Voltex

If the rest of you want to re-name Ta-Koro you can go ahead; seeing that Elittra isn't really involved with the village, I won't contribute to any discussions there except to say that I do kinda feel like it'd be in-character for Ta-Koro to, well, remain Ta-Koro. They're strong enough as they are, and don't need the illusion a change of name would provide. (As for Ko-Koro, I suggest Ziema Krita)

posting to officially claim that spot in Ko? Here comes Arttile, Elittra's long lost brother, who is basically Elittra except he's a boi That's actually a lie, Arttile is nothing like Elittra, and is not related to her at all

will erihapeti finally visit elittra also did i spell it right

join

I will be reprising my role as Elittra, this time as the "Other" of Ta-Koro. *crosses fingers hoping to play a second character who is more likely to survive beyond round 2*

BEGINNING OF THE END A Protector of Fire, wearing maroon armor with bright red highlights, sits in a wooden chair. He is slumped in it, chin resting on his chest, eyes closed. He sits at a wooden table, in an otherwise empty room. Three of the walls hold torches, and the room is lit by the flickering fires. The fourth wall holds only a door, and the room is otherwise bare. A figure in pitch black armor stands across from the Protector, leaning on a second chair, identical to the chair that the Protector sits in. The figure’s armor seems to absorb the nearby light, darkening his surroundings. His hands, holding the top of the chair, are relaxed. He does not breathe, for to him, breathing is not necessary. He is calm. And then he speaks; a single command. The room seems to tilt, before it steadies. “Good morning, RG. Open your eyes.” The Protector of Fire obeys the command, startling awake. He blinks, eyes wide with confusion as he turns his head to take in his surroundings, and fails to make sense of them. He opens his mouth, but says nothing, and closes it. After a long moment of pondering silence, he finally turns his gaze to the figure standing across from him, and now, his eyes light with emotion. A little bit of fear; a little bit of hate. “Can you hear me?” the figure asks. “I can,” the Protector of Fire answers. He speaks slowly, uncertain. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t quite feel like myself. Something is… off.” The figure seems disappointed by this response, but presses on. “Do you know where you are?” “I’m… I’m supposed to be dead,” RG Coal whispers, horror leaking into his tone. “I *was* dead. I’ve been dead for *decades*. My son has lived and died his own full life. My kingdom rose and fell and rose again. Nations have been born and razed. What have you *done*?” The figure ignores the Protector’s rambling. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, RG, so long as you answer my questions correctly. Understand?” RG scowls. The figure frowns, their fingers flexing on the chair. “I’ll ask once more. Do you know where you are?” “You might change the world to suit your needs,” RG snaps, “but it won’t work. Okoto has faced worse than you, and they’ve won. They’ll do it again. Okoto always wins.” The figure smirks. “They haven’t faced *anything* like me. In time, they *will* know what it is like to lose….” The room tilts, and RG’s eyes close. The Protector of Fire slumps in his seat, his chin resting upon his chest once more. The figure sighs, shaking their head. “Perhaps more power….” -- In Aodhiim, Vakama City burns. In Aodhiim, Makani Reyna Saryian is reunited with her mother. Chloe Saryian has regained her youth and her mind, and they sit together to watch the end of the world. In Aodhiim, Imperator Efandril watches over the beginning of House Darkfire’s rise, even as she is haunted by Kollorak, who speaks to her through the image of Toa Tahu. In Aodhiim, Lord Burnmad Aodh walks once more, as though he had never fallen. In Aodhiim, they watch as Kapura, and Korgot, and Otom, and so many others turn to dust in the wind, erased from reality. The Barren slowly sinks and crumbles into the ocean, leaving little behind. Nobody is there to see. In Kamuk, Fort Patrus is a ruin. In Kamuk, King Anuhea now reigns, and House Petros is restored to power. He is served by Toa Pohatu and the Rahkshi Panrahk – an alliance that nobody could have predicted. In Kamuk, Quin Galum and his protégé, Pouks Petros, search for a new purpose. In Kamuk, Lord Zatth Raqmu walks once more, as though he had never fallen. In Kamuk, they watch as Pohatu, and Panrahk, and Quin, and so many others turn to dust in the wind, erased from reality. -- A Protector of Fire, wearing maroon armor with bright red highlights, sits in a wooden chair. He is slumped in it, chin resting on his chest, eyes closed. He sits at a wooden table, in an otherwise empty room. Three of the walls hold torches, and the room is lit by the flickering fires. The fourth wall holds only a door, and the room is otherwise bare. A figure in pitch black armor stands across from the Protector, leaning on a second chair, identical to the chair that the Protector sits in. The figure’s armor doesn’t reflect the light. His hands, holding the top of the chair, flex every few seconds. He breathes; slow, deep breaths. He is worried, but calm. And then he speaks; a single command. The room shivers. “Good morning, RG. Open your eyes.” The Protector of Fire obeys the command, startling awake. He blinks, eyes wide with confusion as he turns his head to take in his surroundings, and fails to make sense of them. He opens his mouth, but says nothing, and closes it. After a long moment of pondering silence, he finally turns his gaze to the figure standing across from him, and now, his eyes light with emotion. A strange mix of awe and fear; wonder and hate. “Can you hear me?” the figure asks. “I can,” the Protector of Fire answers. He speaks slowly, uncertain. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t quite feel like myself. Something is… off?” The figure is disappointed by this response, but he presses on. “Do you know where you are?” “I… I thought I was dead?” RG whispers, asking the question to nobody, seeming both horrified and confused. “I thought I was dead. My son, he lived and died… my kingdom rose and fell. I… I’m in a *nightmare*.” The figure fights the urge to sneer, but moves on. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, RG, so long as you answer my questions correctly. Understand?” RG nods, but he seems afraid. The figure frowns, their fingers flexing tighter on the chair, gritting their teeth. “I’ll ask once more. Do you know where you are?” “I *am* in a nightmare,” RG says, the realization slowly dawning on him. “Oh gods… *you* did this, didn’t you? You’re doing this to me? No, not just to me, to… everyone? To all of Okoto? You won’t win… they’ll stop you.” The figure smirks. “They won’t. They might be stronger than I had anticipated… but it is their destiny to fall in the Great War. They cannot run from it.” The room shivers, and RG’s eyes close. The Protector of Fire slumps in his seat, his chin resting upon his chest once more. The figure slumps as well, rubbing at his temples with one hand, before seeming to come to a decision. “Very well. I will give everything.” -- In the South, Burned Harbor becomes one with the sea. In the South, Virndrung Vatten takes on his family’s role. House Vatten rules over the South for the first time in fifty years. In the South, Anahera Abissm rises as a Toa of Water, and prepares to spread her… teachings to all in the land. In the South, Reisen Tyde prepares for war. In the South, Krosht journeys back home. In the South, Pulse Vatten walks once more, as though he had never fallen… and he is joined by Voxumo the Usurper. In the South, they watch as the powers of Umarak fail, and Idris, Kirop, Guurahk, and so many others turn to dust in the wind, erased from reality. In Karamu, Hinterhall is frozen within a single instant in time. The nation is abandoned. On the last of a massive fleet of ships far out to sea, Rassilon Oak, Lewa, and Tex Aodh watch as Okoto disappears. In the North, Grave’s Peak is gone. In the North, Khan Nato assembles a Council of Ice, and re-claims his homeland. Rollor’s Reach belongs to the Knights no more. He prepares for the Great War. In the North, Isniel Lasang holds the Staff of Annona, and has earned the loyalty of the Dark Titan Teridax. In the North, Ehksidian Glacies commands the Knights, and with the Mask Maker Velika, protects the Mask of Time. She prepares for the Great War. In the North, Rilgivi Nivis searches with Kopaka for a way to open the Spirit Side, and rescue her trapped friends. In the North, FF Crustallus walks once more, as though he had never fallen. In the North, they watch as Teridax’s power fails him, and as Kopaka, Velika, Onua, and so many others turn to dust in the wind, erased from reality. -- A Protector of Fire, wearing maroon armor with bright red highlights, sits in a wooden chair. He is slumped in it, chin resting on his chest, eyes closed. He sits at a wooden table, in an otherwise empty room. Three of the walls hold torches, and the room is lit by the flickering fires. The fourth wall holds only a door, and the room is otherwise bare. A Protector of an unknown element in pitch black armor sits across from the Protector of Fire, sitting in a second chair, identical to that which the Protector of Fire sits in. The Protector in Black’s armor seems to meld effortlessly with the shadows, but it is only a trick of the light. His hands, each clasping the table, strain as he grips it, wrestling with some unknown frustration that boils deep in his soul. He breathes, nearly panting. He is overcome with anger and frustration, and worry. And then he speaks; a single command, loudly, so that the Protector of Fire will awaken. His soul shivers, gasping weakly, the last remnants of his power sliding away. “Good morning, RG. Open your eyes.” The Protector of Fire obeys the command, startling awake. He blinks, eyes wide with confusion as he turns his head to take in his surroundings, and fails to make sense of them. He opens his mouth, but says nothing, and closes it. After a long moment of pondering silence, he finally turns his gaze to the Protector in Black seated across from him. His eyes remain tired, from the leftovers of a forgotten sleep. “Can you hear me?” the Protector in Black asks. “Yes,” RG answers. He speaks slowly, uncertain. “I’m sorry. I don’t quite feel like myself.” The Protector in Black is worried, but pushes on, as his power continues to leave him. “That’s alright. Do you know where you are?” “I... I’m in a dream,” RG says. It’s almost a question, one asked to nobody. The Protector in Black nods. “That’s right, RG. You’re in a dream, of sorts. Would you like to wake up from this dream?” RG nods, slowly, seeming afraid. The Protector in Black shifts in his seat, resisting the urge to scream his frustration into the air. How can one island be this resilient? What makes it so special, that he must pour so much power? “There’s nothing to be afraid of, RG, so long as you answer my questions correctly,” he says. “Understand?” “Yes.” “I’ll ask once more, before we truly begin,” the Protector in Black says, staring at the Protector of Fire warily. “Do you know where you are?” “I’m in a dream.” “That’s right. You’re in a dream, of sorts. You’re in my dream,” the Protector in Black says, as the last of his power fades away. “Would you like to wake up from this dream?” RG seems uncertain, but after a long, tense moment, he shakes his head. The Protector in Black smiles, filled with relief. At last. His eyes bore into RG’s. “Good, RG, good. Now we can begin.” RG glances around the room, seeming half in a daze, before he turns back to the Protector in Black. “How do we start?” The Protector in Black leans forward on his elbows, clasping his hands before him. It is time for the final test, to see if the island will succumb to his powers, after he has sacrificed everything to destroy them. To see if they will give in to the change, and allow themselves to be destroyed. “First question,” he says. “Have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?” Silence reigns, seconds stretching into minutes, before RG speaks a single word. “No.” END - BZPGOT S3 IS NOW OVER! Congratulations to the following players for surviving, and emerging victorious: -Nato, with Nato Greavesey -Pulse, with Rilgivi Nivis & Virndrung Vatten -Ehks, with Ehksidian Glacies & Krosht Treml -Burnmad, with Reisen Tyde & Efandril Darkfire -Zippy, with Anahera Abissm -Blade, with Reyna Saryian -TL, with Rassilon Oak -FF, with Isniel Lasang -Jed, with Anuhea Petros -Dane, with Quin Galum (though Quin did die by Dane’s wishes in the Epilogue) I am currently beginning preliminary work of putting together Season 4 – or, to be more accurate, BZP’s Great Game – on Discord. If any of you (cough TL cough) aren’t on Discord yet, shoot me a PM and I’ll invite you, and you can watch, discuss, or help as I put it together. Thanks for playing; I might give a more detailed write up at some point, I don’t really know. But until then, go sign up for BZP’s Mata-Nui S2. I’m willing to bet Nato’s got some fun stuff planned. Adios.

Thanks for the sentiment. I greatly appreciate it, and can say the same for you. The experience wouldn't have been the same if the traitor aspect hadn't been present, and as frustrating as that was at times, I enjoyed our interactions overall. I've mentioned this on Discord, but the storylines of Efandril and Jakura - as well as the adversarial relationship they shared - was definitely one of my favorite parts of this season. While it would have been nice if both characters could have interacted with more outside of Aodhiim, I do think that in many ways, they each benefited from standing more alone. For Point 1, I do agree that I threw too much at Kamuk. If I could do it again, I think I would double down on the 'Vinheim vs Petros' plotline as I had originally planned to, and simply built it into a true election-type narrative (perhaps with some espionage and sabotage on either side). Kind of a more democratic version of the Aodhiim narrative, in a way (which was, actually, a contributing factor to why I ended up throwing so much at Kamuk, among others). For Point 2 I believe we discussed this somewhat on Discord already (so I won't say much here). I'll agree again that I certainly could have done better to emphasize the changes player choices were making to the narrative, as well as to make the choices available to you more obvious (or, in the case of situations where there were no choices, perhaps explaining why). For Point 3, I again mostly agree with you. In some ways, much of this season was designed to either be able to function in case players didn't fight each other (Aodhiim was kinda my gamble in that ballpark) or so that certain players could easily go off on their own and get stuff done (such as TL, who was stuck on BZP). I've struggled with getting players to act against each other in all three of these games, and I think I'm now finally getting a sense of the balance that needs to be struck (I feel that the Efandril vs Jakura plot, while it could have used some tweaking, is a good example of setting up PvP). But ultimately, this season was designed to emphasize Player vs NPC conflicts rather than Player vs Player, and that is something that I feel, in large part, did fail (though I personally believe that certain NPC antagonists - such as Nidhiki and Gavla - did work, as did the Rahkshi).

Episode Five ends this weekend, and then we'll move directly into the epilogue. That said, I'm just going to ask now: -What did you like about S3? -What did you NOT like about S3? What critiques do you have? Do you have any suggestions for the future? The more in-depth you can be, the better; while I make no promises and it honestly probably won't happen, there is the distant possibility of a S4, and the more you can give me in terms of what you liked and what you didn't (and how to improve), the better a future game could be.

so, it's been awhile haven't posted an entry since march, like holy cow how are you all what do you think of the new smash? if bzp wasn't dead i'd restart the smash files, but why bother

this

Kamuk has emerged victorious - Axalara, Scourge of Time, is dead. Kamuk suffered heavy losses; Fort Patrus is destroyed. Vinheim, Dallior, Nilkuu, Saoco, and Kerato were killed. Of the 12, 500 soldiers present for the battle, only 200 survived, and very few of the civilians in Fort Patrus still live. Kopaka, Velika, Pohatu and Virndrung all suffered serious injuries during the battle. But Ehks, Nato, Virndrung, Quin, Pouks, Photok, Pohatu, Velika, Ahkmou, Panrahk, and Kopaka all live, along with 200 of their soldiers. - We will begin with the South and with Aodhiim tomorrow night.

As it stands right now, I will go location-by-location for Episode 05, in this order: 1-Kamuk 2-The South 3-Aodhiim 4-Rollor's Reach

So a small announcement: It's officially become far more effort than it's worth to type these things out, so for the time being I will not be writing the rest of Episode 04, nor will I write out Episode 05 or Episode 06. They're too long, take too much time, and not many people actually read them anyway, so I'll be directing that time and energy elsewhere. Maybe somewhere down the line I'll write them out proper but I'm kinda over it, tbh. With that said, Episode 05 has technically begun. My plan for it has been to go location by location, to give each part of the finale the attention it deserved, but I'm kinda over that as well, go figure. I'll stick to it for now and make a final decision on how Episode 05 will go down tonight. I'll try and post a quick bullet point write-up for the rest of Ep 4, and I will do the same for Ep 5 once it ends. After Ep 5, we'll roll into the epilogue (AKA Ep 6).

