsomest thing?” Hakann cooed back, mocking their tones of surprise. He backed up slowly, until he was at the edge of the dock. Nihi and Nachi, the front of the crowd of assorted night guards, took a step towards him, closing the birth that Hakann had been given. He didn’t seem to like that; he flicked his foot underneath his weapon so that it rose into his waiting claws. Nihi stared down its barrel as he aimed the end of it at her, and in the light of the Soulswords, she saw his wide mouth twitch into a crazed smile. Hakann’s eyes flicked down, took a cursory look at the submarine; even though the hatch was closed, the vehicle hadn’t moved down or away. Evidently, Avak was still trying to figure out how to control it. “Listen, ladies,” Hakann sneered, addressing the crowd of Dasaka. “I’d love to stick around, but the schedule isn’t great. As one of you pointed out, I’m slated to die tomorrow, and I’d rather prefer to keep living.” The barrel of his weapon remained trained on Nihi’s face. She jumped laterally as something at the back of it flashed orange, and a fireball singed her side as it passed. One of the Soulswords nicked at the fireball as it passed, and the energies of her blade managed to divide the burning projectile in two. Its halves nevertheless struck the dock, and lit it rapidly. During the day, the wood of the pier was wetter; it’d had hours in peace to be dried by salty sea breezes, and was as ready as kindling to Hakann’s flame. Before the Dasaka could control it, the fire caught some canvas-covered piles of mercantile goods and became an inferno. Nihi and Nachi, who had been closest to Hakann, were quickly separated from the retreating crowd by a wall of flame, and they were on the same side of that barrier as the Skakdi. He cast another look at the still-motionless sub; barely audible under the crackle of the fire, the shouts of the rest of the gang’s frustration with Avak could be vaguely heard inside. Hakann turned to the Dasaka sisters and shrugged, feigning apology. “They always do this,” he confided sarcastically. “Try to shove me out. It’s just a minor inconvenience, I’ll be out of your way in a-” Nachi ended his words with a jab of her staff. “We aren’t going to let you go, Skakdi,” she growled. Nihi nodded grimly, holding her own staff to his throat, ready to dislodge his windpipe if necessary. The fire was creeping closer and, at last, the submarine had started to move; Nihi could feel its humming engines through the boards of the dock. Hakann seemed to have felt the same thing, because his head turned to watch it inch away. The sub was picking up speed, and would soon be out of his reach. “I beg to differ,” Hakann crooned slyly. He darted back from Nihi’s staff, leaving it hanging in nothingness, and ducked under it. As Nachi lunged at him, the Skakdi executed the maneuver Vezok had pulled on him earlier, and tossed a crate of the spheres over his shoulder at the one who pursued him. In her memory, Nihi saw the crate fly gently, captured in elongated time, towards her sister. It spun in the air as though one of its corners had been softly tapped. Then the crate splintered against Nachi. Nihi could only assume that her sister hadn’t moved out of the way, or even bothered to swat the crate aside with her mind, because she’d seen twice how little effect the green gas had had on Hakann. Maybe she’d assumed that Hakann had meant for the gas to be a distraction, and hadn’t seen the crate as a danger. Nihi couldn’t know, but she always ran the old question through her head. When the crate hit Nachi, its impact sent her stumbling back. She landed on her rear a few feet from the wall of fire. Weirdly, unnaturally, the cloud of fluorescent gas had followed her down, clinging to Nachi’s person like fog to hills. Nihi, sparing this oddity only a glance, tried to stop Hakann, but he’d already jumped for the back of the submarine. He’d hardly made the leap - one of his hands had snagged a bar on the porthole, and even now his legs still dangled in the water - and that’d been a full second ago. By now, the submarine was completely out of jumping range, so Nihi could not repeat Hakann’s stunt. The gang had won; she knew it, and she hated it. Hakann must have sabotaged the other submarines with that gas, whatever it did, so following their vessel would be impossible for a while, certainly long enough for the six Skakdi to disappear. From behind the wall of fire - a wall being quickly diminished as Mindarms used empty crates to fetch and dump sea water over the blackened wood - the other Dasaka could see that Hakann was gone and the submarine departed. Nihi, cursing the Skakdi, turned back to her sister, expecting her to have gotten up