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Bzprpg - Po-Wahi


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OOC: The plot regarding Zieta's Toa team and the Po-Koro guard has been cut back to this post.

 

IC: Tayis

 

Tayis was a little humiliated at the spectacle that had been made. Now tagging along with the guards to be taken for questioning, he wasn't appreciating the stares of the crowd, and put his hood up to conceal his face and preserve his dignity. He was worried for Zieta's fate, and equally worried at the hole Mayhaka had dug himself into, but he was ultimately a self-centred individual, and this display could seriously tarnish his reputation as a Toa.

- Taipu1.

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"no where much" he said nonchalantly. "just the entrance to a secret ba....well, i'll tell you the details on the road. assuming you're in of course. also, you don't seem very comfortable going anywhere. wouldn't be anything I could do to lessen the fear/phobia/whatever it is, is there?"

 

IC: Terilis

 

"No... there's nothing anyone can do." His hand spasms had ceased, but that was only because he kept it tight in a fist. So far, this Toa hadn't given him any reason to be trusted, and was likely hiding something. As to where he had heard of his 'One good qualtiy,' that he was trying to figure out as well. As if anyone would ever want to talk about him... other than in disgust.

"Where did you hear about me?"

IC: Strackkorotus

"a Ga-Matoran, originally. she passed that knowledge to a po-matoran, and from that po-matoran to myself. she said that she had seen you around her village and..well, wanted you gone" Strack said. he cracked his knuckles, the slight pain coursing through his fingers.

Previously known as Aiwendil.

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IC: Terilis

 

"Hmm..." He mumbled. Usually Terilis was much better at concealing himself to the rest of the world. To think that it was so easy for a matoran to learn about him and to pass on the information to others was... unsettling, to say the least. However, what was done is done, and Terilis was not about to resort to killing those who knew of him. Surprisingly, the only thing he didn't wonder about is why the Ga-Matoran would want him gone. A strange, dark, blue figure(and male with his colors!) lurking behind trees and in the shadows, who wouldn't want him gone?

He sighed, rubbed his temples behind his mask, and said, "Alright. We may as well walk as we talk. This Karzahni-bound sun is about to drive me to blindness."

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IC: Puroruk

As methodical as ever, the hard-shelled ussal made it's way over the rise, it's legs sinking partway into the softer sand of the dune. It was far more rocky in this region of Po-Wahi, with massive geometric monoliths of rust-colored stone jutting out from the arid landscape for kios around. Before him lay a jagged wound in the earth, as if some god had taken a blade to the island, cutting a swath tens of kio long. Hidden within it's winding length were the beings he was tasked to watch over. With a final glance around, Puroruk coaxed his ussal forward.

It didn't take long for the carver to reach the encampment, though he had to admit, if he hadn't known where it had been, then finding it would have been a completely different story. The army had burrowed into the layered stone of the canyon like troller worms, carving out an existence in the otherwise arid desert. Stepping off of the ussal, a cloud of dust rising as his boots impacted the ground, Puroruk reached into one of the saddle bags slung over the side of the crab. After only a moment of searching, the Po-Matoran pulled out what appeared to be a simple cube, not much larger than the hand that held it. Although, things weren't always as they seemed, and for this wooden block, this was especially true.

Without pause, Puroruk stowed the object away into the his bag, and continued onward through the camp. Around him was the strangest assortment of beings to ever be called an “army”. Matoran, Toa, Skakdi, Vortixx, and even species he couldn't identify, they were the lowest of the low on this island. The murders, the outcasts, the thieves, shunned by many and unwanted by all. It left them feeling resentful and eschewed. It also made them dangerous, more so when most would have killed without a second thought before.

It was also why Puroruk carried with him a dagger, regardless of what kind of “honor among thieves” was in place. They had been sharpened into a sword, but it was a double edged blade at best. Nonetheless, he had a job to do, so he would just have to make sure that this sword stayed within it's scabbard, for now.

