BZPRPG - Westside Zakaz

[Techn0geist]

IC: Sohmak - Fleeing The Battle of Fort Garsi

Safety in numbers, another harsh lesson for the brawler to learn. So used to standing alone at the top, punching down any who would challenge his rank. And yet, so glad he was to be among this motley crew when the hill burst forth with spires of stone and steel.

He couldn't find it in himself to spare a thought for their proud warlord. His loyalty to Zanakra could barely be called that, an alliance of immediate convenience at most; Sohmak didn't get shot by a trigger-happy warlord, Zanakra had some muscle to bring to her ill-conceived raid (for the lot of good that did them all).

The fog would dissuade their pursuers for a few vital moments, moments that required decisive action. Decisiveness Sohmak was not capable of in these conditions, in the stubborn city mindset that each rumble and explosion was gradually shaking loose from his brain.

T'harrak may not have had much of a plan past "run away", but her vested interest in keeping them all alive was winning a lot more loyalty from the Slugger than the warlord of Razorfish;Vaa ever did.

"Boss, where to now?" he blurted at the tinkerer, trying with all his might not to look or sound scared out of his wits and just barely making the mark.

 

OOC: @Nato G

[Nato G]

IC: T’harrak – Fleeing Fort Garsi

The earth quaked and quavered underfoot as T’harrak ran. She glanced behind her for a moment, her x-ray vision piercing the fog to reveal the imposing spires of stone and tangles of snaring steel spearing up out of the hillside. She could see the dim silhouettes of Skakdi impaled upon some of them, squirming and screaming and raining liquid crimson down onto the dirt.

In that momentary glance, she couldn’t tell if the dead and dying were friend or foe. In all likelihood, it was a mix of both; Ipsudir's vague announcement over the speaker had offered little time for Fort Garsi’s forces to react or get out of the way. The implications of the horrific scene felt T’harrak with a new kind of terror.

Ipsudir could have deployed the collapsing hillsides or stone spikes as soon as Zanakra’s forces had arrived, but she’d instead sent out her full force of bikes and rahi riders, deploying trap after trap with her own warriors caught in the crossfire. She’d been toying with them from the start. This was a warlord who had no regard for her own people or resources, who’d chosen prolonged bloodshed over efficiently dispatching her enemies.

Jojax… Sohmak… T’harrak… even Zanakra herself… none of them had been ready to face an enemy this ruthless, dispassionate, and well-prepared.

"Boss, where to now?" 

The voice was familiar, but the title wasn’t, and it took T’harrak a few moments to realise that Sohmak was directing the question at her. Boss? No… I’m not… don’t…

“Back the way we came,” she blurted out, saving her protests for later, “Back to the boats. Back home.”

If they made it that far… Between the fog and the sea of stone spikes now behind them, she hoped any remaining snipers wouldn’t have clear sightlines on the retreating group. But in the chaos, she’d completely lost track of the two rahi riders, and there was no telling if they or anyone else were planning to pursue.

@Techn0geist @ARROW404 @Sparticus147 @Mel

Edited February 9, 2023 by Nato G

[ARROW404]

IC: Gashril and the Tahtorak crew - Fort Garsi warzone

Yavonna abandoned all hope the Nakihl could have survived that. "It's over Miraule," she told her earth-aligned partner.

Gashril agreed with a nod. "Even if he survived that, there's no getting him out now." She grunted in frustration. She'd wanted to get a chance to speak one on one with them. Now it seemed that would never happen.

By her side, Sohmak designated T'harrak the crew's new leader. She couldn't complain, she'd already proven to have more sense than their old one- and now stood alive because of it. Living proof the foolhardy Skak:Dii way would one day eat itself alive, she thought. Their new leader made a choice. Gashril spared the open door of the fortress a glance, but shook her head. Why trust someone who offered peace, then let their underlings pick off the ones who had surrendered but simply didn't leave quick enough?

"Agreed," she echoed T'harrak's sentiment, and the rest of the group fell into step with her.

"The ride back is going to be light," Okulmo commented. Gashril allowed herself a small sigh of relief at hearing his voice. He was key to the group, and he had survived. The $$$$ show was over, and they had paid steeply for it, but all was not lost.

Speaking of... She peered through the mist and located Mandokk, the gravity-aligned member of the crew. Quietly, she fell into step beside him and spoke in a hushed tone.

...

As the mist slowly drifted along and away from the battlefield, one last figure stood, where the rest had gone, walking slowly toward the open door of the fortress, his weapon held over his head in surrender. His colors gave away his element- gravity. He walked slowly, cautiously, ready to bolt at the first sign of treachery.

@Techn0geist@Nato G@Sparticus147@Mel

Edited February 9, 2023 by ARROW404

[Visaru]

IC | Kirik - Fort Garsi's Blasted Slopes

Kirik let his eye beams dissipate as he felt the sweet bloody satisfaction of his bladed knife-hand sinking itself into Zanakra’s shoulder, just in time to see her massive jet-powered hammer slam itself into his chest. As it did, part through luck and part through his lightning fast reflexes, the hammer passed through his half solidified electro-blade, which sunk a blast of electricity into the metal hammer. Kirik didn’t find out if it damaged the rockets or Zanakra, because suddenly he felt the electricity course through him too, a tingling feeling to add some spice to the excruciating bludgeoning crunch of the hammer which took him off his feet and tossed him through the air. 

Kirik bounced and rolled along the dust, uphill toward the fort, while the hillside exploded on either side of him. As the smoke cleared and Ipsudir’s taunts echoed across the hillside, he lay limp, the wind knocked out of his lungs, his whole body tensed tight from being electrocuted and smashed like a cockroach. But like a cockroach, Kirik was tough, and he’d been through worse, so after a moment he managed to suck in a deep, sharply painful heave of air. He looked around, vision swimming. The battle looked to be over. The Garsi fort had ejected its enemies. All but one…

Although Kirk was in no shape to continue fighting, he propped himself up on one of his robotic arms (the other appeared to be broken) and snarled at Zanakra. Despite his mad desire for glory in battle, there was a significant part of Kirik that hoped she’d run, knowing it was the only way they’d both make it out of this alive. But he if he backed down now, he’d lose his honor. If Zanakra was up for it, he’d have to keep fighting, even if it killed him. 

For now, all he could manage was to glare at her and let out snarling grunts as he tried to heave air into his damaged chest. 

