Ghosthands

IC (Korero) [Cael's Hut, Ga-Koro] Korero's eyes widened briefly as the door was opened not by Cael but by an unfamiliar Ta-Toa, but his surprise waned just as quickly when he glanced past her and recognised the faces of not just Cael but also Agni, whom he knew as another close associate of Joske. There was fourth Toa in the room whose appearance seemed to ring a vague bell, but he couldn't place it (and had more pressing concerns on his mind). He'd barely opened his mouth to ask about Leah's whereabouts when Agni, ever the detective, successfully pre-empted his question. Korero looked to Cael and this 'Praggos' (the name rang a bell too) in impatient anticipation of their answer. OOC: @Eyru @otter @Vezok's Friend @Palm

IC (Korero) [Cael's Hut, Ga-Koro] The quiet conversation of Cael's hut was rudely interrupted by an urgent knocking (hammering might be a more accurate term) at the door. Outside waited a decidedly jumpy-looking Toa Maru of Air, shifting his weight from the ball of one foot to the other in tiny rapid movements, in a futile attempt to diffuse away some of the nervous energy currently coursing through his limbs as he waited for someone to answer. OOC: @Eyru @Vezok's Friend @Palm @otter

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] "Hey now," the pirate replied, furrowing his brow and raising his palms in a gesture of restraint. "Let's not be too hasty. As I see it, there's no need to be dismissin' heroics entirely. The trick is to believe in, shall we say...the heroism of self-interest." As he spoke, Lohkar sidled around to Tailua's side and wrapped an arm chummily around the Toa's shoulders, casting his other hand towards an imagined horizon with the air of a visionary. One could almost hear the swell of triumphant music. "Goin' where ya choose, doin' as ya please, and thumbin' yer nose at anybody who thinks they can stop ya. Once you look at things that way, there's all sorts o' noble adventurin' to be had, wherever the winds take ya." He bumped a conspiratorial fist against Tailua's shoulder. "Freedom, mate. That's real heroism." He grinned, blue eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a man who knew the true meaning of life. "An' I should know. I'm somethin' of a hero myself." OOC: @Emzee@BULiK @Void Emissary

IC (Broker NPC: Rhuvok) [Burning Steppes Outskirts] "And I intend to make sure it gets done properly, Adaan" the Raven retorted, not giving her the courtesy of shifting his gaze from the tomb entrance. "The Broker may have forgiven your antics at Katha;Vaa, but he has not forgotten them, and neither have I. The fact that you are on the payroll this time does not mean you have my trust."

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] "Nastiest shitheap on the Endless Ocean," Lohkar replied, then glanced to the hulking form of Frii'Glokk with a not-particularly-apologetic smile. "No offence." Back to Tailua. "Home o' the spiny bugg— ahem, the delightful Skakdi people. But more importantly, it's a place teemin' with opportunity for people like you an' me. If you're wonderin' why you've never heard of it, well...let's just say memory's a funny thing, eh?" OOC: @Emzee@BULiK @Void Emissary

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] There was a hint of disappointment in Lohkar's eyes as Tailua removed his weaponised prosthetic. He'd been half-hoping the Toa would offer him it to shake, giving him the opportunity to, shall we say, temporarily relieve the man of his gun-hand and have a little fun. But whether out of an abundance of caution or simply politeness, Tailua had not acted so gullibly. Well, if your excuse for messing with potential recruits was that you were "testing them", you couldn't really act hard-done-by if they passed the test, could you? Lohkar reached forward and gave the stump a hearty shake. His grin widened as Tailua spoke; he always appreciated a little flattery. "Sailin' for Zakaz waters, my friend. Headin' back where I belong. Not to mention far away from whatever gang o' miscreants are after your blood," he added, raising an eyebrow. "Seems likely we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, eh?" OOC: @Emzee @Void Emissary @BULiK

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] "Hey, if you're not gettin' jumped by the occasional gang of anonymous killers, you're doin' something wrong." The voice came from Tailua's blind spot. Lohkar swaggered into view a moment later. "Assassination attempts are the spice o' life, that's what I always say." The Lesterin extended a hand — his right hand, apparently in an attempt to shake Tailua's Patero attachment by way of greeting. "Lohkar," he introduced himself, "Cap'n of the Infernavika. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Kodin." OOC: @Emzee @Void Emissary @BULiK

IC (NPC Broker henchman) [The Place] The henchman paused and looked over his shoulder, squinting at Enra. "Long as she doesn't make any trouble." He resumed his slow walk towards the convoy, raising his voice to be heard despite having turned his back. "Now hurry it up. You don't wanna keep him waiting." OOC: And my apologies for keeping you two waiting, @Smudge8 and @Toru Nui. It's been a crazy few months. I'll try to keep things moving going forward.

