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BZPRPG - Kentoku Archipelago


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[Hanaloi, Observatory Entrance(Fanai/NPC)]
Mari’s mouth was set in a thin firm line.   “No more hasty moves, Askha.   I don’t care how well you think you know this island—it’s not worth any of our lives.”  She looked towards Somei.   “What’s the safest way out of here?”

Fanai had hesitated before, but now she regretted keeping her ideas from the rest of the party.  ::Askha.::   Her ideatalk gently bumped against the other menti’s consciousness.  ::If you use your mask again, you must let me willhammer you first.::

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata

[Sado, Streets(Morie)]

Morie frowned.  This was certainly not a creation of Zataka, but she did not want to risk moving her convoy out into the open.

::I am several streets over girl, have you never heard ideatalk before?   What is your name and clan?::

OOC: @Perp

[Hanaloi, Old Dock (Ilykaed)]

It was an hour before the archers began to relax, and an hour more before Ilykaed allowed herself to hope.   Perhaps…perhaps the creatures had been distracted.   But by what?   Certainly not something she was willing to stake would last through the night.

It was Falki who caught her then, her mask painted with frustration. “The Sokomaster caught something in the woods—she’ll only talk to you.” It was very clear that Falki had decided to disagree with her elder.   Well, the koshi zrupgar could disagree all she liked, as long as she respected the judgement of her superiors.

Ilykaed walked, slowly and deliberately, to the place where the Sokomaster kept her vigil, watching for movement herself in the thick canopy.   But her eyes, so well trained for the movements in grass, able to trace even the movement of a gafna, confused themselves on the play of shadows that defined the forest.   This was not her home.

She stepped next to the other woman, trying to follow her gaze as she spoke.  “What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?”


“Ah.   Falki told you?   Good.   I saw a most wondrous thing some minutes ago.”

“And you tell it only to me?”  This was something new.   The sokomaster was a taciturn woman to say the least.   Words such as “wondrous” were few and far between with her.

The sokomaster pursed her lips.  “I do not know if all should hear this.   Falki does talk.”

“So what was it?”

“I saw a warrior—imperial perhaps, but clad in armor—“ her voice wavered  “—metal armor like none I’d ever seen.  And she was speaking to an ash bear, like you might to another zrupgar, Jahagir.”

“A what?”

“I think I might have some idea.”   She sighed.   “About the bear at least…the Kaazi, they were distant relatives of our own clan and unlike us—”   Did Ilykaed imagine the anger in her voice?   Was it built up from a long tradition of defensiveness for her ancestors that did not burn for their precious ideals? “—they retained their sacred arts.   It was said they could fight with an animal about them like a skin, a skin that only the most skilled in the mental arts could penetrate.”

Ilykaed took a deep breath.  This was good, wasn’t it?   There was another clan of Taajar on the island, and they were at least neutral.   She had no doubt the other warriors would have attacked the Kuychar already if they had any ill will.   Still…it was strange, to keep themselves hidden so.   The Taajar had squabbled among themselves nearly as much as imperials, but in times like these neither of their peoples could afford to keep to themselves.

She turned to her sokomaster.  “I am going to send Falki and Semraed to see if we can make contact with these refugees.”

“Hmmm.”

“Falki won’t talk if she’s out there,”  Ilykaed said in response to the wordless doubt in her fellow warriors voice.  “And Semraed will keep her in line.”

Ilykaed knew that the two koshi zrupgar were sweet on each other, and possibly on Sedskar.   Not unheard of, and not worth quashing.   It would give them more reason perhaps, to tread carefully in the presence of an unknown and possibly hostile clan.  Feelings molded to purpose were what she needed, and ultimately whatever thoughts they had were not as important as their actions.


OOC: @Keeper of Kraata and @Goose , you might have some visitors soon.

Edited by Mel
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There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

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IC: Sydelia - Gardens District, Sado

"Well, you certainly brought them to the right person." The Fursic glanced aside as she handed the basket off to several Dashi to sort according to her instructions. Indeed, if they had gone to one of the Dastana supply dumps, she might not have gotten her hands on these at all.

Why was he here? He wasn't working directly with the Dastana and other Imperial guard remnants, or else he'd have turned his find with them. She looked down at her garb; none of the bloodstains were fresh, and she herself could use a bath. Still, she had seen worse (including from the Menti on the front lines). She made a show of tidying herself up and turned to their mysterious benefactor. "Who, might I ask, would you be that can grow such useful herbs in his backyard?"

OOC: @Umbraline Yumiwa

IC: NPCs - Mashtet Tunnels

Vazaria's soulsword struggled as it bit into the outcropping, but between her and the Rahkshi's brute strength, the cracks that Vazaria formed expanded and with a crumble, the rock broke loose. The Rahkshi beside her rocked back as it heaved the boulder aside. With serpentine grace, it pressed against the exposed hollow in the stone wall, feeling around. It paused, and began clawing away the loose rock and dirt before punching through the stone to the other side; there was another tunnel. Now that there was a hole in the wall, it didn't take long for the Rahkshi to burst through. Somehow, the air on the other side was even hotter, though there were less natural heatstones jutting out of the walls here; instead, carved heatstone lamps as well as Vazaria's own soulsword provided the light for the fallen Menti to see.

As Vazaria followed the Rahkshi further through the tunnel, the air began to remind her of an oven, or a kiln. Still, these tunnels were no longer only natural; the walls and floor had been bricked over. There were, however, still corpses; withered, but preserved. Instead of throngs of Dashi, however, scattered occasionally were the desiccated bodies of Menti, and by their weapons, they had been slain in combat. Some still had their means of death embedded in their bodies; many others had been severely lacerated and burned prior to death. Vazaria recognized the marks of a soulsword; indeed, she realized the walls were occasionally also marked by the characteristic burned cuts of a psychokinetic weapon. On several of the bodies, their armor was cracked where a hole split them open. The rahkshi seemed to quicken as the tunnel opened into a large chamber, and Vazaria realized that most of the bodies she had found had fallen facing away from this chamber; they had been defending it.

The chamber was wide, but smaller than the courtyard Vazaria had passed through earlier. Even more heatstone lanterns were fixed into the walls of the round chamber, with many additional ones hanging from crystal chains from the domed ceiling high above her. The walls of the room were carved into alcoves, spiraling up and down throughout the chamber in hundreds, if not thousands, of alcoves. The brick path of the tunnel continued and raised into a dais at the center of the chamber; a single corpse lay there crumpled. This one was different, wearing heavier armor than any of the Menti that outside. Neither her o-yoroi nor her naginata, itself broken in half at her feet, had saved her; her face was a ruined mess underneath her broken Rau. Unlike the faded masks of the other Menti, this one's was different. It was blotched, discolored, rusty, much like Vazaria's own mask.