OOC @Snelly the Fort Garsi crew, and whomever else is still around

[Smudge8]

IC: Jojax-Fort Garsi

The earth beneeth Jojax suddenly birst to life, shooting Jojax high into the air. Jojax screamed obcenities all the way up. When the pillar jerked to a stop Jojax was tossed in the air, and landed back on top of the pillar with a thud. She groaned and got back to her feet. From up here she could survey the entire battlefield, and it wasn't pretty, a thick mist obscured most of the area, large stone spikes jutting out of the ground. It was a mess of battle cries and screams of pain. This battle was nothing like the sarke ring. 

"######################## I'm outta here!" With her enhanced streingth she jumped as far away from the pillar as she could, decending onto the ground below. 

Edited February 19, 2023 by Smudge8

[Ghosthands]

On 2/5/2023 at 5:09 PM, a goose said:

"Aren't you a little early, Rhuvok? There's still actual work to be done here."

 

IC (Broker NPC: Rhuvok) [Burning Steppes Outskirts]

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

[Geardirector]

IC: Krex (Fort Garsi Battle)

It was at this point, that things changed a bit for the hopeful escapees. Krex didn't particularly appreciate the fact that her firepower had been blunted. She was running out of ways to be effective up on the wall.

So it was to her eternal delight and to the presumed horror and dismay of the beaten enemy when they heard the whirr of an engine.

Krex barreled out of the exit to the fort on two wheels, take a wide turn to avoid the torn-up and churned area of the battlefield that represented the successful defense. The speed of her bike would be more than enough to make up for that.

"Get your scrawny asses out of here already, before I blast you all to the steps of Kino-Ur" she bellowed after skidding to a stop next to a mound, halfway obscured by it. She was weighing a grenade in her hand.

OOC: @Smudge8 @Snelly @Mel @Visaru @ARROW404 @Techn0geist @Sparticus147 @Nato G

Just an approach and a threat for now. Krex should be considered within reach, but slightly covered.

Edited February 25, 2023 by Geardirector

[Techn0geist]

IC: Sohmak - Fleeing The Battle of Fort Garsi

Sohmak was an idiot but he was no fool. The look in T'harrak's eyes betrayed her, told him that dubbing her their new warlord was the last thing she needed weighing her down. He felt ashamed... and suddenly, determined, to make right. A discussion to be had back at the fortress, if they made it that far.

As their cover of fog drifted away from the scarred terrain, and the forces of Razorfish;Vaa with it, the Sonic Striker came to a realisation.

"Where's Jojax?" Sohmak queried in a hushed but harsh tone. "And..." he paused, realising he never learned the disquieting Nahikl's name. He shook his head "Did they make it out?"

His answer came with a raging cry and a dull thud. He looked back and peered through the edge of the mist, to a bruised, bloodied and battered purple Skakdi some distance away from them... and the motorcycle-straddling Krex not much farther away from her. He was unsure if the Garsi warrior had noticed Jojax's descent.

The brawler nearly called out to his teeth-clenched sister-in-arms but bit his tongue. He growled an obscenity beneath his breath before turning to speak to the rest of the ragtag group. "We gotta go back. She's still got breath in 'er'."

 

OOC: @Nato G @Smudge8 @ARROW404

[Nato G]

IC: T’harrak – Fleeing Fort Garsi

"We gotta go back. She's still got breath in 'er'."

T’harrak stumbled as if she’d been shoved, the insane suggestion striking her with all the force of a physical blow. She glanced back behind her, spotting the figure Sohmak was referring to. Jojax, stooped on the edge of the battlefield, battered but still alive.

But she also saw one of Fort Garsi’s riders parked by a mound beyond the spikes. She was hurling words their way, and the grenade in her hand made it all too clear what she’d be throwing next if they doubled back. She was alone for now, but there were still snipers out there somewhere, and other Fort Garsi survivors were making their way through the spikes. There were probably even more warriors still waiting inside the Fort, fresh and ready to fight.

The Fort Razorfish group had already lost or left behind so many today. Zanakra, Seeker, Ahuum, others whose names T'harrak had never known. And they would lose a lot more if they threw away their one clear chance for escape to go back for just one person.  

“I’m sorry,” T’harrak said, tears of shame shining in her eyes, “Her life isn’t worth all of ours.”

And then she kept running.

 

@Techn0geist @ARROW404 @Smudge8 @Mel

[Snelly]

IC: Zanakra - Fort Garsi -

Zanakra knew her chances of survival were dwindling, her 'followers' were either dead or had turned tail and ran, she was surrounded on all sides by enemies, and she was currently bleeding from her shoulder. To top it off it seemed the punk's blades were electrified, which had given Zanakra a nice little zap to boot when their weapons had collided.

It went without saying things weren't looking good. Perhaps even Zanakra would admit that charging into this fortress as she had done was not her brightest move. Though right now, that didn't matter. She was a warrior above all else, she would not disgrace herself by retreating, or surrendering and pleading for her life. The very thought was sickening. 

No, she would fight till she could no longer move. What happened after that was up to Irnakk:Dii.

"You've fought well..." Zanakra finally said between labored breaths. They'd been glaring at each other for what seemed like an eternity now, gathering what strength they could. Without warning, Zanakra raised her hammer up, her wounded shoulder protested as it bleed a little faster in protest, but Zanakra didn't stop. She slammed the hammer into the ground, the weapon's power creating a shockwave that spread out towards Kirik. "...but it's over, I'm going to reach your fortress even if it's the last thing I do." 

If Kirik was smart he'd stay down once the shockwave hit him, no one would blame him if he didn't get back up. Though that really depended on what sort of Skadki he was. Zanakra would respect his decision either way.

OOC:  @ARROW404 @Smudge8 @Nato G @Zeal @Sparticus147@Mel @Geardirector@Visaru

 

Edited March 30, 2023 by Snelly

[ARROW404]

On 3/28/2023 at 4:09 AM, Nato G said:

IC: T’harrak – Fleeing Fort Garsi

"We gotta go back. She's still got breath in 'er'."

T’harrak stumbled as if she’d been shoved, the insane suggestion striking her with all the force of a physical blow. She glanced back behind her, spotting the figure Sohmak was referring to. Jojax, stooped on the edge of the battlefield, battered but still alive.

But she also saw one of Fort Garsi’s riders parked by a mound beyond the spikes. She was hurling words their way, and the grenade in her hand made it all too clear what she’d be throwing next if they doubled back. She was alone for now, but there were still snipers out there somewhere, and other Fort Garsi survivors were making their way through the spikes. There were probably even more warriors still waiting inside the Fort, fresh and ready to fight.

The Fort Razorfish group had already lost or left behind so many today. Zanakra, Seeker, Ahuum, others whose names T'harrak had never known. And they would lose a lot more if they threw away their one clear chance for escape to go back for just one person.  