by now. Nachi wasn’t up. She was foaming at the mouth. Her limbs jerked spastically. Her wide eyes were rolled back in her head. Nihi felt like the level ground she stood on had started to tip forward, so far on the diagonal that it would spill her into a void. She was acutely aware of her own heartbeat, the shrill ring in her ears, and the sound of her own breathing. How different it was from her sister’s erratic rasps. “N-no,” Nachi croaked, her voice drawing Nihi’s attentions from bodily rhythms. Nihi could do nothing but stand over Nachi, acutely aware of her own shameful paralysis. Why could she not move? “No, go away,” her sister, her tortured sister, moaned, her head thrashing back and forth against the dock. “G-go away. I’ll… I’ll do it. I-” Nachi tried to finish, but failed. As she had failed to avoid the crate. A second later, her voice was hers again. “Please, please. Go away, go away. I can’t. No, not me. Stay away from that. Her. N-n-no. Not her. Me. ” Something terrible was happening, and Nihi was still motionless, staring down at her sister. Why was she a statue in the face of this? At once, Nachi’s back became a sickening bridge against the dock, and her fingers splayed, twitched, as though grabbing desperately for something. Her mouth was opened wide in a scream that was without voice. Nachi continued to mouth words, and Nihi felt the dryness of her own voice; the stone in her stomach had risen into her throat, and she could speak no more than Nachi. Something was doused in Nihi, something sacred she couldn’t feel until it was gone, and she could finally move. Immediately, Nihi knelt beside her sister, tried to calm her, tried to ease her tensed muscles and joints, but to no avail. More silent screams. Nihi wanted to swallow the stone, she couldn’t watch this, she didn’t know how to help, but she needed to help. :Nachi,: she ventured desperately. :Nachi, you must hear me. Nachi.: There was no reply in her head. Nachi’s jerking, though, grew less, almost ceased. Nihi raised her sister’s head, saw that Nachi’s eyes had closed and the foam dripping from her mouth had ceased. Nihi reached to wipe the spittle off her sister’s chin, but when she touched Nachi, Nachi’s eyes were open again, facing the right way, now. They stared dolefully past Nihi. Nihi turned her sister’s limp head towards herself, but Nachi still looked past her, as though she wasn’t there. The firelight danced in her eyes beside a new companion: ambivalent madness. Nihi could no longer hold down her dry sobs. She cradled Nachi like a babe, inhaling harsh breath that did not save her from feeling as though she was drowning. Nachi rested her head impassively against her sister’s breast, eyes fixated on emptiness. They were as blank as the surfaces of the towers high overhead on this overcast night. Nihi’s hands caressed her sister’s head, and they were shaking together. Nachi was limp, Nihi was helpless. Nihi was holding a familiar body, but it carried the mind of a stranger. Shouting at sea drew Nihi’s wet eyes. Hakann was standing on the top of the sub now, his fire gun pointed at the hatch. He was shouting something about breaking the seal, killing them all, if the others didn’t let him in. Nihi barely took it in as she watched, far away, the top of the submarine open with resentful slowness and Hakann descend. She couldn’t concern herself with the affairs of the Piraka. She could only hate them. … :Everything alright?: Saru asked Nihi. :I’m fine,: Nihi told her friend. Saru could always tell. :You’re not,: Saru replied. She tossed Nihi a covert look. :You’ve got that look on your face again.: :What look?: :You know which look I mean. You don’t need to tell me what brought that up.: :He was just like them,: Nihi finally replied. Saru nodded knowingly. :It made me so angry.: :I was angry too, Nihi,: Saru told her. :For your sake.: :Thank you.: :Do you want to return to your thoughts?: :I just need to think about marching.:

OOC: I figured the Abettor needed a little LICKing. The below was written by both me and Justin Bieber (Eyru). LICK: When his Kanohi halted him, Greed found himself in a stone tunnel. It was far smaller than the cathedral-sized chamber from whence he had come, but still had a high enough ceiling that he could have stood on his own shoulders and not reached it. Somewhere far away was the rhythmic plunking of a solitary drop of water landing in a little puddle; the noise ricocheted down to Greed from an indeterminate distance. The passage ahead, on inspection, was dark and empty. The Toa of Air clutched his lightstone and shone it next to him upon the surface of the passage, revealing the tunnel to be of a very different make than he'd expected. Rather