EPISODE 04 “Of Gods and Men” (Part IV) -Temple of Histories- -Ehksidian Glacies- IC: Ehks, Dallior, Virndrung (Arrival) Inhaling sharply, Ehks leaned toward the ancient tome, and began to read. Legend speaks of powerful figures, known as Toa, who shall serve as the guardians of Okoto in times to come. Born from the powers of the Titans, these six heroes will stand against the dark. But there must only be six. Reading the stars is difficult, but one thing is clear - should a seventh Toa walk the surface of Okoto, then the end of times is near. Many events will signal the coming of what can only be called 'the Great War'. The birth of the Seventh Toa is one of them. Once the first six Toa are born, the countdown shall begin. From that moment forth, the birth of the Seventh Toa must be avoided and delayed at all costs. There is no telling whether it will work. Okoto must eventually fight the Great War. But perhaps it can be delayed indefinitely... Panicked impatience beginning to build up inside her, Ehks desperately scanned the rest of the page, searching for any further information. But there was nothing else. If the words before her were true, then the legends of the Seventh Toa from her time - how the seventh would be a Toa of Light, how they would stand against a Dark Titan to save Okoto – were either false, or are the product of several different prophecies being merged together over millennia. If a seventh Toa walked Okoto's shores – any seventh Toa – then the Great War was close. Sighing, she turned to the others. "It simply says that if a Seventh Toa arrives...the Great War is imminent. But that...that doesn't make sense. Not after all the stories." She began to pace, back and forth, her fingertips tapping at her mask. "Not to mention how impossible it would be to stop them from appearing...for all we know, by the time we get back they might already be there." Her pacing slowed, her expression turning thoughtful "The legends we heard...of the seventh Toa facing a Dark Titan...that had to come from somewhere. But where?" "A Dark Titan, an ancient enemy of Okoto, was sealed beneath the island by the powers of the Titans," Velika spoke up. "If they are all dead or gone, he might break free. Perhaps he seeks out this seventh Toa intentionally - or perhaps the Toa of Light." "Perhaps...but...what will cause the Great War? Something tells me..." she glanced back towards the book, "…that the Dark Titan itself isn't the cause of the War. Only a sign." "There's no way to know for certain until we return," urged Velika, "We must ask Kulta. The seventh toa might not be the key to preventing the war... but perhaps something else is." “Maybe,” Ehks grimaced, “I'm not looking forwards to asking Kulta. I'm pretty sure that'll be what destroys this place." As she said the words, she felt the familiar pull of magic, tugging her back towards the exit. "Let's go." Upon emerging from the temple, Ehksidian found Umarak, Kulta, Piruk and Photok exactly where she’d left them. A third Titan was walking away, all of the silver and gray Protectors following in their wake. "...Who's that?" "Our sister, Annona." Kulta answered. Ehks noticed an ornate staff in Annona’s hand, one that was surprisingly familiar to her. It was the same Staff that Luroka Qendroj had used as a walking stick for the past several years. "And that's...her staff?" Ehks asked, making a mental note to ask Luroka about the staff when she got back to her own time… if Luroka was still alive. "The Staff of Annona, gifted to her by the goddess Ma," Umarak said. "It is the source of all magic; what the goddess used to first spread it across the land." "I see. That's exactly what I thought it was, then." She cast her gaze back towards the tower and let out a sigh. "It was...not very fruitful, unfortunately." "The search for knowledge often is," Kulta said, "unless you know the right questions to ask." "Well then. Perhaps I should go and try and ask a better question...after all, I don't even know what it is specifically. That itself might provide some insight." "I'm not sure we have the time," Piruk said, audibly uncomfortable. "However long we spend here... I think we can safely assume that we'll lose just that in our own time. Every delay could cost us." "That...makes unfortunately too much sense. But knowing what we're up against is the only way to even think about what to do." "Then you must ask your question," Kulta sid. "You wished to speak with me before." "I know what will happen if I ask this question," Ehks muttered, "and it's not pretty." "We must," Velika reminded her. "It is dangerous to mess with time. Stick with the disasters we have already conquered, and the threat that we know." She nodded, and took in a deep breath. "Velika, please ready the Mask of time to take us back once this question is answered." This was it. She knew what her next words would bring, knew how many innocent lives she was about to condemn to death… or worse. "I'm sorry. We need to know what the Great War is...and if there's any possible way to stop it," I say, addressing Kulta directly. "Anything and everything." "You wish for me to look." She hesitated, a mix of hope and doubt creeping into her mind for a solitary moment. Could she somehow change Okoto’s fate? No, she couldn’t. Velika was right. Messing with time was too risky. "Yes.” She nodded. “I'm so sorry." It felt strange, even in the moment, for just how... unremarkable it was. This moment, she knew, was the catalyst for everything that Okoto would face… everything that it had already faced. Every triumph and every tragedy. The Long Night, the War for the Throne. The Mask Makers, the Undead, the Kings and Queens. All of it, it all boiled down to this moment, this desperate, selfish request. But there was no buildup. No stirring in the air, no sudden shift in the wind. Kulta simply blinked, and she looked, and she saw, and her eyes turned red, and then she turned to Piruk, a sad stare in her eyes. "I'm sorry. But your journey ends here." And then Piruk was gone, dust scattering in the breeze. "The Great War is the end of Okoto," Kulta continued, turning back to Ehks. "The Seventh Toa walks in the jungle. The dragon Baranus, Scourge of the Skies, brings his reckoning to Ice. The others fly to him. But do not worry. You will not face those horrors. You can find your destiny here and now, just like your friend." "Destiny can be changed!” Ehks protested, "I know that. I will not die here. Velika! Activate the mask, now!" The Mask of Time glowed, but then the glow faded, and Kulta shook her head. "I can't allow you to leave. I can't let you. It would be cruel, to let you see what is to come." Umarak, having recovered from a bout of frozen shock, moved forward to place a hand on Kulta's shoulder, looking to you. "What year?" he asked. "What year are you from?" Ehks felt her mouth go dry. "347 AE. Far in the future from here. I knew what would happen when I asked this. It already happened." Umarak nodded solemnly. Kulta fought against him as he pushed her back, before her eyes turned gold again and she sank to the ground, horror on her face. Umarak closed his eyes and sighs. "If I still live, I will come to you. No matter where I might be, I will come." The Mask of Time began to glow upon Velika's face once more, and the fogs of time obscured the world around them, as they were borne back to their own time. Ehksidian sunk to her knees, exhaling heavily. Piruk’s death hadn’t fully sunk in yet. It had been so sudden, so… absolute. There was nothing left of him but dust, trapped in the time before time. "...All of that...for so little. We've already failed if what she said has happened," She whispered, eyes stinging. "I failed. All of this to find out a way to stop the Great War. And the only thing to go off of is stopping the Seventh Toa from appearing. Was causing the Long Night worth such little information?" Her hands trembled, her shoulders shaking. It was too much, all too much. "She said the Seventh Toa already walks in the Jungle," Velika says, his tone and gaze dull. "And a dragon terrorizes the North. Baranus." "There's nothing we can do, then. It's too late to stop it." She clenched her fists, "...But, maybe, it was always too late. Maybe we can keep it from destroying Okoto." She couldn’t shake the image of Annona’s staff from her mind. It was the same staff Luroka had been using as a walking stick, she was sure of it. That couldn’t be a coincidence. There must've been more to it. "Luroka has Annona's staff. Has had it for a few years. We're not doomed yet. We might have failed to stop the war from happening,” a surge of determination forced her to rise to her feet, “but we aren't too late to stop Okoto's destruction." Velika shook his head. "We have no idea where Luroka is. And Kulta said more of these dragons are on their way right now. It's hopeless." "We can find him. Somehow. Giving up hope is the quickest way to ensure failure. I still have business to attend to in the North...before I left, I heard murmurings of a seventh Creature. The Creature of Light. I at least have to know if it's been found or not...it might be linked to the seventh Toa prowling the jungle." "We need to warn people," Said Photok. "Most people know that something is coming. We need to warn them that the Great War has begun." Ehks nodded. "We'll have to do that. There's f...four of us. Unless we're dropping Dallior back at his proper time, that is." "Hey, I'm in the thick of this mess now." Dallior assured her. "I'll stick with you guys." After a long period of silence - almost suffocating in its length - the world reappeared around the group, revealing the desolate wasteland of the Barren. "Home again, home again." Dallior quipped. "Where to, Ehks?" "We should...try and find Luroka. Not going to the ancient city...that's a bad idea." However, after an age of wandering the expansive wastes, it wasn’t Luroka that they found, but Virndrung. He stopped before them, one eyebrow raised in a quizzical expression, "Another group in the Barren? Odd. Fortunate that you picked now of all times to wander this place, I suppose." "Why do you say that?" replied Ehks. "You just missed a rather large battle, which resulted in the Brotherhood and the Vorahk more or less destroyed. Lots of casualties, including the Brotherhood's leaders. Toru Sevoi, Gikayok Shayd, the Prophet of the Brotherhood... I killed all three of them." Photok gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, a look of unease on his face. Velika remained silent, staring at the ground, shoulders slumped and eyes dull. "...Oh." Virndrung rolled his eyes, "Despite rumours to the contrary, I am not with the Brotherhood. Any information that states so is outdated, and was wrong to begin with. Simply put, a very powerful individual on this island wanted someone to monitor the Brotherhood and help destroy them when the time was right. You can ask Luroka Qendroj or Unit Ember, they will also tell you I am not of the Brotherhood. I gave the latter the Mask of Fire, and used the Staff of Anonna to put out the fire that ensued after Luroka had misused it several times. And if I come as a little bit odd; which I assume I do; I'm sorry; I haven't exactly been in proper civilisation or among people I can trust for a while now. " Now it was Ehks’ turn to raise an eyebrow, "The Staff of Annona was used? Where is it?" "Jed the Kingslayer, a few other Knights, Onua, and a Titan are taking it to Rollor's Reach as we speak.” "A Titan?" Velika asked quietly, some spark returning to his eyes. "Umarak?" “Good.” Ehks relaxed, “The staff might be our only hope against the Great War. Now I don't have to search for it..." "I wouldn't know, I have never met or seen Umarak. This titan never told us their name and erupted from the ground with the Knights, as strange as that might sound.” "That is...very odd," she muttered. "If they came with the Knights, though, I assume they're on our side.” Another through occurred to her, “Have you heard word of...more Toa appearing?" "No, I have not. I've been quite disconnected from the world outside the Barren." "That's understandable." She sighed. "Well then. It would be best for me to return to Rollor's Reach, then. At least to catch up on what happened while I was...gone." "Gone? How long have you been wandering the Barren?" "Not the Barren," Velika said, tapping the Mask of Time on his face. "The past." "The Mask of Time... You were in the past?" Virndrung made no effort to conceal his curiosity, "Are you collecting powerful artifacts like the Mask of Time and Staff of Annona? I know where the Torch of Ma is as well." "That may prove useful. And...in a way, yes. We need everything we can get to stop the Great War from wiping out Okoto. Even after visiting the past and the Temple of Histories, I still have no idea what we're up against..." she shuddered, "...Kulta mentioned a 'Baranus' right after...she erased Piruk. A great beast that would plague the North, and that its siblings would be coming to the island. I doubt you've heard news of that." "No, I haven't heard. But if you need everything you can get, then I can tell you about one more thing." Virndrung said carefully, "You're aware of the Mask of Ultimate Power, and how it was broken, right? Well, its pieces are scattered across Okoto. The Brotherhood wanted to collect and recreate the Mask. I don't think recreating it is a good idea, but perhaps the pieces still have power dormant within them." He paused. "Uh. Kulta? You met with Kulta in the past I presume? That... why would you visit Kulta? All those who visited her have never had a happy ending.” "The first meeting was her grabbing me and pulling us all out of our travel." She pointed back towards Dallior, and added, "That's why he's here. The second meeting...was before Kulta went mad." "Kulta can grab you through time...?" Virndrung grimaced. "Grabbed us while we were travelling, yes. It was just as terrifying as you imagine." "I'm so sorry. Well, if you need everything you can get. Why not head to Rollor's Reach via Kamuk, where on the way you can retrieve the Torch of Ma - I think a Protector of Stone has it?" She nodded. “Kamuk would be the best path to take this time.” "Well then, I might as well join you." "Perhaps.” Ehksidian looked to her other companions, “Velika? Dallior? Photok? What do you think?" "Any allies are better than no allies," Photok said. "Well then. Let's head off, then." "Indeed,” Dallior intoned, “Let's hit the road." -Spirit Side- -Rilgivi Nivis- IC: Rilgivi, ShadowVezon (A. Entrance) Rilgivi walked through the frozen and windy landscape of the temple world of Tempestos. It reminded her of home, until she looked up at the horizon, and then the sky. If the oversaturated brightly burning stars weren’t a dead giveaway, the three massive stellar bodies most certainly were. At this point she’d lost track of how long she had been here. A strange sensation hit her suddenly, a strange itch in the yet remarkably mild outbreaks of stonescale on her skin. And then she felt it. She could smell it. She hadn’t realized until now, but the Spirit Side inherently smelled differently than the Corporeal Side. She could smell the Corporeal Side… Okoto. Home. She then felt an odd sensation, before suddenly, the world felt like it changd in some indescribable way. In front of her, the air became distorted like some sort of heat mirage. Rilgivi watched the air in front of her. She then had the following idea: that a Spirit Gash was opening right in front of her. "STUR!" She yelled, to see if he was anywhere near. Subsequently she heard thunder booming in the air all around her, and slowly but surely a storm cloud started accumulating next to her, before a lightning from above energized it, completing the formation of Stur. "Intriguing." They muttered. "Please wait, Stur.” Rilgivi responded. “I'll gather the others." But before she even began to leave, the mirage began to, as best she could describe, crystallize, solidify, and slowly but surely it began smoothing out to reveal what Rilgivi recognized to be the interior of Rollor's Reach. Therein, Rilgivi saw a Protector of Stone "Stur, this is the corporeal side of the world... a Spirit Gash has opened! If possible, tell the others... You must be a Knight of Ekimu. I'm Commander Rilgivi Nivis of Agua Hielo's land forces. What's gone on here in my absence?" "My name is ShadowVezon Raqmu,” The Protector replied, “and I'm afraid things are looking grave here. A massive dragon named Baranus has begun devastating the North, and it plans to wipe out every living thing on Okoto. We're preparing to evaculate as many civilians as possible, but we only have so long before Baranus reaches us and at present we have no way to stop him from slaughtering us." Rilgivi could hear ShadowVezon, but it was as if he was speaking from behind a pane of glass. "The Dragons are already here? Then the world is ending now! I think I know a place where the citizens can be safe for the time being, with a very important precaution taken." She looked at Stur. "Is it feasible? Getting a large amount of people through a gash like this?" "I'm not sure it is... nor am I certain this is a gash we can cross through." Stur replied, a bit worried. "Not after all this time, no, I'm not going to let this opportunity pass us by. Either we return to the corporeal world, or we save my people by puling them through." Rilgivi quickly and brashly extended a hand toward ShadowVezon. "Grab my hand. We will make this gash one we can pass through!" Unfortunately, as she extended her hand, she hit it upon what felt like a solid surface. Her hand could not pass through. "Try from your side, ShadowVezon! You may be able to pass through, perhaps that is the issue." ShadowVezon stepped up to the gash and reached for Rilgivi's hand. His hand very nearly touched Rilgivi's... before he too hit upon what felt like a solid surface. As the two of them touched upon the surface, however, they could feel the world start to shift around once more, until suddenly, Rilgivi and Stur were both in the same room as ShadowVezon, and looking around once more, they saw that the strange window between worlds was gone. Stur diminished slightly upon being in the corporeal world, and their wild stormy cloud form became a little more rigid, taking on the more humanoid form Rilgivi remembered from when she first met them. Behind them, she felt the Spirit Gash close. Macku, Melum, the others… they’re all still on the other side… I must find a way to return. But there was no time to begin making rescue plans yet – for as soon as she and Stur crossed, several figures slammed into existence around them and ShadowVezon with a devastating crack. One figure wore the Mask of Creation - Ekimu - and another wore the Mask of Life, who must have been Voltex. The other six wore the armor of the Tribe of Time. All of them appeared weary, with pitted and damaged armor. "Ekimu?!" Rilgivi uttered in disbelief. "Yes... that's me..." Ekimu managed, stumbling. "Are you here because the world's ending?" Rilgivi inquired. "The Great War has reached Okoto's shores," Ekimu said, still breathing heavily. "We can delay the enemy no longer." "What do we do?" Asked Rilgivi. "The same that you always do," Voltex responded grimly. "Prepare for war." "How do you plan to win a war that cannot be won?” Rilgivi asked. “Spirit Gashes are already opening... that's how I and Stur are here." Neither of the Mask Makers seemed to recognize the term, nor did they recognize Stur. Voltex did, however, have an answer. "We have to believe that the war can be won - and we have to try." "Then what do we do?" Rilgivi responded. "This enemy you speak of... it is the Twilight Brood?" Stur asked in their characteristically thundering voice. Voltex shook his head. "I don't know about any twilight brood. We speak of the Dragons; the scourges of the world." "Dragons... scourges of the world you say?” Stur mulled this over. “Sounds like the twilight brood to me." Voltex shrugged. "Perhaps." "ShadowVezon,” Rilgivi now turned to the Stone Protector, “didn't you say one was coming here?" "That's right.” ShadowVezon replied. “He called himself Baranus, Scourge of the Skies." Ekimu and Voltex shared a loaded glance. "He's the one," Ekimu said. Voltex frowned. "But why was he here? Why wasn't he with the others?" "Sahmad made a bargain with him to give us more time,” ShadowVezon responded, “perhaps the absence of the others was part of the deal?" Rage flickered across Voltex's face before fading into distaste. "Did you say Sahmad?" "Give us more time?” Rilgivi asked incredulously. “Sahmad spread a plague throughout this land, and as a result he is to be killed on sight. He is not a friend of Agua Hielo, he is an enemy. And if you say he made a bargain with a dragon, then he is an enemy of existence." "Unfortunately,” ShadowVezon replied, “while Sahmad may be lethally incompetent, he's been the only help we've had. If any of you have a plan which might actually do something positive, I'd be eager to give you my support." Voltex said nothing, and Ekimu glanced among the group - to Voltex, to their six companions, to Rilgivi, to Stur, and