BULiK

OOC: Quoribay from Ga-Wahi IC: Quoribay [Ta-Koro] As I was saying, I had to go to Ta-Koro. Quiet hike over there - I did see a pair of Ta-Toa fed-lookin' goons, probably on their way to see the new ships, which was a good sign - I knew as long as the island's eyes were on the women from overseas and their inevitable antics, they'd be less likely to focus on little ol' me and my exploits. In a good way. Look - I want to be infamous as much as the next guy, but you also gotta have a healthy appreciation for laying low and not winding up dead. Dorian Shaddix was famous too. Alls I'm sayin'. So with the Dasaka drawing the attention of the island, and somehow, my story, I casually slipped into Ta-Koro through the front door. It had been a while since I'd been there. Why was I in Ta? Well, I had a coffin to buy.

OOC: Vrill from Onu-Wahi IC: Vrill [Po-Koro, ???] The trip had been quiet, both for Vrill and those at the head of the wagon, and in general. The most eventful thing that had occurred was a herd of Kikanalo moving to another watering hole, nothing more. The highways were peaceful, but everyone felt an elevated level of danger sparked by rumors. But that wasn't on Vrill's mind as he stared across the smoky orange horizon during the journey. A web of possibilities and truths coagulated. The undercover guardsman needed information that Po-Koro had somewhere... and Vrill had long owed a visit to someone who could help him with the Sisyphean task of navigate the glacial movements of the bureaucracy Hewkii created. ~~~ The door opened with a jingle that indicated the arrival of a potential customer. Vrill, the crystalline outer layers of his armor now the amber hue of citrine quartz, looked around the humble legal office, taking in the new arrangement of furnishings. OOC: @Goose honk.

IC: Long Dihunai [Ga-Koro, Port] After waiting long enough to no reply, Dihunai rolled her optics and turned back towards the dockyards. Perhaps she could get closer to this "dragon", anyhow. First touring the local bars, now touring her own ships - Yumiwa delaying her training with these frivolities only delayed the salvation of those still on the Archipelago. The advance team had already evaluated the locals and Dihunai was sure the Rora was privy to that intelligence... so why she chose to mingle with these natives was beyond Dihunai. To her, the formalities were just another way of not getting anything meaningful done. OOC: Open for interaction.

IC: Vrill [Onu-Koro, The Unfortunate Fikou] Having completed his organization and finished his small meal, Vrill picked up his belongings and nonchalantly exited the inn. It wasn't long before he arrived at the gate to the Po-Koro highway. At the nearby stables were many traders fitting carts to their ussals, loading and unloading cargo. The Cy-Toa approached one group who was beginning to leave, a pair of Po-Koronans on a large carriage pulled by two ussals. "Hey!" he waved. They slowed down their ussals. One matoran, wearing a black akaku and sporting a long piece of straw between his lips, lifted his arm up and over the backrest behind them, casually putting his hand into a compartment there. The driver, a Po-Koronan with a brown arthron, addressed Vrill. "Yes, toa?" "I need a ride to Po-Koro. I'll protect you if you give me a seat." The two matoran deliberated for a few moments. There was clearly a disagreement between the two partners. "Look - I'm a Toa of Crystal," Vrill interrupted. He pointed to the large, covered cargo section of the carriage. "If I wanted the lightstones you were hauling, I'd make my own." The two Po-Matoran looked at each other. ~~~ Vrill leaned back against the tarp-covered baskets of luminous ore from his perch atop a barrel at the back of the carriage. His body rested, but his mind was still very much at work. OOC: Vrill to Po-Wahi

IC: Kreigero [Ko-Wahi, Drifts] The huntress felt slack on her rope shortly after Atamai announced his plan. She was still looking above her as she waited for the rope to stop moving once she heard the sound of Atamai beginning his climb, which she knew she would hear any moment now.. Time felt compressed. She held her breath with the same tightness as her hands held her icepicks. She could hear Reyal barking. He must must have reached the edge of the crevasse.

OOC: yo IC: Long Dihunai [Ga-Koro, Port] An intense thought sparked to life, obscured somewhat by dancing flames of a free spirit. ::Yumiwa, our meeting is delayed due to a dragon:: A Menti stole her optics away from the dragon in the distance to return to staring down the two Menti on the opposing end of the gangplank. ::And your 'servants' up above not letting me pass::

cool jokes on you plum, i did a week or two ago and was in the middle of writing a post when people started tajaarposting i

can someone give me the quick rundown on the tajaar? just found out the soulfire clans are apparently them too?