“I’m sorry,” T’harrak said, tears of shame shining in her eyes, “Her life isn’t worth all of ours.”

And then she kept running.

 

@Techn0geist @ARROW404 @Smudge8 @Mel

IC: Gashril - Fleeing Fort Garsi

She spared Jojax a glance as the fog swelled, soon obscuring her from view. "She could still make it out," she thought to herself. "Get to the edge of the mist, and follow." Then she shrugged dismissively. "If not, well... She should have known better than to jump right into the middle like that." The last part she left unsaid- that if Jojax died, it was her own **** fault.

"A wise decision, T'harrak," she said, following- though not at a full run. She didn't have enough breath in her lungs for that just yet, and to be honest, she wanted to give Jojax something of a fighting chance to catch up. Mindless hot blood had its uses. To her side, she caught an inquisitive glance from Okulmo. She knew what he was thinking. Do we take Fort Razorfish for ourselves now?

She shook her head and he looked ahead, taking the message without question. Taking over the fort had never been the plan, after all, and the loss of Zanakra hadn't changed that. Of course, it wasn't out of the question, but she saw no reason to do it either.

[Visaru]

IC

On 3/30/2023 at 11:39 AM, Snelly said:

IC: Zanakra - Fort Garsi -

"You've fought well..." Zanakra finally said between labored breaths. They'd been glaring at each other for what seemed like an eternity now, gathering what strength they could. Without warning, Zanakra raised her hammer up, her wounded shoulder protested as it bleed a little faster in protest, but Zanakra didn't stop. She slammed the hammer into the ground, the weapon's power creating a shockwave that spread out towards Kirik. "...but it's over, I'm going to reach your fortress even if it's the last thing I do." 

Sure enough, the shockwave was powerful enough to break the tenuous grasp Kirik had on his balance and send him face first into the dirt yet again. He lay on the ground, one more sprawled broken body on the blasted battlefield.

But Kirik was still drawing breath, and he had made a promise to the gods that until that stopped happening, he wouldn’t let the fight pass him by.

So he achingly dug his robotic arm’s bladed tip into the dirt, and then writhed and forced himself onto his knees, before pulling himself painfully to his unsteady feet. His other metallic arm dangled broken at his side as he reactivated his electro-blade with his bruised right arm and raised it to the sky.

“Then let it be the last thing you do!!” He howled, and blasted laser vision at his foe, ready to see which one of them would be riding with their ancestors tonight. 

[Techn0geist]

IC: Sohmak - Fleeing The Battle of Fort Garsi

On 3/28/2023 at 3:09 PM, Nato G said:

“I’m sorry. Her life isn’t worth all of ours.”

The bruiser began to jog after the geek, a halfhearted few steps before again slowing to a halt. He looked over his shoulder, again trying to see beyond the mist.

Jojax was a braggart, the worst kind of braggart; one who hadn't earned it yet. Bloodline and birthright meant jack in Sarke. But she'd courage to step into the ring all the same, courage to fight and claim that right to proclaim her glory and the glory of her Ancestors. And further, courage to take that fire into the real world, standing on the enemy side of their barricade and daring the warriors of Fortress Garsi to cross her. Sohmak couldn't quite profess to have that kind of mettle.

But for the wrestler to make it back alive, he may have to. Sohmak gulped, and hesitantly activated his Thermal Vision to see exact numbers. The violently hot Krex seemed to be the only one overlooking their retreat. And there, his sister-in-arms, warm rivulets leeching into the cold soil around her. He shook off nausea as his sight returned to normal.

"T'harrak," he spoke in a grave tone, "you trust 'er. Trust me to get 'er out of this mess."

Sohmak faced the rest of the crew and barked "Stay long as you can, any heat and you scram." He turned now to the battlefield. "I don't make it back, it's been far from a pleasure." A bitter grimace, and the Spineless Slugger charged out, disappearing from Razorfish;Vaa's view.

Outside their cloud-cover, Sohmak now felt more exposed than before he'd entered it. The crew had made good ground back towards their boat; sounds of war still echoed over the landscape, but far from where he stood now. He knew stealth would be a tall ask with the heavy exo-gauntlets he wore, but still he scrabbled through and snuck behind what terrain he could on his approach to Jojax's position, praying it was enough to break Krex's line-of-sight.

 

OOC: @Nato G @ARROW404 @Smudge8 @Geardirector

Edited June 23, 2023 by Techn0geist

[Mel]

CW: torture, both shown and implied

[Fort Garsi, Environs (Ipsudir/NPC)]
The would-be surrenderer was watching for signs.

He didn’t get any.

The harpoon that Ipsudir carried was not, in terms of the technological wonders that Zakaz could produce, a very impressive weapon.   But it did not need to be—the combination of well-oiled spring loaded mechanisms and sturdy barbed blade was fast and silent and gruesome in its work—the work of pain.   It suited her.

The blade streaked out of the yawning darkness of the entrance and stuck fast in the gap of armor under an armpit, embedding itself deep.   Before his brain could process any of the terrible, ripping, wrenching pain Ipsudir had yanked him off his feet.   The cranking mechanism in her weapon dragged him slowly, agonizingly toward the shaded entrance, but Ipsudir closed the rest of the distance herself, placing a foot on the prone warriors chest, pressing down as she drove the now compact harpoon deeper.

“Surrender?”

Her voice started soft, almost a purr, but it quickly rose in volume and intensity.   “You come to my land, try to conquer my fortress, and when it turns belly side up you want me to invite you in for tea and crackers?”

She twisted, so virulently that she sent the rifle slung across her back swinging, and the skakdi cried out as bloody foam spilled from his lips.   “That ain’t how it works around here, sweetie.”

She pointed at where Zenakra and Kirik were pummeling each other.  “There, is where you should be.   Such a fool, but at least she will die with honor.   I will make sure her name is remembered.” With one last twist, she ripped out the weapon and spit on the skakdi’s face.   Her eyes remained focused on the melee down the hill as she kicked him again for good measure.   “Take this heu:nii to the dungeons,” she said, without turning toward her warriors at her her back.  “Make sure he lives for as long as possible.”

—

Kerigor’s X-ray vision pierced through the fog, but he had stopped shooting once the group had achieved range—anyone brave enough to charge the fortress was dead already, and powder was after all, expensive.   While scanning the remains of the battlefield, however, he caught the glint of unfamiliar copper.

Grinning, he tapped his partner’s currently-holstered impact crystal launcher.   “Shall we bring back a little bauble for the Lady?”