then back to ShadowVezon before speaking: "If one of the dragons is already on Okoto, then none of our plans will work. We need to evacuate anyone who can't fight, and prepare anyone who can.” He fixed his gaze on Voltex. “We will need to put all of our quarrels aside until the Great War is over… I just hope that Umarak will have more time to prepare than us.” -The South: Ignika- -Krosht Treml- IC: Krosht, Terrorsaur "My lord," Krosht muttered, "Where should we go? Where would we be safe from Baranus?" "I'm not sure that anywhere will be safe from a creature like that," Nato replied grimly, "We need to lift the quarantine, on every border, otherwise our people will be boxed in with Baranus. One of us should head to the South, while the other should travel to Kamuk. They both need to know what's coming." "I shall head to the South, and let them know." "Very well. Good luck, Krosht." "Thank you, my lord." Now, after a long, tedious journey, Krosht approached the drunken leader of the South, and couldn’t stop himself from letting out a sigh. "Khan Terrorsaur," he announced, "I come bearing news." He didn't bother waiting for a response, or acknowledgement. "A great beast has set its sights on the North. It is poised to attack at any moment, and as such the North is being evacuated by my lord's command. The quarantine Hahli and I set up is no longer in effect… and, unfortunately, that beast...killed Hahli." "What sort of beast is this?" Terrorsaur asked, maybe a little more loudly than necessary. "Should we prepare soldiers here, or ready boats instead?" He made no acknowledgment of the last part of the message, willingly so. "Boats, if at all possible. I do not think we can defeat what is, essentially, a flying mountain that can breathe fire." Krosht seemed deadly serious. He was about to comment further when a nearby commotion caught his attention. Citizens screaming. Guards shouting. A figure came into view, tall and blue, with spines running down its hunched back. Its armour shimmered strangely, somehow shifting continuously in both hue and consistency. Guurahk had arrived. Before anyone could react, three of Terrorsaur’s guards were cut down where they stood, their wailing bodies slowly disintegrating upon contact with the creature's double-headed spear. And then, in a practiced, predatory motion, the Rahkshi flung its spear directly into Terrorsaur. He was flung backwards, but never quite reached the ground - the head of the spear plunged into the ground, suspending Terrorsaur’s impaled form. The Rahkshi strutted forward to retrieve its weapon, swatting aside an unfortunate guard with such force that his bones audibly cracked. In his last moments, Terrorsaur tried to speak, but his final words evaporated into meaningless gurgles as his throat – along with the rest of his body – dissolved. -Aodhiim: Silodas- -Efandril Aodh- IC: Efandril, Jakura (B. Exit), Unit (A. Arrival) Silodas was bustling more than usual when Efandril arrived, due to the banquet preparations. She soon came across the Captain of the Guard, Mamuk Ash, barking orders. The sight was a rather unfortunate one; despite his abysmal failure in protecting Sil, Mamuk remained steadfastly loyal to Jakura and House Aodh. It appeared that in his absence, whether purposefully or not, Kapura's suggestions had been sidestepped. After a moment longer of gazing at the adverse sight, Efrandril was approached by Otom Ash, one of the pyromancers. Unlike Mamuk, Otom's loyalties lay primarily with the Pyromancers; he’d had no real place in the world until Efandril had given him one. "Hello, Otom," She greeted her suborindate, "How go things?" "As well as one could hope, I suppose," Otom replied. He'd never been very politically minded; while he knew of her schemes, as all the pyromancers did. Otom had never been actively involved in Efandril’s plans… but he did have other uses. "The Imperator is in the banquet hall at the moment. Last I saw him, he and Korgot were chatting." "Ah, good to know," she replied. "I heard Ikir was in these parts, any news on that front?" He shook his head. "Last I heard, it was headed toward Madacus. Nobody can get closer than sight distance before it flees. Those that do get closer... well, some are still alive." "I see. Well, thank you for the news. Enjoy the festivities. Oh, and is Kapura here?" "Still out in Karamu," Otom says. "I doubt he'll remain long." "I see. See you around, then." With that, she left towards the banquet hall. With a final wave, Otom departed. Efandril parted the double doors leading into the banquet hall, and took a step into the room before stopping and surveying the people gathered within. Her eyes settled upon the sight of Jakura and Korgot, chatting up on a balcony. She advanced towards the pair, bowing slightly, as she announced her presence by clearing her throat. Startled by Efandril’s arrival, Korgot’s bow was flustered. "Lady Efandril! Hello!" Jakura’s bow was more dignified. "Welcome back, Efandril. I wasn't expecting your return so soon." "Pleasure to see you again, I hope you've been well." She smiled at Korgot, then turned to Jakura, "To be truthful, neither did I. Gavla was unexpectedly easy to convince, given Bartok's apparent difficulty." "Splendid to hear. And what of Bartok?" She arched an eyebrow. "Have you not seen him? We parted ways in Qendroj, while I stopped off in Vakama City. He was to have come here." "Peculiar. I've not seen him since Qendroj. Kapura made no mention of him, either. I'd hate to hear something happened to him during his travels." She pondered for a moment. "Indeed. But, how have things been going here?" "Well enough. If you weren't already aware, we're organizing a banquet in preparation for a talk of diplomacy with Karamu, should they accept our invitation. It was being arranged beforehand as an event in my honor, coincidentally enough," a noticeable tinge of dissatisfaction wormed its way into Jakura’s tone, "but fortunately it should turn out something more significant now." "Not a fan of self-aggrandizement, I see?" "It's Aodhiim as a nation that deserves to be aggrandized, not I alone. Not any of us alone." "I'm in agreement.” "Good to hear." "So, Karamu?" Efandril asked. "Lofty goal. Do you think they'll be receptive?" "I believe so. If only because they have few other options. With our acquisition of both Qendroj and Burned Harbor, we surround them on all land borders. It would be far wiser to accept our offer of alliance and reap the benefits than make themselves our enemies - or even remain neutral, what with the rumors of an impending war.” "That is all true, but it's important to consider, when discussing basic logic and elemental strategy, that this is Karamu we're talking about." "Indeed. They may require a demonstration of our willingness to honor an alliance, or they may outright refuse the offer. If I better knew the current political state of Karamu, I could offer a more educated guess. In either case, their answer will dictate our response. We'll know soon enough." "True enough... I hope they see reason, of course, but it seems like it would be a first." "Kapura went directly to Hinterhall," Korgot interjected. "He might know exactly what their political climate is like." Efandril’s expression twisted into a sly grin, "Hopefully he's keeping an eye out. In the most innocent of ways, of course." "He should be returning soon, or at least sending word if he isn't," Jakura nodded, "Kapura can handle himself better than most." Efandril looked around the room as the group collectively falls silent, pondering Jakura's most recent words. She certainly hoped that was right, it simply wouldn't do to have the Captain go missing in the land of Aodhiim's greatest foes. She turned back to Jakura, "When did you send him off?" Before Jakura could compose a reply, a group of newcomers made their way into the banquet hall. Efandril quickly recognised Mamuk Ash, with Tex Aodh and Balta Ash behind them. At the front of the group stood Unit Ember. In his hands he held the Mask of Fire, but his face was bare, and his body bore the marks of horrible burns. "Unit! Are you alright?” Efandril gasped, “Sit down, you look as if you're about to keel over." "It was just a few days… great spirit!" Jakura exclaimed at the sight of Unit. He rushed to the general's side, guiding him towards a nearby chair, before kneeling beside him. "What happened to you?” Despite his obvious pain, Unit’s face bore the closest approximation to a triumphant smiled that his injuries would allow. Only after bowing respectfully did he allow himself to be helped into the waiting chair. “That does not matter. What does is that we fought and won on the strength of Fire and Blood. The Brotherhood of Ata and the Rahkshi Vorahk are destroyed. We have reclaimed the Mask of Fire, and the Barren is ours for the taking." Jakura grinned widely at Unit, his eyes filled with sympathy for the General’s disfigured condition, "Well done, my friend. I'm proud of you." "Don't be," Tex mumbled. "Is there something more to be said, Voltex?" Jakura rose from his position at Unit's side, his gaze sweeping from one newcomer to the next. Tex shook his head, a vaguely horrified expression twisting his features. "It wasn't a battle. It was a massacre... and not just of the Brotherhood." Unit nodded grimly, "Nearly two hundred of our soldiers perished with Captain Narmoto. I will ensure that they are honored.” "Losses are... To be expected," Efandril chimed in. "Let us be glad more were not lost, for all that we have gained." “It was a hefty price to pay, but Efandril is correct.” Jakura nodded, “Nevertheless, it seems obvious who truly deserves the recognition at this banquet." He gestured towards the weary group. "Take the time to yourselves that you need. Spirit knows you deserve it. And I'll see about getting you a new mask as soon as possible, Unit." Tex’s bitter expression betrayed his dissatisfaction with the responses he’d been given, but Efandril wasn’t surprised. Voltex and his attitudes had never quite meshed with the rest of Aodhiim. There was a reason he was the only Loremaster to have come from their nation. Jakura noted Tex's dissatisfaction, but refrained from addressing it at the moment. Efandril, however, walked up and set her hand on Tex's shoulder, saying nothing. Tex shrugged her off, stalking away - and before anyone could try to go after him, Captain Kapura entered the hall. He looked... frustrated, to say the least. "Kapura?" Jakura made no effort to hide his surprise at the captain’s sudden arrival. "Captain!" Efandril called out. "What news?" Kapura ignored their calls, taking a detour to down no less than four glasses of wine before finally joining the group. "Let it not be said that I never make sacrifices for the greater good," he proclaims. "Because my lord, if I ever have to step foot into Hinterhall again, I think I will stab myself." "Well, sounds like things went swimmingly," Jakura quipped, though his expression was sour. Efandril winced. "Whatever you're imagining, I promise you, it's even crazier," Kapura replied. "Please elaborate, Captain," Unit instructed, his voice calm. "Makani Chloe is dead," he says bluntly. "The citizens of Hinterhall have risen up in rebellion, and are trashing the place. They don't care who they hurt or who they kill. They don't even seem to have a particular cause they're fighting for." "My best guess is that Lan Lasang is dead as well. I found Reyna Saryian acting as Makani in their palace - not that she was doing a great job of it - with Nidhiki and Tekulo Briar. Managed to convince Reyna to come, but... by the sounds of it, they still don't know who killed Chloe, so...." "Sounds like a disaster," Efandril said. "Not surprising that Reyna's doing a poor job leading. She's not enough of a loon to rule those degenerates." She cocked her head. "When will Reyna arrive?" "Already has. Same with Lady Vizuna and their Loremaster buddy, Rassilon. He's... had a bit of a growth spurt." Efandril’s head cocked further. "I'd say he just looks like a Toa, but, well," Kapura inspected his fingers, plucking some dirt out from under a nail and flicking it at Unit. "Let's be honest. He's probably a Toa.” “Ugh.” Efandril’s countenance became one of distaste, and a twinge of annoyance crept into her voice, "When are they showing up? I need to know when to stop speaking ill of them." "I left them with Otom Ash, with strict orders not to let them roam until somebody with more authority than myself came to grab them," Kapura smirked. "Don't worry." Jakura pressed his fingertips together, grimacing. "None of that sounds particularly good for us, though I'd be lying if I said I mourn Chloe in the slightest. I'm frankly surprised they agreed to come." "Perhaps we can offer some help in stopping the riots?" Unit suggested. "I spoke with Lady Vizuna very briefly during my trip to Arcadia," said Kapura. "She seemed to be a reasonable sort - or rather, as reasonable as someone from Jungle can be. And Rassilon has never been one for politics. He's probably here hoping to speak with Tex." "We can discuss such things after they've accepted our offer of alliance," Jakura replied, "But it is a benefit they'll have to consider." He turned back to Kapura. "We're just about ready for the banquet. I'll escort our guests in personally once it's time." "I'll come with you," said Korgot, looking and sounding uncertain, "I doubt I'm needed here...?" Jakura gave her an appreciative nod, before addressing Unit, "Have the mask stored somewhere secure for the time being.” "Well," Efandril said, "Would you like some company, General?" "I would," Unit replied, rising slowly from his seat. "Let us go together to store this mask. Karamu has no need to know that we have it." "That much is certain," Efandril agreed. "Let us walk together, then." As she finished speaking, she gestured towards one of the room's exits. Kapura rose to join you, holding his hand out to Unit. "I can hold the Mask if you'd like. Looks like your hands are burned too. That... can't be a nice sensation." "It stings a little, Captain, but I do not mind.” Unit assured him, “I will personally see this Mask to its first resting place in Aodhiim." Efandril led the group towards the exit, and after a brief journey, they soon found themselves in a set of private offices, typically used to maintain records. "This'll do." Efandril stopped, bringing the party to a halt. "For now.” Unit said, “After the banquet, we must move it to a more secured location." After a swift inspection of their surrounds, he carefully placed the mask in one of the cabinets, removing the papers within and placing them over the top of the mask to conceal it. Kapura, who’d been idly combing through the contents of one of the drawers, closed the cabinet he’d been sifting through and turned back to the rest of the group. "Best we can do until we can take it to the palace." Unit said, glancing over to Kapura, "Find anything interesting?" "Sure didn't look it." Said Efandril, who’d been watching Kapura. She nodded towards a door which would lead them further into this complex. "Let's keep moving. Don't want anyone to see us in here." "That we don't.” Unit agreed, “But why not go back to the hall so we can welcome our guests? Even if we're not fond of them." "She's right," Kapura said. "If we've been followed or seen, the deeper we go, the farther they'll need to search." "That's true," Unit conceded. "Off we go, then." He set off through the door. Efandril stopped to mutter something to Kapura, then followed Unit, her guards in tow. It wasn’t until two rooms later that Unit realised that Kapura was no longer with them. Unit (Unit Ember) - 04/04/2018 "Efandril, Kapura is gone. Let's go back to check on him." He turned around and started heading back without waiting for a response. "I sent him away," she said. "I was hoping we could have a private chat." As Unit reached for the door handle, Efandril placed a hand on the door itself. "Certainly. What bothers you?" Unit replied, relaxing slightly. "Before I get to the meat of it all," she opened, "I just want to say how much I respect you. Even before your most recent - and rousing - success, you have always been someone who I would look to, and say to myself, 'Now, there is a person who is perfect for their job’. You are the very image of a good general. You are resourceful, and dynamic; dedicated, and tenacious. And loyal. Perhaps more than anything else." "Thank you. You flatter me; I cannot speak for all of those traits. I can say that I strive to honor loyalty and integrity above all else. But please do not think I am perfect or beyond fault." She nodded. "I like to think I am exceedingly loyal, as well. Of course, a person proclaiming that they are loyal begs the question: What, or whom, are you loyal to? And often, people will answer in one of several ways interchangeably, never realizing that, if push comes to shove, they can only be truly, fully loyal, to but one of those things." "And you think that push has come to shove?" Her eyes sparkled in appreciation of his having completed her thought. "I think the push will shove imminently. And it makes me curious. Considering all other options to be in mutual exclusivity: To who - or what - are you loyal, before anything and everything else?" Unit straightened his back. "I am loyal to Aodhiim, her people, and her strength above all.” Efandril smiled warmly. "I'm glad to hear. Especially the strength bit. I've felt for a while... ever since the Jungle Region - excuse me, 'Karamu' - got out from under our heel, that our strength has been on the decline. It really started to show during the War of Five Kings. We let those damnable Earth Protectors walk all over us, let the Toa turn our own Darkfire against us and our allies. And in the end, we lay down and took it, like the rest of the nations." She stared him in the eyes. "Didn't that just boil your blood?" "I was disappointed at the time." he said, meeting her gaze. "But we are recovering rapidly. Qendroj City can be seized at any time. The political situation in Karamu is ripe for exploitation, the Barren has been conquered, and the Mask of Fire is ours. Our people have food on their tables and sleep without fear of attack. One could hardly ask for a better turn of events." "And yet, if you think about it... What, but for the Barren victory that you seized with your own hands, did we really do for ourselves? Nuhrii, dullard that he was in every other aspect, recognized that Qendroj was ripe for the taking. It practically fell into our lap, and Jakura had to be convinced not to pull out. Karamu, we've done nothing to cause, and mark my words; if nothing changes, we'll do nothing to exploit it. They'll maybe go through a couple leaders, eventually recover, and it'll be status quo again. And looming on the horizon... The War. Dwarfing our pitiful achievements like pebbles before a blood red sun. Nothing good will fall into our lap during the War. We'll have a hard enough time surviving it, even with a leader who's willing to make the hard choices, do what needs done-- take what's his." "We were soft, but I believe that Rollor has smiled upon us. Even my scouting expedition only became a conquest because the circumstances were right. Let us use the opportunities we've been given, and become proactive in creating new ones. If the War looms, then we have all the more reason to start immediately." A subtle smile appeared on his face. "I believe Karamu needs help calming their people. Perhaps we could station a few soldiers there. 'Temporarily', of course. And I hear that Kamuk holds a powerful relic. If it vanished, who would think to search the Barren for the thief?" "Good ideas, both," Efandril replied. "I, for one, would make sure they could be seen through." "Indeed. Those details will be worked out. More importantly, we have reassured each other that we will not let Aodhiim's might falter as long as we breathe. Let us go to the banquet now, and show Karamu what that means. Unless you have other concerns?" Efandril cocked her head, then extended her hand to shake. "None." "Good." Unit smiled and gave a good handshake, firm but not overpowering. As they walked back to the hall, Unit spoke up again, "My lady, I assume you destroyed the Turahk successfully?" Efandril stopped for a moment, having forgotten that Unit had been absent since before that had occurred. "Aye," she said. "I suppose no one's caught you up on that." "I haven't heard much news since my return. Congratulations! Now, Karamu doesn't need to know I was in the Barren. As far as they know, I was with you, and got burned fighting the demon." She smiled as they reached the banquet hall, setting her hand upon the door, in preparation of opening it. "You were in the Barren? 'Tis news to me." Unit only grinned in response, then assumed a more neutral expression as he prepared to meet the dignitaries from Karamu. Tex re-joined the pair as they opened the door, aiming a curt nod to each of them. Efandril directed a worried look in his direction, but nonetheless nodded back. Unit also nodded, before turning away and stepping through into the hall. To Be Continued in Part V.