than being rough, covered in stalactites and stalagmites like the subterranean network below, the stone here was smooth and perfectly rounded, save for the occasional, jagged break in its surface. Greed shifted his lantern around to look into one of these, and was dazzled momentarily as light sparked back up at him. The irregular-seeming holes in the rock were the opened faces of geodes, full of white-green quartz. Veins of minerals ran erratically along the surface of the round tunnel. When he took a step forward, everything around Greed changed. Suddenly, ahead of Greed, a wall of blue lights flared into existence, blinding his dark-accustomed eyes. The blue light, brilliant and pure, was caught by the geodes' exposed innards, made the veins of minerals sparkle. The entire tunnel was illuminated at once with cast, reflected, or refracted cerulean luminescence, and Greed's eyelids were poor guardians against the brilliance. He had to keep his eyes shut. He heard an odd series of sounds; a curiously resounding click, followed by a metallic shifting sound, like two swords rubbing against each other, then another click like the first one. Then, there was a tinny, warped, incredibly deep voice. "Identify yourself," the voice clacked. Greed was given the strange image of a lion that had been thrown down a deep, metal well. Still squinting, he hadn't the presence of mind to reply. There was a few seconds of quiet, and then the voice repeated itself, its cadences identical to the first time it'd spoken. "Identify yourself." "I am Greed," Greed said. He tried to open his eyes a sliver, but the light was still too much for him. "Greed is not a name," the voice pondered haltingly. "Greed is a vice." "Greed is my name," Greed growled indignantly. "You are strange," the voice mused mechanically. Its tone hardened, as though suddenly annoyed. "Why are you here." Greed didn't know how to answer that, not exactly, and he didn't feel like explaining himself to somebody - something? - he had just met, anyway. "Why do you want to know?" he shot back. "And who are you?" "We want to know because it is our duty," the voice said. Greed's mind did a double take. We? It was definitely the same voice as ever; a single speaker for a crowd, perhaps? If only he could open his eyes. He tried again, in vain; the blue was too much, still, but it no longer pained him. Slowly, things were coming into focus. The voice went on, answering his other question. "We are the Abettor." "What is that?" Greed asked. He blinked several times, trying to make some sense of the mess of blue-lit blurs in front of his eyes. "We are the guardian," the Abettor (whatever it - they? - was) answered. Something about the way it spoke sent an electrical jolt running up Greed's spine; something about hearing the voice chilled him in a way he didn't understand. "The guardian of... what?" he inquired slowly, rubbing his eyes vigorously. What was he talking to? "The guardian of powerful destiny," the Abettor recited back, its voice a stone banging around the inside of a huge steel drum. Greed shut and opened his eyes again, and he was finally able to see the thing - the titanic, alien thing - that stood before him. The Abettor was almost twice as tall as Greed, and shaped vaguely like him, insofar as it had arms, legs, and a torso. That was where the resemblance stopped. The arms were thick as barrels; the legs had all the solidity of trees, and they were double-jointed like a predator's; the torso was cylindrical, a spilled can propped on top of an oversize Toa's bulging abdominal section, and the shoulders were on either side of the can. There was no head on top of the cylinder; instead, a Kanohi Pakari with empty eye sockets stared out from a cavity in the center of the chest. The Abettor's armor was a dull color, and looked very thick. The source of the blue light that had blinded Greed and turned the tunnel from blackness to brilliance was a myriad of small, glowing letters, arranged in sporadic lines and dots along the imposing thing's body. These seemed to have no reason behind their arrangement, as none of the lines formed real (or even pronounceable) words. A large p was emblazoned onto the forehead of the Pakari. The last thing Greed noticed was that instead of a right hand, the Abettor's powerful forearm merged at the wrist into a rough cluster of crystal that looked a good deal like the geodes around it, save that it was a pale blue color. The odd shiver took Greed again when he eyed the crystal arm. An echoing click drew Greed's attention away from it, and up to the Kanohi in the middle of the Abettor's chest. It was the same click as he'd heard before; just like the first time, the