BULiK

On 2/27/2023 at 7:05 PM, Nato G said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"You think the Bone Hunters will let you keep it?" He scoffed. He raised his left hand, aiming and activating his electromagnet implant in an attempt to pull the shield from the disgraced Skrall's hand. If you won't surrender it, then I'll just have to take it.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

There were a lot of words in lieu of action. Focus on words drew focus from reality.

The pull on Skrall's shield was strong. Resisting would sap his power. So Skrall charged, intent on plowing into Skrall shieldfirst.

On 2/26/2023 at 4:53 PM, Nato G said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"Ah, so you do speak," he sneered, "Where was this bravery when you were leaving your own to die?"

22 hours ago, oncertainty said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

He drew in a breath, and then launched the crate in his hands towards the erstwhile prisoner with as much force and accuracy as he could muster. The moment the crate left his fingers, his hand was at his hip. He drew his khopesh, and set his feet in a fighting stance.

2 hours ago, Burnmad said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

Before the rope touched the stable floor, Skrall's own blade flashed from its sheath, and he moved back two steps to place some distance between himself and the threat. The tip of his sword pointed threateningly at the deserter as he held it close in a guard position, all the while he strafed around to his left - stepping over the rope without needing to look - in the hopes of encircling the traitor-- and of distracting it as Skrall hefted a crate to bludgeon it with.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

His foe relenting his grip, Skrall immediately reached his right hand towards his back to withdraw his shield. As he brought it in front of him, he saw Skrall make his throw. He angled the shield and tensed his stance. The crate impacted the rounded surface, contents creating a muffled cacophony as they bounced inside. Skrall didn't have to stop the entire mass so much as absorb enough to deflect it to his right side.

A growl.

Three Skrall were ahead of him. Two had blades drawn, while the lackey resorted to words. Skrall consolidated his position by stepping backwards in pace with the one approaching to his left flank, while retaliating in kind.

"I may be headed to the mongrels, but no Skrall surrenders his shield."

On 2/24/2023 at 2:43 PM, Burnmad said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus, Stables

"I intended to see to it when we left. Skrall would be a fool to try anything in the middle of Roxtus. Still, now is as good a time as any. Hold his hands out in front of him, Skrall."

He could have ordered the deserter to surrender its weapons itself. That would necessitate it draw them, however; and a Skrall, deserter or not, is accustomed to using a weapon when drawing it. Doubly so for a reject who was staring down the barrel of a lifetime of slavery. His sadistic impulses aside, Skrall preferred the relative safety of pulling the weapons from Skrall's back himself. And, he told himself, this way would be more humiliating.

Grabbing a coil of sturdy rope that was hanging over the wall of a stable stall, he glanced at the stable master. "Add a length of rope to the requisitions manifest," he said, unwinding a portion of rope long enough to bind Skrall's hands with.

On 2/24/2023 at 5:21 PM, Nato G said:

IC: Skrall – Roxtus Stables

Wary of potential struggle, he reached out to take the prisoner’s hands and hold them up to be tied.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

When the soldier began to move for him at orders from special forces, the delinquent saw his options and chose the path of greatest resistance.

He raised his hands in front of him, level with the ground. But as Skrall took hold of Skrall's right hand, Skrall's left hand was moving away. In fact, all of Skrall began to move in that split second from Skrall's grip finding purchase. His torso rotated counterclockwise as his entire body threw its force behind a punch towards the ground on his left. The sudden jerk to the left and down was meant to drive the latched-on Skrall off of his footing and into the dirt floor.

Skrall's left hand reached the handle on his hip. It unsheathed the black blade of his shortsword and raised it to the ready.

"No."

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

Skrall continued to stand somewhat dazed, putting up no resistance. But at the question, his eyes glowed bright red for a moment.

IC: Quoribay [Iron Mahi, Cargo Car #?]

Having stowed away in cargo, naturally, we found ourselves to be in one of the cargo cars. But which? Obviously not the one with the ussal-less-carriage we were after, but we needed to find a way there so it was ready to unload once Dolbren made his way back here. And deal with any lingering threats along the way.

For now though, the coast (aside from the ghost) was clear.

To each side of the car was a door. Within that door was a window. Pretty easy to tell that to either side of us was another cargo car, but with the glare and how dim the insides of these cargo cars were, I couldn't tell which one was the prize. Or which way was the front of the train - until there was that loud creaking of metal to my left.