IC: Nichou [The Massif] Nichou frowned. The Charred Forest was a graveyard, in a sense. While Aurax's final resting place may be lost in that arboreal labyrinth, where it very well may never be found again, Nichou couldn't think of a better place for Aurax to lie. A battlefield, Makuta's scar on Mata Nui, that will one day heal and become fertile ground now that he was defeated. "Deep in the Charred Forest? You must have been to so many unique corners of the island on your quest," Nichou redirected the conversation as the two continued to wander. "What was your favorite?" Nichou would be travelling soon, after all. Perhaps Stannis knew some great places to visit in the future. It was probably more interesting and useful a question than asking to tell the same story everyone had heard before, even if Nichou wanted to hear it again but from the man himself. Stannis had been in many places, some were strange and others mystical, and despite all that the Massif remained his favorite place to be. He winced in pain as he took a seat by the roaring fire, feeling the warmth in the hearth refresh his weary bones and melt the morning chill that still clung to his armor like dew. Nichou's question was in reference to adventure, though—he could see the wanderlust in the builder's eyes, the same that he saw when the companions first assembled oh-so-long ago, and an answer of "why here, of course," would not do and be met with confused disappointment. No, better to keep Nichou's spirits up and hopes focused forward to the magic that abounded on the island of Mata Nui. "It's called the Keeping Place," he said. "That is my favourite. It's not accessible by most, even among the Toa Maru only I can enter it, but deep below the Kini-Nui's temple basements lies a realm wherein I have never felt closer to the Great Spirit. Time loses its meaning thence and one can't help but feel part of a greater ebbing and flowing of destinies. I've been there several times since we first entered, and every time I go it is a treat to the senses and soul." "The Keeping Place?" Nichou repeated, optics flaring with curiosity and awe. What Stannis was describing sounded... indescribable. A pleasantly surprising answer to Nichou's question. "What does it keep?" "Anything," Stannis said. "Things that are known and others that are not." "Hmmm..." Nichou mused on the non-answer. "That sounds incredible. Reminds me of here, actually." "Visit anywhere else interesting? Maybe somewhere that I could actually go to? I'll be leaving soon - Sigrus and I are going to help Ko-Koro rebuild, maybe do some old school exploration as well, see a bit more of the island." "Is that right?" Stannis said, looking pleased for the first time in their meeting. "Like the old times? And with Sigrus!" It was hard to imagine a better travel companion than the pacifist monk who shared a love of all life like Lepidran with equal appreciation for hammers like Atiel, and possessed a spiritual zeal that rivaled the Wanderer's own. He was good company to have when things got rough, and for all Antrim's and Brykon's abilities as Toa-protectors it was in the hands of the camerlengo that the Massif thrived. In Stannis' mind, Sigrus was the best administrator the township had in a very long time, and he included himself in those ranks as well with humility. "Yup!" Nichou nodded enthusiastically, posture and demeanor brightening along with his smile. "I got to know him better the other day, and that night was when we both realized how ready we both were to get back out there." "Toa Brykon supported us all the way, almost leading us to the answers we already knew in our heartlights, in that way he does. I'm sure Sigrus's expertise will be missed, but the Massif will provide, as it always does." Stannis winced again, only this time it wasn't at a physical pain as much as an emotion. The Massif will provide, he demurred. As it always does? He was not so sure of that anymore. It will always be a place of healing and nourishment, a temple for sojourners and wayward souls alike, but the heart of the Massif was in its people. Looking around, Stannis knew this was not the same Massif he knew and administrated before. Antrim Vakitano was dead and many whom were there in his era had moved on. Sigrus would be one of the last of that timeline, the last of falling fruits from the old Toa-protector's legacy tree. It was a sombering realization that shook Stannis somewhat and he shivered both from the cold seeping off his armor and the icy thought that coursed in his veins. The Massif has changed, he thought. It's different, not what it was. Not... my Massif. Without thinking he spun a small messenger back off his shoulder and placed it in his lap. That makes this somewhat easier to do. To the excited matoran, he smiled thinly, his gaze far away. "Does he still dislike me somewhat?" Stannis asked of Sigrus. "Some small, petty chip on his shoulder?" Nichou chuckled. "Well, let's just say... he thinks you gave him ample room to shine and demonstrate his skills by cleaning up the mess you left behind when you left to start the Companions." "So... yes." "Serves me right," Stannis said with a goofy grin. And then he leaned up against the warm mantlepiece, closed his eyes, and quietly fell asleep. Nichou wistfully smiled, lingering for a few moments. Sigrus was right - Stannis was the same matoran Nichou knew. The Onu-Matoran carefully stood up, leaving the Toa Maru to rest. The carpenter quietly left the chamber to go back to the hamlet below and finish the last few arrangements before he could set off on his next adventure. OOC: A long time coming, this saga has almost wrapped up. Gonna be ready for arc 3 sooner or later!