click was followed by the rustle of metal on metal. This time, though, Greed was able to see the source of the strange sounds. On the first click, the empty-eyed Pakari had receded a few inches back into the Abettor's cylindrical torso. On the metallic rustle, the Pakari moved independently down, arcing along the curve of the cylinder so that it slid behind a protruding guard below the niche it had occupied. From under the lip of an identical guard above the niche, a second Kanohi mask emerged into view - a Ruru, emblazoned with a glowing blue y- and then followed the Pakari down out of sight. A third mask - a Kanohi Rode, with the letter j on it - moved into the niche on the same path as the Ruru had, and here the rotating wheel of masks slowed. The same click as before was heard, and the Rode pressed slightly forward, taking the Pakari's place. "Why are you here," the Abettor repeated, stating the inquiry the exact same way as it had the first time. Greed felt, rather than heard, the threat behind the strange Abettor's words. The Toa of Air swallowed uneasily. The iron monstrosity spoke calmly and precisely, without emotion, each robotic syllable only reinforcing its unsettling appearance. Even though the eyes of its Kanohi were empty, Greed could feel this Abettor watching him patiently, and its crystal hand seemed almost wrong, though he couldn't explain why. The blue crystal glowed, as did the lines of Matoran runes that lined its body, spelling out words that didn't exist. "Why are you here.” It wasn't a question: it was a statement. Greed swallowed uneasily, a slight shiver running down his spine. This mechanical being was unreadable; there was no way for the Toa of Air what would happen if he gave a wrong answer. The eyeless mask stared at him, unhurried, but also unmerciful. If eyes were the window to the soul, then the Abettor had none. He clenched his fists, realizing too late that he had left his machete below, in the corpse of the Rahkshi. Every heartbeat was echoed by a throbbing in his side, in his leg, in his chest, in his back. He was in no shape to fight. All the while, the Rode watched him blankly, and he realized belatedly that, if the metal behemoth could use its masks, then any lie would be a wrong answer. That left the truth, or however much of it the Toa of Air could get away with. “I came here seeking entry to the Vault of the Makuta,” he said. “If you are its guardian, then I ask you-” the word ask caught in his throat “-I ask you to let me in, for the sake of the island.” The Abettor considered Greed's response in silence for a full second; to Greed, the silence felt an age. The quiet was broken by the lubricated hiss of pistons, immense things that braced the Abettor's legs; the sound was so sudden that it made Greed jump. The Abettor took two slow, sure steps forward. As it came closer, its daunting size was impressed again upon Greed. The Toa of Air was quite reassured that his decision not to fight this behemoth had been a sound one. Its rattling, bottomless voice only served to reinforce these sentiments. "You have spoken truthfully," the Abettor croaked. The click-scrape-click sequence again; before Greed's eyes, the Kanohi Rode in the Abettor's chest swiveled out of sight to be replaced with a Kanohi Sanok - on the forehead of which was a shining blue w- a few masks away. Greed felt something in his chest unclench, and he saw the glow in the crystal arm fade. The Abettor's empty eyes looked over his head with the same passivity as before; now, though, their blankness was less threatening. "We are a guardian of this Vault," the Abettor continued with deep resonance, affirming Greed's assumptions. "Our duty is to maintain its integrity. Therefore, your request to enter this Vault is rejected. It is against our directive to permit someone unworthy to-" "Unworthy?" Greed broke in, feeling outraged as if he'd been slapped. "...Unworthy? I have proven myself among the most dedicated, the most loyal servants of the great Makuta-" "It is against our directive to permit someone unworthy to enter this way," the Abettor repeated indifferently. "You are unworthy; servitude to the Makuta does not equate with worthiness. Though he stashed his treasures within, this Vault does not belong to the Makuta. We do not serve the Makuta." "Then... What do you serve?" Greed asked, confused. If this wasn't Makuta's Vault, then whose was it? "We serve our duty," the Abettor replied. Greed had the impression that the Abettor wasn't going to reveal much more on this front; nevertheless, fires of curiosity burned in the Toa of Air, and countless other queries ricocheted around inside his mind. For example, why did the Abettor guard the