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All the old lights


Sordin

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The forge was one of the oldest places in the village, the ta-matoran who once worked it had been the best at their jobs for kio around and the village had grown around them meaning that the forge was in the centre of the entire place. Of course there were better forges now and so the old centre of the village had been left alone for a long time, used only as a place for storage or some peace and quiet. However a Toa had taken up residence there recently, he was old, mysterious and barely interacted with the matoran at all only leaving to deal with the villages occasional problems and even then he worked by night. However regardless of his odd behaviour he was a Toa and so when the matoran pushed his way into the old forge he did so without fear.

 

There was a small lightstone sitting on the rim of a work table, it barely illuminated the place but gave the darkness enough texture to see the piles of masks and tools lying around, opposite the door there was bulk of the Toa sitting on a large rock pushed against one wall. The Toa's eyes glowed faintly; he looked half asleep. The old pipes around the room had been cut ages ago for materials but the stubs that remained still carried the sounds of the outside world and the matoran realised that if one listened hard enough you could hear quite a lot of what was going on in the village. He stepped forward towards the lightstone and addressed the toa.

“Toa I have a question for you.”

 

The glow of the eyes increased in brightness slightly and the toa leaned forward the light showing off the contours of his mask which the matoran realised was heavily damaged down one side. It's voice was old but kind enough though it gave the impression he had just awoke.

“ Are the no scholars? No ga-matoran who may answer your questions?”

 

“There are indeed toa but I feel that these are questions you could better answer.”

 

The Toa leaned back and as it did so a mask fragment fell from a high shelf landing on the Toa's right shoulder. As he reached up to remove it the matoran almost gasped as he noticed the Toa's entire left arm was scratched and rent in the same way as his mask, noticing the matoran's dismay the Toa spoke again.

 

“That is the result of a fight with a Keelerak little one.” The Toa shifted his position seeming to have woken up somewhat. “But come, what questions do you have for me. And let us walk as we discuss these matters, I feel I have been sitting far too long.”

 

The Toa raised himself to his full and rather impressive height and with the matoran following stepped out into the fresh air of the village. Seen in the daylight the Toa was an interesting spectacle , his armour was a deep umber with neat white segments on his arms and torso, the acid burns covered most of his left side although they did not seem to hamper his movement, a pair of curved swords rested on his back and his mask was one the matoran did not recognise, the colours on the other hand he did. “Are you a Toa of Plasma then?”

 

The Toa nodded his head rather than responding verbally, they were strolling through a quiet corner of the village towards a cliff of brown stone that marked the boundary of a jungle. “Now then what were these questions you seemed eager to ask?” When the matoran did not say anything for a while the Toa spoke again “Or perhaps you did not have questions and instead were talking to me for a rather foolish bet?” The matoran nodded glumly and stared at his feet however the Toa let out a hearty laugh. “Do not be so disheartened! What would we be without foolish bets, I've suffered worse than a stern look from a Toa in my time. Now then I feel we should take a walk in the jungle.

 

By this point they had come to where the village bordered the cliff, the Toa removed one of the swords from his back and aimed it at the soft earthy rock of the cliff, there was a beam of orange light and the faint hiss of plasma.

 

When the matoran looked again he saw that a crude stairway had been carved up the cliff leading into the thick jungle, the Toa was already halfway up it, hopping nimbly from step to step and soon the matoran was following him until they had reached the top of the cliff and were standing side by side staring down at the village, the Toa stretched again and took and few deep breaths before declaring. “I think it's high time I had an adventure, meet me here again when you are ready.” And with that the tower sat with his back to a tree and watched as the matoran charged back to the village to pack.

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Drinks moons, devours suns. Twirls his thumbs 'till the reaper comes.

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