just one more to go

EPISODE 04 “Of Gods and Men” (Part III) -Kamuk: Daggerfall- -Vinheim Maran- IC: Vinheim, Quin (B. Exit) Ahkmou was waiting for them at the gates of Daggerfall. “It’s amazing how much can change in such a short time, isn’t it Ahkmou?” Vinheim asked once they were in earshot. “I trust everything has gone well for you?” Ahkmou remained silent, looking worried, confused, and disgruntled all at once. His attention was fixed on the walking stick that Vinheim leaned on. “Er… before anything else, can I ask what happened to you, sir?” “I figured you might ask,” Vinheim said with a dark chuckle. “I fused with the Creature of Stone, though there were… difficulties in the process. Perhaps if it hadn’t been stressed prior it might have gone better – thankfully, the phyisicians in New Makuta City assured me that I’ll be able to walk properly again with time and healing. Though my left arm, it seems, is as lost as can be.” He moved to stand directly in front of Ahkmou, staring down at him. “Though that is the least of the events that has occurred. Let us head to the throne room.” He glanced over his shoulder at the guards escorting Quin and Pouks. “They will come too.” “Sahmad stopped by a few days ago, said you’d met,” Ahkmou said as they walked through the streets, sounding annoyed by the fact. “He… told me to tell you that he ‘sends his regards’.” The words were significant, but for the life of him, Vinheim couldn’t remember why. He knew that Sahmad had promised something about them… but nothing else. In fact, now that he thought about it, his entire meeting with Sahmad was clouded; all that he could remember was allowing him to sign ShadowVezon and Dekar to the Knights. He remained silent. Better to have Ahkmou believe the words meant nothing to him, than to risk showing off his newfound ignorance. Ahkmou led them past the throne room, and past his personal office, into a meeting room large enough for the four of them – and still small enough for privacy to be guaranteed. Vinheim immediately took a much-needed seat, propping his cane against the table. “Here’s the situation,” he began, looking around at Ahkmou, Quin, Pouks, and the guards. “From what I was told of the meeting with Sahmad, a creature by the name of Keetongu is the cause of Pohatu’s mental degradation. Keetongu is, apparently, in Karamu; I had planned on leading my soldiers into Karamu to take it on, but unfortunately, those plans have been derailed. The forces I took with me to New Makuta City are now engaging Panrahk, and with the Rahkshi now making its move, our priority must be to ensure the safety of Kamuk.” He turned to Quin and Pouks. “I was told that you visited Fort Patrus, and had a strange weapon of sorts on your person at the time. Please elaborate – I would rather avoid unexpected issues while we’re dealing with two different threats, along with the war on the horizon.” Feeling himself getting riled up, he took a deep breath before continuing. “You may all think of me what you will – but I will not sit by and risk the progress Kamuk has made being swept away. We will make it through the coming storm, and we will stand victorious when it is over, stronger than ever. Kamuk set the example that every nation of Okoto has followed since. We must continue to do so.” “That ‘weapon’ was the Torch,” Quin said. “Though it’s less a weapon and more of a… shield if anything. It’s a dangerous artifact, and unstable. I had trouble using it myself; I gave it to Lord Anuhea, in the worst-case scenario that you attempt to have him killed.” “The best deaths are those you never see coming,” Vinheim murmured, tracing his finger along the table. “If I wanted to kill that Petros dog, I wouldn’t do so in his face. I kept the Torch of Ma hidden away for a reason – its benefits don’t outweigh the risk of wielding it. Besides… what damage could be done if the Torch fell into the wrong hands?” Before Quin could even respond, Vinehim pressed on. “Do you truly believe Anuhea would give it back to you? The Rahkshi won’t go down easily, but if my army acts as a distraction, perhaps one wielding the Torch could strike it down from behind.” He turned to Ahkmou. “Do we have any intel on the Rahkshi we might be able to use? It’s combat methods, perhaps?” “We’re not using the Torch,” Quin said firmly. Vinheim ignored him – as did Ahkmou. “Both the Rahkshi and Pohatu were last sighted by Stoneworth, being tracked by a few hundred soldiers. They’re headed west. And Anuhea….” Ahkmou trailed off, mulling over his words before continuing. “He’s sent out messengers across Kamuk. He accuses you of falsely imprisoning your political enemies, and claims to have evidence proving it.” Vinheim rubbed his thumb against his temple as he listened to Ahkmou, his eyes closing as the news piled on. “Leave it to a Petros to make matters worse,” he grumbled. “Has the Petros dog made any attempt to provide such evidence? I’m doubtful they have any and are likely fabricating it, using my absence as their chance to seize momentum.” “His messengers made it clear that he found the evidence in the journal of a significant political advisor, and that anyone is free to visit Fort Patrus to see it themselves. He claims you would destroy the evidence if you had the chance.” “And the people’s impression of these lies?” “I can’t speak for everywhere else yet,” Ahkmou said, “but Daggerfall either hasn’t heard or doesn’t care; they’ve seen your rule at work directly.” Quin glanced to Pouks. “Pouks, how much do you know about Anuhea?” “He’s the current head of House Petros,” Pouks said. “Before long range communications died out, he frequently negotiated with other regions on trade matters. He had to keep them happy while simultaneously best serving the needs of Kamuk.” “We are going to raise an army to take out the Rahkshi,” Vinheim said darkly, rising to his feet and grabbing his cane, his decision made. “Then, we will knock on Fort Patrus’s door and reclaim the Torch. The time for mercy is over. Ahkmou, I want you to mobilize our forces in Daggerfall and New Makuta City, and have Stoneworth alerted.” “I recommend we split our forces,” Quin said. “They’ll be tired after a battle with the Rahkshi. I can try and talk some sense into Anuhea; he might have more respect for me than you.” “No. I gave you a chance. You were adamant about not using the Torch; I will respect that, and not force it upon you.” Vinheim looked over the map in consideration, before pointing to a spot halfway between Daggerfall and Fort Patrus. “We’ll set up camp here. We march in a day’s time. Have our… guests escorted to their accomodations and keep them under guard until then.” Quin sighed. “Once we retrieve the Torch, just to be clear – we aren’t using it?” “I have no intention of it,” Vinheim said. “Its downsides outweigh its benefits. It shall be secured once more, somewhere no one would dare to go. It will never see the light of day again.” He waved his arm, and the guards escorted Quin and Pouks away. A single look was enough to have Ahkmou closing and locking the door behind them before the Protector returned to his side. “Something to be said in private?” “I want Quin and his soldier killed,” Vinheim said, clenching his fist. “But I want them alive for the battle. Can we get our hands on a slow acting poison?” “It’d be difficult to get ahold of,” Ahkmou said slowly. “Harder than usual – people might not believe Anuhea, but he has succeeded in making sure we’ll be watched more closely than before. And I’d be very surprised if Quin were to accept anything we give him blindly.” “Not directly, just slipping it into his food. Though if we can’t secure poison… how about simply ensuring they don’t escape the battle alive?” “Front lines,” Ahkmou said. “I’ve heard reports from Aodhiim Karamu and the North. Word is that Fire and Jungle both managed to kill the Rahkshi terrorizing them but paid for it in the blood of dozens. As for the North… rumors from the border say that a force more than a thousand Protectors strong went to hunt their Rahkshi. Not a single person has returned. Put Quin on the front line and I doubt he’ll walk away.” “Hmm… it might work. Though even if it doesn’t, I’m sure we have a few soldiers in the ranks who would be willing to ensure Quin is struck down if it appears he’ll survive. Stray arrows are such hassles in large scale fights.” He tapped the table thoughtfully. “I believe that will be all for now. I’m going to retire to my quarters for now. Hopefully I can find myself a better cane than this glorified stick.” -Karamu: Arcadia- -Rassilon Oak- IC: Rassilon Rassilon stepped back from the headless corpse of Keetongu, dropping the axe in his hands. He glanced over to Lewa; the other Toa was standing still, staring down at the body. His eyes were wide, amazement written all over his face. “Lewa? Do you feel better now?” “… I do,” the Toa whispered. “Sirs,” one of the Protectors said. “We should head back into the city. Lady Vizuna will want to know what’s happened.” “Of course,” Rassilon said, nodding along. “We’ll need to send reinforcements to Hinterhall – when I left, the city was in chaos.” He and Lewa were led through Arcadia. Even now, used to the city as he was, Arcada was a marvel to look at – one that took his breath away. To those unfamiliar, the architecture of the city would seem alien in nature compared to the rest of the island. Speaking of architecture…. They were taken to a strange looking building, even by Arcadia’s standards – a giant cube balanced on one corner – and inside, were led to a large conference room. There, Lady Vizuna Boscage was holding council with several advisors. She stood as they entered. “Toa Lewa and… Rassilon Oak? I’d know your face anywhere. You’ve changed.” “It’s good to see you as well,” Rassilon said, inclining his head. “I recently united with the Creature of Jungle, though I still am unaware of exactly what I can do.” Vizuna nodded, accepting the answer. She had always been more willing than most to accept things at face value – probably because Arcadia itself wasn’t something most of Okoto would consider possible, even now. “Before whatever news you might have for me, I have some of my own,” she said. “Recently, a small squad of Aodhiim soldiers led by Captain Kapura Coal visited, on the orders of their Imperator. They were searching for their former Diplomat, RG II Coal. They found him and he became… hostile. They were forced to subdue him after he killed a few of their number, and several of our own.” Rassilon frowned. “Oh my. Where is he now?” “Dead,” she said. “Kapura has returned to Aodhiim to report it to the Imperator.” “I wonder why he was in our nation to begin with,” Rassilon murmured, his curiosity piqued. “He refused to share,” Vizuna said, leaning back in her seat. “So. What brings you here?” “After I united with the Creature, I had an instinct that pulled me in this direction,” Rassilon explained. “I discovered Keetongu attempting to attack the city, and Lewa and I were able to slay the beast. I also bring news of Hinterhall.” He was interrupted before he could continue by the arrival of a Protector of Fire, being led by several Jungle soldiers. “Who do we have here?” he asked. The Protector held out a scroll, which Lewa accepted. “The Imperator invites you to join him for a diplomatic banquet in Silodas.” “Interesting,” Lewa said, gazing at the scroll. Rassilon turned to Vizuna. “We should accept; I admit, I’ve been looking for a chance to meet with Loremaster Tex for some time and compare notes. What do you think?” “Arcadia can survive without me for a little while,” she said slowly, frowning. “What of you, Toa Lewa?” Lewa looked to Rassilon and shrugged. “I’ll let you decide where I’m needed most.” “I think you should remain behind,” Rassilong said. “We shouldn’t leave the city without a leader, or it might collapse just as Hinterhall has.” “I can remain here then,” Lewa agreed. “Unless you two have any immediate business to attend to, I can lead you back to Aodhiim,” the Fire Protector said. “Just a quick private matter with Vizuna and Lewa,” Rassilon said. “It won’t take long.” “Very well. I’ll wait outside.” Once everyone else had left the room, Rassilon turned back to Vizuna and Lewa. “We need to plan for the worst. Hinterhall has fallen to mass chaos, and I met with a Mask Maker named Sahmad. He claimed that Okoto has merely five years at best before its destruction.” “Gods,” Lewa muttered. “I suggest that we pre-emptively evacuate Karamu’s population to Ithaca,” Rassilon continued. “Back in my boyhood, I took part in one of the final Odyssey missions. I still have my notes from the journey and maps of the course we took. We rebuilt our civilization from the ground up after the War of Five Kings – with the help of myself and Lewa, I believe we can do it again. It’s why I want Lewa to remain behind. He can help organize our navy, and plan out the movement of the supplies that would be needed most. The people of Karamu will listen to him.” “If this is true, I suggest we keep some of our land forces here,” Lewa said. “Let the navy defend the general populace if necessary. Keep the army here to fight whatever is coming.” “If you think that’s best, then let it be done,” Rassilon said, shrugging. “I only suggest this plan for if all else fails. I don’t want to see our people suffer again.” “The plan is sound,” Vizuna says. “Perhaps our people will find better fortunes on an island that only they can call home.” “Then I guess it’s time to depart,” Rassilon said. “Let’s go.” -The South: Burned Harbor- -Anahera Abissm- IC: Anahera Anahera arrived at Burned Harbor to find it flying the distinctive red and gold banners of Aodhiim… and the entire city guard clearly mobilized. And yet, there was no sign of any Aodhiim soldiers, nor any signs of an attack. She suddenly found herself thankful that she had thought to disguise herself under a cloak. Nevertheless, she was halted outside the gate – which was, rather unusually, barred. Two Protectors of Water stood outside it. “State your name and business, traveler.” Anahera slowed her approach, staring at the Protectors. She could sense the lifeblood flowing through them. “I’m Anahera Abissm,” she said politely. “I came here to investigate rumors of magic amulets wreaking havoc. And… to speak with your leader about the… odd choice of decorations marring the walls.” “Reisen Tyde and Pythia Rayne are already tracking the amulets for you,” one said. “The choice of ‘decorations’ as you put it, I think is obvious.” “It is rather obvious why they’re there,” she said patiently, not rising to the bait. “I asked to see your leader about them. Not to admire the banners… simply to see who is behind them.” The two guards shared a look, but it quickly became clear that neither could come up with any legitimate reasons to deny her entry. “I’ll take you to Lady Gavla,” one said. “Thank you. I hope this can be resolved peacefully.” Anahera had practice with burying her true emotions, and this was no exception. No hint of her disgust and fury at these traitors could be seen. “So,” she said idly, as she was led through the streets, “how do you feel about the situation, if you feel comfortable answering?” “Burned Harbor is where it belongs, under the rule it has wanted for decades, if not longer,” the guard said. “Everyone who lives here is happy that Lady Gavla has finally united us to Fire.” This wasn’t as suprising to her as she wished it could be. House Lurrun, Burned Harbor, and the lands all around them had long shared more in common with Aodhiim in their ideologies than the South. “I see,” she said slowly. “And the entirety of the city is happy with this? I suppose anyone who wasn’t will have moved on by now.” “Very few were unhappy enough to leave right away,” the guard said. “Mostly a couple traders from the South. Everyone else is either happy, or at least willing to give being under the rule of Aodhiim a fair shot.” Traitors, Anahera thought with a mix of awe and gut-wrenching revulsion. Entirely full of traitors. “As long as everyone is happy, I suppose,” she said with a friendly smile. “But I must still talk to Lady Gavla on the matter.” It didn’t take them too long to reach the building where Gavla’s office was located. The guards allowed her through into a meeting room, where Gavla was speaking with her sister, Kirop Lurrun. There was no doubt about it – the blood of both Protectors was tainted, corrupted. Even without the Mask of Water, Anahera was certain she could have sensed it. She was looking at patient zero, the twisted core of the problem. She pulled her expression into a smile, though it was hidden behind her hood; her body language spoke of nothing but friendliness. “Hello,” she said. “I am Anahera Abissm. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Gavla looked at her, seeming unimpressed – though if word was true, Gavla was never impressed at first. “You want to know why we fly the flag of Aodhiim. You want to know why we have betrayed the South.” “Well, yes,” Anahera said, nodding. “I thought it might be best to speak with you in person, rather than take any rash actions. Perhaps we can sort things out.” “There is nothing to sort out,” Gavla said. “Aodhiim has proven their strength a hundred times over. My people have called for us to join them since before the War for the Throne. Now, they can finally be satisfied.” “Of course there are things to sort out,” Anahera said with practiced patience, stepping further into the room. “You’ve abruptly severed ties with Agua Hielo – so abruptly that I was not informed. I was originally visiting to assit with reports of anomalies in the city… something that I hear has already been rectified. By agents from the South, if I am not mistaken.” She stretched out her senses, and could feel the rushing blood of two guards just outside the room, as well as others nearby. Gavla shrugged. “Your Loremaster began her investigations before our negotiations with Aodhiim were finalized. But we are an independent people – Aodhiim has promised strength, not to let us go cowering to them over every issue that might crop up.” “I’m sure.” Anahera smiled. “And, as I have heard, everyone appears to be content with this change, despite how very sudden it is. Despite the political mess that will result….” “Any political mess with be entirely with the South,” Gavla said. “The change is sudden only to you. We have been preparing for this for years – and if you somehow force Burned Harbor to re-join the South, we will only begin the process again.” She turned to Kirop, patting her on the shoulder twice. “You can leave us, sister.” Anahera respectfully bowed her head as Kirop departed, before turning her attention back to Gavla. “I suppose you are right. Changing your minds simply will not work, hmm? Ha ha. There is no helping that.” She considered her options. Her powers were great and her cause noble, but she couldn’t risk failure. Something had to be done, but it had to be done right…. “I had a second task,” she said slowly. “Something slightly more… secretive. I assure you, it has nothing to do with your own state of affairs whatsoever. I was wondering if you might provide any help with the matter. I would be able to leave sooner, at the very least. Ha ha.” Gavla looked at her expectantly for several long seconds. “Well, go on then,” she finally said, irritated. Curious… she does not fear me. If anything, she’s comfortable…. It is either foolish or fearless to so carelessly be alone with the agent of a region one has betrayed. Perhaps both. “I was sent by the Southern Khan-” she let her expression change slightly, to denote annoyance “-to chase rumors of a cure for the North’s plague. Perhaps you have heard of it – it is quite the predicament. From my understanding, only certain people can assist with the cure… magical persons. Mask Makers, perhaps. I’m sure someone else would have been more suited for this errand, but you know the Khan. Ha ha. I was within arm’s reach.” Cut around the growth. See where the roots lie. Then begin extraction. “The trail leads to Oarsong,” Gavla said. “Your Loremaster has gone there to investigate directly.” Anahera extended her senses, but couldn’t sense any particular emotional response from Gavla at all. “My. I suppose the Khan simply forgot he’d already sent someone else… perhaps I am beginning to see your point.” “He’s a drunk,” Gavla said shortly. “Once, maybe, he was worth following. His work during the War for the Throne was admirable, as was his cunning in keeping Pulse Vatten hidden until the opportune moment. But that was thirty years ago. Now he is little more than a waste of space.” Anahera nodded. “He’s a good man, but perhaps being Khan is not the right place for him anymore. It pains me to say this, but I fear for his wellbeing – perhaps it is time for him to step down.” “And have some other member of House Rayne step up?” Gavla scoffed, shaking her head. “No. House Rayne remains lost in the past, remembering the glory days when House Vatten ruled us all. The old ways don’t work, not anymore – but they would force us to abide them all the same.” Anahera smiled behind her mask. “I may have some new ideas for a newer, better way to run things. Not directly – I’m no monarch – but, let’s say I desire a role as advisor to whomever steps in. They may or may not be from House Rayne; I doubt any one house could be certain to stay in power these days.” She stretched out, feeling for the bloodsong of the guards outside. They were easy enough to sense, and she suspected a demonstration was needed. Gavla was listening, but seemed bored – not surprising. She had no doubt heard this whole spiel before. Concentrating, she took the spinal fluid of the guards in her mind’s embrace and pulled. Behind her, both guards screamed, spasming as they collapsed to the floor. Gavla raised one eyebrow, but her heartbeat remained steady – and that, in turn, was more than impressive. Anahera did, however, have her undivided attention. She’s a tough nut to crack… but everyone cracks eventually. Screams drew attention, but soon wore out their welcome. Anahera clenched her fist, and as she did, the pressure in the guard’s eyes, ears and chest increased, until she felt something give in all three places, and both guards fell silent. “I am Ma’s servant, first and foremost,” she said to Gavla. “I do not end life – I grant wrongdoers mercy, and show them a choice. Live and learn from their mistakes… or squander their gift, and face punishment for their sins. Secondmost, I serve Agua Hielo. Khan Terrorsaur is unable to serve Agua Hielo or Ma. I cannot rule, but I can advise, and I can enforce. I do not know you well – but you are hard to shake, and you turned the entirety of Burned Harbor to your point of view. You know what a good leader must be like. I propose an alliance; I cannot harm you, not without drawing Aodhiim’s ire.” “I do not wish to lead the South,” Gavla said after a long moment. “There must be someone else.” “Then help me find them,” Anahera pressed. “I’m ready to move on from the South,” Gavla said, beginning to sound disinterested once more. “It’s you who are trying to convince me that you could make returning worth my while.” “I was offering the chance to choose the leader you would want for the South,” Anahera said. “If you’d rather I surprise you, then I can oblige. Your issue is with the current leadership. I am saying it will not be an issue in the near future.” Gavla shrugged. “It’s not just me you need to convince; it is all of Burned Harbor.” “I can be very convincing.” “Then convince them. Find a leader that they and I will approve of.” “That is the plan, yes.” Gavla waved her hand dismissively. “Then we are done here.” “…indeed,” Anahera said, nodding serenely. “It has been… informative, speaking with you today. If you wouldn’t mind, please keep my abilities to yourself… I’d hate to have to be concerned about Aodhiim getting any strange ideas. In exchange, I can take care of your guards, if a delay in me being escorted out of Burned Harbor can be arranged.” “I see no reason to escort you,” Gavla said. “Either you’ll leave or you won’t – guards won’t stop you.” Anahera laughed. “No, I suppose they won’t.” She walked out, looking down at the guards. One had choked on their own blood, though surprisingly, the other wheezed, still grasping weakly at the floor. “A pity,” she said, soft as a breath of wind. With her powers, she drew the blood from the dead, using it to encircle the corpse and the living guard. Waving a final farewell to Gavla, she walked the congealing mass out of the building and into the nearest alley she could find. There, she dropped her charge and opened a sewer grate, before kicking both the corpse and the feebly twitching survivor inside. “Filth returns to filth.” - Later, as she made her way through Burned Harbor, she began to feel something strange. It was as though a part of her body had gone numb and was at the same time tugging at her – but impossible to tug back. If she concentrated, she could feel it pulling at her from just outside the city. Anahera froze mid-step. This was important. No one else could interfere. She had to go. As she went up and over the city walls, what she found was a strange fish-like being. It hovered in the air, surrounded in mist, and looked upon her warily. Akida, Creature of Water, she realized, as she felt the strange sensation of something brushing against her mind. The Creature of Water was beautiful. Life emanated from it, surrounded it, painting a masterpiece of light and beauty. She silently beckoned it closer in her mind, ready for her destiny. She felt its presence brush through her mind, picking memories seemingly at random before discarding each in less than the blink of an eye. It seemed to be searching for something – hunting, with a specific purpose in mind. Wisdom, she realized. Future. Anahera had never felt so prepared. Ma had shown her the beautiful, untainted future – a body free of sickness, free of malignance, free of twisted tissues, the planet healthy and whole and There was blood spilling out, something was wrong, but it wasn’t her, couldn’t be her, she had done everything right everything perfect she had to do something she had to fix it but she had done it right she had done it Perfect. She gazed upon the future, free of suffering, life preserved and protected and her every breath, every step, all of it done only to bring it closer Closer Closer- And then the creature moved forward with incredible speed, latching onto her back. Someone screamed, and it was a terrible, high pitched shriek of a sound, and great claws ripped down her spine and blood ran and dripped down her legs into the dirt and her vision flared red and there was just pain pain pain And then black. To Be Continued in Part IV.