Dolby was at work cooking up some chicanery.

So that unintentional-but-definitely-intentional signal told me that the car on my left side was towards the front of the train (car number three out of five for any of you folks counting along at home) and the one to my right was the last car. Given the guards were distracted by the... uh... distraction that Surdo had choreographed, it was probably best to check that one first, right? WRONG!

Now, rule number one of running a heist is to never fully trust your crew, especially if you plan on double crossing them. Skrol had successfully not ####ed me over so far, but who's to say the blind ####### wasn't just lucky? If the guards hadn't moved up front due to the whole hostage situation, they sure as Karz would want to check out why the train was screaming and being split in half.

With a whispered "shh!" I tugged Skrol's shoulder to tell him to follow me, and then ducked behind another of the large crates on the floor. Luckily I didn't forget to put the lid back on over our old crate in the process. We would listen in case a guard ran past out of the caboose.

OOC: @~Xemnas~@Krayzikk@a goose

IC: Skrall [Roxtus]

Skrall stumbled forwards at the prompting of Skrall, paying no attention to Skrall and Skrall infighting. They wouldn't get it.

On 6/23/2022 at 11:03 PM, BULiK said:

IC: Quoribay [Iron Mahi, ?th Car, ???]

Y'know, I'd been in plenty of dangerous situations. On the run, taking hostages, fighting people in very dumb and dangerous ways against impossible odds.

But I, the pro that I am, was always cool under pressure. It never 'got' to me like you read in the Mata Nui Daily about some guard members losing their lunch during a stick up, or like you see when some guard members lose their lunch while you're doing a stick up. Me? Never got the creeps, the willies, the makooties, whatever you want to call it. For as long as I could remember.

This job though? There was this point when I had this feeling, this instinct, that something was off. I felt this... chill... creeping all over my body.

That was the first indication that things weren't going to plan. That that day was going to get even crazier than I had accounted for.

  IC: Quoribay [Iron Mahi, ?th Car]

I was so glad to be free from that little box, let me tell you. Finally, after the painstaking setup process, it was my time to shine.

When Skrol gave me the secret signal, he began opening the secret compartment, pushing past the decoy fruits to reach the crate's lid. I took the liberty to grab a bula on my way out. One for the road, eh?

I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, but superstition wasn't gonna stop me. I gracefully lowered myself to the floor, all daintily-like in case Skrol had made a massive ####up and the coasts weren't completely clear (true). While I had confidence in the plan... the shivers did give me a bit of a spook.

If you recall, priority number one was figuring out just where the Karz I was. Situational awareness, they call it.

OOC: @a goose@Krayzikk@~Xemnas~

On 2/20/2023 at 12:55 PM, Vezok's Friend said:

IC/ Skrall/ Roxtus/ War Room/

“We are ready to head to Iconox, Tesara or directly to Atero. Either as one, to make a statement, or in teams - one for each arena - to broaden our presence south. Where would you have us begin, to best serve your strategy?”

IC: Tirveus [Roxtus, War Room]

The general looked to the Skrall of the five that spoke up in answer, his glare pulsing deadlier upon examining just what was asking him the question. Inconceivable. He almost forgot the question, merely staring with discontent for a few unsettling moments.

Skrall writhed against the wall.

"Heading directly to Atero is foolhardy and pointless. The southern tourneys are not built equally - what matters strategically is the Great Tournament, and before the Great Tournament can proceed there are the exhibition matches. The first of which is in Tajun."

"The fastest route is by way of Tesara, but -" Tirveus looked to Skrall, whose squirming was slowing down, the pace of panic simultaneously calmer yet twitching with more vigor. "You will go by way of Atero."

His massive hand loosed its grip and Skrall slid down the wall, violently gagging against his own drool in a fight for breath. The pathetic crumple of armor didn't dare raise a finger. Head against the floor, he looked up at Tirveus with reverent fear.

"Skrall here abandoned his watch, and many more paid the price of his incompetence. He is a danger to the strength of the Whole, and must be expunged."

"Follow My River south past the Dark Falls until you see a lone mesa to your east. You will sell Skrall there to the Bone Hunters in exchange for safe harbor, fresh water, and future commitments. My Ordinarius will accompany you to project my will and make said arrangements."