OOC: @Geardirector @Techn0geist @ARROW404 @Visaru @Snelly

Edited July 4, 2023 by Mel

[Smudge8]

IC:Jojax-Fort Garsi

Jojax hit the ground with a loud thud, barely avoiding various projectiles being fired at her. She started pulling herself off of the ground when suddenly, there was the loud whirring of an engine as something came barreling out of the battle towards Jojax. In an instant, she was overcome by an animalistic fear. She tried to run, but her Mask was still active, causing her to go careening foreward, smashing into rocks and other obstacles, but she was making headway. 

Then she hit a different kind of wall. The various gizmos attached to her mask dimmed, and the device exacted its toll. Sapped of all her streingth Jojax collapsed onto her hands and knees panting. No longer able to run. 

The rider skidded to a halt less than a dozen bio away and began to shout, "Get your scrawny asses out of here already, before I blast you all to the steps of Kino-Ur"  Out of breath, Jojax just knelt there and hoped she wouldn't be noticed.

[ARROW404]

On 7/4/2023 at 6:27 AM, Mel said:

CW: torture, both shown and implied

[Fort Garsi, Environs (Ipsudir/NPC)]
The would-be surrenderer was watching for signs.

He didn’t get any.

The harpoon that Ipsudir carried was not, in terms of the technological wonders that Zakaz could produce, a very impressive weapon.   But it did not need to be—the combination of well-oiled spring loaded mechanisms and sturdy barbed blade was fast and silent and gruesome in its work—the work of pain.   It suited her.

The blade streaked out of the yawning darkness of the entrance and stuck fast in the gap of armor under an armpit, embedding itself deep.   Before his brain could process any of the terrible, ripping, wrenching pain Ipsudir had yanked him off his feet.   The cranking mechanism in her weapon dragged him slowly, agonizingly toward the shaded entrance, but Ipsudir closed the rest of the distance herself, placing a foot on the prone warriors chest, pressing down as she drove the now compact harpoon deeper.

“Surrender?”

Her voice started soft, almost a purr, but it quickly rose in volume and intensity.   “You come to my land, try to conquer my fortress, and when it turns belly side up you want me to invite you in for tea and crackers?”

She twisted, so virulently that she sent the rifle slung across her back swinging, and the skakdi cried out as bloody foam spilled from his lips.   “That ain’t how it works around here, sweetie.”

She pointed at where Zenakra and Kirik were pummeling each other.  “There, is where you should be.   Such a fool, but at least she will die with honor.   I will make sure her name is remembered.” With one last twist, she ripped out the weapon and spit on the skakdi’s face.   Her eyes remained focused on the melee down the hill as she kicked him again for good measure.   “Take this heu:nii to the dungeons,” she said, without turning toward her warriors at her her back.  “Make sure he lives for as long as possible.”

—

Kerigor’s X-ray vision pierced through the fog, but he had stopped shooting once the group had achieved range—anyone brave enough to charge the fortress was dead already, and powder was after all, expensive.   While scanning the remains of the battlefield, however, he caught the glint of unfamiliar copper.

Grinning, he tapped his partner’s currently-holstered impact crystal launcher.   “Shall we bring back a little bauble for the Lady?”

OOC: @Geardirector @Techn0geist @ARROW404 @Visaru @Snelly

IC: Mandokk - Fort Garsi

All of the curse words went through Mandokk's head in the ensuing thirty or so seconds. He had half expected this, but that harpoon had come out so fast... "Figures," he choked out. "Do whatever you want. I'm expendable," he coughed, half snarling, half grinning.

[BBBBalta]

IC: Rezena, Burning Steppes

Not for the first time, Rezena pictured herself screaming across the wastes on a motorbike. Dust and ash billowed in her wake. She roared up to the dig site and dismounted coolly amid the murmurs of respect and admiration of her peers.

Instead, she crossed the Burning Steppes as did all the rest: one foot in front of the other.

...

Her arrival was likewise unimpressive. Though Rezena could hardly blend into any crowd, she was, here, but another slab of hired muscle.

She recognized a few of those present, but none of them she knew very--

Oh. Well, if it wasn't two of her favorite people. In a stride, she was beside them.

"Katha;Vaa? But that was so long ago," she said lightly. "And I seem to recall that it was mostly an accident."

OOC: @a goose@Ghosthands

[BULiK]

IC: Kihr [Burning Steppes, Outskirts]

Kihr hadn't turned to watch Rezena approach. From his perch on the berm, he puffed his cigar while the Kaiakan introduced herself to the other team members. His mechanical breathing continued along at its undisturbed rhythm.

Edited August 14, 2023 by BULiK

[a goose]

IC: Aden (The Burning Steppes)

“Yes, our expert here accidentally prioritised his benefactor’s souvenirs over the preservation of an historical site.” The bitterness in her tone made it abundantly clear that the wound remained fresh, no matter how much time might have passed. “But you're quite right: that was a very long time ago, and we have more immediate concerns.”

OOC: @ all of the dig folks, but @BBBBalta and @Ghosthands in particular 

[Ghosthands]

IC (Broker NPC: Rhuvok) [Burning Steppes digsite]

 

"'Preservation'," Rhuvok scoffed. "This is Zakaz. The present consumes the past and carves the future from its bones. What is useful is taken, digested, put to use. What is not, has no purpose, and so is of no value. This is the natural order of things. There is no room for such...sentimentality for the past."

The Raven's thin lips curled, baring yellowed teeth in a mocking smirk.

"Ah, but then you are a Lesterin. I suppose the past is all you have."

Edited March 13, 2024 by Ghosthands

[BULiK]

IC: Kihr [Burning Steppes, Dig Site]

For the briefest of moments, the mercenary's clockwork lungs creaked with a slightly different resonance, as if a gear had slipped.

Probably nothing. The familiar rhythm returned.

[Rahisaurus]

IC: Zassani [Burning Steppes, Dig Site]    (previous post)

Zassani watched the other team members arguing back and forth. He rolled his eyes, a pained look on his face.

"Gods am I glad I never had the privilege of working with you sorry lot already." He spat the word 'privilege', blackened spittle appearing on his lip, which he wiped on his arm. "Let's just get in, get out, and get paid." 

He turned with a grunt, and plodded through the dust to reach the entrance.

@a goose @NorikSigma @BULiK @BBBBalta @Ghosthands

Edited March 23, 2024 by Rahisaurus

[Ghosthands]

IC (Broker NPC: Rhuvok) [Burning Steppes digsite]

"Indeed, we are wasting time."

Rhuvok shot one last glare in Aden's direction, then turned (accompanied by the usual clinking) to follow Zassani.