EPISODE 04 “Of Gods and Men” (Part II) -The North: Grave’s Peak- -Nato Greavesey- IC: Nato, Krosht, ShadowVezon They fell. Nato landed heavily, cursing, but found himself otherwise unharmed from the fall. Fortunately, it appeared Krosht was the same – and unfortunately, so was Sahmad. A few feet away, several audible snaps sounded from one of ShadowVezon’s arms as he landed upon it, but the former king ignored it in favor of rolling away from a spike of ice that stabbed where he had been lying a split second before. “Watch out!” Nato grunted as he was shoved to the side by Kazi – who then vanished in a whirlwind of snow, ice and stone, buried alive. Krosht stumbled toward him in the snow, panic in his eyes. “My lord,” he said, a tinge of panic seeping into his voice. “We can’t… we can’t stay here! The dragon will kill us!” “Shut it,” Nato hissed back, keeping his voice low. “We can’t outrun it, but if it thinks we died in the fall, perhaps it will move on and leave us be.” Krosht merely nodded in response as Nato peered upwards, trying to discern what the dragon was doing. Sahmad emerged from behind both of them then, and before either could react, the Mask Maker grabbed them by the back of their necks and shoved them forward. Sahmad seemed almost in a mindless daze about the whole thing, until all three of them collided with ShadowVezon – and then the world disappeared around them, even as dragon fire swallowed the ridge. They slowly reappeared, the world slowly fading in around them – the central square of Grave’s Peak. There was a rapidly growing crowd around its edges, all of them staring at you. Whatever teleportation magic Sahmad was working, it was taking far longer than usual. Krosht glanced around. “My lord,” he murmured, “do you know what is happening?” “Nothing good,” Nato replied cautiously. “But at least we’re away from Baranus.” “Just… taking awhile,” Sahmad said, sounding exhausted. “Need to… make sure he won’t track us. Not instantly, at least.” “Oh yes, take your time,” Nato drawled. “It’s not like we have anything better to do, like preparing a defence against the giant flying monster promising to destroy Okoto.” Something in Sahmad seemed to snap at the words; the Mask Maker’s eyes hardened. “If that’s how you want it,” he said, and he straightened as the teleportation ended far more suddenly than it should have – whatever anti-tracking measure Sahmad had been attempting halted halfway through. Sahmad opened his arms, gesturing to the gathered crowd. “Welcome home, Khan.” Nato wasted no time. “GUARDS! To me!” “For gods sake,” ShadowVezon muttered, but Nato ignored him, turning back to Sahmad. “You can either help us,” he declared. “Or be executed here and now for your crimes against the North. If I were you, I’d start by curing these innocent people of the plague you needlessly inflicted on them.” He frowned as Sahmad threw his head back and laughed for a long moment, even as five guards stepped forward through the crowd to stand at Nato’s side. “Really?” Sahmad asked. “And I suppose you’ll let me walk free if I cure you all of this ‘plague’ of yours, then?” “Of course not,” Nato said. “You know things – things that could be useful in defending against that monster, things that could help save lives. Not just here, but across Okoto. I’m giving you a choice – stay, help, and make amends for your mistakes… or die.” “I’ve done nothing to harm the North,” Sahmad said. “You cannot execute me just because you don’t like me. What evidence do you have against me?” “You… what?” Nato stammered, confused. What was Sahmad trying to play at? “You caused the Stone Plague! You walked into my office, threw a poisoned flower at me, and bragged about your plans. You think because Kazi’s dead, you can just pretend it didn’t happen?” Sahmad shook his head, rubbing at his temples and sighing. “Nato, I’m a Mask Maker. Why on earth would I walk into your office and poison you? And if I did, why would I use a flower of all things to do it?” The way he worded it, the tone of his voice – Sahmad was making the entire thing sound ridiculous, or attempting to… and it was clear that many in the crowd were buying it. The Mask Maker had barely finished speaking when he seemed to catch sight of something overhead, and he then ducked underneath a crossbow bolt, which hit the street. Guards now lined the rooftops as per Nato’s orders, ready to fire. “Wait, wait!” Nato shouted up to the guards. “Hold your fire!” They did so, and next to him, both Krosht and ShadowVezon breathed sighs of relief. He turned back to Sahmad. “I’m not doing this. I’m not playing your stupid game. I know what you did. My aides and guards all know what you did. The Knights and the South know, too. Discrediting me won’t work. Too many people know, people who know me, who know what I’ve done, the lives I’ve changed, the legacy I’ve left. So stop wasting our time. Help us save lives.” “You would kill me just to satisfy your own spiteful wishes, without bothering to show evidence that I’ve done anything you accuse me of?” Sahmad asked, sounding incredulous and disappointed at the same time. “Not even a trial? Just a public lynching, right here on the streets?” Many in the crowd were nodding along now. One even dared to call out: “if this guy is so bad, why weren’t we warned?!” Overcome momentarily by blind rage at the Mask Maker’s audacity, Nato stalked forward and attempted to kick him between the legs – but Sahhmad was able to easily dodge away, and the sight of their leader so easily losing his temper had lost him significant points with the crowd. Some of the guards now also looked uncertain. Scowling, he stared at Sahmad for several long moments, astounded by the Mask Maker’s arrogance. I spared his life on the ridge, gave him every chance to cooperate with me, to help instead of hurt, and he spurns me at every turn. What kind of harsh, terrible upbringing could lead to a person with such purposeless, callous spite? The lives of everyone in the North, everyone on Okoto, are on the line… and he still chooses to waste what little time we have trying to sabotage me, instead of helping me. “Please, Sahmad, for the sake of all the lives you’ve already ruined, don’t be this… petty, spiteful thing,” he said. “Cure the North of the plague you infected on it. Help us survive the storm you didn’t warn us about.” “I haven’t ruined any lives,” Sahmad said. “Except for Dekar… whom you killed while trying to murder me. My fault for pulling him out of Kamuk, though. I should have known he wasn’t ready….” He trailed off, falling silent for a moment as he bowed his head. Whether his moment of mourning for Dekar was true or false, Nato couldn’t say – but then Sahmad drew himself back up, staring at him defiantly. “I have the magic to do it, so I’ll cure the North of this ‘plague’,” he declared. “But then I demand a trial. By the laws of gods and men, I demand a trial by combat.” “Cure first. Surviving Baranus second,” Nato said, sighing. “Then you can have your trial by combat.” If I don’t kill you first. “No. This ends right here, right now,” Sahmad said. “I give the cure. And then, when I prove myself by Okoto’s ancient laws, you will cease your hositilities towards me. Name your champion.” Resisting the urge to hit Sahmad in the face, Nato resorted to glowering menacingly. “Me. I name me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Sahmad shook his head, closing his eyes. “No. I don’t want this. But it’s clear I won’t get a fair shot at a regular trial with you, and this is faster. I don’t need to fight you, Nato. You can name someone else.” Krosht stepped forward, until he stood in front of Nato. “My lord, I will fight in your stead. I hesistate to say this, but… you’re getting a bit too old to be fighting like this. I would rather not see you fall to Sahmad’s blade, especially after that fall.” Krosht’s gaze then snapped to Sahmad. “And as for you, Mask Maker… I will defeat you. You will cure the plague and apologize for lying about it – and then assist us with defeating Baranus. I am loathe to say it, but you are more useful alive than dead.” Krosht crossed his arms. “Telling falsehoods only hurts the trust you could have built between others, Sahmad. If unity was your goal… you failed the moment you tried to keep the North occupied instead of telling us of the threat within our own borders.” Sahmad shrugged, looking sorrowful. “I can only do what I can do. Give me your arm, if you will, and I’ll cure you.” The Mask Maker gestured to Krosht’s right arm, which was visibly impacted with Stonescale. Krosht nodded, sticking the arm out and grimacing. Sahmad took the arm in one hand and waved the other over it. Before their eyes, the Stonescale faded away. Krosht flexed his fingers, examining his now-cured arm. Sahmad stepped back, concentrating, before opening his arms – and if the rippling of the crowd was any indication, the crowd was now feeling the same, strange fuzzy effects that Nato could feel, as his own Stonescale vanished. “I can’t cure all the North from here,” Sahmad said. “But everyone here no carries the cure with them. If you find someone with the plague, you’ll cure them on contact. Same way the plague spread.” Then I don’t need you anymore, Nato thought, wordlessly gesturing for the guards on the rooftops to open fire. He knew the act would reflect poorly on him – but they would see. They’ll all see. Once they see Baranus. They’ll know. They’ll understand. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. “What are you doing?!” ShadowVezon hissed, grabbing at Nato with his uninjured hand. “If anyone knows how to defend against Baranus, it’s him!” Sahmad’s eyes went wide, and the same shield he used to defend against Baranus appeared with a resounding crack, spreading far enough to cover Krosht, who was still right in front of him. The arrows reflected off the shield, but luckily, none yet deflected into the crowd. The crowd themselves had frozen, terrified that the guards would open fire on them. “If you kill him now, you’ll doom us all!” ShadowVezon spat, as the guards prepared to fire again. “Call them off!” “We don’t have time for anymore of this nonsense!” he hissed back to ShadowVezon, but he nonetheless gestured for the guards to hold their fire before turning back to the crowd, raising his voice to be heard above their clamor. “A creature is coming to Grave’s Peak – a creature that this wretch-” he pointed at Sahmad “-struck a bargain with! It exists solely to destroy Okoto and its people, and it’s coming here, now, to kill us all. Every second of our time, your time, that Sahmad wastes puts your lives at further risk. This is a man who has no honor, who will not fight fair, who risks your lives just to spite me!” The same Protector from before – apparently now the voice of the crowd – scoffed at his words. “You have no honor! You’re about to execute him in the street with no trial, and you’re clearly willing to kill our Diplomat and us to do it!” Much of the crowd seemed to agree with him. The soldiers, however, hesitant though they might be, remained firm. “I learned long ago that a trial by combat doesn’t prove who’s innocent – only who is more powerful. You see Sahmad and the power he wields! How is any lone Protector expected to defeat that?” Nato shook his head. “I don’t expect you all to understand. But everything I do, everything I’ve ever done, has been to protect the people of the North, first and foremost. Baranus is coming to slaughter us all, at Sahmad’s bequest. Those who are still loyal, who still have faith, I beseech you to gather what supplies you can and flee this place. Scatter to all corners of the North, and take the cure with you. The rest… take shelter, take up arms, I don’t care. Soon enough, you’ll see that my words are true.” Some of the crowd was listening, and moved to follow his commands – until Krosht slowly turned, and broke their faith entirely. “My lord, that nearly killed me.” His voice was cold. “Were you so preoccupied with your hatred that you would accept sacrificing me just to kill him?” “If you fought him, you’d lose – as would I, and any other champion I’d name. He’s a Mask Maker.” “I would assume if he wished for a trial by combat, he wouldn’t stoop so low as to utilize his magical abilities.” Nato scowled. “There is no low he will not stoop to. He infected the North with a plague just to keep me out of play, and unleashed a monster within our borders.” Krosht crossed his arms. “And now you have stooped so low as to attempt to kill a man in the street. I assumed you were better than this.” “He is delaying us,” Nato said. “Continuing to squabble only wastes more time,” ShadowVezon said, his voice ringing with authority. “Ignore him then, Khan.” The crowd pressed forward on all of them, their dissatisfaction with the entire display beginning to boil over. Sahmad’s energy shield vanished, but he remained where he was – waiting. “Enough!” Nato hollered at the crowd. “Spread the word, tell everyone to gather what they can and evacuate! Open up every entrance, and get to the other strongholds in the North!” “I ain’t evacuating,” someone in the crowd yelled. “We still need the trial!” “Neither am I!” “Nor I!” All in all, less than a fifth of the crowd moved to leave – and even those that did were shambling slowly, reluctant to go. Nato glared at them al. “Suit yourselves,” he said, whirling around and stalking in the direction of the nearest city gate. “Come, Krosht. Let’s go.” -Karamu: Hinterhall- -Reyna Saryian- IC: Reyna, Tekulo They were exiting the palace and headed for the Temple of Time when several soldiers arrived, with two Fire Protectors among them. “Who are you?” Reyna asked, sharing a wary glance with Nidhiki and wondering what Protectors of Fire could be doing in Hinterhall. One of the two stepped forward. He looked rather worse for wear, but unharmed. “Your people are a real piece of work,” he said, sounding aggravated. “When I say that I had to fight my way in, I’m being entirely serious. I’m Captain Kapura Coal – the Imperator sent me here to invite the Makani to Silodas for a diplomatic banquet. We were intending to set up a better relationship between our two nations, but….” He trailed off, pointing his thumb over his shoulder back at Hinterhall. “I mean, come on.” “Trust me,” she said, sighing, “I completely understand. She motioned to her own eye, and the others in the group, all with various injuries. “I would completely welcome attempting to set up better relationships. The problem is… Lerahk just attacked, and in the chaos, a group of our citizens decided that it was a brilliant time to try and revolt.” “Lan didn’t help,” Nidhiki muttered. “As acting Makani, I deeply apologize for the actions of those rioters,” she continued. “My name is Reyna Saryian. My intention was to calm the crowd, but our Diplomat turned out to be a traitor working for Vinheim Maran. It’s a long story.” She extended her empty sword hand with a smile. “If there is a way that I could regain the crowd’s support, I would be more than willing to attend the banquet. My wish is that our nations can one day soon live in peace.” “You could leave Tekulo and myself in charge,” Nidhiki said slowly, frowning as he though it over. On his other side, Tekulo nodded. “Tekulo can promise them drinks to get them off the streets while I work behind the scenes to prepare everything for your return.” Kapura crossed his arms. “I’m not staying here any longer than I need to. So if anybody is coming with me, say so now.” Reyna turned to Tekulo. “You’re fine with this plan?” Tekulo nodded. “Go for it.” “Very well,” she said, turning to Kapura. “Lead the way.” -Aodhiim: Silodas- -Jakura Aodh- IC: Jakura In preparation for the banquet, Jakura stopped by his personal quarters to clean up and dress in a more formal attire than the ratty travelling cloak that he had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. His trusty dagger – a gift from Sil – remained concealed at his side, as always. Once he was finished, he headed toward the grand hall. The finishing touches for the event were still being set up for that evening. Locating Captain Mamuk Ash in the crowd, he pulled him aside. “It is of the utmost importance that this event be well-guarded,” Jakura said quietly, so that only the Captain could hear. “Assign men at the entryways and exits, and assure that they will beware any suspicious attendants. I want disguised soldiers among the crowd, as well. Additionally, post two of our best archers in hidden spots among the rafters – one at the far side of the room, and one at the near side. If trouble arises, it must be dealt with swiftly and decisively… tonight may decide this nation’s fate among Okoto for decades to come. Understood?” “Of course, your grace,” Mamuk said. “Captain Kapura gave us a list of some of his best by name. I can assign them to the tasks?” “Let me see the list.” Mamuk handed it to him; fifteen names had been written down on the parchment. Jakura recognized none beyond their surnames, though he knew that wasn’t unusual. These soldiers would be too low on the chain of command for him to know them by name… and yet, even still… his suspicions remained. He folded the parchment and slipped it into one of his pockets. “I appreciate Kapura’s resourcefulness, but I want you to assign your own men. Preferably those who have worked closely with me or my late brother in the past. You’ve assured my safety through the years, Captain. I trust you to continue to do so without issue.” The Captain seemed nervous, but nodded anyway. “As you command, sir.” As Mamuk hurried away, Jakura spotted Korgot standing out on one of the balconies. She was leaning against the rail, chatting with a Protector in the garb of the Pyromancers. Speaking of suspicions…. He casually walked past the two, maneuvering around some other Protectors loitering nearby to remain inconspicuous. He feigned surveying the scene before him while doing his best to eavesdrop on the conversation. With any luck, if Efandril or the Pyromancers were planning anything, he’d hear it now…. “So you’re saying it’s not possible?” Korgot asked. “I’m not saying it’s not possible. Just… very unlikely,” the Pyromancer replied. “Darkfire is just so volatile.” “I think it’s worth investigating further,” Korgot said. “Darkfire is dangerous, yes – but if we could find a way to give it more everyday uses… just think of the possibilities.” “Don’t you think we have?” asked the Pyromancer. “Darkfire torches and hearths and cooking fires sound nice, I know. We just aren’t at a stage where we can consider them yet.” Jakura smiled to himself with a sigh of relief and continued, now watching the preparations with genuine interest. His thoughts quickly fell to the likes of Balta and Kapura, and he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of concern for how both were faring in their respective missions. He hadn’t seen either in nearly two weeks. “Your grace!” It was Korgot. He turned, heart racing, but it did not appear as though he had been spotted listening in. Her gaze must have fallen on him as he was wandering; she gestured for him to join her and the Pyromancer on the balcony. Calmed by her friendly smile, he offered his own in return before approaching the two, offering a half-bow in greeting. “Hello once again, Miss Coal. I’m surprised to see you here so soon; who is your friend?” “Jakura, Otom Ash. Otom, the Imperator,” she said hurriedly, grabbing Jakura by the wrist and pulling him closer. “Otom and I have been debating the possible uses of darkfire. Specifically it’s possible uses outside of battle.” Otom sighed. “She’s eager.” “I can see that,” Jakura replied with a laugh. “I can’t say I blame her. If darkfire wasn’t as unstable as it is, Aodhiim would rule all Okoto by now.” “Think of what it could be used for, though,” Korgot said almost breathlessly. Her grip on his wrist tightened, but she didn’t seem to realize she was even holding it. “Ever burning torches and cooking fires and hearths. Eternal beacons to guide travellers.” “Endless fuel for work machinery and vehicles, ammunition and energy sources for large scale weaponry… large-scale mask forges like the ones of old,” Jakura added, tapping Korgot’s hand to remind her he hadn’t forgotten about her pursuits. She let him go, flushing and looking away. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Darkfire’s just exciting, when you think about what we could be using it for.” Jakura smiled awkwardly, rubbing at his neck. “Well, you obviously have plenty of good ideas. I’d wager you have theories on how to implement them, too. So why not reapply for the Pyromancers?” He glanced at Otom. “I know you’re always looking for sharp new recruits.” Korgot held up her other hand, and even now, he could make out the tremble. “I have many ideas for how to advance darkfire, but I can never be directly involved in its handling again,” she said sadly. “You don’t have to be,” Jakura replied, gently taking her hand and lowering it. His own hand was cool and smooth in contrast to her work-roughened palm. “Sign on as a consultant. The Pyromancers can assign an assistant to you to physically handle the darkfire, to bring your ideas to fruition.” Otom seemed interested by the idea. “It hasn’t really been done before,” he admitted, “but that doesn’t mean the position can’t be invented. Lady Efandril and Takua had to be focused on the war effort at first, and in the years after they needed to be ready for another war to break out at any moment. It’s only recently that they’ve been able to begin extending their focus elsewhere.” “It’s actually been a fair while since I received a report on your progress,” Jakura remarked. “Have the Lady and her assistant broken any new ground, Otom?” He scratched at his chin. “I know that they were transferring some of the darkfire to Qendroj City,” he said. “It should help with the defenses there, but there’s still far too much under Vakama City. But it’s a start.” “It is. Should our occasional expansions outward continue to prove successful, I would like to see outlying darkfire depots set up accordingly. But it’s all a matter of time and resources.” “I’ve heard rumors from some of the soldiers that we’re making another attempt to add Burned Harbor,” Korgot said, sounding curious. “Is that true?” “We’ve held several conferences with Gavla Lurrun over a short period of time, but we’ve yet to see any real progress,” Jakura answered, somewhat indirectly. “If we could secure Burned Harbor – really secure it…” Korgot trailed off. “They’re all that stops Karamu from monopolizing the food.” Otom looked uncomfortably, and wasn’t afraid to admit why: “I don’t know enough to say anything, really. I was never very good at anything until Takua let me into the Pyromancers.” Another charity case… Efandril and Takua appear to have a habit of taking them on. “Regardless, if this banquet goes well, then Karamu will no longer be a concern. They have the potential to be our greatest ally and supplier, and in turn our military will ensure their safety – and the safety of their goods – from the other nations.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony, and looked back to Otom with a smirk. “Do you know Takua well? I’ve never had the chance to really speak with him, despite how often we see each other. He seems the peculiar sort.” “He keeps to himself,” Otom said. “He’s close with both Lady Efandril and Loremaster Tex, but beyond them he doesn’t really… like people. Elittra gets along with most, but even she finds it hard to interact with him.” Korgot nodded. “He’s very smart, and very skilled. But beyond Tex and Efandril, he never really bothered getting to know anyone beyond polite acquaintance while I was there.” Jakura nodded slowly. I feel like that more often than not, he thought, though the throne keeps me from remaining isolated. Even if it’s a responsibility I still remain uncertain that I truly want… or that belongs to me, familiar though it might now be. He nearly scoffed aloud at his weakness, cursing himself. What would Sil think? His brother would spit upon them, no doubt. Pushing the painful idea from his mind and reserving his self-loathing for another time, he glanced back up at the others. Realizing that an awkward silence had descended, he quickly spoke up. “Perhaps he’ll find the time to attend the banquet, and we can all get to know each other more there.” “I’ll be surprised if he shows,” Korgot said. “He’s never very comfortable leaving Vakama City in the hands of anyone other than himself or Efandril. Doesn’t trust that something won’t go wrong.” Jakura shrugged. “I can’t blame him.” Otom held out his hand. “I’m afraid I need to get going,” he said. “If I see Lady Efandril, I can let her know where you are?” Jakura nodded and shook the Pyromancer’s hand. “It’ll be hard to miss this, but sure.” Otom departed, leaving him alone on the balcony with Korgot. “So,” she said, turning to him once they were alone, “how are you?” “I’m fine,” he replied, his typical response whenever asked that. “How are you?” She leaned on the balcony rail, eyeing him. “I’m fine too,” she said, her mouth twitching into the ghost of a smile. He could hear the friendly challenge in her voice, and what it implied: for her to share, he would have to share first. He looked away from her, out to the horizon, folding his arms. His eyes lost focus, wandering into the distance. "The clock is always ticking. We all realize it and comprehend it, even if we're not consciously aware of its existence. But there comes a moment, somewhere near the end, where the ticking becomes painfully obvious, grows louder with each passing minute. And we're forced to look at that clock and watch the hands creep closer and closer towards the conclusion of the final hour. It's always been inescapable, but at that moment, we're fully aware of the inescapability... and for most of us, the realization is more horrifying than the end itself. The final darkness - the descent of silence - is a final, relieving gasp after the agonizing wait. After the last tick is heard, and the pendulum falls still, and the gong sounds one last time with its dying breath. There's a hideous beauty to the sudden peace... and a beautiful hideousness to the escape from chaos. From the ticking of the clock." His gaze refocused, and he looked back to Korgot, his tired eyes meeting hers. “My clock is deafening.” “You believe you are about to die?” she frowned. There was something in her eye, some emotion that he couldn’t identify. “I believe the odds are against me.” “Why?” Korgot stepped closer, her voice now soft. “Aodhiim grows stronger by the day. Maybe a war is coming, but have we not always emerged victorious?” “Aodhiim’s greatest strength has always been itself, not its leader,” Jakura admitted with a gentle smile. “If there’s on thing I can find comfort in, it’s…” he trailed off, hit with a wave of confusion. “Did you say war?” “You haven’t heard the rumors, then,” she murmured. “Tex and the Loremasters in particular think one is coming, and coming soon. The Great War, they’re calling it.” “Hm,” he muttered, his upper lip twitching slightly. “I suppose we’ll have plenty to discuss when he returns, then, won’t we?” Korgot seemed dissatisfied by the talk of war, and before Jakura could, changed the conversation. “What do you do, when you’re not busy with your politicking?” “Well,” he said, sighing, “I spend a lot of time in the arts. Literature, painting, that sort of thing. I also dabble in the studies of lore, though I'm far from Tex's level of understanding. I'm greatly fascinated by the art of war, and General Unit has been teaching me to the best of his ability whenever he's free. I also enjoy combat training quite a bit, cause... well, it was the one thing Sil and I always had in common. He always bested me, though - maybe that's what encourages me to keep training," he added with a laugh. “What about you? What are your hobbies, besides forging?” “History,” she said. “Any history. But particularly anything lesser known; anything that was thought lost to the ages.” “I guess that’s something we have in common, then. I’d do anything to know all of Okoto’s secrets.” He looked at her with a smile that was part hopeful, part mischievous. “What secrets do you know?” “I know why nobody from House Kindle sits on your Council of Fire, and why none have been invited to this banquet,” she said. “I know the origins of the silent feud between your houses.” He was surprised by that. “Is that so?” “It’s tied to the Darkfire Rebellion,” she explained. “House Aodh and House Ash defeated House Darkfire, and set about removing the insurgents entirely – but both houses were still weak, weaker than they had ever been. You were both weaker than you’ve been since, honestly. House Kindle decided to make a power play, and adopted the words of House Darkfire as their own. From a Spark, an Inferno.” Jakura looked away, silent as he pondered those words. He hadn’t expected that sort of knowledge from Korgot; Efandril, perhaps. “How have you come by this information? How did you learn it?” “Lady Efandril found it when she discovered the darkfire recipes,” Korgot said. “She hasn’t shared it with many. Takua, myself, Elittra… Tex might know.” “She neglected to ever share that knowledge with me,” Jakura said, gripping the railing with frustration. “What of Kindle now, though? They’ve remained silent….” “Neither house remembers,” Korgot said quietly. “I think it’s why Efandril has kept it so close to the chest. Eventually, it’ll just fade away, like everything else that has been forgotten.” “Perhaps,” Jakura admitted. “Or perhaps our memories will fade while Kindle yet lingers… waiting for the opportune moment to rise again. Such things have happened before on this island, and they will happen again.” “Kindle isn’t in any state to do anything right now. The Battle for the Dawn and the War of Five Kings ruined them; they’ve barely enough men to their name to watch over Vakama City.” Jakura shrugged, turning back to peer over the balcony. “You’re probably right.” Korgot smiled, and there was that emotion in her eyes again, the one he couldn’t identify. “More than you know.” To Be Continued in Part III.