Most of them were loitering around various shacks, they couldn't be called buildings, haphazardly thrown up, or near the mouths of caves that also served as shelter. The carver wasn't interested in them. His focus was on the set of caves near the back of encampment, the ones with a line of smoke trickling out from their gaping mouths. It was where the smiths were, and that's where he needed to go.

It didn't take long for the burly man to reach the caves, and he stepped inside, though didn't travel any further than the entrance. From there, he simply watched and observed.

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IC: Zieta

 

Zieta wondered what the "plan was". She wasnt one to keep queit but the pain in her abdomen was so great she could barley speak in anything more than grunts or whimpers.

Edited by Commander CeeCee

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OOC

You posted! :D

 

IC- Laki - Peer's army

 

In the middle of the cave into which Puroruk looked was a roaring fire, reaching almost to the roof and blackening it. The toa could feel the fire from where he stood. Radiating from the fireplace were anvils, barrels of water, other forging tools.
That was where Laki was.
Similar to most of the workers in the cave, the Le-Matoran didn’t notice the observer. He was too focused, caught up in his own little world of forging and creating. He loved his cycles, he loved the simplicity, loved the ease. Laki didn’t have to think- he just worked.
He was unlike the other workers. They were doing a variety of things, from working with angry passion to joking with their fellows. But none of them were entranced, like Laki. The light from the fire in the middle and the red hot steel of the shield he was forging lit up the Le-Matoran’s face, exposing his expression of rapture. He looked like a worshipper watching his god. Like someone witnessing something glorious, amazing.
The light made Laki’s armor look faintly golden as he hammered the steel with muscles trained and honed by this work. He was working alone, turning the hunk of metal slightly, rounding it more and more. The Le-Matoran was a very good smith. The others were a bit frightened by how fast Laki had picked up the trade, but Laki was good because he worshipped what he did. He was creating something from nothing, forming his own little universe. These cycles of creation were all that existed for him.
Laki handed off the shield to another worker who looked at him like all the others did- a mixture of distain and pity. Laki was shut off from them, in a world of his own, and the others saw this. It made them uneasy.
Laki pulled another long piece of metal out of the fire where it had been heating up and began pounding at it, looking with awe and fascination as another cycle began

--------------   Tarrok | Korzaa | Verak | Kirik   --------------

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IC: (Hari)

 

"I promise, Rynekk. I'll always be here for you, as a Toa and a friend. Now Krayn should be here soon..." Hari replied, just as Krayn showed up. Hari folded her arms as she looked at Stendhal, then Rynekk, then back to Krayn.

 

"Private Rynekk was being blackmailed by the trespasser, apparently going by the name of Stendhal. He's been using Private Tadris to keep Rynekk under his finger." She paused for a few seconds, letting it sink in for Krayn as much as it did for her. "I know we have other missions to follow up on but Rynekk and his friend need our help. Naona and the others should know too." She sighed, rubbing the back of her head as she thought on it, a nervous habit. Concerned for her friend and his other friend as well. In fact if they had anything to go off she felt like going for it immediately. Sitting around on the ship made her bored, made her nervous. Maybe it was that fear of water that went up to her head. Maybe because she felt with each passing second Private Tadris's life was further at risk. She couldn't let Rynekk down, she had to find Tadris. Whether the rest of the crew agreed or not.

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IC(Quert):

 

"Yeah, that'll be best."

 

Quert snapped his fingers at the two Po-Matoran. "Take her to room..." he glanced at a room chart of the hospital, "...room 34. We can work on her from there."

 

Quert turned back to Ronah. "You'll let her friends know where she is, right?"

WIP

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IC: Zieta

 

They didnt put her to sleep during the operation. There wasnt enough Anaesthetic to be wasted on a Toa the broke the rules. She felt the needles and hands poke inside her wounds. She screamed, she cried, but she would not beg.

After a while they stopped.

She had her eyes closed but she could feel the bed she was lying on be roled into another room. Now she just had to wait for the gaurds to let her leave. She just hoped it wouldnt be too long.