The great stone doorway loomed over the group as they approached. When shafts of sunlight managed to slip between the columns of smoke rising from the Steppes and rove over the stone, they set the crystal reliefs in its surface aglitter. The designs became clearer as they came closer: figures of Lesterin (and the occasional subservient Skathi) in a variety of tableaux, surrounded and entwined by snaking successions of the triangular letters favoured by the Lesterin (albeit in an archaic form that made them strange and near-incomprehensible to uneducated eyes). Many of the reliefs showed library-like rooms containing figures seemingly in states of study and contemplation, against backgrounds of shelves stacked with small regular shapes resembling the memory crystal Kalzok had found here previously. At the apex of the door was carved one particularly resplendent figure: a Lesterin crowned in gold, coins spilling from one hand, and a memory crystal in the other. The Lesterin merchant-princes of antiquity were famed for their prosperity; less so for their subtlety.

Rhuvok positioned himself in front of the door, facing the group.

"As I said, the site appears to be very well preserved. The door shows no signs of having been opened since it was sealed..."

The Nakihl cleared his throat, and glanced back at the door with what might have been sheepishness.

"...nor, indeed, any obvious sign of how one might do so. However, I am confident we will find some clue as to how this can be accomplished in these carvings; they most likely contain instructions of some sort, if we can decipher them."

He glanced to a nearby cart stacked with crates, each one painted with a bright red "X".

"Failing that, the Broker has provided us with ample supplies of explosives..."

Edited August 17, 2024 by Ghosthands

[a goose]

IC: Aden (The Burning Steppes)

Aden rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wondered if the Broker even cared about the state in which his souvenirs reached him.

“You’re an idiot, Rhuvok. There’s no need to spend hours decoding this, or blow it up.” She reached into her pack, producing her Mask of Psychometry and affixing it to her face, before approaching Rhuvok and the door. “Let’s see firsthand how our predecessors got this open. May I?”

She gestured at the door behind him.

OOC: @Ghosthands

Edited August 15, 2024 by a goose

[Ghosthands]

IC (Broker NPC: Rhuvok) [Burning Steppes digsite]

Rhuvok scowled, but begrudgingly stepped aside. Much as he disdained the Kanohi masks favoured by the Lesterin, he could not deny that they had their uses. 

[a goose]

IC: Aden (The Burning Steppes)

She looked at the door as she approached, trying to work out what she should expect.

The worst case scenario was that it might be a tomb, and as such was never intended to be reopened once sealed; such opulence as this certainly wouldn't be out of place, if so. However, most of the reliefs depicted what appeared to be some manner of library or repository – which meant this was a resource, and resources were meant to be accessed and used. There would be a way to open this door without falling back on explosives. She had to believe that.

She gently pressed her palm against the door’s surface, closed her eyes, and focused.

Show me what you were.

OOC: @Ghosthands

Edited August 15, 2024 by a goose

[Techn0geist]

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa - One Day Later

The throne above the courtyard sat empty.

Not all the party had made it back to the fortress. Those that did interacted little once they had disembarked, the adrenaline receded. Listless, directionless. Gathering themselves. Some found the wherewithal to wash in the river, cleansing what signs they could of the trial inflicted on them. Others...

 

"The Rift with this."

He abandoned stealth, stood from behind the rubble. The fool stood. Lifted a heavy-clad arm aloft, pointed at the fallen wrestler. Projected.

"We 'eard ya! I'm takin' THIS rotter and we're leavin'!" He grappled for the word to justify his loud folly, eventually it came. "Parley!" It could hardly be described as such, but the terms were set.

He made his cautious, clanking approach towards Jojax, expecting to be blown to the Ancestors by that pretty little grenade any moment.

Sohmak blew up instead.

"This was stupid!" He whirled around to Krex again. His voice carried above the tumult, toward Fort Garsi, and the scrapper made sure of it. "Zanakra is a mad bint who lead us to slaugh'er! You can 'ave 'er!"

He would never know if Krex felt amusement or bemusement in that moment. The Slugger hefted Jojax roughly over his shoulder, having to hold her clumsily between the bulk of the exo-gauntlets. The grenade never came.

 

...others, like Sohmak, sat as they had arrived, covered in bruises and gashes, caked in dust and dried blood. His stomach joined a rumbling chorus.

Instead he digested the previous day. Zanakra's reckless opening salvo. The hillside collapsing down like a great maw closing. The biker hurtling towards his fist. Hounds. Explosions. The biker hurtling towards his fist. Bodies. The biker hurtling towards his fist.

Fortress politics.

When Sohmak's arm lashed out, he was thankful the stone block it annihilated wasn't load-bearing. The great CRACK resounded like a gunshot around the courtyard, a few Skakdi jumping. A twilight breeze whistled through Fortress Razorfish;Vaa's newest window. The Sonic Striker's bellow followed, shot and chaser.

"T'HARRAK!"

He stood, puffing himself up, the Sluggers he wore making this task exponentially easier. He stared at and singled out the geek, his whirring exo-arm now indicating the throne. No, the space behind the throne, away from the courtyard, from prying eye and ear.

A plan had formed, against his will. He injected as much menace into his voice as possible.

"A word."

 

OOC: [tap-tap] Testing, one two, one two.

@Nato G @Geardirector @Smudge8 @Snelly @ARROW404 (are Gashril & co. still with us?)

[Nato G]

IC: T’harrak – Fort Razorfish;Vaa

T’harrak had kept to herself since the return to the Fort. She’d lingered at the beach long enough to wash the dust and blood from her armour, and then spent the rest of the afternoon slumped, huddled at her workbench, absent-mindedly fiddling with the tools in front of her.

At some point she’d fallen asleep, her dreams filled with fresh memories of fire and ferocity. Come morning, the moans and cries hadn’t ceased, enduring in the groans of the wounded recuperating around the Fort. She felt like they were mocking her, just like her neighbours back home had mocked her when she’d left to join a Fort.

They’d been right.

She’d run away. Worse, she’d given the order to run away. Worse still, people had actually listened to her when she’d said it. She didn’t know if that was good or bad, and she was terrified to leave the workshop and face anyone to find out. Was she brave for putting her life before her pride? Or a coward for abandoning Zanakra to her fate? Did the answer even matter? Society on Zakaz only valued strength. History would remember T’harrak as a coward, if it even remembered her at all.

In the end, it wasn’t thirst or hunger that prompted T’harrak to step outside, but the thunderous crack and clatter of shattering stone. She stumbled out of her makeshift workshop, launcher in hand, searching around for the source of the sound. Had Fort Garsi sent someone to finish them off? Had another warband sensed their weakness and made a move to seize the island?