The aquamarine Rahkshi, however, seemed to have found what it was looking for. In many of the alcoves, a dusty, round carved figure sat. The Rahkshi began pulling the figures out of the alcoves, each one about the size of a Dashi's head. It piled more than a half dozen in its arms before glancing at the fallen Menti, warbling. It went back to gathering the figures. Judging by the empty alcoves, it must have made three or four trips already.

OOC: @Nato G

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The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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IC Yuna:

I grimaced at the all too familiar realization that Ahri had attempted ideatalk before realizing I couldn't hear it, but I nodded and followed along all the same. My hands tightened along the grip of my sword.

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IC: Vazaria - Mashtet Tunnels

Questions swarmed around Vazaria like flies around carrion as she strode through the tunnel. 

What had happened in this place? Who were these people? How had they died? Why had this battlefield been buried? And what did the armies of Zataka want with old statuettes hidden beneath a ruined fortress? 

Troubling though the questions were, she saw no sense in asking them.

Her present company wasn't exactly capable of offering an answer.

Instead, she started reaching into the alcoves to remove more of the figures. The Rahkshi seemed intent on collecting them; presumably it wanted her to assist with carrying them. As she picked up the first, she took a moment to look it over, trying to get a sense of what they were.

@Keeper of Kraata

 

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BZPRPG Mercenary Organisation - Description - History - Base

BZPRPG Characters - Minnorak, Kain, T'harrak, Savis, Vazaria, Lash

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IC: Suzume - Sado Streets 

The Toroshu’s description of her location did not alleviate the sickness that consumed young Suzume: the dreaded Pivoting Plague. Still her head jerked this way and that, trying fruitlessly to triangulate direction from sounds which were not, at the moment, being made. Whatever psionic star she could point herself towards in the mental plane might as well have been a miniscule diamond sitting amongst a plateau of sand.

Whatever celestial anecdote Suzume appeared as to the Toroshu, it must’ve been something to behold.

::Uhhhhh… Suzume…:: came the eventual response, blaring perturbedly as an out-of-tune woodwind. “Daikura Suzume! Who… are… you…?::

OOC: @Mel

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IC: Raika, Oki shoreline

 

Raika nodded, then focused their mind. 

 

They held an image of themself there, clear as can be through the bias of one's own eyes. Slowly, they blurred that image, bending focus away from it. The concept of the figure growing hazy, they triggered their kanohi and completely faded from perception. 

 

To the Wraith's travelling companions, were they to look back, it might seem that there was never was never a third member to their party.

 

.:Affirmative.:. clipped Raika, a little more confident now that their shaking body was hidden by their cloak. .:Ahri, if you can work a loop of something around the blade's trigger, it will remain heated. And please try not to twist or shear it, that could expose the heatstone core and definitely cause a fire.:.

 

OOC: @The UltimoScorp @Keeper of Kraata

Whatever mountain you are climbing, you can do this.

                                       BZPRPG character masterpost

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                      "Just promise me something... don't let me go."

 

 

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IC (Ageru Kilanya) [Fort Kizuno, Odaiba]

The afternoon passed quickly; Kilanya's sweep of the fort was thorough but uneventful, showing the defences to be in an acceptable state and the supply stocks at satisfactory levels. Returning to the command chambers near the top of the donjon, she received updates from various aides as to the status of the Odaiba foothold in her absence: Rahkshi activity levels, safety and efficiency of supply routes, condition of outer defensive emplacements...

By the time the setting sun had begun to paint the clouds in pink and gold, she was at last fully appraised of everything and free to inspect the training session where she expected to find young Shiki.

The Kizuno training ground was not the Yards, where classes were meticulously grouped by experience, talent and specialisation; they had neither the numbers nor the time for that. A rough delineation by Discipline was the most the overworked instructors could manage: here a group of Sighteyes conjuring the particular decoys that had been found effective against Rahkshi, there a squad of Mindarms lifting boulders and hurling spears. Sitting meditating in a circle, the Willhammers were the smallest group, since their Discipline had shown itself to be more a liability than an asset against this alien foe. There were even a number of Dashi volunteers, practicing spear drills in unison with lengths of bamboo standing in for yari. Kilanya stopped by each group in turn, offering praise or correction where warranted, and generally making her presence felt.

Unsurprisingly given the large Ageru presence, the Soulswords were the largest group. They were also the ones Kilanya spent the most time with: here she could give practical demonstrations as well as feedback. As she walked slowly between the lines of practicing swordswomen, she stopped here and there to illustrate proper form for the many Tenshuu-ryu sword techniques, and spar briefly with some of the more advanced learners. She thought — or hoped — that the trainees were imbued with a new energy and diligence after receiving instruction directly from their Toroshu. It was the least she could do to prepare them for the unforgiving battlefield Odaiba had become.

Eventually she reached the young Menti she'd met earlier in the day. She approached with the same commander's gait as before: tightly controlled steps, back straight, hands clasped behind her.

"Shiki," she said, greeting her with a small nod. "How goes your practice?"

 

OOC: @Razgriz

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IC: Askha & Somei - Hanaloi, Observatory

Askha's hands reached out to hold her Mashtet token; they needed to hold something physical, and she wasn't as familiar with the Rahkshi's staff as she could have been for it to feel entirely used to its grasp. As she got to her feet in one swift motion, she sighed. .:I'll bite. What's your plan?:.

Somei smiled faintly; she doubted a Dastana's word would change Askha's nature; something told Somei that they weren't done on Hanaloi yet. Hopefully, the price for it wouldn't be paid in blood. "We'll have to double back down the path south before going back to northern cove, though we should check with the Kaazi about that; the sun already sinks in the sky."

IC: Hambra - Hanaloi, Forest

The Jahagir crouched slowly, squinting at the poor creature. It was dying; an ill omen, and not easy to watch. She considered the bite marks. .:It looks like a kavinika got to it. But they aren't poisonous... and koshi are supposed to be able to hide from predators.:.

On the ground, the koshi ceased moving. Hambra sighed; what ruin had been brought to her home? "I'll take you to the expedition," she said to Caana. "I left them at the Observatory, they should still be there." The Taajar stood and made to lead the way, but froze. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a small flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. All her scouts had already left. She glanced at the ronin Menti, and brought her free hand to her face to sign. "We're not alone."

Illusion once again coated her body, and Hambra chose to let Caana view the change. To any other mind, the massive Taajar shimmered and disappeared.

.:Come out. Who else goes there?:.