Atakus bowed.

"You will continue southward until my river is truly dead, and you see Sandray Canyon to your west. Beyond that lies Tajun, and your first victory."

"Requisition the necessary rock steeds and Spikit carts from the war stables, and leave without delay. There is a Skrall outside who has scouted these territories, he will be your guide through the wastelands."

Tirveus kicked Skrall towards the five others, the disgraced warrior rolling on the granite floor.

"Dismissed," he snarled.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, War Room]

stinging aching pressure pressure PRESSURE

IC: Tirveus [Roxtus, War Room]

"Ah yes, there are some details to work out, aren't there," Atakus replied, tone showing that he had expected (and probably warned Tirveus of) something exactly like this. "Let them pass."

The Honorguard pulled their glaives back. It was the closest thing to an invitation the fellow Skrall would get. Atakus turned and swiftly lead those who decided to follow to a deeper chamber, not bothering to check behind to see if any got lost in the stone halls of the bunker. The whole situation was boring to the rock triber.

As the group got further in, the sounds from within escalated. Something smacked one of the walls. They emerged into the war room to see the lime-armored skrall leader pinning Skrall against the barren wall with one hand, the chokehold lifting the smaller Skrall off his feet. Skrall's weapons were on his back, his hands grasping against the titan's grip in vain.

Atakus coughed. "Sir, volunteers for your arena campaign humbly ask for your consultation."

Tirveus broke his stare with Skrall, turning his head to see the the strange mix of soldiers standing at the entryway. He frowned, both at seeing them and at his untimely interruption.

"Well? I don't have all day."

Skrall squirmed.

IC: Tirveus [Roxtus, War Room]

The assorted Skrall found their general where was expected - at the war room, conducting his business. Two honorguard Skrall stood outside the basalt bunker's sole entrance, and their glaives crossed to block the entrance as the ad-hoc contubernium approached. Around the corner behind the ceremonial guardians of the Skrall leader, an Agori walked into view. They could tell that Tirveus's office was occupied from the muffled sounds of pained grunts and fists finding their target, although Atakus looked calm as ever despite the scuffle inside.

"You have business with the Imperator?" he droned.

OOC: @ skrall

IC: Frii'Glokk [Ostia, The Dancing Crab]

Blue eyes were locked on the Toa's hand-gun. All else was still.

Been a busy week on my end so I've only now caught up with the happenings in the game so far. Really cool stuff! I'm going to try and get some skrall stuff moving in the next few days (hopefully), get the squad together. There's also going to be some more direct quest hooks dropping soon

IC: Frii'Glokk [Ostia, The Dancing Crab]

His ride doubly confirmed, this time by the captain himself, the Fe-Skakdi was satisfied. He had a new mission now: lounge around waiting to depart. What better entertainment than this new Toa and his catchy poster?

Over Lohkar's shoulder, the ironclad Skakdi observed the introductions. This guy used to work for the circus? the newly-appointed goon thought. He then remembered his encounter with Solan a few minutes earlier. Yeah, he'll fit right in.

5 hours ago, Ghosthands said:

IC (Broker NPCs) [Burning Steppes Outskirts]

He looked around at the gathered beings, green eyes alighting on each of them with varying degrees of distrust or disdain. Only Kihr received a respectful nod.

IC: Kihr [Burning Steppes, Outskirts]

The fixer gave a nod in return. As different as their lifestyles may have been, they each had standing in the Broker's eyes. Within the Broker's circles, they shared seniority, if not rank, over many of those present. As on-edge as everyone may have been, Rhuvok gave some assurance that it wasn't a wild Gafna chase.

Until now, the scope of the dig was uncertain to Kihr. Not his area of expertise. The Raven's presence and subsequent exposition indicated that the value of Kalzok's find wasn't overblown, and it really might have hoards of wealth and priceless knowledge. Kihr might have been excited by that news, if he cared in the slightest. His optics juggled focus between excavation crew members and the horizon as he continued to listen.

On 1/28/2023 at 9:53 PM, Silvan Haven said:

Kale Ironshaper - Docks - Fowadi

IC: "We're stopping here to top off our supplies before we set off on a months long journey into the unknown. As well as one last stop for anyone that might want to leave or join the crew."