IC: Vrill [Onu-Koro, The Unfortunate Fikou] Sitting in a booth that snaked along a corner of an outer wall was a cautious Toa of Crystal. From such a seat that faced the entrance of the establishment, Vrill had a solid view of the entire floor, but his optics were, as far as any other patrons could tell, preoccupied by the steaming mug of coffee he occasionally sipped at and the unusual glass tablets neatly stacked on the table beside him. Vrill noticed a Cy-Toa enter and move across the room with a strange sense of purpose that perplexed the innkeep. As Gorro grew closer, Vrill's kanohi pulsed with a slight glow that was barely visible beneath the crystalline kakama-shaped outer covering. The undercover sanctum guardsman watched carefully at quarter-speed, taking in the appearance of the fellow Cy-Toa, before deactivating his kanohi when Gorro sharply turned right to walk down the hall towards the inn's rooms. After seeing the Toa enter one of the many doors, Vrill turned back to his mug, his duplicated documents, and the notepad he was jotting a cryptic shorthand inside of. His summary of the Toa Kalta was almost complete.

IC: Quoribay [Ga-Koro, Streets] Yeah, I didn't quite understand what he meant by that either. When Surdo decided to turn and depart so abruptly, I gave him a time and a place. "Tomorrow. Obsidian outpost." If he looked back, I was already gone. See, by that point, I hadn't actually, ahem, told Illicia yet. So I had to slip out of town and take the Ol' Fusa Path to visit the "jewel of the Mangai"... OOC: Quoribay to Ta-Wahi.

OOC: Vrill from Ko-Wahi IC: Vrill [Onu-Koro, Ko-Wahi Highway Entrance] A Toa of crystal strolled out from the tunnel to Ko-Wahi, blending in amongst the crowd of those coming and going. It had been a long march, and now would be a good time for a bit of rest and refreshments before embarking on the long desert trails to Po-Koro. He made his way further into the city, on his way to one of the seedier watering holes in town. One could easily tell from the surety with which Vrill traversed the winding alleyways of the bustling city that he was no stranger to this route. OOC: Open for interaction

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive] Vrill snatched the card with a free hand, nodded, and strolled out of the library. "Legend of the Bionicle," huh? Tacky. Vrill soon left the Koro without incident. While he had lied about why he needed to go to Po-Koro, that was truly his destination. Korzaa gave the detective the authority to take his investigation where he deemed fit, and he wanted to learn more about the Toa Kalta and Skorm's criminal past before he started collecting more evidence in Ko-Koro. The best place to learn the details of the reports on Skorm was to go to where that incident took place. Vrill also knew he had some favors to pull in the city of stone that might make that search go even smoother. The undercover guardsman would be lying if he said that he truly trusted anyone... but there were some that he distrusted much less than others. The snowy path lead Vrill to the entrance to Onu-Koro's underground highway. He shifted the composition of the crystal layers on the outside of his armor and kanohi from obsidian to his natural blue-green seafoam hue. On his shoulders and back, patches of heatstone grew to more quickly melt the snow off of and subsequently dry his rugged, slate grey cloak. Lightstone grew on his chest above his heartlight, illuminating the road ahead in places where the highway's own lamps were lacking. OOC: Vrill to Onu-Wahi

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive] "Syzygos." Vrill firmly completed the handshake with a nod. "I roam from Koro to Koro - comes with the job. Best place to find me is by me finding you." His head turned towards the stack of glass copies tucked under one arm. "I've got to return to Po-Koro soon to finish this job, but once I'm back in Ko, I'll come here and we can figure out the details. I'll see you then." The Cy-Toa began to leave, but stopped, remembering something. He turned back to Priicu. "Oh right - my card?"