OOC: @Goose @Mel

IC: Ahri - Oki Coast, Abandoned Village

As the now pair reached the outskirts of the Vilda settlement, Ahri crouched behind an ajar door. Raika's words echoed in his mind; Ahri used Mindarm to depress the trigger to test the spear; the dagger-turned-spearhead began to glow. Ahri's brow raised. "Good to know."

As Ahri and Yuna ventured into the village, the scene they were greeted with was not one of wholesale destruction. Instead, the village looked like the arena in Sado after a particularly rowdy crowd had passed through; market stalls were empty if they were even still standing. The buildings were, for the most part, intact, if slightly overgrown and unmaintained. The village was built onto the water, with a network of piers in place to service vessels while imposing as little as possible into Oki's jungle; typical Vilda layout. Smoke rose from the central building in the village, an impressive multi-story wood structure.

.:Raika, see anything?:.

If there were any other Dasaka still in town, they would hear the ideatalk, and respond if they were Menti or Datsue. Hopefully, that was a good thing.

OOC: @Lady Takanuva @The UltimoScorp

IC: NPC - Mashtet Chamber

The stone trinkets were helical ridged constructions about the size of a Kanohi; in fact, they were surprisingly light for their size. Their surface was rough, but felt almost like dried wood; Vazaria realized that a good amount of the color on the figure was dust, almost a century's worth. They were hot to the touch, but less so than the rock around them. The ambient temperature from the heatstones seemed to be affecting these less, or it absorbed less heat, but it was still almost unbearable; each alcove almost served as a kiln. Vazaria's Rahkshi escort didn't seem to mind the heat; it seemed to have a resistance to heat, which it was currently exploiting by gather up an armful of the figures. Once it was full up, it turned to Vazaria and shrieked as if in confirmation. It then left the way it came, leaving Vazaria to find her own way back.

OOC: @Nato G

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The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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IC: Vazaria - Mashtet Chamber

Strange, she thought, turning the figure over in her hands. What are you? She still felt no closer to understanding what this chamber was, or why the Rahkshi were so interested in it... or why another servant of Zataka had seemingly given her life in defence of this place. 

She glanced back towards the corpse, sprawled upon the dais, her sword broken and her skull shattered. Her heavy armour still looked to be intact, though, and if Vazaria was required to protect this place as the dead woman had, there was no sense in letting it go to waste. The dead woman would understand, surely? They served the same master after all. 

She set about removing the armour as carefully and respectfully as she could, gathering it up in her arms along with the carvings before she set off back towards the surface. She'd try it on later, once she was away from the sweltering heat of the chamber. 

She worked her way back along the tunnel the Rahkshi had led her down, before flying up the well and landing in the courtyard, looking around to see where the Rahkshi was taking the carvings. 

@Keeper of Kraata

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BZPRPG Mercenary Organisation - Description - History - Base

BZPRPG Characters - Minnorak, Kain, T'harrak, Savis, Vazaria, Lash

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IC: Caana (Hanaloi, Forest)

Caana’s expression was somber as the Koshi grew still. Sleep well, Little Watcher; you fought to the end, and have earned your rest.

"I'll take you to the expedition. I left them at the Observatory, they should still be there."

Caana nodded in reply, her mind still turning over the facts of the diminutive Rahi’s demise. It had been unable to hide itself from the Kavinika, and either it had escaped, or the predator had left it uneaten. The poison, then, must have come first – and though Kavinika weren’t poisonous, Caana knew of one creature on the island that was-

A glimpse of blue, behind the trees. They were being watched. The ronin’s stance shifted nigh instantaneously, her hands on the grips of her tonfa, ready for a fight. Whatever waited in the woods, it was not of Hambra’s tribe, nor her expedition; if that much was not already clear from her words, then Hambra’s own surprise that they were not alone confirmed it.

Rahkshi. It was a possibility – if not a near-certainty, so close to the poisoned Koshi – but Caana couldn’t take any chances. Let the shape in the trees reveal itself, first. She activated her Kanohi, and waited for her next glimpse of their potential foe.

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Mel

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[BZPRPG PROFILES]

Nikarra - Kaelynn - Ronan - Muir - Donal Aerus - Montague - Kira - KouraLearu - Alteora - Fuacht - Caana Nessen - Merrill

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IC: Raika, Abandoned Oki village

 

The wraith stalked, silently, through the hurriedly abandoned streets. Doors hung open, wards and talismans hanging from eaves or door frames twisted in the breeze. 

 

Something soft brushed against Raika's foot. Recoiling, they looked to see it was a half-soaked doll made of linen cloth and stuffed with soft plant fibers. They gazed at it for a moment, before lifting the trinket and gently setting it on the porch of the closest house, where it would be visible to a visitor but protected from the worst of the elements.

 

Abandoned. The word was the only sound besides wind and the faint lapping of waves echoing across the settlement. Half-disembowelled lives, possessions spilling and strewn like innards from a slaughtered animal, and in some ways just as painful to behold.

 

Raika instinctively clutched at the carving hidden in their scarf as they proceeded through the settlement. They found a few odds and ends, pocketing what they could at first and then, taking a discarded satchel and carefully emptying the contents once more at the entrypoint of the nearest home, began filling it with what they deemed useful. 

 

A small bolt of linen for use under a ceremonial outfit, which might make useful bandages. Strips of cured, dried fish that inexplicably had remained safe from scavenging rahi. Flint, a small bundle of tinder strips wrapped in oilcloth. A small pot of meat preserved in salt. A petit, purple jadestone pendant carved into the symbol of Zuto Nui, found half-submerged in a puddle and polished clean on their cloak.

 

The smoke was traced, cautiously, back to the remnants of what had once been a smokehouse. There was no salvageable food in the ashes, but one or two small jadestone skinning knives Raika added to their pack. 

 

By the time they reached the near-looted armory Raika had settled into a sort of numb trance. Numbed as much as possible to the quiet, peaceful carnage of abandoned lives and livelihoods. It reminded her too much of combing through the ashes of her home, scrabbling for anything to salvage. The miserable realization that the discarded kanohi once belonging to her best friend would be too heavy to carry…

 

Inside were several cracked or half-useful swords. Raika looted through until she managed to find, hidden behind what appeared to be an official's table, a smoke-darkened crystal blade that was not too much longer than her own daggers.

 

 Strapping the wakizashi's sheath to a loop on her pack, Raika searched aimlessly until they came back upon the other two party members. The whole event took somewhere around thirty or forty minutes, but when they drew close they felt as though a lifetime had passed.

For a moment, they considered sitting, just listening to the two, to see if they were perhaps planning to betray them. But something inside of them rebelled at this notion. Something small, like a crawling plant sprouting from a crack in a flagstone. Raika had to resist the urge to stamp this alien new growth back into the pavement of their mind.