IC: Myhruk [Beach Outpost, The Fowadi]

"By 'the unknown' you mean Seprilli right? Do you even know where you're going?"

On 1/29/2023 at 6:50 AM, Rahisaurus said:

[IC: Zassani]

"Too right," murmured Zassani, scowling up at the distant figure still standing up on the hill, "Especially if one of em's too good to come down and make it 'imself." He pointed at Kihr. "What's 'is deal?"

IC: Kihr [Burning Steppes, Outskirts]

Needing not bother with pleasantries, Kihr casually extracted a cigar from a case that he subsequently stowed again. The cutting device followed, which sliced the cap straight off with an offhand squeeze. If the husks of plants around them had still been burning, he may well have lit the cigar off one of them. However, in the present circumstances, the nearest source of fire was his own.

The lighter that flicked open was perhaps the only piece of metal on Kihr that could still reflect the dull sunlight. Well polished, one could be mistaken for believing it was a reproduction and not the antique that it truly was. The insignia engraved on its side was impossible to make out from such a distance, not that any of those present were ancient or well-studied enough to know its meaning. Then again, this was a group of archeologists and treasure hunters. However, Kihr presumed that even if they could recognize it from a book, they would never have respected the creed. To them, history was a linear sequence of inevitability. With the hindsight of the current desolation, none of them would have understood that the hope it once stood for was real, or that the blood that spilled in its name had accomplished anything.

Not that Kihr was foolish enough to think that either. However, an old man was allowed his sentimentality.

Having lit his cigar with a few mechanical puffs, the lighter and its revealing flame disappeared uneventfully. The red embers at the end of the cigar poked out from the the hilltop Lesterin's silhouette, joining the constellation formed by his lime optics and and the occasionally blinking lights on his chestpiece.

IC: Long Dihunai [Ga-Koro, The Yukanna]

The warrior considered the proposal and stood up to follow Yumiwa. She knew the Maru were this island's greatest warriors, although the connections between them and Mata Nui's own little empires weren't clear to her. Whatever this 'urgent matter' was, it could impact the balance of the fragile situation at large. The only way to be prepared was to hear the topic for herself.

Dihunai followed Yumi through the corridors and up onto the deck, avoiding eye contact with onlooking Dashi. While the rogue Tajaar's presence aboard the Rora's flagship was not unusual at this point, it certainly remained unorthodox. Whispers on the mental plane, even through Dihunai's metaphorical firewall, could often be felt near the navy's sailors. Unease the armed stranger, her unusual intentions, and the mystery of how she had become an unofficial advisor of the Rora.

She followed several strides behind Yumiwa, avoiding drawing any more attention to herself when possible.

42 minutes ago, Silvan Haven said:

Kale Ironshaper - Docks - Fowadi

IC: "Until the captain gets back from the koro, that's me. What do you need to say?"

IC: Myhruk

The Lesterin made an expression that could best be described as an eye roll that lacked eyes rolling.

"Where's this ship going, why are we in Ta?"

ARC 3, ROLL 31427, SCENE 25, TAKE 1

PROD: NICHOU DREAM SEQUENCE, DIR: BULiK, CAM: MAX

*CLAP*

AAAAAAND IN CHARACTER: NICHOU

…

…

…

CUT!

wait, where is he?

hold on -

IC: Nichou [The Void]

Nichou once wished to a hero, but his current dreams lacked such profound scope.

As the Onu-Matoran drooled softly on the floor he was sprawled across, his mind was entirely empty. There was no vision of the future, nor regrets from the past. He had not passed go, nor collected his two hundred widgets. There wasn’t even any pit in his heartlight, unsure what to make of the blank canvas – in those moments, the nothingness made perfect sense because it was, or rather, because it wasn't.

It was not a place of wisdom, no lessons were learned there.

...

IC: Nichou [Ga-Koro]

Nichou had awoken when roused, and had listened to the proceedings in the intervening time. The craftsman was wide awake, clearly there, while also not quite.

Everything about this situation was absurd, what could have been easily mistaken for a bad trip, but there was no doubt. Nichou was as serious as he had ever been, although his lack of surprise or questions was concerning. No proof of Aurax's resurrection was necessary, and the effects of the cactus had clearly worn off by this point. Somehow, it all made perfect sense without making any.