It came as a relief when she instead saw Sohmak in the courtyard, displaced dust still swirling in the air around his upraised, metal-encased hand. But that relief abruptly evaporated when the De-Skakdi's stony stare settled on her and he bellowed her name with a degree of demandingness that rivalled what T'harrak's mother had managed in her worst moods: "T'HARRAK!"

The arm now moved to point deeper into the structure, past the throne. "A word."

"Please is a word," she muttered to herself, slinging her weapon across her back as she made her way towards the direction Sohmak was indicating. Whatever he had to say couldn't possibly be worse than what they'd all endured yesterday... but she still wasn't looking forward to it. 

@Techn0geist

[NorikSigma]

IC: Kalzok (Digsite)

On 3/13/2024 at 5:59 PM, Ghosthands said:

"'Preservation'," Rhuvok scoffed. "This is Zakaz. The present consumes the past and carves the future from its bones. What is useful is taken, digested, put to use. What is not, has no purpose, and so is of no value. This is the natural order of things. There is no room for such...sentimentality for the past."

Kalzok kept his mouth shut- better not to offend the Broker's agents. But suffice to say... even as he was a looter of the past, one such as Kalzok did not find purpose without some amount of respect for the traditions- both the remembered and the forgotten, whether Lord or Prince.

On 8/15/2024 at 8:35 PM, Ghosthands said:

The designs became clearer as they came closer: figures of Lesterin (and the occasional subservient Skathi) in a variety of tableaux, surrounded and entwined by snaking successions of the triangular letters favoured by the Lesterin (albeit in an archaic form that made them strange and near-incomprehensible to uneducated eyes). Many of the reliefs showed library-like rooms containing figures seemingly in states of study and contemplation, against backgrounds of shelves stacked with small regular shapes resembling the memory crystal Kalzok had found here previously. At the apex of the door was carved one particularly resplendent figure: a Lesterin crowned in gold, coins spilling from one hand, and a memory crystal in the other. The Lesterin merchant-princes of antiquity were famed for their prosperity; less so for their subtlety.

It was difficult not to stop and stare. He'd already had the chance to see some of it after getting the crystal, but still it was a marvel. Kalzok had the image of a Nakihl to uphold, of course, so he made sure not to gawk like a fool, but these carvings, these memories... a thrill shot down his spine. How he wished he had more time to record all of it- who knew what secrets and power they held?

There at the door was the figure who lorded over all- Who was this Lesteri prince? What secrets did he, and this place, hold of the past? The sight of the coin pictograms, and the unreadable symbolic expression of his face stirred something in the ex-Nakihl.

In death, you will pay for your misbegotten wealth with knowledge... even if I must make it so.

"I too would prefer we not dynamite a site more well-preserved than any we've seen in... a long while," Kalzok chimed in. While Aden favoured the direct mechanical approach, the Nakihl decided to spend a short while looking at the relief. Old Lesterin runes, depictions of a repository of knowledge, and a prince as sponsor of this place...

"I have the memory crystal here still- if it is necessary to compare its information with the carvings?"

IC: Vekus (Digsite)

Vekus hung back from the group, keeping a close eye on... everything and everyone. The sniping and bickering wasn't just unproductive- these things had a tendency to spill into violence, and well, she'd be failing at her job.

She scanned the walls and digsite for the umpteenth time- quite apart from the dig crew, places like these had a tendency to have defences. Working for the Nakihl for years had taught her some painful things, and it was for this reason she'd brought an abundance of ten foot poles, ropes, and knives, to prod, carry, jam, and so on. As far as she could tell, the circumstances of her employment here put her far to the bottom of the pecking order, but if anyone deigned to ask one of the security consultants about precautions, well, here she was. 

 

OOC: digsite crew! @BBBBalta @a goose @Ghosthands @Rahisaurus @BULiK

[Smudge8]

IC:Jojax-Fort Razorfish;Vaa

Jojax was an ant. All around the ground shifted, mountains abruptly jutting out from the ground, throwing her off her feet. Great screaming birds of fire came Kamikaziing down around her. She could feel their heat as they missed by Milibio. She turned, and thought she saw an exit, only to be cut off by a collosal claw crashing down and blocking her path. She looked up. Looming above here were two glowing read eyes and a sadistic skakdi smile. Then the other foot came down.

CRACK!!!

Jojax woke up screaming. She rolled off of the bed where she had been placed, then rolled underneeth it, tightly grasping it's legs. The enemy camp must have folowed them here to finnish the job. Her head throbbed with negative thoughts.

I'm a failure, I don't diserve to be here, I don't have what it takes, I ran away, I don't deserve to live, I should have been killed, my dad would be so dissapointed.

 

Edited August 19, 2024 by Smudge8

[Techn0geist]

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa

T'harrak proceeded to the upper level, the Bite of Irnakk's Tooth close behind. Once behind the throne, out of view of the rest of the party, Sohmak faced out towards the courtyard and pulled the triggers inside his gauntlets, the uneasy silence once more punctuated by two loud CLANKs.

"You called a full retreat." He sneered over his shoulder, just loud enough that any eavesdroppers would catch him scolding the tinkerer. "Your words, geek, 'full retreat.' Words've a coward, plain as day."

He turned now to face T'harrak, but she wasn't met with a perhaps-expected scowl. Any and all venom had slipped away, he looked... sullen? Humbled?

His voice now little more than a whisper, a low rumble directed only in front of him, perceptible only to her. "Says the kinda fool who woulda called that a "glorious death." Ain't no glory in the clusterfu..." a wry smile, "...pardon, mess we got out've."

Gracious. Sohmak looked gracious.

"Thanks geek, you made the smart call. Saved lives. No use wastin' a good Skak' on a stupid tussle like that."

Over all this, a couple more CLANK-CLANKs for good measure, some unnecessary gesturing to fill the quiet with the din of servo-motors. Some showmanship, some misdirection. Make the plebs in the cheap seats think she's getting a bollocking.

"But smart ain't strong. Now y'gotta wear it." He hoped T'harrak could sense the unless approaching.

 

OOC: @Nato G, also @Smudge8 poor Jojax

 

[Nato G]

IC: T’harrak – Fort Razorfish;Vaa

“I was wearing that label long before yesterday,” T’harrak bit back, too tired for games. “I’m the Skakdi who sits in a workshop all day making the weapons and ammunition that the real warriors use to fight with. No one here is going to think less of me for giving exactly the kind of order they expected me to.”