 

.:Not much there,:. they reported, shifting the satchel to show to the others as they faded into perception. .:Ahri, the blade is yours, if you want it.:. Nearly everything was in the satchel, save for the small trinket now hanging around their neck. They would carry a fragment of this place with them, because they knew now that a part of them would stay here. Sorting through the detritus, and wondering what the village had been like before its violent uprooting.

 

.:I did not see anybody, either. No bodies. Looks like a clean evacuation.:.

 

Not clean. But would the others understand the quiet tragedy of the precious trinkets thrown to the sides of the road, or spilling from shelves or doorways?

 

The idea that the answer might be "no" terrified them so much they kept it to themself. In the confines of their memories Raika held a silent vigil, in their own privative way.

 

OOC: @The UltimoScorp @Keeper of Kraata

Edited by Lady Takanuva
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Whatever mountain you are climbing, you can do this.

                                       BZPRPG character masterpost

20220406_234727.jpg

                      "Just promise me something... don't let me go."

 

 

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IC: Kenji - Making Ends Meat

The taste is fouler than you thought it would be, and you find yourself picking at rotting teeth with your blade, trying to get it out of your mouth. A futile affair. Instead you begin to taste copper in your mouth, and there's a numbed, but clear pain in your gums.

You had steadier hands once. 

The shattered sword rubs against your ripped garments again, before all but neatly going back in your sheath. 

Is it finally time to get back up?

You answer your own question, aching limbs standing your wasted torso up quietly. The crack of light coming through the wall beckons you. Your mustard eyes narrow and squint as you stalk over quietly, like a shallows cat. The sun rips at your eyes, before dulling after a moment. It's foggy just how long you've been camping out, but you wager maybe a few days. 

There's a few more ruined buildings nearby, all much smaller than the fort you stand shakily in. Makuta's dogs patrol with sniffs and snorts. Less than usual.

The bottom line hit you earlier, midway through your meal. This island is no shelter. There's little for you to pick at anymore, and as the remaining rahi die out, so will you. 

You wonder, not for the first time, if you even care. And yet you breathe. A familiar paradox.

And so you lean against the wall, watching the Rahkshi. Like the Kahu, in another life.

One in particular catches your eye, after minutes of staring. You haven't been able to mark the more nuanced colour schemes in your mind, but this one was a bright blue. A dangerous variation, if it is what you recall. It sits lifelessly, close to the entrance to your requisitioned fort, mindless. Not dissimilar from your own position.

You aren't afraid it will enter. This place was cleared long ago. But it serves as a guard to the jail you left yourself in. And so...if you do as your plan formed in the past moments is to come to pass...

The increasingly orange sun shines into your eyes. Perhaps it is time to leave.

 

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Posted (edited)

 [Hanaloi, Observatory Entrance(Fanai/NPC)]
“We leave the same way we came here then,” Mari said, and took up her position in the front; the others followed, though Murasaki kept a skeptical eye on the ceiling.

::I trained under a Daikura master of willhammering.   The specific technic is a way of…emptying the self, so your mind does not appear on the mental plane.  It is hard to teach, and takes many years, but if you allow me access to your mind, and can guide you to a facsimile of such.   It is not perfect, but will be better than completely revealing your position to the willhammering rakshi.::

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata

[Hanaloi, Forest (NPC)]

T'ull a’jaar, cousin.”

There was a breadth of silence in the air, and then two dashi emerged from the undergrowth.   One, shorter and wearing a noble miru, stared openly and Caana with an excited gleam in her eyes.   The other, who wore a mask of clairvoyance, had fixed her gaze on the place where the Jahagir had appeared just a minute ago.

She unhitched the recurve bow at her back, headless of the menti with hands on her weapons right not four paces from her.  Then she continued to speak in Vulgar Taa.

I lay down my bow.

She tossed her weapon on the ground in front of her, and she inclined her head, tapping a fist to it and setting the ebony whorls of wood on either side of her face swinging.  Her companion repeated the motion and the words, her masks rings catching the light where the wood had been carefully inlaid with bronze.“I lay down my knife.”The greeting had acquired the rhythm of a chant as the two dashi deposited their truly impressive stashes of knives on the ground, the crystal clinking in unison.

I am Kuychar Semraed.” “I am Kuychar Falki.

“I open my hands and they are empty.  If I carry anything, it is in my heart, and in my heart also I will sheath all that might cut and wound.  I come riding peace like a steed.  I come with my ears open, to be filled with the sweet water of companionship.”

Their ritual seemingly finished, Semraed, the taller of the dashi, spoke in common this time.

Jahagir, it seems we have been separated by circumstance.   Please, let us greet you properly as cousins should.”

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Goose


[Sado, Streets(Morie)]
::I am Plangori Morie.  Toroshu of my clan.::  Something unfortunate about the menti’s manner told her she would need this context.

Unlike Suzume, she was very skilled in triangulating mental noise and was able to step out in the street were the younger woman could see her.  (Followed, of course, but several other menti at her back.)  She made sure to leave enough space for Suzume to notice her, she had a feeling the menti would run smack into her otherwise.

::It is not safe here.   You must come with us.::

OOC: @Perp

Edited by Mel
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There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

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IC: Suzume - Sado Streets 

The sound of footsteps echoing off the crystal faces of the buildings behind her sent prickles down the back of Suzume’s neck, who almost lost her balance as she whipped herself around and discovered a group of Dasaka materializing from around a corner a block over. The one in front was, as far as Suzume could tell, the one Ideatalking with her. If she had identified herself after all, it flew completely by Suzume, her heart-rate spiking. The Toroshu’s projected thoughts of :not safe here: absolutely did register, however - such was the reason for her heart’s current state.

I SAID HEY

“What’s going on!?” squawked the young Dasaka, her creaky, underutilized voice carrying well down the street.

OOC: @Mel

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IC Yuna Koizumi - Abandoned? Oki Village:

Open, not broken doors with remnants of people's lives was an optimistic sign. The lack of bodies was also a relief.

The people of this village had fled, to live another day.

A dark thought crossed my mind that they may have simply been run down somewhere outside the village as they fled.

I pushed that thought down.

I spotted one or two canoes that the people who fled had evidently deemed unneeded or too damaged to use. More intriguing was the half submerged fishing trawler sticking placidly out of the water. Judging by what I could see from it, it might hold a couple dozen people...if it could be raised.

 

More importantly, if it could be raised without my secret coming out.

I pointed to it.

"Might be able to use that. I'll need to assess the damage, first."

@Keeper of Kraata

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[Sado, Streets(Morie)]

Now that Morie could see the little menti more clearly, it was a clear that she had been lacking food and water—and possibly sleep for a significant amount of time.   Had she been a prisoner?—unlikely, Morie decided; she didn’t look like could break her way out of a privy after accidentally jamming the door.