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive] "Business for the Akiri would step things up a notch. Consider me in."

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive] The Cy-Toa raised an eyebrow. He was merely humoring himself with the idea of taking on more work, but the nature of it intrigued him slightly. To copy documents meant to read them, have total access. Even change them, if needed. That kind of responsibility, in his hands, could be a great boon to further investigations. In fact... it would give him an excellent alibi. A freelance scribe wasn't the most inconspicuous of personas, but as a matter of fact, what Priicu had proposed was the exact same occupation as the lie Vrill had concocted for his disguised self before entering the establishment. He had the idea of such work locked and loaded in case the librarian got nosy, but this was an opportunity to make it a real fake job, and maybe that was a tool he could use later. "I already do that - just more freelance and less systematic. That's why I'm here, after all," the undercover guardsman lied. He neatly placed sixty widgets on the counter. "Are you talking about something... larger than my private clients? What makes this different?"

OOC: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bonkle magic IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive] Vrill paused sorting his widgets and looked at the Wise Man™ with a quizzical expression - it was clear he hadn't been expecting a proposal. In fact, he was almost amused by the idea. "A job?"

IC: Quoribay [Ga-Koro, Streets, Alley] See what I told you about this guy being bad news? He really didn't want to cooperate, all because he couldn't live up to his own mistakes. I really needed to get rid of him somehow. There was a way where everyone walked out of this happy. Whaddaya think happened, then? "Pfffffttt..." I added in a mocking expression and a hand wave (with the hand that wasn't wrapped around the hilt of one of my sheathed dirks). My negotiation skills are unmatched. As usual, I knew I had all the cards under my belt. Well, mostly. "You have nothing. This score can't happen without me, and if you start raising Karzahni and stop it from going down, I guarantee you'll never get anything out of me." "Besides-" a signature sly grin firing with the mechanically precise timing of Nuparu's finest patero. "Like I said, I can't tell you what it is because they've barely even coined a word for this contraption, that's how secret and high tech and secret tech it is. Catch my drift now?" "So, if you want to work for a living on this score with me and my partner Illicia -" me, namedropping? "- for your substantial, yet fair cut, then fine. But:" I snapped a finger gun at his chest, and any casual friendliness was gone faster than a Ta-Matoran in Ko-Koro. "You try to pull anything, you get nothing. You go with this, and when it's over, I'm out. Long as you don't run off or make it go to Karz, you get your cut, any 'debts' are cleared, and I'm never seeing your face again, capiche?"