Only a few minutes earlier, she wouldn't have been nearly as confident in that last sentence. But Sohmak's thanks hadn't just been gratifying, they'd been vindicating. So much so that she felt guilty for snapping at him. But even here, on a windswept spit of land far from the eyes and ears of the rest of Skakdi society, weakness was whispered, and strength was shouted. 

She glanced at the De-Skakdi’s clanking metal gauntlets, warily wondering if Sohmak was just posturing, or actually planning to pummel her at some point to sell his act. 

“How about you spare me the rest of the setup and skip to the punchline?” she suggested. 

@Techn0geist

[Geardirector]

IC: Krex (Fort Garsi)

The pack of upstarts had been taught a lesson or two, and the fight had been blasted out of them. It was a joy to see, tail tucking between their legs and heads held low. Krex had tossed a few explosives their way without aiming or throwing very hard, it was just a final, insulting farewell to them.

She reared up her bike and found herself a vantage point to see over the carnage of the surroundings, and carnage it was. Vandalism of her field of mines, it was! And none of them had the decency to trod on one, jump 200 bio into the air and scatter themselves over a large area. For shame.

She revved up and made for the fort again. She would need to round up a few warriors to help her sort out this mess, and put the minefield back as it was. Next time she'd need to think about making it a little less... alterable.

OOC: @Mel@Visaru@Smudge8

Edited August 25, 2024 by Geardirector

[Techn0geist]

IC: Sohmak - Spineless Bay, Fortress Razorfish;Vaa

"Rope-a-dope."

Gesticulating angrily, speaking softly (as much as one of his make could, of course), Sohmak proceeded to lay out the extent of his overthinking.

"Far as I'm seein', and I admit that ain't much, only been 'ere a day... you're the only one with the 'ead to run this show." He shot a glance back to the courtyard, the rabble below. "And those Stone Rats'll eat you alive for it. They see a scrap-tinker geek, and..." he remembered the purple bastard who got him in this mess, there was the scowl now, "... and they don't see the value in ya, even now you're the reason our sorry behinds're 'ere at all. Reckon some of 'em'd fancy takin' your piece off the board."

He slammed the Sluggers together suddenly, CLANG. Sparks flew, briefly illuminating T'harrak's face, Sohmak's forming grin. He seemed taller all of a sudden. Torches either side of the throne silhouetted him, stretched his shadow long over the tinkerer.

"They see me... ya think any of those chuffs'll step to me?"

He laughed. Low, sinister.

"I can face any of 'em, anyone—"

His grin now dropped, realising he may have begun to give the wrong impression. Ancestors, was he trying to sound sincere right now; humility was a rare emotion for the Spineless Slugger. "BUT... but, I ain't got your brain. It takes a certain blighter to run an op like this, and I make no bones about not bein' that certain blighter. But I look like I could, BUT you actually could. So 'ere's how I see it."

Sarke was equal parts combat and showmanship. Years of practice had imparted to Sohmak the qualities of a born yapper.

He brought the giant gauntlets together now, slowly, gently as he could muster. "I'm the new boss. 'cept I'm not the new boss, you're the new boss. But we make 'em think I'm the new boss and you're my..." it came to him with a twinkle in his eye, like he was making the word up just now, "Advisor. But when you're advisorin' me you're actually just bossin' me, and then I'm bossin' the others." He was rambling now, genuinely really excited about this plan, failing to see any shortcomings someone with the aforementioned brain might spot immediately. "You make any dud calls, 'sorry lads, my bad, shoulda listened to the geek,' no one bothers Boss Sohmak because I can scoop their 'eads off. You give out some real belters, 'cheers lads, good ol' T'harrak had the juice on that one,' they don't kill ya 'cause I got your back; they start to see that you got some real skin in this fort stuff. Y'know, sometimes, still gotta make 'em think I'm half-good at this."

He'd forgotten to breathe in his fervour, pausing to take in a big gulp of air. "I take the hits, you make the big swings." He spread his colossal arms wide, grinned even wider. "I'm ya rope-a-dope."

 

OOC: @Nato G in which Sohmak shares my issues with brevity. And foresight.

[Nato G]

IC: T’harrak – Fort Razorfish;Vaa

For several long seconds, she just stared at Sohmak.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “You’re strong and scary enough to have the run of this place if you tried. I doubt anyone here would challenge you. But you’re wrong about me. An idiot like me doesn't have what it takes to run a place like this. I just... don't think like a Skakdi.”

Her voice took on a bitter note.

“You want to know how stupid I am? When Zanakra said ‘I think it's time we introduce ourselves to our neighbours’, I actually thought she meant talking to them. At no point on the whole trip over there did it cross my mind that she meant ‘I’m going to walk up to their front door and start firing rockets’. I was probably the only person in our party who didn’t think we were walking into a fight.”

She glanced over at the throne. She didn’t think of it as Zanakra’s throne anymore. Even if Zanakra was alive, even if she made it back to the Fort somehow, T’harrak doubted anyone was going to eagerly fall in line and start following her orders again.

“You want an advisor?” She said, turning back to Sohmak. “I can advise you on how to not die. I’m good at not dying. And it would be so easy for all of us to not die. Our boats give us easy access to fresh water from the river mouth. We have plenty of space on the island to grow our own food and firewood. We can send out trade parties or extort passing boats for anything else we lack. We have the firepower to sink anyone who comes here looking for a fight. We could have comfortable, low-risk lives right here and never worry about anything ever again…”

Her gauntlet glittered in the torchlight as she swept one of her hands back to point at the Skakdi crowding the courtyard.

“…but that’s not the kind of leader these warriors want. They want to fight strangers and die glorious deaths for the sake of someone else’s mad plan. They want a leader with murderous intent and expansionist ambitions. I don’t have that. I don’t know how to give you that.”

@Techn0geist

[Ghosthands]

On 8/15/2024 at 4:17 PM, a goose said:

She gently pressed her palm against the door’s surface, closed her eyes, and focused.

Show me what you were.

IC [Burning Steppes digsite]

In Aden's mind's eye, an image began to form as her Kanohi tapped into the great door's 'memory'.

The Mask of Psychometry was one of the more mysterious of its kind. No one had yet managed to discover the secrets of its function: what these traces of the past were that remained in objects, nor how the mask was able to extract and decipher them for its wearer to comprehend, nor how it selected which moments to reveal from among (potentially) millennia. Yet somehow, it worked.

It was not without its limitations, however: the 'memories' were not perfect recordings, and it seemed they could become degraded in certain ways. The most common of these was simply the passage of time: as a general rule, the further into the past one attempted to look, the less distinct the image became. Aden was trying to look very far back indeed, and so the image that began to take shape in her mind was commensurately degraded, its colours bleached and its shapes hazy.