She sighed and spoke again, this time out loud.   “What is the last thing you remember when you were outside in Sado, Daikura Suzume?”

OOC: @Perp

There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

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IC: Ahri - Abandoned Oki Village

Smiling slightly, Ahri pulled the wakizashi to his hand. Not ideal, he would have preferred a larger blade at least, but scavengers couldn't be choosers. Scavengers. At least he wasn't robbing the dead; he still had some honor. He tucked the scabbard into the remnants of his sash at the small of his back, with the handle pointing left; it was the right place for a knife, and the wakizashi would have to do. The evacuation must have been a lot bigger than he thought; this village wasn't isolated, it was one link on a larger trading network. He stopped behind Yuna and followed her gaze to the boat.

"I'm not a Saihoko, but I oversaw a lot of lumber bound for Sado shipyards; figure out how much wood we'll need, and I can probably teach some of the refugees back at the encampment enough about logging to manage to get some timber to patch any holes."

Easing up, Ahri looked around the village. He couldn't remember if he had ever been to Oki; he doubted this had been a Vilda settlement. As he was walking around, Ahri almost stumbled in a depression in the sandy soil. Ahri stared at it and turned around before he realized what it was: a heavy bootprint. It wasn't a rahi's hoof or paw, but Ahri's own foot fit entirely within the print. Ahri scanned the area; this was the most obvious one, but there was signs of crushed earth at several points that might have been other footprints, except they were far too spaced out. The legs of whoever left these must have rivaled Rayuke. But judging by the depth, it was much heavier. Ahri's stomach twisted. Raika had shown him what these creatures looked like, but seeing exaggerated evidence like this made it feel real.

OOC: @Lady Takanuva @The UltimoScorp

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The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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IC: Hambra - Hanaloi Forest

The Jahagir let out a pent-up breath. She dropped her illusion as she placed a hand on Caana's bow arm, indicating it was safe to stand down. "Tull'ajaar, Kuychar cousins."

The towering Menti drove her trophy staff into the ground, but made no move to disarm otherwise. "I appreciate the gesture, but he sun hangs low; the Kaazi know that the Kuychar come in peace. It's why we haven't met. It seems to be a good day for meetings; I was just about to take this mainlander north to meet with an expedition of Imperials, when we found-"

Hambra gestured to ground where the Koshi's body, but had to look again; aside from some blood on the fallen leaves, the body was gone. "Well," she said in Imperial, "at least some things haven't changed..."

IC: Askha & Somei - The Observatory

As the group made their way down from the Observatory, Askha grimaced. .:It sounds dangerous. When I'm using my Iden, my spirit is all I have; its why we protected this place, our fortress, and any other important places with our carvings; if an Iden user like me is out and about, a Willhammer is as physically dangerous as a Soulsword is to my body, and a Sighteye possibly more so, our carvings extend onto the mental plane, and can stop my spirit just like the wall they're on. If I empty myself? I don't know if I would be able to come back... I'd be a ghost.:.

After the expedition exited the Observatory ground entrance, Somei used Mindarm to close the doors once more; the stone ground as the locking mechanism engaged itself once more. Outside the copse of trees, however, there was one less Kaazi warrior.

.:Where is Hambra?:.

Riko, who was maintaining her Rahkshi form, shrugged. The superimposed image of one of Zataka's sons leaning against the tree out of boredom was an interesting sight, to say the least.

"One of the koshi zrupgar scouts brought back word of a mainlander on the island," they said in Vulgar Taa. "Weird armor, but not one of the Kuychar. She went to check her out." The lean Taajar shoved off the tree, looking at the Dastana. "I heard what happened inside from down here. I take it you're heading back to your ship?"

IC: NPCs - Mashtet Fortress

As the fallen Menti touched the armor, the seemingly spotless O-Yoroi changed; the lacquer and crystal changed color around her fingers; an illusion coating the panoply. It seemed to reveal the aged, yet still sturdy material underneath. Still, Vazaria looted the corpse of its armor, a surprisingly easy task given the dessicated nature of the ruined former wearer.

When she was done, Vazaria followed the heat resistant Rahkshi back out of the well; it carried the figurines through the courtyard and through the large doors that stood at the entrance of the interior fortress. The mind-reading rahkshi was no longer at its post; instead, it was patrolling the compound, checking in crevices and other hiding places. Past the doors, the interior was surprisingly well lit; the lightstone lanterns still shone, though they were faint. They were enough to illuminate the floor and walls; in places, they were plain stone and wood. In other places, they were intricately weaving tapestries; watching them revealed that figures flowed through them as if animated by a Mindarm. The fading Mashtet Carvings made any tales they told impossible to read, however. The floor, however, fared much less well; some illusions of luscious carpet and exotic wood gave way to plain stone, and it was covered in dust and filthy. At the epicenter of the grime, another Rahkshi squatted, waiting, observing Vazaria. The Rahkshi carrying the stone figures dumped its armful at the black and brown feet of the one that waited and stalked back outside, apparently for another trip.

As Vazaria set down her own carvings, she watched as the Rahkshi grabbed a figurine and tapped it with its glowing staff. Contact with the Rahkshi's staff seemed to awaken something; the stone vibrated and cracked; what looked to be hundreds of years of dust flaked and fell off. The carved helix unbound as its flesh regenerated; color seemed to come back as the Rahkshi healed the creature. After a few moments, the slug squealed in the Rahkshi's grasp, wriggling. As the Rahkshi held it, the slug seemed to calm. Vazaria felt a sympathetic tug; like her, this little creature had been lost for so long, but it too found the embrace of Zataka. The Rahkshi that was doing the healing set the creature down, which slithered toward Vazaria while the Rahkshi worked on another petrified slug.

The yellow Kraata slunk up to Vazaria's foot, darkening the area as it went. It inspected the Menti, but did not flee or lash out, seemingly curious.

OOC: @Goose @Mel @Nato G

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The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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Posted (edited)

IC: Caana (Hanaloi, Forest)

A little hesitantly, the Menti allowed herself to relax, hands leaving the two Tonfa at her hips. A benefit of her travels – the life of a Ronin – was picking up a little Vulgar Taa; not enough to speak it, but enough to piece together the meaning of a conversation, especially with a little judicious application of her mask.

Her present company, however, she kept unaware of this; although they trusted her now, it was always best to have a secret or two, should the tables turn – especially when that secret allowed her to listen in on conversations not meant for her ears. This one, though, was innocuous, and she feigned subtle relief when Hambra switched back to Imperial.

“Taken by its kin, I would imagine.” It was an interesting detail to learn; the Koshi may have been even more intelligent than the legends suggested. She turned her attention back to the newcomers, and inclined her head respectfully. “I am Caana.”