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OOC: Seeing as PM's inexplicably fail to get your attention...

 

Navy Nutter, Floridian Citrus, you'll want to see this

IC: Kuhrin

 

The desert winds created not only a mist-like breeze of sand, but a low humming like the sound of a didgeridoo being played at half its usual speed. Such unique weather was both bizarre and awe-inspiring, even to a servant of pure evil like Kuhrin. Although he didn't show it, he was blown away by the island's beauty everywhere he went. But to keep up his intimidating image, he tended to pretend not to notice or feel anything. He had, in fact, done this long before his turn to the darker side of life, even if he wouldn't admit it. A lot of his present qualities had been part of him for longer than he would admit.

 

There was no time for thoughts like that at a time like this. Echelon was never the only one pulling strings outside of his orders, and certainly not the only one in pursuit of power of his own. Kuhrin's interference in the business of others was more to make someone else suffer, to punish them, instead of to glorify himself (whether it was in the image of his true master or not). This, he assumed, was why the Dark Lord allowed him to continue his business instead of ending it on the spot: because traitors could not go unpunished.

 

This traitor could have gotten away with it in any other case. None of the other Followers of Makuta seemed to notice when he had deserted them, which made Kuhrin worry a little for their structure as a group. Perhaps they had assumed him to be Kuhrin's responsibility and not their own, perhaps they thought he had been sent away for some reason, but whatever the case, it wasn't how Kuhrin saw it. Deserting was traitorous, and traitors never go unpunished. Especially one with a history. Not just with betrayal, but a personal history.

 

Kuhrin and Krell's personal history, specifically.

 

The Toa of sonics knew roughly where to find them - if all had gone to plan, they should have left Onu-Wahi by now. A bit of sonar and patience would lead him to them, and he could finally introduce himself to whatever pretty little friends Krell had picked up along his trip. And, of course, her. Zuriana. Just the thought of her name flashed Kuhrin back to his days as a Matoran, when everything was so much simpler. Then as he got older, it just had a way of making itself more scarring and traumatic, more complicated and confusing, and worst of all, so full of mixed emotions. Kuhrin really hated those. It was exactly the kind of thing Noka used to induce in him.

 

Used to.

 

* * *

 

A knock at the door. Gotta hide the sword, gotta hide it, over here maybe, no no it's gotta look inconspicuous what do I do they're hammering at the door it could be him what if it's him oh mata nui no no ive gotta hide i cant deal with this im gonna break down-

 

No. Do what you do best, Noka. Act. Act like everything's okay, pretend there's nothing wrong with you. Put on a smile and laugh and be happy. Answer the door. It can't be him.

 

After a quick wipe of the blade, I place the sword in its place mounted on the wall like a decoration, and cross the hut to the door. Upon opening it, I smile kindly at the Matoran there who-

 

Is him. Karzahni. My heart skips a beat. What do I do.

 

"Hi, Kuhrin," I smile warmly and invitingly. Residents of Ta-Koro are used to the heat, but the sand is a different story. So, I invite him in and offer him tea. He doesn't want any. We goof around for a bit. It's the most fun I've had in so long. But he doesn't seem to feel the same way. He keeps stopping and staring into space sadly. Him being sad makes me feel sad, and we all know what happens when I feel sad. Bad things. "Are you alright?" I ask, my disgusting fake smile fading as he stops laughing and pushes me away when I try to tickle him.

 

"Fine, just... I dunno," he replies, looking into space. "I feel... Wrong."

 

I look at him expectantly, and when he doesn't respond, "Explain."

 

"I dunno, it's like I'm homesick, but I don't know why. I'm a member of the Guard, I should be used to being in other places. But I feel so out of place here, it's strange. I almost feel like I don't know you anymore."

 

Okay, that's bad. That's very bad.

 

"There's this line in my head. On the one side is the times we used to have, the fun conversations we used to have, messing around, like we are today. On the other is the conversations you keep pulling me away to have with you, about your problems and all the people who supposedly hate you and about- about the... Cutting."