Also: Episode 5 will be the grand finale. Episode 6 will be a playable epilogue for those who manage to survive the bloodbath that will be Episode 5.

EPISODE 04 “Of Gods and Men” (Part I) -Qendroj City- -Efandril Aodh- IC: Efandril Efandril found Elittra waiting for her at the gate to Qendroj City. “Greetings,” she called, smiling warmly as she approached. Elittra didn’t return it. “You’ll want to see what I found in the vaults.” Efandril’s smile disappeared from her face, suddenly apprehensive as she took the final few steps forward to stand with Elittra. “You’re right on that. I do want to see. Show me.” Elittra led her into the city, where to her surprise, Efandril found an Earth Protector waiting for them – Garan Qendroj. Luroka’s second in command (or former second in command, now), who had been imprisoned during Nuhrii’s takeover. He looked exhausted. She turned a confused glance to Elittra. “Luroka’s lieutenant?” “I needed explanations,” Elittra explained. “He had them, in exchange for his… freedom.” “I see,” Efandril responded. “And what explanations did he have to offer?” Elittra didn’t respond, instead leading her down to the vaults. Garan followed, limping slightly, though Efandril put it out of her mind. She had always suspected that Elittra could be somewhat overzealous. So long as she didn’t know for certain, however, she didn’t need to intervene – which was helpful, since Elittra had yet to let her down. They arrived at the nearest of the vaults a few minutes later, and gesturing for the guards to step aside, Elittra led them in. Laying on a table in the center of the vault were two objects. The first, a Staff, was unremarkable beyond its rather ornate design. But the second… it was clearly the fragment of a mask, and Efandril could already feel the Dark Energy leaking out of it into the room. She furrowed her brow at the sight. “Do we know anything about either of these items?” “The Staff is designed to look like the Staff of Annona,” Elittra said. “But… very bad news on that front.” “The true Staff is held by Luroka,” Garan said quietly, his voice sounding hoarse. The Earth Protector gingerly rubbed his throat as he continued, “he took it with him out into the Barren. I am… very worried. The Staff… it’s the source of all magic. It’s not designed to be wielded by us Protectors. If he has tried to use it – particularly against any enemies – it’s likely he has instead caused a disaster.” “Not great on that front,” Elittra admitted. “The shard is a more immediate concern. It’s from the Mask of Ultimate Power.” Efandril inhaled sharply and deeply. To be in the same room as a fragment of the Mask of Ultimate Power…. “I figured it was something like that,” she murmured. “This room is suffused with its power. Do we have any leads on where the others might be?” “We suspect one in each region,” Garan answered, after a sharp look from Elittra. “It’s likely the Brotherhood holds one. They would be drawn to its aura more than most.” She kept her eyes fixed on it as she responded. “Do you think the other nations might be holding any? Or are they yet hidden?” Could there be one in Aodhiim? What if Jakura is hiding it? “My best guess is that the mask shattered during or shortly after the Battle for the Dawn,” Garan said. “The pieces didn’t scatter on their own – someone in the Knights probably hid a different piece in every region of Okoto. It’s what I would have done. Makes reuniting them extremely hard, but still easier than other options to keep track of. It’s not the kind of mask you could just melt down.” “Would it be possible to destroy it at all?” Efandril asked, now turning her gaze fully to the Earth Protector. “Could a Mask Maker do it?” “If they could, I think they would have.” She pondered the thought for a moment. “I suppose you’re right.” Her eyes then fixed upon the replica Staff of Annona. “What about the Staff?” Garan shrugged, looking wary. “What about it?” “Could it destroy the fragments of the mask?” “I have no idea. Luroka never tried; I would be scared to.” “…perhaps he could be persuaded to try. I do have quite the bargaining chip.” She opened her arms and gestured upward, to the city. Garan sighed and shrugged again. “Maybe.” Efandril fell silent, deep in thought. With the Great War on the horizon, it was difficult to reconcile all her different plans and desires with one another. She wanted the Mask of Fire, and she wanted to find Ikir. More than anything, she wanted Aodhiim. But now the Mask of Ultimate Power was literally on the table (or at least, part of it was), and with it, the great threat that it represented. And, she dared admit, the perhaps greater boon. As if that were not enough, Luroka held the Staff of Annona. It was a lot to consider. “Well, I can only thank you for the knowledge you’ve shared with us. I will do my very best to ensure that the fragment remains safe and secure.” “Do what you will,” Garan said, sounding too tired to care. She offered the man a glance that was equal parts sympathizing and pitying. In the absence of any further development, she turned and exited the room. Elittra and Garan followed. “Make sure there are at least four guards posted outside at all times,” Efandril ordered, directing the words to Elittra. “Only you or I enter, on threat of death.” Elittra nodded. “As you say, my lady.” - Her business in Qendroj City completed, she continued her travels. Now alone aside from her guards (whom, unlike Bartok, could match her quick pace), she soon found herself in Vakama City. Takua greeted her at the gates again, having clearly been awaiting her return. They greeted each other warmly before, understanding the need for privacy, Takua took her to his home on the outskirts of the city. There was a momentary close call where the head of House Kindle attempted to speak with them, but thankfully, Takua was able to quickly brush them off. Once they were inside, they settled in Takua’s office. As Takua poured them each a glass of wine, Efandril began to speak. “How have things been while I was away?” “Just as I was hoping,” Takua said. “We shipped the darkfire you wanted to Qendroj City. Captain Kapura and the Imperator are organizing a banquet in Silodas. There’s still no word from General Unit, however.” “That last point is worrying… but, it does not prevent us from moving forward,” she said. “It’s nearly time.” “Should I come with you to the banquet?” Takua asked quietly, sipping his wine as she accepted hers. “I’d personally prefer to remain here. I know what the consequences might be, but… it’s better, sometimes, to just do it yourself.” “There are far better men to fall the plunger than my closest confidante,” Efandril replied, somewhat exasperated. “And besides, I may need you. I think the Imperator grows suspicious.” “Who else would you trust here?” Takua asked. “Elittra is in Qendroj; you’ll have Kapura and Korgot in Silodas.” Efandril grimaced as he pointed it out. “It’s not like they’re the only members of our clan. We’ve numerous other men and women who would fight each other for the right to usher in our new age.” As confident as her wording was, however, she knew her intonation was shaky and unsure. “You’re right,” he said, setting his wine down and resting his hand on her arm. “But how many of them are as subtle as we are? How many of them are so skilled that they have lived for years – decades, even – in the public eye without faltering once?” “It’s not surgery,” she replied. “We just need someone who can see the others out and tip over a jar. Any lack of subtlety will be erased when this place goes sky high.” She knew he was right, deep in her heart, but nonetheless continued: “And can I expect Korgot or Kapura to handle Balta, or poison a glass of wine, without arousing suspicion?” “Korgot is well placed, I think. Kapura can do the job in a pinch if she can’t,” Takua said. Efandril inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth and saying nothing. “Every victory has its cost,” Takua reminded her. “Sacrifices must be made.” “Fine,” she said, finally, her unhappiness clear on her face and in her tone. “You’ll do it then. I’ll have the Pyromancers prepare to evacuate. The banquet is two nights from now… the time will be then.” “Understood.” Takua held out his hand. “If I make it, I’ll find you. But if not… remember. You’re the spark that will light the inferno.” Finding herself too choked up for words, Efandril merely nodded, setting down her own glass before shaking his hand and departing. The end was near. It was time to see everything through. -Spirit Side- -Rilgivi Nivis- IC: Rilgivi As the transformation completed itself before Rilgivi’s eyes, the open outside now shone its ethereal light upon her and her men. The room was bathed in otherworldly hues, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, the sight her gaze met was nearly indescribable. She stood now at the top of a massive tower, itself standing on top of a mountain that she suspected was as big as Okoto itself – if not bigger. Rivers of silver and light flowed from alcoves in the sides of the tower, breaking into a tapestry of rivers and waterfalls upon the mountainside. The staircase she had ascended earlier had transformed into a spiral staircase, snaking around the outside of the tower. In the distance she saw not a sun, nor a horizon, but instead a multitude of islands floating just beyond where the horizon should be, each distinct and beautiful in their own way. What she had originally believed to be the sun was a bright light on top of another tower, one so far in the distance that Rilgivi found it incredible that she could even spot it. Its lands were surrounded in a red and orange hue, with rivers of golden magma permeating its landscape. Where the light that shone down upon her came from, however, was an ever-changing glow in the sky. It wasn’t the simple blue of her own world, but instead an ever-shifting pool of hues and patterns. Looking back at the three beings who had transported her here, she now saw them growing. All three of them now loomed over her, at least three times her height; the wind being sat in the throne was nearly ten times her size, reaching the dome ceiling. Their appearances had become much less rigid (if they had had any true forms to them to begin with), losing the humanoid forms that had defined their masses before. The storm cloud looked like an actual storm cloud, and the snow being looked like mild snowfall centered around its mask. The wind being… was something else entirely. “Welcome to the Spirit Side, Rilgivi Nivis,” the wind being uttered, and for the first time, she could almost hear amusement in its tone. Overtaken by curiosity, she stuttered a bit. “D… does this place have a name? Are you… gods?” “Gods? Dear me, no. We’re merely elemental spirits. We guard this temple in honor of the Lord of Storms, Tempestos. We are their descendants.” She felt as thought the wind being lowered itself, kneeling perhaps, down toward her and Macku. “In fact, it seems you too share a relation to an Element Lord – albeit incredibly distant. Hrimgrand, Lord of Frost. You all share an ancestry with Hielgal here… interesting.” “Hrimgrand?” “Ancestor to you, your companions, and Hielgal,” the wind being repeated, and she had the sensation that it had gestured somewhat vaguely to the cloud of snowflakes. “I’m sorry, I’m just… overwhelmed by all of this,” she said, too awestruck at the sight of the Spirit Side to say much more. “Was this always separate from the… Corporeal Side?” “No. In the beginning, the two were one. Built upon the celestial body of Atama, this world was forged and shaped by the Element Lords, each imparting their progeny upon it so that they could be guardians of the balance and caretakes of the beings that emerged from the worldflesh. Unfortunately, one half of the worldsoul, Ata, sought to conquer and destroy what the Element Lords had built. With help from Ma, we managed to stop this great evil – but at an equally great cost.” The wind being appeared to… hesitate, almost, before it continued. “Ma sacrificed themselves, and in doing so, separated the pure elementals from their demi-elemental offspring, leaving them to fend for themselves under the guidance of their new guardians – the six Titans of Ma, in the Corporeal Side.” I can barely understand half of this, Rilgivi thought, and it was clear Macku was thinking the same. “Since then, the Spirit Side has continued to drift away from the Corporeal Side. Its landscapes stretch and contort to suit us, its incorporeal inhabitants. Nowadays, we Elemental Spirits do little more than tend to the temples of our given Lords. This is but one temple to Tempestos, born of Boreas, born of Vastra. The other Element Lords have their own temples, including Hrimgrand.” A chill had gone down Rilgivi’s spine at the mention of Ma and Ata – those, at least, were names that she recognized. “Ata? There is a Brotherhood, claiming themselves to be of Ata, in one of our regions. It is a desolate wasteland called the Barren. Does this side reflect the other, or have the two sides drifted too far apart?” If the wind being had been solid and humanoid, she suspected it would have scratched its chin thoughtfully. “The temple of Tremond, Lord of Earth, adjacent to your Earth Region was recently abandoned, having fallen to Dark Energies. Although the two sides have drifted apart physically, they still affect each other on a deeper level. I’m not really the one to consult about it, though; I have little knowledge of happenings on your side. My responsibilities rarely extend beyond this temple.” Stur spoke now, bolts of lightning flickering in the thundercloud. “The fact that beings on your side worship Ata, though… that is worrying.” “May I see this Temple of Tremond?” Rilgivi asked. “Not to go inside, merely to look upon it. It might give us some idea if anything bad is going on in there, or on the Corporeal Side.” The wind being considered this for a moment. “Perhaps. But we cannot take you there.” Stur floated forward. “What about Ackar? He can take them there, can’t he?” “Hmm… it is possible.” “I mean not to enter it,” Rilgivi said. “That sounds like it would be the errand of a fool. I wish only to observe it.” “Entering the temple won’t be any more dangerous than approaching the realm surrounding it,” the wind being said. “All of it radiates with Dark Energy, and it is roamed by twisted spirits. If anything, the temple is the safest point there… relatively speaking, that is.” “Then may I meet this Ackar?” she asked. “We might be able to find something – or do something – to change things for the better on the Corporeal Side.” “That… may be,” the wind being mused. “I’m not sure. For now, wait here. We shall call for Ackar, and hope he deems it worth his time to visit here twice in the same aye.” The three Elemental Spirits turned from Rilgivi and moved to the throne once more, resuming their arrangement from earlier. The teal crystals lit up again, although this time Rilgivi noticed the energy being channeled upward – and looking up beyond the roof of the temple, she saw a teal beam shooting into the sky, before a glowing teal trail raced across it and into the distance. -The Barren- -Virndrung Vatten- IC: Virndrung, Luroka, Unit, Quad Roka (Fix), Isniel (A. Arrival), Jed (A. Arrival) Virndrung eyed Luroka warily. “Luroka… I’d like to try and use the Staff. You broke minds with it, even if I hope that it was unintentional. Let me see if that can’t be undone.” “I can’t let you do that,” the Earth Protector said. “The result would undoubtedly make matters worse.” “Would it?” Virndrung asked, remembering his own use of the Staff moments before and how it had, in fact, worked almost perfectly for him… though he also remembered what had happened when Luroka felt things weren’t going how he wanted. “Death is a mercy compared to the state of being mindless… but in the chances it does go wrong, I suppose you could be right.” He glanced northwest, in the direction of Kamuk. “There is something else all here should know. Two things, of equal importance. First – everyone knows about the Mask of Ultimate Power, how it controlled and made my father, Pulse Vatten, a mindless monster. Its fragments are scattered around Okoto, and the Brotherhood wished to reunify them. Second, I know the approximate location of the Torch of Ma. A Protector in Kamuk wields it.” Luroka didn’t seem as surprised by the first piece of information as Virndrung had expected. “Who else knows the location of the fragments? And what of the Torch, what is it?” “The Brotherhood had one,” Virndrung said slowly. “There is one in each region, I believe. As for the Torch… it’s like the Staff, but different. Something might happen when one wields both.” Luroka opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as the ground beneath them all trembled once more. What now? He warily thought to himself, trying to keep his balance and eyeing Onua – but the Toa clearly wasn’t responsible this time, not with the state he was in. We’ve already been through more than enough… and tremors are never a good sign. “What is this?!” Luroka gripped the Staff tightly to keep upright, while Unit grimaced and fell to one knee. The trembling increased, and a rapidly growing spiderweb of cracks appeared in the earth not too far away. Virndrung tried to keep his distance from the cracks, following Unit’s example and falling down to one knee for balance, mentally preparing himself for another battle. Before their eyes, the earth exploded, and when everything settled, seven figures stepped out from under the Barren. Virndrung recognized several of them. Jed Corruich, Tex Aodh, Isniel Lasang, and Metus Crustallus were all members of the Knights. The other two Protectors – a Protector of Water and a Protector of Stone – were likely Knights as well. But the final figure… shadows seemed to gather around them. They were similar to Kulta and Umarak in stature, and yet somehow darker than either. A Dark Titan? The newcomers all surveyed the landscape. Their expressions took on various states of distaste and horror at the sight of the battlefield filled with charred corpses, covered in blood and muck and, still some ways away, the remnants of the Brotherhood still actively slaughtering each other. Virndrung knew they weren’t missing the injuries to the survivors either – the seriouis burns down Luroka’s side, Unit’s own burns and missing mask, Onua’s missing arm, and the empty gaze of Quad Roka. Jed… Knights… a Titan of Ata… no, no, now is not the time, Virndrung thought, his panic mounting rapidly before he forced it down. No, no, calm down. Think, don’t be an idiot. Why would Jed Corruich of all people ally with a Dark Titan? Does Jed know what I’ve done? I should tell him. Ask question. Hope for answers. He cleared his throat and spoke quickly, wary and fearful of the Titan and addressing Jed. “Jed Corruich, I know you. Knight of Ekimu, Kingslayer, friend and advisor to my father, Pulse Vatten. I’m not sure how much you know of me. I’m Virndrung Vatten, and today I have avenged my father and helped to destroy the Brotherhood. Any information that says I’m a member of the Brotherhood is out of date, and wrong. Now, I think all of us would like to know why you’re here, and who your company is?” The group remained silent, and none moved except for the Titan, who approached but walked past everyone in silence, kneeling before Onua. The Toa’s wound sealed shut with a wave of the Titan’s hand, and the Titan fixed his eyes upon Virndrung and Quad Roka as he helped Onua to his feet, supporting the Toa with one arm. “You said your name is Virndrung,” the Titan said, his voice a deep rumble. “That Stone Okotoan… what has happened to him?” “I would like to know that as well,” Jed said. “Quad Roka was left in command of Rollor’s Reach. Why is he here?” Not wanting to draw the ire of the Titan or the Knights, Virndrung spoke quickly and without hesitation. “His mind is gone. Destroyed, I think. A terrible fate, but… his mind is not the only one that was shattered.” “Give me that Staff,” the Titan said, gesturing to the Staff of Annona in Luroka’s hands. “With it, I can heal his mind.” “You can do that?” Luroka asked, seeming skeptical, and gesturing toward Quad Roka and Onua. “It is my understanding that it is much more difficult to create than it is to destroy.” “You are only an Okotoan,” the Titan said. “That Staff will never function for you as it will for me. It was gifted to aTitan, and crafted for a Titan. Only a Titan can truly wield its power with accuracy.” “I hope you are right,” Luroka murmured, handing the Staff over. The Titan accepted the Staff. It glowed as he pointed it at Onua, and the Toa seemed to straighten, re-energized. Appearing satisfied, the Titan made his way over to Virndrung and Quad Roka, kneeling before the Stone Protector. The Titan concentrated, cupping Quad Roka’s head with one hand, and resting the tip of the Staff between the Protector’s eyes. After a long moment he stepped back, looking even more satisfied. “There we are.” Quad Roka slowly sat up, gingerly touching his head. “Oh… wow. I… will never take the concept of moving my body for granted again.” He sounded weak, and looked it too, before he glanced up at the Titan. “Thank you.” Isniel approached them. The rest of his group followed, until along with Unit and Luroka, they were all standing in one of the strangest circles that Virndrung had ever been apart of. “Quad Roka, good to see you’re alright, but… what are you doing here? Last we knew you were keeping guard at Rollor’s Reach.” “Sahmad arrived,” Quad Roka said quietly, as Virndrung helped him to his feet. “We… got into an argument. Disagreed? He somehow teleported me out here, to the Barren. He… pointed out a direction for me to travel. Didn’t see any other options, so… I followed his advice. Ended up here. What were you doing underground?” Isniel glanced to the hole in the ground before clearing his throat and explaining: “Remember how Jed and I went to investigate the disturbances in the Barren? We stumbled onto a cave and Metus led us inside. We met this Dark Titan at its end, deep beneath Okoto,” he said, gesturing to the Dark Titan. “Missing a few details there, but fine,” Metus muttered. “We made conversation, and struck up a partnership of sorts,” Isniel continued. “To cooperate against an oncoming threat.” “That’s the gist of it, anyway,” Tex said. “What sort of future threat?” Luroka asked. “The war to come,” Isniel said. “The Great War.” “In that case, you have access to whatever resources I have available to prevent it,” Luroka said. “We were just heading back to Qendroj City, if you’d like to accompany us?” We? Virndrung thought. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’d be surprised if anyone else does after what you- “I’ll go with you, if that’s alright,” Quad Roka said. “I’d like to get my bearings back a little bit before returning to the Reach.” -never mind, then. “I need to go to Kamuk,” he said aloud. “Are the Knights also searching for the Torch of Ma? It might be in your interest to accompany to Kamuk if so.” “I’ll be returning to Aodhiim with General Unit for now,” Tex said, glancing to Unit and the Mask of Fire in his hands, and then to Isniel. “You’re welcome to join me.” “I will remain with the Kingslayer,” the Dark Titan said, standing with the Staff still in hand, staring down at it. “But this Staff… I would have one of you carry it for now. Only a Titan can truly wield it, but… I should not hold such temptation in my hand.” “May I take it?” Virndrung asked, unsure if it was wise to ask, but also not able to let an opportunity like this pass him by. “I will try not to misuse it, and I wish to pair it with the Torch of Ma.” “Whatever you do, don’t let anyone going with him take it,” Onua rasped, pointing at Luroka. “He shredded the minds of hundreds without a second thought.” “You left me no choice, Onua!” Luroka sharply replied. “I will take it back. It belongs in Qendroj City. As it stands, it shouldn’t have been used to begin with, so I’ll ask you all to keep silent on the matter.” Hypocrisy at its finest, Virndrung thought, wincing at Luroka’s suggestion after what the Earth Protector had done. “What powers does the Staff have anyway?” Isniel asked, no doubt trying to defuse the situation. “It is the source of all magic, with untold potential… and untold danger,” the Titan said, placing a hand on Onua’s shoulder to silence the Toa before levelling a glare at Luroka. “I think the Staff will not return with you. The Staff’s misuse was what drew me here in the first place. You have acted rashly with it.” “If Onua wishes it not to be near Luroka, I’ll again ask to take it to Kamuk,” Virndrung said. “I can head straight there, or wherever destiny says it needs to be.” “I wouldn’t trust Kamuk with it,” Tex said, looking worried. “I shudder to imagine what Vinheim might use it for. Heck, I’m not sure I’d trust Anuhea with it, either.” There goes that, then. “I think that it wasn’t a suggestion,” Luroka all but snarled, with a much sterner expression. “I will be taking the Staff back. I had no other recourse but to use it, despite the results. It belongs in Qendroj City, not with such another dangerous artifact as this Torch of Ma.” Isniel and Jed shared a glance, before the Jungle Protector made an offer of his own. “What about Rollor’s Reach, then? That’s one place not suggested yet. Objections? Jed? Tex? Anyone?” “I wouldn’t be opposed,” Luroka said, looking so reluctant that Virndrung doubted the truthfulness of his words. “I would trust the Knights with it… but the Staff belongs in Qendroj City.” “I have no objections,” Virndrung said. “The Reach is where the Mask Makers are most likely to go when they return,” Tex said. “If you take it with you, Isniel, I’d trust you.” “We’re headed to Rollor’s Reach anyway,” Isniel said, shrugging. “Best that we take it with us.” “It is decided, then,” the Titan said, handing the Staff to Isniel. “The best of luck to all of you on your journeys.” To Be Continued in Part II. -I've been working and adjusting to my new place (on top of moving), so I haven't had a whole lot of free time to write the episode, but here's Part I. It's a bit shorter than most parts just because I wanted to give you all something sooner rather than later; I'm hoping to have Part II finished for Monday. -Part II will feature POVs from Nato, Reyna, and Jakura for sure.