As he rested in a reclined manner, Nichou was patient, content, even, to listen to the others talk. While he hadn’t paid much attention to the note taking of Kanohi before, he understood now. It was the mute Fe-Matoran showing another message to the group that made Nichou finally speak up.

"There is something we can do,” he interrupted with a nod towards the vigilante. “Everything.”

The Onu-Matoran gestured towards Aurax and Lekua in his next appeal.

"Your reincarnation? Us three Companions meeting again? On the heels of a dark army’s return? These circumstances are no coincidence.”

"There are shadows at work that none understand, just as before when we volunteered to chase Takua’s riddles. The lessons from our travels, the spark from your sacrifice, it grew to guide Stannis and the Maru to victory. This crystal fleet is a reminder - armies can only do so much against the darkness. Clearly we were brought together because once again, more light must be shone, lest our defenders be caught unprepared."

"Quite the mystery - you cheated death, and somehow Makuta did as well. Maybe if we find out how either of you managed it, we can find a way to stop him from coming back a second time."

On 1/25/2023 at 8:36 AM, NorikSigma said:

IC: Vekus - Spineless Bay

After a few more hours, the pair reached a downward slope. Vekus could see a set of bare hills seem to rise out from the low land ahead of them, a series of strange, low stone (crystal?) outcroppings surrounding it. At the centre of those shapes was the bare side of a hill, and a small group of figures.

Wordlessly, the pair continued downhill, steeling themselves to reach their target and the wonders, or horrors, within.

IC: Kalzok - Outside

One of the excavation team called out to the others, and Kalzok peeped out from under his robes and hat. Even from this distance he could recognise Vekus' stride, and the old Broker agent with her.

It only took a few minutes for them to reach the ruin. He dusted off his robes and stood up from his seating position in one fluid motion.

"Glad to see we have all made it in one piece. Perhaps introductions are in order?"

OOC: Recommended listening:

IC: Kihr [Burning Steppes, Outskirts]

As Vekus descended the slope, Kihr slowed his pace. The jingle of each spur lingered in the air longer after each step, the tempo of the rugged Lesterin's military march slacking now that he had lead Vekus to where she was meant to be. He stopped several bio away from the crew, taking a seat on an outcrop of lifeless stone padded by ash. Upright in nearby dirt, he fixed the end of the cane that had been kept furled in his arm during most of the journey. From afar, the approaching spurs had been the more prominent sound, but with his closer proximity and stiller movement, the compression cycles of his lung pumps had become the dominant indicators of his presence.

The husk blended into the soot of the steppes. Had the group not seen him arrive, they might have mistaken the Ga-Lesterin for a newly uncovered archeological artifact. The shemagh around his neck danced in the breeze, shaking off dust like a Burnak after a swim. Thusly it became clearer that it had once been blue as the sky, and his antique armor was long ago a navy blue befitting the ocean depths. Time's cruelty had dulled their boldness to the point of each being faded cousins of grey. The layer of ash that had floated onto Kihr from the alpine winds and shadowed light from the murky sky amplified his colorlessness tenfold.

It was thanks to this sky's contrast that Kihr's torso skylined the hilltop. Silhouetted by the rays of burnt orange light brave or foolish enough to pierce the wildfire's clouds, the only color on the figure was from the alien glow of the lights cut into the center of the agent's torso, and the lime optics that overlooked the assembled crew behind his Arthron. Some of them he had met, some he hadn't - and yet he knew all of them with the intimacy gamblers had of their favorite dice.

He was as much a mystery to them as the ruins that temporarily wove their fates together, or the patterns of the blinking and static colored lights where his heartlight should have been, and yet the enigma was calmingly understandable on the surface. A facilitator, Kihr's business was known, and he needed no introduction. His mechanical breathing continued to announce his presence and attention in the background - which said all that needed to be said.

IC: Frii'Glokk [The Dancing Crab, Ostia]

The statue of a Skakdi's blue optics were momentarily glazed with a cherenkov glow as his helmet snappily rotated towards Lohkar. As soon as his cognition caught up with his reflexes, the orbs dimmed. The rest of his body was stationary, yet even from beneath his all-encompassing plating, the tin man was clearly tense.

"I already filled Gunner in: Just here for passage."

The skull-like helmet nodded sideways at the other Lesterin.

"Big hat wants in too. Dunno his story."