 

The word sends a shiver up my spine, and he sees it. He's visibly distressed.

 

"I mean, what am I supposed to do? I try to get you to stop and you stubbornly refuse, saying you're fine. When I say you're fine, you say you aren't. I just don't understand you anymore. It's like you're just looking for my pity."

 

Now that's where I draw the line. Too far. "Looking for your pity?! You think I want this? You think I can help being like this? If I could change, for you, I would. I would have done it long ago. I would be anything you want me to be, if I could. But I'm stuck like this, a messed up psycho covered in scars and, and, and-"

 

He can't hold it in any longer. He gets to his feet and his voice is raised, not able to be contained in the tiny room. "Don't go on. Don't go on if all you're going to do is slander yourself. I wasn't take a stab at you, I was taking a stab at the sun, the sky, the very earth itself. I don't feel like I belong here, Ta-Koro, anywhere, this mortal plane just isn't my home. You're not the only person who's drifting away from me at the moment. I haven't spoken to Krell since the forest outside Ta-Koro was burnt to little more than petrified ash and charcoal. I miss the days when I could ride down winding slides into the heart of a volcano without a care in the world and do little more than farm lava, rather than fight a war I have no place in. I miss the days when I didn't have to worry. I miss the days when life was simple. When it wasn't so complicated. When I wasn't such a failure."

 

I'm calm. His volume isn't reflected in my quiet reply. "Life is complicated. Life is horrible, and harsh, and completely unfair. But every now and then something will happen that makes it all worthwhile: someone you love laughs; you see a proposal; you see a tiny baby, with its two parents, looking happier than ever; or you get someone who comes along, and makes everything okay. You're not a failure, at all. You're amazing. You're funny, and witty, and adorable, and insanely clever. I'm expecting things from you that I shouldn't, and that's my fault."

 

Ta-Koronans have never been renowned for their skill at holding in tears. Kuhrin's never been an exception. He begins to sob like a little child who's lost their mother. Perhaps that's the best thing to describe him. The last little boy left out in the cold to fend for himself. Perhaps that's what he feels, but he's too broken for the words to come.

 

* * *

 

If were to look to the shaded horizon now, he would see the little lonely hut in the middle of nowhere that she used to live in. He didn't look. He wanted to spare himself the pain of remembering the rest. Forcing the daydream back inside the vault at the back of his mind, he went on his way.

 

The winds were dying down now. It wouldn't be long before he found Krell and his band of merry men. It wouldn't be long before they had a nice little chat down memory lane and had a lovely old fight to the death. Great times were truly in store.

 

Three beings, not far from his location. A Matoran and two Toa. Only one other? That was a surprise and a half, to say the least. Naming Day had come early for Kuhrin. He fingered the handle of his blade. The sword itched to be removed from its prison, it itched to be the tool of vengeance and justice, and Kuhrin would gladly wield it, if only for the sheer joy of cold steel cutting through warm flesh.

 

Scaling a small hill of beige, the Toa of sonics looked over the landscape, and spotted his quarry. Perfect. Kuhrin switched off the sonar and decided to take the rest of the way through the heat with his impeccable senses to guide him. Not long now, he told himself, and the serrated snake hanging from his waist. Not long.

 

Within minutes of striding through wavy air and grainy yellow (which was a real sore on the eyes in such bright sunlight), Kuhrin could hear voices. Voices that weren't the ones constantly rabbling inside his head, at least.

 

"Come on, kid, wake up," said a stranger.

 

A pause, then, "Here, I'll handle this." Oh, I bet you will, Zuriana.

 

A splash, then some spluttering, then, "I saw you."

 

There he was. Krell the Traitor. Krell the Deserter. Krell the... Friend...? No, shut up, Kuhrin, and get to work.

 

Before Zuria could respond to Krell's shocking statement, the entire area the three of them were in shook and vibrated with a mighty boom! Sand was spiralled into the air, she felt like her head was being split open and it looked like the other two were having a similar (but not quite so severe) reaction. Whatever was making this sound was not natural.