IC (Broker NPCs) [Burning Steppes Outskirts] "Expert in breaking and entering, maybe." These snide words and the dull jangle of metal rings announced the approach of another of the more specialist members of the Broker's expedition: a gaunt Fe-Skakdi, cloaked in black Nakihl robes adorned with a wide collar of similarly sable corvine feathers. He carried a staff of what looked like driftwood (jabbing it into the ash-coated ground as he walked, but not seeming to need it for support), its upper half pierced in many places by metal rings or hoops of varying sizes: some as wide as a splayed hand, some small enough to be worn on a finger. Each one was engraved with lines and runes that, to a trained eye, encapsulated a variety of spells. Further such rings hung from his robes in places, together making up a motley metallic assortment that clinked against each other as he moved. "But I think you'll find that I am the Broker's expert in matters of artefacts, magicks, and history," he continued, clearly making no effort to keep disdain from his voice. "And make no mistake, I shall be representing his interests in these areas." This was Rhuvok, the Raven: a Nakihl the Broker kept on retainer as his personal specialist in the occult. Rhuvok had long ago forsaken the community of the northern Fortress to pick over and assess the more esoteric items acquired from the Broker's nefarious activities. It was a small price to pay for the generous research resources that came his way (provided that his work regularly produced results that could be turned to his employer's profit), and distance from the bickering and backstabbing of his peers was frankly a plus. He looked around at the gathered beings, green eyes alighting on each of them with varying degrees of distrust or disdain. Only Kihr received a respectful nod. "My...esteemed colleague may be leading this expedition," he sneered, gesturing in Kalzok's direction, "but as you all know, the Broker is funding it." The Raven's voice was made even more like the caw of his namesake by the ash-choked air in his throat. "The equipment and personnel he is providing represent a significant investment, and as such, he expects a full return." He glared particularly at the more mercenary members of the group. "As per your contracts, you will be paid well for your efforts. As per Kalzok's contract, the Broker will receive all finds. Every item worth recovering goes back to the Warrens, where I will assess their value personally. You will take no spoils, no souvenirs, nothing. I'm sure I don't have to warn you of the dangers of incurring our employer's displeasure." He turned his beady green eyes back to Aden. "To answer your question, the outbuildings have long been exposed to the ravages of wind and flame. But I have already personally inspected the entrance to the tomb itself, and I believe it remains fully sealed and intact. Provided that we can open it without causing any unnecessary damage, the archives within should be perfectly preserved." He gazed back towards the bare hill with hungry eyes. Set into the hillside was a monolithic doorway: a trapezoid of sandstone, sides sloping smoothly upwards, its surface blackened and blasted by the fires of the Steppes, but unbroken by them. Like the walls of some of the ruined outbuildings scattered around, its surface glinted blue and gold in places where the layer of soot coating it had been brushed away, revealing reliefs of crystal inlaid into the rock, filigreed with precious metals, carved with intricate patterns and lettering. It was a sight both tantalising and foreboding, an austere monument to the pride of the ancient Lesterin, rising from the ash that had once hidden it, no longer guarded so jealously by the inferno that still filled the sky beyond with smoke. This forgotten repository, both library and grave, lay waiting for them. OOC: @a goose @NorikSigma @BULiK @Rahisaurus @BBBBalta

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] "Home calls us all in the end, eh?" the pirate replied with a sympathetic wink. "I'll be hopin' to stop off at the old rock-in-the-sea meself, but our ability to do so may depend on the...ah...diplomatic situation." By which he meant, whether there were still wanted posters of his grinning mug plastered all over the Port. "At the very least, we'll get ya to safe harbour on the mainland. Shouldn't be more than a short ferry hop to get ya the rest of the way." At that moment, a faint sound of breaking glass — of a different timbre to the usual shatter of drinking utensils heard around the Dancing Crab, more like, say, the sound of a Toa making his way bodily through a window — caught Lohkar's attention from elsewhere in the tavern. He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in interest, before looking back to the two men who were now confirmed as passengers rather than prospective crew (and thus profitable, but no longer of much interest to the freewheeling Lesterin). "Well, gents, I shall leave you in the capable hands of me subordinates," he said, waving a hand in the general direction of the various Infernavika crew present (mainly Yasurek — he'd be happy to deal with all the boring details, right?). "They'll be 'appy to discuss all the details with ya. But as long as you can pay our modest fee, rest assured we'll get ya ta Zakaz. Just make sure you're aboard before we cast off!" With that, he flicked them a casual salute and moseyed over towards where Gunner was already intercepting a somewhat hurried-looking red-armoured Toa who, based on his somewhat haggard breathing and the flecks of glass still dusting his sizeable shoulders, was most likely the same being who had made the audible window entry (re-fenestrated? Pre-fenestrated? He'd have to look that one up.). His ever-reliable gut told him this should be a fun one. OOC: @BULiK @ARROW404 @Emzee @Void Emissary

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] "Not to worry, mate," Lohkar assured the armoured Skakdi in chummy tones, entirely unfazed in the presence of a man whose build would be best described as somewhere between 'tank' and 'battleship'. "We'll get ya home safe an' sound, an' in comfort to boot." He turned to his fellow Ga-Lesterin. "An' what can I do for you?" OOC: @BULiK @ARROW404

IC (Lohkar) [The Dancing Crab, Ostia] A pair of blue hands clapped down on the shoulders of Suran and Frii'Glokk, eliciting dull clangs from their respective pauldrons. The spikily crested head of their Lesterin owner was thrust forward between said shoulders a moment later. "Somethin' tells me you fine gentlemen might be lookin' for my humble self." Entirely unconcerned by any reactions of surprise that his sudden interjection might've elicited from the pair, Lohkar looked from one to the other with his usual winning smile. "How might I help two fellow natives o' the greater Zakazian area?" OOC: @ARROW404 @BULiK Sorry for the delay, once again. Life keeps throwing its curveballs...