IC: Kreigero [Ko-Wahi, The Drifts, Ice Shelf Crevasse] Kreigero breathed a shaky sigh of relief, adrenaline still surging, as the sled skidded to a halt, kicking up snow everywhere in what was already a horrific storm. Completely exposed to the elements, it felt just as cold as when the otherworldly rahi swooped in to fight the Muaka. Wind chill was a dark mistress. The sled had rotated wildly when Savrehn's quick thinking lead to a makeshift anchor - if Kreigero hadn't been holding on to one of his arms, she might have been flung off into a tumble down the chasm from the centripetal force alone. Now the huntress was the matoran closest to the pit, where she got a spookily wide view of it's unending maw. The sled was still slipping. Kreigero froze as still as mount ihu itself in apprehension. Teetering. Only moments to think. She glanced at Savrehn, locking optics with the crusty old Ko-Matoran. It was a glare, but not of malice, regret, or even sadness. It was merely firm, with the only emotion on display being the emotionless severity of the situation, a mutually understandable acknowledgement that the situation they were in merely was what it was. There was no indication that they had any right to be sad that this was how Ihu took them. This was the risk they knew, and to be a true alpinist required the coolness under pressure that shone through the tinted visor of Kreigero's kaukau in that everlastingly brief moment the two Ko-Matoran loners shared. Her steely expression was of a woman focused on the situation. One who saw reality with the detached clarity necessary to make the right decisions even in the worst of situations. Kreigergo inhaled sharply, turned, and jumped off the sled, pushing it slightly back up in the process to buy a few precious moments for Atamai and Savrehn. Both her arms were outstretched forwards, hands squeezed tightly around the grip of her ice pick. It slammed into the ice wall on the other side of the crevasse, with the several bio of rope connecting her to Atamai and then Savrehn stretching across the chasm between them. Without her weight on the shield, it might not slip. If it slipped anyways and they dragged each other down into the pit, Kreigero would die knowing she made the best choice in the moment. For now, she just had... to... hang... on... The icy wall on the opposing end of the chasm audibly crackled, with the spider web of cracks around Kreigero's ice pick growing slightly. She looked up. No handholds, and even if so, it was a long climb to reach level ground several dozen bio above. Kreigero decided not to look down again. IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive] The Cy-Toa nodded to the matoran. He perused the selection of records, pulling several volumes off of the shelves before taking a seat at a nearby table. For a few hours, he sat quietly, flipping through books and unrolling scrolls. Occasionally he'd form a clear crystal sheet over a page, duplicating it by turning some of the glass into a darkened obsidian over the top of the original's markings. A crude elemental photocopier, but effective and cheap. The undercover detective started, naturally, with lists of the Akiri's new proclamations and directives. No matter what, he had to get a feel for all aspects of Tarkhan's administration. It was possible to obscure criminality, but exceedingly difficult to truly mask it. The guardsman was betting that some oddities would lead him to any murky truths he could hone in on. Most of it was stuff Vrill already knew about - the widely publicized re-investment plan, and some trade deals that looked normal enough to someone who wasn't an accountant or a lawyer. Vrill's expression soured as he once again read the announcement of the compulsory military service that he and many other veteran sanctum guardsmen had gripes with. Similarly, the Toa Kalta being Ko-Koro's official Toa team was worthy of a roll of the optics. Vrill almost moved on, but in the corner of his vision, he glimpsed a remarkable footnote. Skorm, one of the group, had been on the run from the law in multiple other Koro... and they knew this when the Kalta let him join, and when Ko-Koro's Onu-Koronan Akiri appointed them to be the city's new apex protectors. The mention was light - obviously those reporting on it didn't want to draw more attention to it than necessary. Vrill found reports asking for official pardons, something mentioning an incident with antidermis, Stannis Maru, and Po-Koro. Hmmm... The Cy-Toa made copies of anything he could find on the Toa Kalta, which, somewhat suspiciously, wasn't all too much. Apparently they hadn't been active all too long, and that raised more questions than it answered for the detective. He walked back to the matoran at the front desk, reaching into a crystalline pocket in his armor and pulling out several widgets. "How much is the fee?"

IC: Quoribay [Ga-Koro, Streets, Alley] I never would have gotten in this situation if I couldn't take the sleazebag on matoran to matoran, fair and square, or slip away from him just as easily. But I wasn't just taking extra care to not attract attention by causing a scene or trying to stick around to get Bazzy to be the muscle any good swindle could take advantage of - I also knew that this would be a perfect opportunity to kill two taku with one madu and ensure I had one less loose end to deal with when I retired with my newly upgraded infamy level. So, the threats of violence weren't scary. From this guy? Sad! Am I right? Plus, a blade will beat a brass knuckle any day - it's like rock paper scissors. But if I had two scissors. Or... does two daggers equal one pair of - POINT IS, then I said: "This score I've cased is literally classified, now ain't the time or the place. I'm on my way to pick up the crew I need first - I'll explain then." "Patience gets rewarded."

IC: Kreigero [Ko-Wahi, The Drifts] Savrehn and Atamai clambered aboard the shield, and Kreigero began to push them both. It almost seemed futile initially, but within a few moments the inertia picked up and the makeshift sled was moving along at a slow pace. The huntress stepped aboard, her left arm wrapped around one of Savrehn's like a matoran pretzel in order to not fall off. In Kreigero's right hand was her spear, which she used to continue to push the raft along. Reyal sprinted alongside, though soon he couldn't keep pace. The mountainside's slope had made picking up speed easy - too easy - as it continued to decline until it had surpassed thirty degrees downward. Although it was clear that they were successfully speeding away from the battle, as could be heard by the distant howling and snarling of the Muaka in it's death throes, what wasn't clear when Kreigero decided on this course of action was the approaching break in the ice shelf that popped out of the storm's low visibility in an instant. The trapper shouted curses and turned her spear around, trying to slow down the sled. Its bamboo shaft snapped in twain. In truth, it was too late - even if they jumped now, surely the momentum of their tumble would take the three interlinked matoran into the dark blue ice wall ahead that stretched into the abyss below. Unless... Kreigero dropped the spear shard and pulled out her ice pick, steeling herself for the launch. "HANG ON!" Reyal was running far behind, the Hapaka attempting to catch up. OOC: Off we go into the dark below! Thanks for the distraction, @TL01 NUVA, but we're late for our appointment with the local plimbologist. Take it away, @Tarn