Vault? Did that make this round tunnel a second entrance? Why was there a second entrance, anyway? Did the Abettor know how to solve the riddle on the door? Who commanded the Abettor? Who had created it in the first place? What would the Abettor do if Greed stepped closer, or tried to pass it? Did Makuta and the Vault have anything to do with one another after all? But Greed, drinking in the newborn quiet and the ironic peace of the blue light, settled for the question that most compelled him, the one that had compelled every being who had heard tales of the Vault and been filled with mysterious awe. "What's inside the Vault?" Greed asked. The Abettor indulged itself in another second of silence; Greed got the strong impression that the sentience somewhere inside that sideways can was processing its words carefully. The Abettor finally spoke, its bass rumble curiously cadenced. "All the simplest power of the world."

GO!

The Wahi: The entire southern fourth of Mata Nui is green with the life of Le-Wahi and its vast swamp. Riddled with marshes and shallow lakes that expand over the vast majority of the region, Le-Wahi also rises to the skies with huge, thick trees. Flocks of birds of all sorts sing from the branches; joined by the howling of other Rahi, the constant chatter of Le-Wahi is both enchanting and frightening. Many large and dangerous Rahi also inhabit the area, though the Gukko Force usually keeps jungle trails safe. Other landmarks of the area include: -The Fau Swamp: A marshy area that extends through most of the jungle floor of Le-Wahi. The swamp is full of sinkholes and thick mud, so only travelers with careful feet survive there.[/font] -Kanae Bay: A large bay in southern Le-Wahi. It was here that Toa Lewa's canister washed ashore. -Lake Pala: The largest lake in the Wahi. The remains of Pala-Koro, a failed fortress settlement, remain on its southern shore as a reminder of the days of Makuta’s rule. Only a shattered curtain wall and the rubble of a few huts have endured. -Xa-Koro: What used to be the “seventh Koro,” a boardwalk city that was a conglomeration of thieves and sinners, was sunk into the ocean during the days of Makuta. Now, it is a treacherous submarine place to the south of Le-Wahi, full of secrets to be discovered by any brave enough to dive into the unstable, undersea ruins. -The Suva Nui: a tall, dark stone obelisk that towers in the middle of a clearing in the jungle of Le-Wahi. It defines the site of the Great Hive Battle, as the Suva Nui was contained within the Nui-Rama hive before it was razed. It is also the site where the Toa Maru were transformed from Matoran to Toa. The Suva Nui is an entrance to Mangaia. -The Dark Walk: One of six large tunnels dug by Makuta’s Rahkshi during the final days of his rule. Large enough to encompass a walking legion, it runs directly from the doorstep of the Koro down into Mangaia. Exudes a definite aura of odiousness, and is generally avoided. The Koro: Led by Akiri Kongu, the village of Le-Koro hangs in the trees directly above Lake Kanae. The airy city, a sprawl of tree houses, consists of beehive-shaped huts and shops strung together by vines or branches. Walkways are carved into the thick wood and grafted on the tree trunks, making a network that weaves in the treetops and casts a neat glow at night. Some treetops were flattened to make room for plazas and Kolhii stadiums. Music rings from this village as drummers and flutists fill the air with joyful noise. Within the Koro, several complex systems of chutes, built by Onu-Koro’s engineers, wind and twist about the trees. These chutes run to and from different sections of Le-Koro, and can easily transport Matoran by a mix of air pressure and gravity. Smaller chutes are also used as quick delivery systems for letters and small packages. Each access point is a small “chute station” where the users might choose their destination and chute accordingly. The largest chute station is near the Le-Koro marketplace. The village of Le-Koro is more strictly presided over than in earlier days, and the only way into the Koro is through elevators accessed by a bridge in the lake, or through landing pads where the approaching traffic is screened beforehand. Those entering via elevators are questioned about their business coming to Le-Koro, and the elevators are operated from secure places in the treetop city. The chute system has very few openings on the ground. Le-Koro is the fastest trading Koro on Mata-Nui, employing air delivery systems which are much more efficient and timely than the trading methods applied by other Koros. This has made Le-Koro a valuable merchant partner, and they often work as a middleman for other villages' trade.