Yep, no need to worry. Characters moving between any two Mata Nui topics is absolutely fine; in-universe they may be passing through other Wahi, but there's no need to write those parts of the journey if you don't want to.

IC (Ageru Kilanya) [Fort Kizuno, Odaiba] By rights, a mighty tree anchored by deep-sunk roots should have been immovable to the strength of a girl. But even intruded upon by two far more powerful presences, one benign and one decidedly otherwise, this mindspace was still Shiki's, and it was her will that defined its rules. The gnarled bark shuddered momentarily against her touch, then shifted. The earth split and crumbled as the willow's roots were tugged upward, their pale brown limbs beginning to peek through the loam. The tree creaked and swayed in protest; the eyes of Kilanya's avatar widened as she felt a challenge to the grip of her Will — not from the Shadow, but from the girl. Then confusion gave way to clarity. Of course. The link. It's using the link. The willow's hold on the earth loosened. Shiki's push stayed firm. The tree moved further upwards, shaking soil from its roots as they were torn one by one from the hillside, until— Tree and lake and hill and Shadow were gone. Kilanya's eyes snapped open, and were greeted with the same sun-drenched clearing her mind had departed mere moments (minutes? seconds? the passage of time was hard to gauge in such spaces) ago. The air was calm, bearing only the sounds of her training soldiers and the faint rustle of wind in the trees. All, it seemed, was as they'd left it. She looked across at Shiki: eyes still closed, face still taut with the desperate concentration it had taken to break the link between their minds, and with it, the backdoor that had let the dark presence in. Getting back to her feet, the Toroshu reached out with one hand to squeeze the girl's shoulder. "Well done," she whispered. Well indeed. Kilanya marvelled for a moment at how quickly the girl had realised the nature of the intrusion — more quickly than she herself — and how bravely she had mustered her will to stop it. Her instinct had been right: there was more potential to this seemingly laggard student than met the eye. But this wasn't over yet. The psychic link was no more, but an intrusion of such power could not help but leave a ripple on the mental plane, a broken thread she could trace back to its source. Her gaze was drawn across the grass to the trees at the clearing's edge, to the darkness of their branches...where she found shapes. Lithe, sharp-edged, spiked and spined. A hint of purple amid the dappled shadows. A glow of serpentine eyes, fixed on her. The attention of every Dasaka in the training ground, no matter how deep in meditation or locked in sparring, was seized by their commander's bellow. "RAHKSHI!"

IC (Ageru Kilanya) [Fort Kizuno, Odaiba] Kilanya's eyes tarried on the lake just long enough for Shiki to see before their gazes met once more. The Toroshu nodded, letting the glowing wireframe of her Soulsword dissolve away again and raising one hand to rub pensively at her chin. :Not the only reason, but perhaps an important one,: she mused. :The clarity of the memory gives it strength...but I sense these memories carry great emotion for you. Your emotions can grant strength as well, but only if you are their master. If they are too turbulent, that may affect the flow of your Soul. This may explain why you've struggled to draw on your energy. I would recommend—: Kilanya was interrupted by a distant peal of thunder. The rustle of the willow leaves overhead began to grow: the wind had changed, blowing colder and stronger now from the far-off mountains. Kilanya's brow furrowed as she turned her head to look back over her shoulder, towards the origin of the thunder and the wind. Dark clouds were spreading across the sky like ink spilled on paper, gradually blotting out the blue with black. This was a manifestation of neither her nor Shiki. This was the presence of another. She felt it in the air, in the ground, in the sky. But that was impossible. She'd sensed no intrusion, there had been no battle of Wills. To invade their mental link undetected would require unimaginable skill and power— :::Ageru.::: The Toroshu's avatar physically recoiled at the strength of the voice. The dark clouds were now overhead, casting lake and hill and tree in shadow, and the voice seemed to emanate from every inch of that darkness, from cloud to mountaintop to the ground beneath their feet. :::Kilanya.::: The voice sounded female, but its undertones rumbled deeper than the roots of the earth. In all her years as a Menti, Kilanya had never felt a mental presence of such power. The very sound of its voice within their heads was overwhelming: though calmly spoken the words seemed deafening, brimming with puissance. This Will was not assaulting hers; it didn't need to. It was like a Kanohi Dragon gazing on an insect, languid, lounging, utterly secure in its power to crush that which lay before it at a whim. Even in this mental form, Kilanya's limbs felt frozen by fear. She fought to rise to her feet and place her avatar between Shiki and the presence, to defend the girl...but there was nowhere to interpose herself. How could she shield against the sky, the air, the earth? :::It's time we spoke, O Rakumetsu Toroshu.::: The voice bubbled with mockery. :::Time you became useful.::: OOC: @Razgriz