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Mel

Edited by Goose
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[BZPRPG PROFILES]

Nikarra - Kaelynn - Ronan - Muir - Donal Aerus - Montague - Kira - KouraLearu - Alteora - Fuacht - Caana Nessen - Merrill

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IC: Vazaria – Mashtet Fortress

Vazaria’s lips curled into a sneer as she made her way through the fortress.

There were few things in life she hated more than illusions, and this place was saturated with them. Every scrap of fabric was drenched in pretence, every stone laden with lies. It was a vain, petty display by long-dead conmen who’d evidently been incapable of making any tangible works of value or meaning.  

And what good had all this counterfeit grandeur done the Mashtet in the end? The only remarkable thing about them, their only impact on history, had been their mysterious disappearance.

The Lost Clan indeed… though, I suppose they were the lucky ones in the end.

They wouldn’t have to endure Zataka’s judgement like the other clans already were, or soon would. Unless… what if they already did?

As the new Rahkshi touched its staff to the carving and reawakened the life within, as Vazaria suddenly understood what the carvings truly were, her comprehension of the scene she’d witnessed in the tunnels below changed. All of those bodies… were they the missing Mashtet? Left to rot beneath their own fortress, fallen in defence of Zataka’s imprisoned children? How long had they known about the Kraata? Who or what had killed them in the end?

The questions didn’t matter, she realised.

There was no one left alive to answer them.

And if those warriors had died trying to stop the Kraata from being freed, then their deaths had been in vain. The Rahkshi had finally come for their kin.

She watched the Rahkshi healer set aside the yellow Kraata and begin resurrecting the next. The newly-reborn wyrm slithered up to Vazaria’s foot, and she knelt down to inspect it, placing her armful of carvings before the Rahkshi as she did so.

“Hello little one,” she said, gently reaching out to stroke the strange snake/slug creature. “How long have you been waiting down there?”

She didn’t really expect an answer.

It just felt good to talk to someone.

@Keeper of Kraata

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BZPRPG Mercenary Organisation - Description - History - Base

BZPRPG Characters - Minnorak, Kain, T'harrak, Savis, Vazaria, Lash

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Posted (edited)

<TW: PTSD flashbacks>

 

IC: Raika, abandoned village

 

The smell of a piece of Kentoku crystal heating in the afternoon sun filled the air as Raika's hand creaked against the trigger on her heated dagger. She took a stumbling step back, then another, until she was pressed flat against a wall, breath audibly wheezing from their lungs. Barely visible behind their mask's visor, her glowing magenta-violet eyes were wide with raw, shaking terror. 

 

For a couple seconds, Raika's panic overrode their discipline and Ahri received a wave of flurried, panicked thoughts and haunted images. The smell of flames filled his nostrils. The smell of acrid, poisonous blood, the limb-shaking terror of someone who has just defeated their attacker but whose fear-frozen mind has yet to process the absence of danger. 

 

The near certain feeling that there will never be such a thing as safety again. That one's own feeble powers are not, would never be, enough to prevent this from happening all over again.

 

The catch snapped shut, the shaking Menti's haunted gaze boring into the back of Ahri's head. The idea that their panic might have been detectable to their fellow Dasaka served only to stoke the flames of their crippling fear.

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @The UltimoScorp

Edited by Lady Takanuva
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Whatever mountain you are climbing, you can do this.

                                       BZPRPG character masterpost

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                      "Just promise me something... don't let me go."

 

 

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IC: Suzume - Sado Streets

Ever since her subconscious mind had picked up the peculiarities that had magnified over the past few weeks and culminated with her epiphany in the streets moments ago, Suzume had been swept around in a cycle of fear and confusion. Now was no exception, the realization that she stood alone on one street corner, with a gaggle of Menti opposite her on the other. It was the conception of, through their separation, that she was alone and that street was otherwise empty, that stuck the biggest chord. A primal part of her brain cried ‘danger!’

“I- I… uh…” she stammered, taking a step back, cycling though fear and confusion yet again. “I went to go get breakfast and… um… there was nobody around, maybe it was too early in the morning or a holiday or… or something like that.”

OOC: @Mel

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IC: Ageru Shiki (Dastana Republic Odaiba Encampment - Fort Kizuno)

I swing through the air, loosing a breath through the nose as the bokken strikes the ribcage I see in my mind's eye.

In the end, I didn't jump the gun on manifestation, even though I honestly would have any other evening— knowing the stakes, the eyes that would fall upon me, I figured it was the smarter choice to wait, and conserve my focus and brainpower. A girl's only got so much, and in spite of being eager, I didn't want to risk running myself ragged before I got any of that vaunted one on one time at all.

"It's going, Toroshu-dono."

I respond pretty classlessly as I allow the follow through to carry me into another downward chop, my wooden sword rising and falling like the foamy waves that crash against the coast, so far from here that you'd only catch wind of them by straining your senses. It's clearly me filling time— my words and actions both. I know that in calling out to the root of my training's issues, everything else feels like dodging the issue. Maybe she thinks I'm embarrassed.

I guess she wouldn't be entirely wrong if that were the case, but as I'm not one of our five poor Willhammers, her only thoughts that I'm privy to are those she chose to broadcast. Until that point, I'm voice for voice with her. I guess that's actually something that could help—

I've been through these form drills so many times, they fall naturally into a cadence of breath for me as the movements coincide. Inhaling on the subtle steps and pivots our school of swordsmanship hammers home from the beginning to carry the practitioner into dominant angles over the opponent, exhaling on strikes for proper power, force, and control— I knew the rhythm well enough that I was pretty comfortable speaking in it.

A thing that spoke to my educational issues, at the very least, also spoke to my conditioning. I don't often get that much out of it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." I reply after a moment, my bokken drawing into a guard near my rear brow, tip pointed at my foe. Ko Gasumi no Kamae in standard parlance, but our scrolls gloss it into "Hewing Scythe that Steps Past Sprouts"— it's about the spacing and position of strikes that come from it, more than describing the stance's imagery. Gethseru-Toroshu had a pretty process-based naming sense, I guess. Anyone could learn the guards as a picture. Ageru learned them as stems. "I spoke disrespectfully."

I step out at an angle as my blade whips around into a same-side diagonal cut through the shadow's collarbone, or down upon a staff held across. Maybe. I should probably transpose Rahkshi into this, at some point.

"I'm working through the kata right now, as you can see— I'm used to it, since Viitkha-renshi always wanted to start us drilling the muscle memory while our minds were still fresh and ready to learn mechanics. It helps me get my focus together, too."

Starting the breathing control, getting my brain melding around the blade, the work pushing away extraneous, unrelated thoughts. There's a lot this kind of warmup has going for it, in my view.