The Wahi: Onu-Wahi is the region of Earth on the island of Mata Nui. Although Onu-Wahi does include surface areas, very little of the outside was ever developed. The prominent features of Onu-Wahi are mainly located underground, connected by tunnels carved long ago by the Onu-Matoran and other more sinister things. Dangerous Rahi, some of which are largely unknown, lurk in the dank underground caves of the region, which not even the bravest Onu-Matoran have explored. Some natural tunnels carry seeping water from the surface, filling several of the Wahi’s caverns with frigid subterranean lakes. Local landmarks include: -The Great Mine: An expansive mine network near Onu-Koro where Onu-Matoran miners and prospectors toil to excavate its precious resources. Its shafts, which reach deep into the earth, provide many of the raw materials used in other villages across Mata Nui, such as Protodermis and gold. Other precious resources like Ore are mined here as well. The mine also includes the Marn Tunnels, annexes to the Great Mine around the Wahi. -Cavern of Light: A lightstone mine in Onu-Wahi. The main supply of lightstones for the island is located here. Its entrance is located in a tunnel network connecting Onu-Koro to Ta-Koro and Le-Koro, and the cave itself is only accessible with a special key.[/font] -Papa Nihu Reef: An archipelago of rocky islets that spread out over the waters outside Onu-Wahi. The mainland shoreline is composed of dark beaches and blank landscape, and the islets themselves range in size and shape but remain mostly desolate, save for the occasional rookery of birds.[/font] -Onu-Koro Highway: An old tunnel connecting Ko-Wahi to Onu-Koro. Members of the Ussalry regulate the end in Onu-Koro to weed out undesirable travelers. -Le-Koro Highway: A tunnel connecting Le-Wahi to Onu-Koro, similarly guarded. -Darkmine: The cavernous former lair of the necromantic Brotherhood of Ak’rei’an, this system of gothic caves, which branches off from an abandoned underground highway, was cleared out by the Ussalry in the recent past. It is now an Onu-Koronan fungi farm. -The Dark Walk: One of six large tunnels dug by Makuta’s Rahkshi during the final days of his rule. Large enough to encompass a walking legion, it runs directly from the doorstep of the Koro down into Mangaia. Exudes a definite aura of odiousness, and is generally avoided. The Koro: Led by Akiri Nuparu, Onu-Koro is located in a huge cavern in the middle of Onu-Wahi. It is a massive bubble in the earth with ceilings that vanish into the darkness above and walls littered with well-guarded gateways. The Koro is the central hub of a network of highways and tunnels that link it with the other parts of the island and with its mines. It consists of huts made of dark stone interwoven with a maze of metal pipes transporting water, gases, and even objects, around the Koro. A cool stream cuts down the middle of the village and is bridged by several pedestrian walkways. The village is lit by lightstone streetlamps and the glow of forges. The center of the village has a main marketplace where tinkerers sell small ornaments and gadgets. The middle rings of the Koro are residential, peppered with other establishments like stores and eateries. Engineering plants push up against the village’s crowded edges, always bustling with activity. The smell of metal and the smoke of production fill the cavern of Onu-Koro as foundries built there smelt mined ores and turn them into machines. The industrial gases and other wastes are siphoned off to the surface through ducts high in the roof of the village. Nuparu now occupies the great hut once used by Turaga Whenua and directs the village’s progress with clear vision. The clever hands of Onu-Koro manufacture technologies of progress for the entire island; but they keep as many inventions secret as they sell. Nuparu is very careful about which technologies the Koro releases, controls trade with a stern hand, and places great importance on security. This lead to the expansion and technological armament of the formidable Ussalry, housed at its three stables around the village. The Ussalry defend the Koro and the Wahi around it and, due to the great influx of money and trade of materials, they consistently patrol Onu-Koro’s borders and check everyone and everything going in or out. The highways connecting Onu-Koro to the island at large have been greatly expanded to accommodate the movement of technologies, and are always patrolled by guards and escorts.