sums up my thoughts yes, 2011 is technically lackluster compared to the later years set-wise, but I think it's important to remember that 2011 was also the first appearance of the new build system, which I feel was more than exciting enough on its own.

Apologies for delays. I've been moving this week and such, so my priorities have been elsewhere. It'll be at least a few days before the episode is ready, but here's a short teaser with Efandril: - Efandril found Elittra waiting for her at the gate to Qendroj City. “Greetings,” she called, smiling warmly as she approached. Elittra didn’t return it. “You’ll want to see what I found in the vaults.” Efandril’s smile disappeared from her face, suddenly apprehensive as she took the final few steps forward to stand with Elittra. “You’re right on that. I do want to see. Show me.” Elittra led her into the city, where to her surprise, Efandril found an Earth Protector waiting for them – Garan Qendroj. Luroka’s second in command (or former second in command, now), who had been imprisoned during Nuhrii’s takeover. He looked exhausted. She turned a confused glance to Elittra. “Luroka’s lieutenant?” “I needed explanations,” Elittra explained. “He had them, in exchange for his… freedom.” “I see,” Efandril responded. “And what explanations did he have to offer?” Elittra didn’t respond, instead leading her down to the vaults. Garan followed, limping slightly, though Efandril put it out of her mind. She had always suspected that Elittra could be somewhat overzealous. So long as she didn’t know for certain, however, she didn’t need to intervene – which was helpful, since Elittra had yet to let her down. They arrived at the nearest of the vaults a few minutes later, and gesturing for the guards to step aside, Elittra led them in. Laying on a table in the center of the vault were two objects. The first, a Staff, was unremarkable beyond its rather ornate design. But the second… it was clearly the fragment of a mask, and Efandril could already feel the Dark Energy leaking out of it into the room.