IC: Quoribay [Ga-Koro, Streets] Now, while I would have preferred to meet with Surdo in an open space with the security of having witnesses (The good kind of witnesses - see, those with smoother cognition centers than I wouldn't appreciate that level of nuance, so there's a lesson for you) but ol' Baz was uh... yeah... Given the circumstances of the psycho skak, I conceded. An olive branch. So, with none the wiser to our rendezvous inside the slightly-shaded maintenance valley of two goofy ga-koronan salad huts, I cautiously attempted to hear Surdo out. "You here to fill me in here on this guy's deal?"

I just want to say, thanks so much for this! As someone who grew up on the Fan Created Games subforum here and has wanted to revisit MeNOL for a long time (funnily enough, I was reminiscing about it to a friend literally yesterday), this is a joy to hear. Major props for A: continuing to host it for so long and B: passing on the necessary data to have it archived for the community. As a hobbyist archivist myself, it's such a relief knowing that something so much effort was put into and so many people got enjoyment from won't be lost. I'll never cease to be amazed by the artists that BZP seems to bring back oh-so-many years later. Thanks for letting everyone know MeNOL is safe! I remember seeing BioMediaProject tweet about searching for it earlier this year, and I'm glad you were able to find them (or they find you), and that we know the game is in their hands.

IC: Nichou [The Massif] (Many weeks prior, but also, the next day) The only thing Nichou found more beautiful about the surface than sunset was sunrise. The soft amber-pink glow that filtered through the clouds above the vanishing point of the horizon, and the rejuvenating warmth that followed, reminded the carpenter that darkness would never persist forever. It showed that change was constant and took time. It humbled himself before the vast beauty of the cosmos. The rays of light turned the frost on the grass he sat cross-legged in into sparkling dew, and nearby docile rahi began to give the landscape signs of life. The Onu-Matoran had made viewing the adieu of the stars and the greeting of the sun a part of his routine. Not only because the beauty and wonder of what could only be Mata Nui's creation never diminished in his mind, but in part due to it serving practical purposes as well. His eyesight comfortably adjusted to the sunlight as it slowly intensified. The walk outside the Massif was a good physical warm up for whatever tasks the carpenter would take on later. Quite simply, the hillside outside the sanctuary's walls was the perfect place for Nichou to ponder life's persistent questions, plan the rest of his day, and make his morning prayer. The prior day's plan to leave with Sigrus did not change this habit - if anything, it made Nichou savor the calm certainty even more, for he knew that soon, he would uproot himself yet again and return to face the unknowns. The night prior, Nichou had taken stock of his possessions, and realized how little he actually had anymore. The only thing to the carpenter's name, beyond the basic necessities and tools of his growing number of trades, was the chess set he was soon to finish carving. Nichou was ready to face his future, and he would do so travelling lightly. The only burdens he would carry would be his questions. One of those questions was the anchor holding him to the Massif, the key that Brykon had helped Nichou uncover: when was he ready to leave? Somehow, Nichou knew he would find what he was waiting for soon. As he returned to the Massif, there was a murmur that could be felt, the air crackling with an invisible excitement that the peaceful hamlet had not exhibited many times during Nichou's stay. The Onu-Matoran approached the walls, walking stick in hand. ~~~ Sigrus had spent the morning in quiet meditation perched on the rooftop of his chalet. A stone pot of tea was set at his side, long since left empty as the little cup beside it, and the steam that once ebbed from its spout had become the warm breath the monk exhaled into the crisp alpine air. It was thin that morning in the Massif even at the village level, the result of a warring between microclimates that waxed and waned—sometimes the warm, moist air of Le-Wahi bubbled up into the hills the village nestled in, and other times the chilly, swift winds of the mountain passes churned through. The latter was the case then, and the result was a churning mass of clouds that amassed beneath the village as the cold winds turned the moist jungle air into precipitation, conjuring images of a vast white seascape and making the hamlet village feel like a fishing village at the edge of land and ocean. Sigrus liked these days immensely and could get lost in the nothingness of the white expanse, reminiscing of a time when he was an innocent navigator. While he did not dwell on the past some memories were stronger than others, and rather than to try fighting them off he embraced the healthy parts to outweigh the painful, choosing to take pleasure in joy than to be burdened in pain. In the clouds