Not in the least that it left me more time to pool my life force into my mental strength.

I need that time to prepare my mind for becoming my Mind. 

 

helo frens

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[Hanaloi, Observatory Entrance(Fanai/NPC)]

Mari sighed, rubbing her temples.
“Look, I don’t want to leave this island infested with Rakshi and…whatever that thing in the caves was.   However, we’re an exploratory mission—we’re hardly built to handle the kind of threat that you’re dealing with already.”

::Explain what we found at the observatory:: she sent to Somei.  ::Maybe once they have a better idea of what they are facing—and once their Toroshu has returned—we can come up with a plan.  If they truly think it hopeless, we’ll take some minimal lumber, enough at least to restore Toroshu Morie’s baubles, and then leave.  I’d say we return later with more muscle, but I don’t think the war council or the Kaazi will like that.::

Fanai’s expression did not change, and Askha had only the seconds of mental silence to tell her that Fanai was considering her words.

::I believe I can guide you back to yourself, just as I could guide you towards a state of mental emptiness.  However, if you truly fear loosing yourself, I can understand.   The other option is that we could exchange masks.::
OOC: @Keeper of Kraata


[Hanaloi, Forest (NPC)]
“Well met, Caana,” said Semeraed, clearly the more diplomatic of the two, because no sooner had the words left her mouth than her companion blurted out, “where did you get those weapons?”

The koshi zrupgar put a hand near Falki’s elbow, a soft touch all that was needed to convey a warning, but the smaller dashi squeezed her hand back, undaunted, as if to reassure her.
OOC:  @Goose


[Sado, Streets(Morie)]
Morie could have easily scanned this child’s mind to ascertain the truth of her statements, but she didn’t need to be a willhammer to tell she was obfuscating something.

“Sado,” she said, icily calm, “is under siege.  It has been for the last six weeks.   I assume you have not gone outside since before this attack occurred, Daikura Suzume.”  She fixed the young menti with her iron stare.  “Is that correct?”
OOC: @Perp

Edited by Mel
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There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

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IC: Caana (Hanaloi, Forest)

Caana smiled, warmly. The Dashi’s enthusiasm was charming.

“They are – were – family heirlooms. To hear them tell it, the Tonfa were carved from the wings of dragons, and the armour harvested from their scales.” The Ronin’s tone betrayed her skepticism; neither looked anything like they had come from a Kanohi Dragon. “The staff, on the other hand, I claimed from a defeated Rahkshi.”

OOC: @Mel @Keeper of Kraata

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[BZPRPG PROFILES]

Nikarra - Kaelynn - Ronan - Muir - Donal Aerus - Montague - Kira - KouraLearu - Alteora - Fuacht - Caana Nessen - Merrill

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IC: Askha & Somei - Hanaloi Observatory

"Jahagir," Somei corrected Mari. "Hambra is their Jahagir." At the mention of their leader, Riko and their compatriot turned, and Somei approached them. "Riko, a small creature attacked us in the Observatory; have you seen anything like it?" Accompanying her words, Somei used her Sighteye to create a clearly illusionary version of the slug in midair. "Dastana Mari says that it had a hint of the same vile thoughts that the Rahkshi possess; it likely is another servant of Zataka."

Riko examined the illusion. "Hmm... after we managed to kill the Demons that had laid waste to our settlement, we were taking them apart for armor. It looks like one of the soft squishy parts in their spine. We thought it was a vital organ; they stop moving if you can penetrate that area. But we haven't seen them, uh... out and about. I can ask the Koshi Zrupgar, but they report anything out of the ordinary. It's how we found you girls so fast."

Somei sighed. "Thank you. As for leaving... I have the tools I need. Not to make new carvings, but to restore hers. But I am not leaving my home, our home, while hope remains. And certainly not when our closest allies remain here alone." She'd already lost her daughter because she hadn't been there for her; she wasn't going to risk losing the Kaazi now.

Askha had been silently considering Fanai's offer. She decided that she could do it; she would trust. She caught Fanai's gaze, and nodded once. .:Next time, we'll be ready.:. As the nominal Mashtet lead on the expedition, Askha felt she had a duty to speak up. "As is, we're outmatched. But Zataka's forces are definitely up to something here, and I'm worried it might be too late when our new overlords have some forces free to scour Hanaloi."

The Mashtet glanced at the horizon through the trees. "Anyway, we should figure things out soon. Sunset will be soon.

 

IC: Hambra - Hanaloi Forest

A smile crept onto the Jahagir's face; it clashed with her stern demeanor, prodigious height, and fearsome rahkshi-scrap armor. "If you two are serving as envoys, I'd like for you to join us; I am taking Caana to meet with the other mainlander expedition to the north." She pulled her Rahkshi trident from the ground and rested it on her shoulder, glancing at the sky between the trees. "The sun is hanging low in the sky; we shouldn't be out at night, it is the invaders' time."

OOC: @Mel @Goose ; Ahri and Vazaria's new friends post coming later

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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IC: Caana (Hanaloi, Forest)

“Mm.” Caana looked thoughtful again, perhaps even concerned. “I am used to the cover of night as my ally, but I do not know your forests. I will defer to your expertise; please, lead on.”

OOC: @Keeper of Kraata @Mel

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[BZPRPG PROFILES]

Nikarra - Kaelynn - Ronan - Muir - Donal Aerus - Montague - Kira - KouraLearu - Alteora - Fuacht - Caana Nessen - Merrill

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IC: NPCs - Mashtet Fortress

The kraata flattened its segments in response to being touched, but did not otherwise react. After several moments, the slug seemed to have what it wanted before slithering off. Several of the other revived kraata inspected Vazaria before slithering off. They all conspicuously avoided the light cast by the setting sun streaming in through the windows. It was almost... peaceful. Vazaria used the time to put on her scavenged armor; it was much higher quality than her previous set, and once she got around to properly fitting it, almost as mobile as her previous set, but the lacquer and crystal lamellar was much more protecting, with significant shoulder and thigh protection. As it had been taken from its host, it had lost its color. But as she put on the now unadorned helmet, the appearance began to change.

Momentary panic gripped the fallen Menti as the armor erupted into flames. But there was no pain, no heat; more illusions. Then Vazaria realized these flames matched those of her Soulsword. And the flames were not formless, they formed... feathers? Finally, the helmet was no longer a simple headpiece: projected from it was a cruelly curved beak framing her face. An epithet that one of the hated Imperial aristocrats had spat at her as a curse reflected in her mind:

Vulture.