The Wahi: Po-Wahi is the Stone region on Mata Nui, located in a large desert with many canyons. The desert is a large, rocky expanse, located near the north of Mata Nui. It consists mainly of the Motara Desert, canyons, plateaus, and rocks. The area has a coastline as well, where Leva Bay is situated. Paths leading to Onu-Wahi, Po-Koro, and the Quarry could also be found here. Local landmarks include: -Motara Desert: A desert covering the vast eastern portion of Po-Wahi. -Tiro Canyon: A large canyon in Po-Wahi. -Leva Bay: A bay located off the northern coast of Po-Wahi. The coastal settlement of Ostia is located here. -The Po-Wahi Quarry: A large, canyon-enclosed area of Po-Wahi, it is here that the Po-Matoran mine stone for their famous carvings. In it can be found six large statues of the First Toa’s Kanohi, and these statues serve as doorways to the various sections of the quarry, unlocked by means of small keys emblazoned with the symbols of the Elements. -The Path of Prophecies: A road flanked by carvings, leading to the village of Po-Koro, created by the Po-Matoran Carver Hafu soon after the Matoran established the village of Po-Koro. At the road's end is the entrance to Po-Koro, which is carved into the mouth of a large Matoran head. -Forsi: A Sentinel-run port settlement on the Po-Wahi coast, this is also the outlet of the “Iron Mahi” locomotive’s track and a radio station. -Ostia: A walled port settlement on Leva Bay. Caravans travel frequently between Po-Koro and Ostia, and travelers can usually join a caravan of merchants for relatively safe passage. -Blackrock: An old fortress of the Brotherhood of Ak’rei’an. In the past, a combined force of Ga-Koro Marines and Po-Koro Sentinels drove the Brotherhood from this place. Battle damages, as well as sandstorms and stone pilferers, reduced the dormant Blackrock to ruins. After being eradicated from Darkmine in Onu-Wahi, though, the Brotherhood has returned to Blackrock and started to reconstruct the crumbling place. -The Dark Walk: One of six large tunnels dug by Makuta’s Rahkshi during the final days of his rule. Large enough to encompass a walking legion, it runs directly from the doorstep of the Koro down into Mangaia. Exudes a definite aura of odiousness, and is generally avoided. Akiri Hewkii has done his best to cover the entrance by walling it in and assigning guards to the hole. The Koro: Led by Akiri Hewkii, Po-Koro lays nestled in a canyon valley in the northern part of the desert. It consists of a village set within the confines of thick, masterly crafted walls of stone. A grand gateway and the short road leading to it define Po-Koro’s single entrance. Inside the village, simple stone domes serve as huts, shops and inns, several new structures hug the village walls, and a central marketplace hosts a continual bazaar. Po-Koro maintains its reputation as the sports capital of the island, and has the best Kohlii stadium and teams. Most roads that once existed in the wastes are now scrubbed away. Already experts at traversing the vast wasteland, Po-Matoran are uninhibited by the lack of directional markers, and rarely get lost. Specially appointed patrols cross the desert, some tours to ensure the security of the Koro and others as essential traders. The old sand paths, though, have been replaced with a much more efficient method of reaching Po-Koro: the “Iron Mahi” locomotive. Designed by Onu-Koronan engineers, the tracks of this locomotive run from the coastal settlement of Forsi directly to the Koro. The Iron Mahi takes cargo as well as passengers between its two stops once a day. For keeping in contact within their own kind even when they are across the desert, the Po-Matoran use a large, primitive radio communicator situated atop the walls of Po-Koro. From this transmission point, special messages in Po-Koro can be sent through the air to other such radio outposts elsewhere in the desert. The communication signals are always shaky, leading to easy misinterpretations, the range isn’t good, and the apparatuses are extremely vulnerable; but, even so, the solar-powered transmitters give the Po-Matoran the ability to respond quickly to disasters.