he could hear the unseen work crews setting out for their tea harvesting routines, the soft clank of their shears and rakes becoming a gentle percussion to their jovial sing-song voices that grew more distant as they forced themselves to be roused through cajoling as a chorus. Sigrus pulled his heavy wool cloak tighter around his shoulders against the chill as the voices melted into the clouds and was about to end his idleness and rise when he heard rapid footsteps return—one of the workers was retracing their path in a hurry. The act was unusual, as they did not require anything to return for, their tools already in hand and supplies of sustenance waiting at their worksite. They'd usually only return to town if they encountered danger or had some news, and so it was by that assumption that the camerlengo hastened his breaking of meditation, collected his tea set, and went back into his house to meet whoever it was at his doorstep. Inevitably, if it was anything of importance, they knew to come to his abode first. As expected, a knock was at his door which Sigrus responded to after just a single rap. The worker seemed excited, not worried, and the countenance dissolved Sigrus' fears. "Good morning!" the worker said. "Thought you should know: Stannis is on the road headed here. That's all! Gotta go rejoin the gang." And with that, they were gone, leaving Sigrus standing there in his doorjamb facing the prospect of his predecessor being in town on his last day as administrator. How auspicious, yes, he surmised with amusement, and then set himself into motion as well. A moment later he was briskly walking towards the town's keep, where Brykon dwelled, and after giving the Toa-protector the news he walked back just as quick of step back to his abode in order to prepare for his own departure. It was on that way back that he ran into Nichou. "Morning, friend. Thought you'd be pleased to hear it, Stannis is headed here." Nichou's optics flared with surprise. "That's wonderful news! I'm sure he'll have many stories to tell - and Mata Nui willing, good news about Ko-Koro. If he's coming straight from there, he should be arriving at the North gate..." The Onu-Matoran waved for the camerlengo to follow. "Let's go there and greet him!" The carpenter's many tools jingled as he broke into a light jog towards the edge of the hamlet. He was excited at seeing his old friend again, yet there was a lingering apprehension from just how long it had been, and how much had changed since then. The concern lacing his anticipation was a mix of rational and irrational, and so instead of dwelling on what it meant to be on the verge of completing his quest from many months ago, Nichou focused on the path underfoot, and the beings in his path. Now wasn't the time to think. "Go on ahead. I have things to attend to but will be with shortly, yes," Sigrus chimed in response before continuing on his way. Stannis Maru's silhouetted body was visible long before his white eyes materialized from within the shrouding milky mist. He walked with a purposeful but slow shamble, Like some noble ghoul bidden to rise and march long after his campaign was finished, clearly weary yet stubborn enough not to let his sagacious visage be betrayed by injury. Of his weapons, which were usually all slung on his back like the pikes he carried as a Matoran, one was held in hand like a walking stick that punctuated his paces with a sodden plunge into the soft earth. He'd been walking all night and was looking forward to the refuge of his old home. The sooner he could settle his business, the better for everyone. He could hear the village ahead as it woke for the day. He wished for no welcoming party but anticipated one regardless, knowing there were some who considered him a hero and would drop everything to greet him. It came as a small surprise, then, that the committee consisted of just one person, then, who's stout visage became quickly clear as the veil of fog evaporated. Nichou waved to the wanderer as the Toa pierced the dreamlike fog and came into focus. The cold mist clung to the Po-Toa's form for a short time, slowly peeling away like water dripping off someone who had been swimming in a faraway shore. From Nichou's perspective, the world beyond that haze, including all of its troubles, felt mysterious again, like the island was holding its breath alongside the Onu-Matoran in anticipation of the news. Nichou's worries of Ko-Koro's state diminished as Stannis returned further within massif's aura. The Wanderer would soon dispel the fog of war as well. "Hey Stan!" he exclaimed with a warm smile. "It's been a while." And then, the most original joke ever to break the ice. "Have I shrunk, or have you gotten taller?" OOC: We'll get there when we get there... but progress is being made. We're Writing More™

IC: Quoribay [Ga-Koro, Streets] As you all know, I'm not one to tell the full story to just anyone. Buy me a drink, first, geez... Naturally, I played coy. "Don't interrupt Baszlin - that's rather rude. I'm sure he has come up with an answer he's ready to tell." No, seriously, buy me a drink. C'mon...