She didn't have much time to look over the transformed armor before she heard a noise similar to someone using a Kualsi; she turned, and by the Quick Healing rahkshi stood two more sons of Zataka she had not yet seen, one blue and green clutching a glowing staff and one blue and silver, bearing several wounds. The Quick Healing rahkshi finished on the kraata it worked on, it turned to its wounded brother; as it worked on its wounds, the revived kraata, along with several other of the newly awakened slugs, crawled onto the other rahkshi before it teleported away. The entire transaction was fast and emotionless.

The doors creaked open; it was the scarred rahkshi that had been standing vigil outside. Once again, Vazaria felt an alien mind touching hers - but this time, she felt thoughts that were not her own.

High up, hiding. Voices. Prey. It slithered through the warped wood; there were four below. But one was close enough.

"Mari, are we going to need to make contact with that band of Taajar that camped out along the south edge of the island? If your Toroshu wants lumber, there's only so much the Saihoko and us can do. "

Prey, close. Infect...

The memories ended midway through the drop with the flash of a Soulsword. Meeting Vazaria's eyes, it drew looked off into nothingness; North, she realized. Instead of returning to its vigil, it instead let several of the kraata latch on before going to a window and staring at the horizon; the sun would soon set. The newcomer Rahkshi, now healed, picked up several kraata and placed it on its own body, even grabbing one off the ceiling with something akin to Mindarm. Several of the kraata flocked to Vazaria, crawling up and nestling themselves into the crevices in her armor.

The sun set soon.

 

IC: Ahri - Abandoned Village, Oki Coastline

"Raika?" Ahri turned around when the bombardment of fear began. Her body was in front of them, but their mind was clearly in a far, far worse place.

"Raika! Listen to me, you're safe, I'm right here!"

The Menti grabbed the younger Dasaka's hand and squeezed. "I'm right here."

OOC: @Nato G @Lady Takanuva

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The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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IC: Vazaria – Mashtet Fortress

As Vazaria donned the armour and its illusions came to life, she marvelled in the irony. She normally held such hate for illusions, the way they were used to lie and deceive, but the illusions imbued in this armour were telling her truth in ways that she could never give voice to.  

This was who she was. An avenging angel, ablaze with rage and determination. A carrion creature, eager to pick clean the bones of what had once been.

And it was nearly time to begin.

She felt the brush of the scarred Rahkshi’s thoughts as it shared the fallen kraata’s final memory. The voice wasn’t one she recognised, but the words certainly had meaning. Lumber? An unbidden laugh escaped her lips. They came all this way for firewood?

They weren’t going to like what they found instead.

She allowed the kraata to crawl up her body and nestle in her armour as she joined the Rahkshi waiting by the window. There was no need for words now; it was clear what the creatures wanted, and what they were waiting for.

She was eager to join them in their hunt.

@Keeper of Kraata

Edited by Nato G
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BZPRPG Mercenary Organisation - Description - History - Base

BZPRPG Characters - Minnorak, Kain, T'harrak, Savis, Vazaria, Lash

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IC: Yoka - Abandoned Oki Village

The lone, scarred, and tattered Ronin didn't look at the people inspecting the village. She didn't want to give her position away by the glow of her eyes or heart, and she didn't need to anyway. Ikyazu was looking, and she would tell her all she needed to know.

「They appear harmless,」she said.「But I don't need our body to smell their fear.」

Yoka nodded. An abandoned village was always a place of fear. The fear of not knowing what had caused it to be this way. Combined with the off-putting mix of the familiar with the unfamiliar, the uncanny. Closing her eyes, she found each of their souls and probed them gently with her Will, learning only what she needed to. As her mind glided across that of the individual known as Ahri, she detected the panic.

"One is panicking," she whispered. "Why?"

Ikyazu was silent for a moment. Yoka knew she had gone to look. The next she heard her was the answer.「Nothing. There is nothing there.」

"A panic attack," she whispered softly. She should have felt pity, but she only felt numb. So many had been scarred mentally in recent days, herself included.

「Let us stay here for a moment and allow her to calm down before adding to the confusion.」

Yoka nodded and waited.

@Keeper of Kraata@Lady Takanuva@The UltimoScorp

OoC: Say hello to my little friend! Yoka/Ikyazu is inside one of the buildings they haven't checked, and has been quietly keeping tabs on them as they wander around. Ikyazu is in Iden spirit form, though hers isn't on the same plane as Menti abilities, so her "voice" doesn't come out as Ideatalk, and only Iden and Rode wearers can hear her. Similarly, she can't hear Ideatalk either, hence why Yoka is whispering. Feel free to call them out if someone has the ability to do so, otherwise they'll step out when they're ready.

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IC: Raika, the prision of memory

 

The world around the Menti was a blur. They could barely feel their body, and when Ahri took their hand a small, hoarse noise escaped their throat and another momentary wave of fear washed past their barrier into the elder warrior's mind.

 

Fighting.

 

Raika had never wanted to fight. Never wanted to hurt.

 

Never wanted to hear the wail of another being witnessing their beloved skewered through by what appeared to be the air itself. Never wanted to stare down the maw of madness and, feeling the instincts of the Wraith coiling through the maddening terror  drag their hand into stabbing into the fleshy insides of the… thing… again and again and again and again and againandagainandagainandagainand…

 

They struggled like a trapped rahi for a moment, until the sight of Ahri standing before them wove its way through the seething nightmares of their tortured mind.

 

For a moment, a single eddy in the storm of their mind, they felt an alien sense of… relief. They wanted to lunge forward, hold tight onto Ahri, not to feel so desperately, achingly alone anymore. 

 

In that moment Raika was a Dashi once more, small and shaking before a wall of nightmares that threatened to swallow them whole. Aching for someone to wrap them close and fight back the darkness.

 

Then they realized the thoughts going through their own mind. This was not supposed to be their protector. Ahri's memories were shattered. They had promised to keep him safe. Not the other way around.

 

Shame burned through the fear, until they felt bile and the taste of the soup from that morning rising in their now sore throat.

Rather than offering clarity, it instead made their thoughts swirl in an entire different direction.

 

.:Sorry i'm sorry it's just you i panicked i'm weak i can't fight it i can't fight i can't i can't it will come it will kill me it will kill you and i will see you die a thousand before i do you'll die i'll die die alone afraid oh zuto nui no no no nononononononononononononono…:.

 

Half-articulated thoughts washed through Ahri's head along with the ideatalk. Overwhelmingly, the fear had been replaced with something much more potent: gut-curdling, disgusted shame.

OOC: @ARROW404 @Keeper of Kraata @The UltimoScorp

Hello, Ikyazu! Excited for the meeting!

Edited by Lady Takanuva

Whatever mountain you are climbing, you can do this.

                                       BZPRPG character masterpost

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                      "Just promise me something... don't let me go."

 

 

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