The Wahi: The most placid of the regions of Mata Nui, Ga-Wahi is a large and mostly submerged area located on the eastern side of the island of the island. It is dominated by the great Naho Bay, which takes up the vast majority of the region and is surrounded by towering white cliffs. Ga-Wahi's landscape is very diverse, featuring sandy beaches and sharp cliffs, green strips of thick forest near the sea and wide grassy plains further inland. Ga-Koro is located in this Wahi, floating in the southern part of the bay at the delta of the Hura-Mafa River. Local landmarks include: -Naho Bay: Bordered by pale cliffs, this wide cove is home to Ga-Koro, Ga-Kini, and Ga-Suva, as well as several underwater caves. A large waterfall pours into Naho Bay, and the rock face of the falls is sculpted into the likeness of a Kanohi Kaukau. There is a peaceful cave behind the roaring waters. -Hura-Mafa River: This river runs northward from the slopes of Mount Ihu into Naho Bay, emptying there bay by means of the Naho Falls. It is one of the largest rivers on the island, and serves as a speedy ferry for trade from Ko-Koro to Ga-Koro. -Old Fusa Path: This pathway was created by the Matoran to serve as an inland access point to the beaches of Naho Bay, and ultimately to the village of Ga-Koro. Harakeke and Bamboo plants proliferate along the path. -The Dark Walk: One of six large tunnels dug by Makuta’s Rahkshi during the final days of his rule. Large enough to encompass a walking legion, it runs directly from the doorstep of the Koro down into Mangaia. Exudes a definite aura of odiousness, and is generally avoided. The Koro: Led by Akiri Hahli, Ga-Koro is built on huge lily pads, held in place by thick stems that grow underwater (which have been reinforced by inorganic pylons), with segmented leafy walkways and bridges connecting the platforms. It’s built around a central plaza that is faced by the Akiri’s hut; the plaza also doubles as the main marketplace of the Koro. Huts are made of more lily pads and look like cabbage heads, though they are very sturdy. Ever since the village’s betrayal by the Toa “Arete” long ago, Ga-Koro’s culture has been judicious in how they view strangers. Ga-Koro has also built up its defenses by constructing new floating “sea forts” for its Marines, the Koro’s guard service. The village gates are manned with twice the personnel as in the days of Makuta, and the chain of command has been cut down substantially to prevent anyone unsavory from gaining control where it should not be held. But Ga-Koro’s creativity went beyond the martial. The Ga-Matoran, with the help of Onu-Koro’s engineers, maintain several underwater greenhouses that grow food, plants both medicinal and industrial, and other cash crops. Strategically protected by Marine sea forts, these greenhouses are equipped with state of the art oxygen filtration systems and solar panels, not unlike those used by the miners in the Great Mine. Armed Toa and a lock system that is designed to fool all but the Onu-Matoran engineers who designed it defend the gardens from saboteurs. Ga-Koro’s greenhouses supply most of the island’s food and medicine.