 

Then the storm came to an end, and a figure stood above them, sword in hand. He was thin, clothed in dark colours like blood and glared into her with blazing eyes from behind a rusted black Hau. She knew the name, but she didn't know he belonged to it.

 

Kuhrin. The Fallen.

 

Krell's reckoning had come.

 

 

IC: Ferron

 

Before Ferron could muster a reaction to Krell's statement, his ears were assaulted by a conundrum of noises that felt like a blade of pain splitting his skull, kanohi and all

 

He staggered back as he desperately tried to cover his ears, his eyes blurred by the sand.

 

Slowly, the pain subsided, and Ferron could see again. It seemed like Krell and Zuriana had suffered the same unexplainable urge of pain as him.

 

But Ferron could see something more; a spindly, armed figure with eyes like fire burning through the eyeholes of the rusted Hau he was wielding... rusted like the rest of his armor.

 

"Wait... rusted armor" Ferron pondered as he threw a glance at Krell, as if to remind himself of what he'd just realized.

 

"Figures someone would have a score to settle with the kid" Ferron stated.

 

He turned to look back at the stranger, who he guessed was the cause of the noise from earlier.

 

"Listen, if you just lay down your weapon now, we won't have to hurt you, but if you as much as breathe in a way I don't like, things are going to get loud. And if you are what I think you are, you won't like that anymore than us"

I say it's time we got this moving again.

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IC(Quert): Quert walked into room 34, holding a folder. He glanced up at Zieta, bandaged from the operation. "Name: Zieta." Quert said aloud as he wrote in the folder. He glanced up Zieta again. "I'm going to ask you a few questions. Medical questions, so don't worry. How did you get injuried?"

WIP

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IC:

I was silent throughout Hari's explanation, - really, there wasn't anything I could, or, to be totally honest, was willing to add - instead, watching her, Krayn and Stendhal with equal parts dread and hope. There were so many ways this conversation, and the one that I was going to be sure would follow, could go wrong, and so few that could go right.

Meanwhile, the two pieces of parchment Stendhal had given me were currently busy burning a hole in my pocket. I knew I would have to tell the crew about them at some point, but I still feared the inevitable order to hand them over to authorities. These scribbles were, currently, my only shot at figuring out what Mr. Drama-Queen over there was planning, and how I had been caught up in it all. Something inside me was saying that I would be making a mistake giving them to someone else; for some reason, I had been chosen for this task, out of all sorts of other, far more qualified individuals.

And that same thing inside me was telling me that I had to be the one to finish it.

-Void

 
 
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IC: Zieta

 

"Oh. Im sorry. I misunderstood. Its the pain I think." She winced. "I have... a friend. I guess I would call him that. Hes called Zekize. He is a Toa of ice. Unless hes gone back to Ko-Koro, the best place would be to check the bar I was injured at"

She could have picked any member of her team, but to her knowledge, he was the only one not being questioned.

"If its possible, I would like him to come anyway. I dont want to be alone if I do... pass away."

Edited by Commander CeeCee

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IC:

 

So...

 

How's everything doing today?

 

That's not a rhetorical question by the way; I'd like to know. Because I have no idea what's going on here anymore. Lohkar's taken Yasurek aside for a discussion, Tellus and Floria are busy at work (yes, you read correctly; Floria's working), Lasinia and Mim are... somewhere, and Raknar and Song are just... floating there, in their... wait for it... really ugly ship!

 

And me? What is the man known to many as Gunner, doing?

 

He's sitting on the side of a ship, watching it all. Because he can.

 

-Void

 
 
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IC: Terilis

 

"Hmm..." He mumbled. Usually Terilis was much better at concealing himself to the rest of the world. To think that it was so easy for a matoran to learn about him and to pass on the information to others was... unsettling, to say the least. However, what was done is done, and Terilis was not about to resort to killing those who knew of him. Surprisingly, the only thing he didn't wonder about is why the Ga-Matoran would want him gone. A strange, dark, blue figure(and male with his colors!) lurking behind trees and in the shadows, who wouldn't want him gone?