congrats

I also vote toru Oh wait I'm dead You monsters

^

EPISODE 03 “Shadow of the Storm” (Part V) -The Barren- -Jed Corruich- IC: Jed, Tex, Isniel “I’ll take the lead from here,” Metus said as they all stepped out onto the Barren. “I… I know the way.” The Protector of Ice sounded hesitant, and nervous, as he led them into the wasteland. “You do?” Jed couldn’t help but ask, genuinely surprised. What secrets has Metus been hiding from us? “I haven’t been entirely truthful,” Metus admitted. “I… I know what lies beneath the Barren. Sahmad showed me.” “Sahmad?” “A Mask Maker,” Metus said. “He’s been working to try and delay or stop the Great War – as well as help Okoto to prepare for it.” “I see,” Jed replied, though he didn’t. “Why didn’t you let us know of him sooner? We would have been happy to work with him to prevent any further catastrophe.” “Because what you’re going to see, what you’re going to do…” Metus trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s going to go against everything you think you know.” At those ominous words, Jed fell silent, sharing a worried look with Tex. “That sounds… foreboding,” Isniel said slowly. “I mean, we might see whatever you’re describing anyway, right? In the Barren?” Metus ignored him. The ground beneath the group trembled as they approached what appeared to be some sort of cave. Metus reached into his pack and pulled out several white crystals, handing one to each member of the group and keeping one for himself. “Lightstones,” he said. “An invention of the Mask Makers. They’ll allow us to see beneath the surface.” “Thank you,” Isniel said, holding his own lightstone up against the darkness of the cave. “What could be resting in the depths?” “He’s a Titan,” Metus explained, leading the way into the cave, which seemed to stretch down deeper than it had any right to. “You’ve all read the lore by now. There were once six Titans on Okoto – Umarak, Kulta, Eankbut, Angonce, Heremus, and Annona. Kulta killed Eankbut, as well as Heremus, whose essence became the Elemental Creatures. Annona led the Mask Makers away to a new home long ago, and Angonce split his own essence into the six Toa. Umarak still lives.” “Wherever he is,” Tex murmured. “They weren’t the only Titans, however,” Metus continued. “They were the Titans of Light, given life by the goddess Ma… and Ata, the god of destruction… he created Titans of his own.” “I’m going to assume that this Titan, unlike the others, wishes to harm the island,” Isniel said. “As you might expect, the Dark Titans, being creations of Ata, at first wished only to destroy,” Metus explained, leading them further into the darkness. Only the lightstones lit their path now. “The Dark Energy that powered Kulta – that’s Ata, or at least, his essence. It corrupts everyone and everything it touches, if certain precautions-” he shook his lightstone “-aren’t taken. The Dark Titans were created with the Dark Energy.” “So where are they?” Tex asked. Metus frowned. “It… gets a bit fuzzy, here. Okoto has no records, or anything. It’s just what I’ve learned from Sahmad. But at some point, the Dark Titans turned against the Dark Energy. They decided that they would rather rule over life, instead of destroying it. Only one disagreed – their leader. So he struck out once more against Okoto.” “…and he was imprisoned down here,” Jed realized. “He was. The other Dark Titans turned on him, and with the help of the Okoto Titans, imprisoned him deep beneath the island,” Metus said. “The prison itself was built and locked using the magics of the Okoto Titans – but it has been weakening for the past twenty years. With five of them dead and the other gone, there’s nothing left to hold it together.” Now, Metus smiled. “I won’t pretend that he’s always kind. But… an eternity down here, by himself, must have changed his mind at least a little. If he finds Okoto worthy, he will help us in the Great War.” “Let’s hope he does,” Jed murmured. “So we’re going to see the Dark Titan leader himself?” Isniel asked. “How can he help us, anyway?” “What we’re going to be fighting is more powerful than the Titans ever will be,” Metus said. “We’re going to need all the power on our side that we can get.” “Well, I hope he’ll cooperate despite being sealed in this prion alone,” Isniel said, sounding worried. “Who knows how much his mind might have changed?” Jed hummed in agreement. “Let’s just pray that being down here for however long he has hasn’t driven him to madness.” Before them, the darkness felt like it was getting colder. More solid. Even with the lightstone in his hand, Jed could barely make out Metus and Isniel in front of him. And then…. “We’re here,” Metus breathed, stopping. “Last chance for anybody who wants to stay back.” After a short pause, Jed stepped forward. “I’m willing to meet him,” he said, turning to the two Knights bringing up the rear. “Both of you stay here. If we don’t return… warn Okoto.” Nodding to Metus, Tex, and Isniel, Jed stepped into the shadows, the others close behind. The darkness was so solid that he couldn’t see the others anymore. The chill seeped into his bones. The sound of his footsteps had become muffled, and the air was thick; it was quickly becoming a struggle to breathe. He could still feel the presence of the others, but even that was rapidly being drowned out with every step that he took. And then, before he had any hope of reacting, a dark presence surrounded him entirely. Two gleaming red eyes slowly opened in the shadows before him, but when the presence spoke, its voice echoed all around, a malevolent whisper in his ears. “I cannot decide,” it said, sounding contemplative, “whether it is bravery that has drawn you here without knowing who I am… or foolishness.” The presence fell silent for a long moment, seeming to mull over its next words. Jed tried to speak, but each attempt failed as he choked on the shadows. They now felt as thick as sludge. “I suppose it matters not. I am told that all records of me have been lost to time… and even if you knew who I was, what I am capable of… you would still be forced to confront me. It is your duty… and your destiny.” The darkness coiled around him, and Jed felt it beginning to gently squeeze, threatening to crush him into less than nothing in an instant. “I am of Ata, of the great darkness, made to destroy the world,” the presence continued. “I fought long ago to erase this island, to wipe it clean. Now, my prison breaks. Soon I will be free, to complete my task.” Now it felt as though the presence was leaning in, its voice rumbling directly into Jed’s ears, a great hand clenching at his skull. “Sahmad asks me to spare you all. He brings claims of a prophecy older than even myself, tidings of the Great War. He has tried to convince me that my efforts would be better spent helping you, guiding you in the war to come. To help you destroy that which has never been destroyed before.” Just as suddenly as it had surrounded him, the presence seemed to withdraw, until all that he could make of it were the two gleaming red eyes. “I care not,” it said, sounding tired. “I have spent an eternity in this cage. My rage has cooled, my loyalty has wavered. The great Ata would have me destroy you all… but I am willing to reconsider. So…” And then it was back, all around him, poised to strike. “Convince me.” Taking a deep breath, Jed slowly stepped forward. “Titan of Ata, my name is Jed Corruich. I am the Kingslayer, and Lord Commander for the Knights of Ekimu. I have lived for 52 years on Okoto. In my time I have seen the island change, and seen many threats to its peace. The greatest threat, I thought, was that of Kulta and the Faith of the Skulls. The fear I felt when I met her was the greatest I have ever felt. She seemed unstoppable; she convinced half the island to fight for her cause. It took the rest of us uniting together to stop her, and even then, we lost many good men. Close friends. Even in defeat, she threatened us, for we spiralled into a six year war which tore the island apart more than she ever had. I thought there was no being more powerful than her.” He felt a hand resting on his shoulder in solidarity – from Tex, no doubt. “I realize now that I was mistaken,” he continued. “the aura of darkness which you exude now is enough to prove this. I have no doubt that you could destroy this island single-handedly, and we would be powerless to stop you. But I must plead that you do not. We need your power, as Sahmad has surely explained. If what he says is true, whatever comes to destroy Okoto is more powerful even than you, and we cannot fight it on our own. We need your help.” He could feel the presence of the Titan. It was curious. “I do not know what you want,” Jed admitted. “I cannot see into you mind. But whatever it is, if you do not help us, you will never find it. There will not be an island to destroy or to rule, no island to live on in peace. But if you lend us your strength, and your powers, then maybe, just maybe, we can succeed against this enemy. And I promise to accommodate whatever it is that you wish if it is within my power.” “There is nothing that I want, nothing that I seek,” the presence said. “My name is all I have. You may call me Teridax.” “Well then… Teridax,” Isniel said slowly, from somewhere off to the right, “another threat is brewing and Okoto needs all the help it can get. Thousands of lives will be lost, and the whole island destroyed. Life might never flourish again. Will you not help your home island?” “My home is far from here,” Teridax said. “An island called Destral, home to the Dark Realms.” “Do you not want to be free, to return home?” Jed asked. “I will be free soon regardless,” the Dark Titan said. “But my home… no. My brethren turned against me. They were right to do so… but I do not know that there will be a place for me there. It has been too long.” He sounded almost… wistful. He does want something, Jed realized. He wants a home. He wants to belong. It doesn’t matter where. “I don’t know how the rest of Okoto will react,” he said, “but we can help you to belong.” The Titan laughed, and Jed could feel the cave walls rumbling with it. “I tried to destroy Okoto. Where could your people possibly allow me to call home?” “I’m sure that we can allow you to stay in Rollor’s Reach. If anybody would be willing to offer you a home, it would be us,” Jed promised. “The Knights study Okoto’s history, and act in the island’s defense. If you help us in the war to come, many will become more hospitable to you, and you would soon earn your place there.” “Rollor’s Reach… the city named for the highest of the divine gods,” Teridax mused. “Very well, Kingslayer.” The darkness pulled back, allowing Jed to see Metus, Tex and Isniel once more. Tex’s hand slid away from his shoulder as a figure as tall as Kulta and Umarak stepped into view. He wore a black mask with an ancient yet simple design. Highlights of bright red could be seen all along his gunmetal armor, which was of a simpler, rounder design than Jed was used to. The Titan held a long staff with two blades at its end in one hand. “Thank you for deciding to help us, Teridax,” Jed said, inclining his head respectfully before turning to the others. “We should head back to the Reach as soon as possible. Who knows what may have happened while we’ve been away?” “Follow me,” Teridax said. “There has been a battle atop the Barren. We will stop there first.” -The North- -Nato Greavesey- IC: Nato, Krosht, ShadowVezon- As they travelled through the North, they found themselves slowly approaching one of the storms that had become infamous as of late. They were large, monstrous things, locking away massive areas of land at any given time. First the temperature began to drop, so low that even to Nato, Kazi and Krosht, the air felt frigid. Then the winds began to pick up, and the snow began to blow, until Nato found his vision so obscured that he could scarcely make out the form of Dekar three feet in front of him. He could hear thunder rumbling ominously overhead, and lightning flashed in the distance. Fragments of hail – and then stone – joined the snow, and the air seemed to crackle around them. The further into the storm they got, the more frightened Dekar seemed, as he nervously fidgeted with a transparent crystal in his hands. Both Hahli and ShadowVezon spared their guide worried glances, but said nothing. Then, with the next flash of lightning, Nato spotted a shadowy shape up ahead. It was headed right for them. Krosht stepped in front of him, grabbing Dekar’s shoulder and gripping tight in an attempt to stop the group as he spoke to Nato: “My lord… this is dangerous.” He paused as there was an audible crunch from his foot hitting the snow – and when the Ice Protector lifted his foot up, it revealed the caved-in chest of a long-dead Protector. “…very dangerous,” Krosht added. “That’s never stopped me before,” Nato declared, stepping around his Diplomat and trying to avoid any other corpses. Yelling, he directed his next words to the shadowy form: “Who goes there?” His voice was sucked away by the wind. He could have sworn that he heard something call back to him, but the wind swept away whatever they said too. Hahli cursed, shivering beside him. “This place is a graveyard.” Despite the lack of visibility, it quickly became clear that she was correct. One frozen corpse seemed to lead to another. Some were scorched, some ripped apart, and some had no signs of any injuries at all. “My lord, I do not wish to see you hurt by whatever this beast is,” Krosht yelled, his voice now hardly carrying over the storm. “But I will trust your judgement!” “Has this always been here?” Nato asked. After all the explorations, all the wars… how has a mass grave like this gone unnoticed for so long? Keeping an eye out for the shadowy shape, he addressed Dekar. “Explain yourself! What is this?! What do you know?” Dekar answered, but Nato heard nothing over the storm. Seeming frustrated and scared, Dekar made his way over to him to speak directly into Nato’s ear: “Protectors travel all the time – and they go missing all the time. You would notice if your commander vanished, or the ruler of a city… but a small-time merchant? The homeless, or some travelling orphan? It’s not your fault that you don’t notice… but sometimes, Protectors are foolhardy, more than they should be. Too curious. They act before they think. The storm should have scared them off… but they did not let it.” Dekar leaned back, shouting now so that the others, who had all crowded around, could hear. “I’ve called for Protection, should you wish to continue… but I will beg you to turn back.” “Protection? From who? And can it even protect us from whatever is causing this storm?” Krosht asked, eyeing the various desecrated corpses with unease. “Burnt, and yet… the storm is ice. What is this?!” “It’s killing our people, whatever it is,” Nato said, drawing his cryosteel blade. “Retreat if you must. I won’t hold it against any of you… but I need to see, to understand. I need to know what we’re up against.” “I’m with you until the end of the line,” Kazi promised, and Hahli nodded next to him. Krosht nodded as well. “I am with you, my lord.” ShadowVezon shuddered, rubbing his arms in a futile attempt to re-gain some warmth. “I shall stay too.” “Then you’re a braver man than I first thought,” Nato said to the former King, before directing a grateful smile to his remaining companions. “Thank you for your loyalty. Now… let’s find out what Dekar’s promised ‘explanation’ truly is.” With that, Nato pressed forward into the snowstorm, advancing cautiously toward where he had last seen the shadowy figure. The storm grew worse as he approached them, and they in turn approached him. As he drew near, the figure seemed to shrink, until it was clear that they were no taller than the average Protector. Lightning spiked into the snow only a dozen feet away, scorching the ground. In the brief flash, Nato recognized the rusted navy armor of Sahmad. “My lord… is that…?” Krosht trailed off. “He’s my protection,” Dekar said. “Or rather, ours.” Krosht stared at the Stone Protector. “So he is not the one causing this storm?” “No,” Dekar said. “He has a powerful ally who has loaned him their power as of late, but a storm like this is still far beyond him.” That explains how Sahmad has been appearing all over Okoto so frequently, Nato thought. He clutched his sword with numb fingers, choosing to remain silent for now. He was starting to like this situation less and less. Lightning in a snowstorm… Sahmad appearing out of nowhere…. For a moment, Nato briefly considered the possibility that this could be an elaborate trap, but quickly cast the thought aside. It would have been far easier for Dekar and ShadowVezon to kill him in Rollor’s Reach. He must be telling the truth, he decided, albeit reluctantly. He could feel his blood boiling at the thought of Sahmad, but now was not the time to strike out recklessly. There was still too much he didn’t know – about Sahmad, about the storm…. If Dekar continues talking and Sahmad loves the sound of his own voice as much as I think he does, perhaps one of them will give something away. Something we can use against them. Krosht glanced over to him. “My lord?” “I’ll play along for now.” “Understood, sir.” Sahmad stopped a few steps away from him. The Mask Maker rested one hand on the hilt of a sword at his hip, but made no move to draw it; he waved the other, and around them, the sound of the storm disappeared. “You’ve seen the bodies,” Sahmad said. “Travel in the North has been the lowest in history with the quarantine in place… and still, dozens of your people are finding their way here and dying. You aren’t going to like what you find, and it isn’t going to make you like me any more than you do now.” Sahmad glanced over his shoulder and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Last chance, Traveler. Spare yourself. I can’t promise that we’ll all make it back alive.” “Funny,” Nato said, tightening his grip on his sword. “I was about to say the same thing. Let’s go.” Sahmad turned away from him fully now, staring deeper into the storm. The Mask Maker’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, and his head bowed; his eyes remained closed. Nato watched as Sahmad took another deep, shuddering breath, before shakily releasing it. The Mask Maker’s fingers flexed around his sword’s hilt before he slowly drew it, holding it out before him. He took a hesitant step forward, and as he did, the sound of the storm rushed back. Tempting as it was to plunge his own cryosteel blade into Sahmad’s spine while the Mask Maker’s back was turned, Nato stayed his blade, and followed him. On either side of him, the others did the same. - As they pushed further into the storm, it became more dangerous. Nato found himself saved from a blast of lightning at the last second by Sahmad’s reflexes alone, and less than a minute later the Mask Maker did the same for ShadowVezon, saving the former King from what Nato could only guess was a giant boulder. Nato watched as the energy shields that Sahmad had created flickered and died. The next lightning blast spiked down right between Dekar and Kazi. Dekar was fast enough to dive away, but Kazi was within the blast radius, and Nato flinched as Kazi was violently thrown into Krosht. Sahmad cursed, turning toward them, but was too slow to stop the third blast. They all watched the third blast of lightning strike a tree behind Hahli – and watched as the massive, flaming tree collapsed, impaling the Protector of Water from behind. “He knows we’re here,” Sahmad said, staring at Hahli’s corpse with a look of resignation. “He’s… he’s near.” “Who is near?” Krosht asked, grunting as he helped Kazi to his feet. “Stay close to Sahmad!” Nato yelled, before turning and snarling, “who?!” Sahmad either didn’t hear him or ignored him, leading them to the top of a ridge, one that Nato knew overlooked a valley somewhere north of Grave’s Peak. As they reached the top of the ridge, the storm seemed to suddenly die off. They were in its heart; the eye of the storm. Nato looked down to the valley, and in its center, he saw a massive emerald lump. If he had to judge its size, he would have said it looked to be the size of a castle – at least as large as the Citadel in Rollor’s Reach. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the details. It seemed almost… scaly, and metallic, by the way the light of the lightning reflected off it. One large swathe of the object, however, seemed to be more reminiscent of translucent leather, and he also noticed a long line of spikes sticking straight into the sky. “What is it?” Krosht breathed. As Nato stared, the object appeared to expand and contract… almost as if it were breathing. He turned to Sahmad. “We came all this way… Hahli gave her life… for that?” he hissed. “Start explaining!” No The word literally boomed inside his mind, sending Nato reeling as a wave of pain slammed into his mind. Both Dekar and Kazi crashed down to their knees, though the rest of them managed to keep their footing despite the mental assault. We had an ARRANGEMENT. I give you five years, SAHMAD. In return, I am not DISTURBED. Next to Nato, Krosht clutched at his head, groaning in pain. “What… is… this?!” the Diplomat hissed, staring down at the pulsing green mass in the valley. Grimacing, Sahmad waved his free hand toward them, and Nato felt the pain recede, becoming a dull ache. “They… needed… proof,” Sahmad spat toward the valley, the words sounding labored. “Proof… of the threat that they face!” “An arrangement?!” Nato’s vision went red, his pain feeding directly into his rage, and ignoring Sahmad’s words he struck out with his blade, slashing at the back of the Mask Maker’s legs. “Enough of your lies and your secrets! TALK!” Dekar drew his sword and dove to block Nato’s attack but, clearly still dazed from the mental beating, the Stone Protector mis-judged. Nato’s sword slashed across Dekar’s stomach, and the Stone Protector collapsed onto the snow, coughing up blood and bleeding out quickly. PROOF? Down in the valley, the emerald lump began to shift. What was now clearly a tail slowly unravelled, and two powerful legs stomped the ground, causing the ridge to tremble underneath them. Two massive wings stretched out and unfurled, and an angular head, covering in bone-like spikes, swiveled to face them. Krosht, Kazi and ShadowVezon stared in awed terror at the mighty beast. Kazi fell back to his knees, and Krosht stumbled back a step. Nato, however, awestruck though he was, remained focused in on Sahmad, his rage all-consuming. “The only threat I face is you, Sahmad!” He spat. “Spreading plagues and lies, usurping leaders, replacing them with traitors of your own choosing, hiding vital truths-” he pointed toward the wyvern with his free hand. “You should have told me from the start! Let me help you! But no! You chose to make me your enemy!” By the end his voice had risen to a yell, and Sahmad staggered, sounding hoarse and ragged when he spoke, pointing at the massive wyvern himself. “I am all that stands between that and you! You have no idea what is coming, and do not lie, you would never have believed me! But perhaps you’ll believe me now!” Insects. The word was once more spoken into all of their minds, no doubt by the wyvern. Your eternal squabbles are pathetic. You have disturbed my silence. “My lord, your rage is justified,” Krosht said, placing a hand on Nato’s shoulder as he shuddered with terror. “But that beast is more pressing. We can deal with Sahmad later!” Nato shrugged him off. “I learned a long time ago that one man standing alone is never enough,” he said to Sahmad. “You Mask Makers are all the same! For all your years of life, all your successes and failures, all your power and knowledge, you never learn! Your era ended long ago! Your ways don’t work anymore! It’s our time now!” He plunged his sword toward Sahmad’s chest. The Mask Maker swung his own sword to deflect the attack, but still stumbled back, retreating toward the edge of the ridge. In the distance, the wyvern slowly approached, seeming almost cat-like in how it prowled toward them. Someone whimpered. “My lord, I urge you, please,” Krosht said, his voice fallen to a hushed whisper. “We’re not safe!” “If we let him live, if we let him leave, he’ll just come back and make things worse,” Nato snarled. “I failed to stop Voxumo, I failed to stop Kulta – I refuse to fail again!” Concentrating with all of his will, strengthened by his adrenaline and his rage, Nato unleashed a blast of ice at the Mask Maker using the power of his cryosteel blade. A wave of fire from Sahmad’s free hand counteracted the attack, though the pressure on everyone’s mind increased back to migraine levels as he did so. Nato grunted, ignoring the pain as he stepped forward, even as Sahmad stumbled back another few steps, until the Mask Maker was standing on the very edge of the ridge. The snow was beginning to swirl around them again, the wind whipping at them. Lightning stabbed down from the sky all around them, and the wyvern prowled ever closer, its eyes fixed upon them all. Krosht groaned, involuntarily grabbing Nato’s shoulder and gripping it tightly, trying to pull him back. “M-my lord. He has wronged us… but I do not think he is lying. About holding the beast back.” The words pierced through his rage, and Nato blinked through the haze of pain and rage. ShadowVezon had fallen to one knee, panting, and Kazi was huddled in the snow, clutching at his head, mumbling under his breath, a maddened look in his eyes. “Please reconsider,” Krosht begged. He hesitated, his eyes finding Dekar’s corpse, before turning to his sword, and he stared at the Stone Protector’s blood as it dripped from the blade. Here I am berating Sahmad for ignoring others and working to fulfil his will alone… all while I’m doing the same thing, he realized, filled with a sickened sense of horror as his sword slowly fell to his side, his eyes meeting Dekar’s vacant gaze, before he shook his head, his iron will hardening. No, no. Lesser evil he might be, but Sahmad is still evil. “You lost one of yours, I lost one of mine,” he said, wavering in place, and blinking away tears as the pain in his head rose to a crescendo. “Let’s call it even.” Sahmad’s sword fell from his hand, tumbling over the edge behind him. The Mask Maker sunk to his hands and knees in the bloodied snow, his breathing ragged, as the pressure on their minds once again receded. ShadowVezon shuddered, and Kazi stilled, but still the wyvern prowled closer. I am altering the deal, the voice, ancient and more powerful than anything he had ever heard before, spoke again. These insects know nothing. They are weak, power hungry, and self-absorbed. They will not unite to save themselves. Five years no more. “Unite us?! This weasel was doing everything he could to keep us divided!” Nato shouted to the beast, laughing, the sound echoing around them, half-mad. “He told us nothing, poisoned us against each other, with plagues and lies!” What do you know of uniting? The voice asked, the question rolling around in his mind, over and over and over. Every action you have taken has driven your island further apart. You know less of unity than even Sahmad. Despite its words, the voice was almost disturbingly emotionless, and Nato had the terrible sense that it deigned to speak to him out of idle curiosity and boredom – nothing more. “There’s no unity to be found in blindly accepting one man as a self-proclaimed messiah,” Nato declared, ignoring Krosht’s resigned mutterings as he gestured to Sahmad. “Unlike him, I don’t pretend to know better than everyone else, so I’ll be frank with you. I don’t understand what’s going on, or what you are, or why Sahmad did what he did. I was told that if I came here, I would find an explanation – but so far all I’ve gotten is belittlement and insults. You entities are all the same – you speak to us with riddles and ridicule, and then demean us for not understanding your cryptic instructions! If you want something, speak plainly!” You wish for me to speak plainly? Very well. The wyvern prowled closer, the ground underneath them shaking with every step it took, and Sahmad screamed as he threw one hand to the sky, an energy shield forming around the ridge just in time to deflect no less than seven lightning strikes. ShadowVezon crawled over, supporting the Mask Maker. My kind were created to restore order, the wyvern said, each word pounded into their minds like a hammer, punctuated with a new blast of lightning. Always, the universe fails. It falls into anarchy, and chaos. We wipe the slate clean. We destroy it all, so that the gods might begin again. It was close enough, now, that its head loomed over them. Its shadow caused the entire ridge to become as dark as night. This iteration has reached its end. It is time for a new dawn. This Mask Maker thought to save it, by proving your island could unite under a common cause. But I grow tired and weary of allowing him to play his games, and my brethren tire of your other Mask Makers and their tricks. Distantly, Nato realized that the other Mask Makers it spoke of must be Voltex and Ekimu. It is time to wipe the slate clean, it repeated. My brethren will join me here soon. Until then, know that it is Baranus, Scourge of the Skies, who shall return you to order. “Your arrangement with Sahmad… you gave him five years?” Nato shouted, his thoughts racing as fast as they could amid the pain crashing over and over in his mind. “I ask for five days! Five days to undo the damage Sahmad caused! Five days to bury the past, to unite Okoto! I think not. The prelude has ended. Goodbye. The wyvern – Baranus – opened its mouth, and he could see down its throat, which was glowing orange, brighter and brighter – until a stream of fire shot down toward the ridge. Sahmad let out another raged scream as the fire hit the shield around them and surrounded it, the flames coiling, flickering in place, as the temperature began to rise, and the snow on the ridge began to steam. Barely able to even think, Nato blindly plunged his sword into the ground at his feet, willing the cryosteel to expand and reshape the frozen water in the earth, widening the cracks, weakening the foundation…. His sword crumbled apart in his hands under the strain, and then the ridge collapsed under them all, and they plunged down into the shadows. End of Episode 03. Let's not waste any time. EPISODE 04: OF GODS AND MEN BEGINS NOW!!!