23 hours ago, Void Emissary said:

IC: Rynekk | The Fowadi

"Seems that it's Krayn's call overall who comes on this trip, and-- hey, who's that trying to break down Dehkaz's door?"

10 hours ago, Silvan Haven said:

Kale Ironshaper - Docks - Fowadi

IC:

The sounds of metal feet on solid wood joined the rest of the commotion on deck as Kale made his way over to where one of their passengers was apparently trying to punch his way into the Captain's quarters.

"if you break that I'm going to add the repair cost to your fee for this trip."

IC: Myhruk [Beach Outpost, Fowadi, Ready Room]

"I wasn't tryna break it," the Lesterin slowly enunciated as he swiveled towards the interruption, stance lowering. "- and that's a reason why."

A pair of Toa - stone and iron. Definitely military - but the first lacked the stripes and the other lacked the years to be whoever was running this shindig.

"Looking for who's in charge. Need a word."

To add on to those examples and since you brought it up, because Skrall shields are kinda buzzsaw-y (especially in movies and promotional material) I opted for having my PC Skrall's hand be able to rotate to make the shield like a buzzsaw instead of the shields themselves being tech items. Things being more cybernetics than tech 'items' is a different frame of mind to think about than normal, but it can be compelling. Maybe a skrall could captain america throw his boomerang shield with a high tech arm tractor beam? I'm curious what wild impractical uses of sufficiently advanced technology people will think up for the sake of the rule of cool depending on what they want to do with their characters.

OOC:

IC: Tirveus [Roxtus, Parade Grounds]

Untold hundreds of feet marched in unison, quaking the earth below. Over millennia, that earth had become as hardened as stone by the patrols of near constant Skrall ceremonies that assembled most of the village from their barracks.

This ground was sacred, and their presence required a sacred mission. The bustling camp of his legion within the walls of the ancient city was abound with rumors and hearsay. Even dissent was a concern after the cold, unceasing march through the treacherous passes of the black spike mountains to reach the city. Now that the black legion had rest, it was Tirveus’s job to maintain order. Bestow purpose. Just as the clerics charted the stars, the general must navigate his army to victory.

When the last Skrall phalanx drilled to a halt, the air was dead. Not even the winds dared challenge the authority of the Skrallica Imperatus. Tirveus raised the Skrallarhorn to his lips, and let forth a bellow that called the session to order.

“Today we embark on the next great journey. Before our march south of the Black Spikes, I spoke of our mission to protect the heart of Skrall,” the general began, gesturing towards the mystical skull shaped mountain that loomed above the fortress city.

“That is not our sole purpose. We do not only defend, we are here to do our divine purpose: CONQUEST. However, our inevitable victory will be through a campaign of games.”

If the legion's loyalty had not been unwavering, whispers would have broken out amongst the Skrall. Through their discipline, each warrior stood silently at full ceremonial attention, fully focused on the ceremony.

“The disorganized children to the south do not understand the THREAT. They do not HEED the sacrifice of SKRALL. They squabble over SCRAPS.“

“WE WILL SHOW THEM THE WAY. THEY WILL KNEEL TO OUR STRENGTH. THEY WILL FEED THE NEXT GRAND CAMPAIGN. SKRALL”

Tirveus stamped his foot for emphasis, and the butt of every polearm in the formation before him joined as a chorus that quaked the ground.

“Their ‘Great Tournament’ approaches. Skrall WILL be victorious. In recognition of true strength, I will ENTITLE our champion as reward for this feat. THAT is our battle. THAT is our road. All Skrall may march forth and become champions of the southern arenas with my blessing.”

“SKRALL!”

Tirveus raised a shield into the air.

“SKRALL!”

The legion followed in perfect unison, their discipline making each raised arm an extension of Tirveus’s own will.

“SKRALL!”

Tirveus raised his curved dagger with his right hand.

“SKRALL!”

A thousand glaives rose to match.

“SKRALL!”

“SKRALL!”

Each Skrall’s blade resounded off the shield of the Skrall to his right. Each Skrall’s shield gonged from the blow to the Skrall on his left. All Skrall were one under the eye of Roxtus. As the ceremony disassembled and sections marched to their posts and barracks, there was a buzz in the air, as a new purpose swept each Skrall with fervor. Having endured a humiliating retreat from the bloodiest campaign in their living memory, it was now the last legion’s time to go on the hunt and earn their honor.