He sighed, rubbed his temples behind his mask, and said, "Alright. We may as well walk as we talk. This Karzahni-bound sun is about to drive me to blindness."

IC: [strackkorotus]

"glad to hear it!" he said cheerfully. "The Ko-matoran was last seen in the crevices of some sort of crazy rock formations south of Po-Koro. it's a pretty dangerous place, from what I've heard, but what could go wrong?"

Previously known as Aiwendil.

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IC(Quert): "Anywhere from tomorrow to the day Makuta decides Boiled Seaweed is a good idea. In short: No clue." Quert replied, writing in the folder. "Toa heal at different rates, and we haven't figur-Whoa, lay down!" He ordered, having glanced up at Zieta.

WIP

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IC: Zieta

 

"Telling me what to do is a bad idea."

With the orders against her she tried all her best to move but the pain was to great.

 

OOC: Whose decision is it for when Zieta is healthy enough to leave?

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OOC: I'm assuming after Zieta's pals are done getting "Good cop, bad cop"ped, they'll take her or something. That's how I'm playing. But we could always do some House medical "you're healed" thing. Your choice.IC(Quert): "Not listening to me is a bad idea. Now lay down."

WIP

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OOC: I'm assuming after Zieta's pals are done getting "Good cop, bad cop"ped, they'll take her or something. That's how I'm playing.But we could always do some House medical "you're healed" thing.Your choice.IC(Quert):"Not listening to me is a bad idea. Now lay down."

OOC: A house heal thing would be good. I honestly dont know how long there questioning is going to take.

 

IC: Zieta

 

Zieta grunted and lay back down with a thud.

"Fine". He voice wobbled.

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OOC: Yeah, hmm, okay, I'll cook something up.IC(Quert): "The less strain you put on your body, the better. Now stay in bed. I'm gonna go see if I can get you something." Quert ordered as he closed the folder, spun on his heel, and marched out.

Edited by thebeggerpie

WIP

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IC(Quert):

 

Quert pulled out the folder and again wrote in it, muttering to himself as he did so. He glanced up at Zieta again. "I recommend going to sleep. Your body will react better to the soup sleeping then awake. Hospital staff are just a scream away. I'll be down the hall." Quert snapped the folder shut, spun on his heel, and marched out the door.

WIP

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Zekize stood in the streets of Po-Koro, slightly confused.

There'd been a fight in the bar between an angry Skakdi and some of his recent acquaintances. Zek had been perfectly happy sitting off to the side, thank you very much, though once the dust had cleared, he partially regretted doing nothing. A few of the Toa he'd travelled to the tavern with had been arrested, and another was gravely injured, and had been taken to the hospital nearby.

 

 

OOC:

Alright, sorry I was away. What should I do with Zekize? I mean, should he arrive immediately, or once she's healed?

save not only their lives


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but their spirits

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IC: Tellus

 

Having finished his task, Tellus was just about to yell, "We're all ship-shape an' ready to sail, Cap'n," when he realized that Lohkar was missing. After climbing down from the rigging, he spotted Gunner.

 

"Gunner! Ye wouldn't 'appen to know where the Cap'n's gone, would ye? We're ready to sail."

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IC: The Infernavika

Oh, Tellus is back. Well, at lest that's someone.

"The Captain is currently preoccupied with another matter - until he returns, I am in charge of the ship," I said, in a voice just loud for everyone on board to hear.

And... nothing happened.

With a shrug, I smack my lips and add, "Well, no mutiny yet, so I can't be doing that bad a job. Anyway, Tellus, since I have no actual idea what Lohkar's specific plans are (if any), my best suggestion would be to prime the ship for immediate departure, stand by for any further orders regardin' our route to another port, and... I dunno, maybe grab a drink or a bite to eat. Savvy?"

-Void

 
 
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