OOC: Calling all Skrall who wish for a name - seek blood and glory in the arenas to the south while the Black Legion gathers its strength...

GM Profiles:

• Name: Tirveus (Teer-VAY-us)
• Tribe: Rock
• Species: Skrall Leader
• Gender: Male
• Appearance: Taller and bulkier than a glatorian warrior, Tirveus stands head and shoulders above his subordinates. He is covered head to toe in thick plate armor, regalia which has been passed down through dozens of generations of generals. The armor proudly displays the scars of many wars, some of which are Tirveus’s own. Lime green runes and reliefs bear a living memory of past victories and bestow blessings of the gods.
• Equipment: 
  • Zkrallhander: Tall as a glatorian and wide as an Agori, this ceremonial sword is as deadly as it is unwieldy to any but the largest of goliaths. Even for a Skrall Leader, it takes two hands to properly swing with any purpose.
  • Thornax Gauntlet: A launcher built into his mechanical vambrace. Frees up a hand for another blade, at the expense of more telegraphed aiming.
  • Skrallarhorn: An ancient horn carved from the bones of a long-extinct leviathan. The Skrallic fasces, it is an embodiment to the godslaying power of the Skrall people. Whoever wields it has the rightful command of the black legions.
  • Kopis: The traditional curved Skrall blade, emblazoned with runes of a bygone era with a forgotten purpose. For an Agori, it is a sword. For Tirveus, it is a dagger.
• Cybernetics: 
  • Valkyrie Thrusters: a set of boosters attached to his back that enhance mobility. Useful for superhuman, gravity-defying slides, hops, slams, nad punches.
  • Biochemical Regulator: Adrenaline, morphine, dopamine, testosterone - the works. Gives and takes from each to enhance perception and combat effectiveness.
• Personality & Traits: A cunning tactician, Tirveus sees the world as a battlefield. Politics, economics, social dynamics - all are war by other means. Only domination of these domains is acceptable. Uncompromising in this respect.
• History: Hailed as Imperator by his legion long ago, Tirveus leads the last remnants of the Black Legions. A costly but necessary decision, he led his army through a bitter alpine march to Roxtus, uniting the remnants of the Rock Tribe by sharing his leadership of the men with the female priestesses under the dominion of his co-consul. While bringing the men and women the closest together in living memory was a controversial decision, tradition and the fealty of his subcommanders kept such concerns from being contested aloud.
• Weaknesses: 
  • Gynophobia: There’s something wrong with them…
  • Altered Mind: Biochemistry isn’t a well understood science. At least, to Tirveus.. Side effects of his chemical regulators can lead to what might otherwise be considered erratic behavior.

Personal Profiles:

• Name: Skrall
• Tribe: Rock
• Species: Skrall Warrior
• Gender: Male
• Appearance: Skrall marches in unison with his blood brothers, wearing the traditional spiked ‘Skrallhelm’. To the barbarians, Skrall is indistinguishable from Skrall because Skrall and Skrall wear the standard plates of Skrall Warriors in the black legion, but Skrall know what Skrall look like and why Skrall not look like Skrall.
• Equipment: 
  • Thornax Glaive: Traditional Skrall Kopis on a longer staff that houses a thornax launcher
  • Skutum: A circular buzzsaw shield, bearing the mazelike insignia of the Black Legion painted in blood.
  • Gladerra: A skrallic blacksteel gladius - a shortsword optimized for stabbing with one hand.
• Cybernetics: 
  • Spinfist: Skrall’s hands are split from his arms at the wrist, where cybernetics allow the wrist to spin around in full rotation. Useful for dextrous, impossible movements of a blade, or spinning a buzzsaw shield to deadly speeds.
  • Firesight: Optical enhancing lens implants permitting the perception of thermal signatures. They glow red when active.
• Personality & Traits: Skrall is scout. Skrall watches for enemy weakness. Follows orders.
• History: Skrall is a great warrior, for he was worthy to survive his Skrall training and the march south. Skrall served in many patrols, but has fought few battles.
• Weaknesses: 
  • Gynophobia: They’re scary.
  • Honorbound: Death before dishonor. Bound by blood to his loyalty and honor. Skrall returns with his shield or on it.