Nevertheless, she could make out what she needed to. There was the door itself, set into its hillside structure, not ancient and weathered as it was now, but clean, newly-built, its reliefs gleaming gold and azure as if freshly polished. Where now there was nothing but sand and shattered stones, a wide paved road led to the monolithic entrance, lined with neatly-trimmed trees. Tracing it back, Aden thought she could see roofs and spires in the distance.

Throngs of Lesterin stood on either side of the road, rapturously watching a procession formed mainly also of Lesterin (all robed in grey), but with six Skakdi (or rather, Skathi) labouring at its front, carrying on their shoulders a sizeable yet elegantly-shaped casket. Its top was carved with the likeness of a Lesterin lying on his back, arms crossed over his torso; the detail was difficult to make out, but as far as Aden could tell (and as seemed likely given the context), the carving was of the same Lesterin shown so grandly at the apex of the door's reliefs. Music played out from somewhere in the procession, sounding in the time-worn memory as though played from an old and scratched gramophone disk; it was strange and ancient in style, but recognisably grandiose and solemn in tone. 

The procession halted, the music reached its conclusion. An elderly Lesterin stepped forward from a small but well-heeled-looking group (also clad in grey robes, yet noticeably more layered and opulent ones than those worn by the Lesterin in the procession) standing in front of the door. He raised his arms towards the sarcophagus, and began to speak. Much like the music, the degradation of the memory made many of his words incomprehensible (not helped by the Old Lesteri, spoken in its original intonation, which was a difficult tongue to follow even for an expert).

"Gathered ▒▓▒▒▓, we ▓▓▒▒▓ here today to ▒▓▒▒▓▒▓ our beloved Lord Jehaeros,  ▒▓▓▒▓ of Scholars, ▒▓▒▒ of ▓▒▒▓..."

The elder went on similarly for quite some time, apparently attributing a long array of epithets and great works to this 'Lord Jehaeros'.

"As we now ▒▓▒▓▓▓ his soul to Artakha, let us give ▒▓▓▒▓ for what he has left to us ▒▒▓▒▓, this grand Archive-Mausoleum, where his earthly ▓▓▒▓ shall be ▒▓▒▒ until the end of times, and where the knowledge he ▓▓▒▓▒▓ shall be ▒▓▓▒▓ for as long as ▒▓▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▒▓."

The elder turned and strode towards the door. The procession resumed in his wake; Aden could just about make out the grunts and groans of the Skathi pallbearers struggling under their burden. The elder reached out his palm to the door's surface (towards the carvings? The surface was too indistinct in the memory for Aden to make them out) and pressed sharply in different places, once, twice, three, four, five, and finally a sixth time.

The deep muffled sounds of some hidden mechanism emanated from somewhere in the recesses of the stonework, and the monolithic door began to slide smoothly upwards to reveal a cavernous passage beyond, gently sloping down into the earth. The elder entered, followed by the sarcophagus and its bearers, the other richly-robed Lesterin, and the rest of the procession. When the last of them had disappeared into the depths of the passage, the mechanism rumbled again, and the door began to descend inexorably back to the ground...

 

On 8/18/2024 at 7:26 PM, NorikSigma said:

"I too would prefer we not dynamite a site more well-preserved than any we've seen in... a long while," Kalzok chimed in. While Aden favoured the direct mechanical approach, the Nakihl decided to spend a short while looking at the relief. Old Lesterin runes, depictions of a repository of knowledge, and a prince as sponsor of this place...

"I have the memory crystal here still- if it is necessary to compare its information with the carvings?"

IC (Broker NPC: Rhuvok) [Burning Steppes digsite]

"Hmph. I would expect the carvings themselves to be of more use than one crystal from what I presume are thousands," Rhuvok replied dismissively. "But if you must examine it, we have a Reader somewhere amongst the equipment."

The memory crystals of the ancient Lesterin operated by refraction of light: by techniques now lost to time, the information they contained was carved in minute detail within the crystal's interior. While the basic information of the its place of origin could be read simply enough by ambient light, to truly read the crystal required a complicated contraption to hold and rotate the crystal while passing a carefully controlled beam of light through its core. Such devices, known as Readers, had been found in a handful of ancient Lesteri sites, and a number had been reverse-engineered. The device supplied by the Broker was of the latter variety.

Rhuvok snapped his fingers at some nearby workmen and sent them off to fetch the box containing the Reader. He then turned back towards the door, pulled a notebook from a fold of his robes, and began noting down the long passages of runes that snaked across the carvings.

 

OOC: @a goose @NorikSigma @BULiK @Rahisaurus @BBBBalta

[a goose]

IC: Aden (The Burning Steppes)

####.

It was a tomb, then – that of this ‘Lord Jehaeros’.

“I have good news and bad news,” Aden announced, removing her Kanohi from her face and returning it to the pack. In its place, she removed what looked like a metal brick, covered in knobs and dials, along with some manner of ancient screen and a dish of some sort. With metal poles and wire, she affixed these items to the brick, in ways that looked questionably secure. “Bad news first: this is a tomb, belonging to a ‘Lord Jehaeros’, some kind of scholar. Odds are good that we are not wanted here, so we need to really watch our step.”

She turned to look at Rhuvok specifically. “That means no explosives, unless you want a repeat of Katha;Vaa. The good news is, I have a lead on how we open this thing – there are six pressure points on these carvings. We identify where they are, and what order to press them, and we’re in.”

She held the dish up, facing the carvings, and began to move it around, closely watching the readout. If there were panels or buttons hidden in these carvings, she’d know where they were soon enough.

OOC: @Ghosthands @NorikSigma @BULiK @Rahisaurus @BBBBalta

[BBBBalta]

IC: Rezena, Burning Steppes digsite

Rezena sidled up next to Aden, a bit closer than the Lesterin may have been comfortable with, and peered down at the device. "Hey, Aden," she mused, "Does that thing tell you how thick this door is?" Explosives might be out, but chopping through with her axe could still be on the table...

Kriv scuttled out of one of Rezena's many pockets and pouches and clambered up onto her shoulder. The lizard seemed to study the carvings intently from its lofty perch.

OOC: @a goose

 

[a goose]

IC: Aden (The Burning Steppes)

Aden glared up at Rezena out of the corner of her eye. “It does. Don't try anything – I think I speak for everyone when I say that the rest of us would prefer not to trigger any traps.”

The collapse of Katha;Vaa, Aden recalled, had appeared to be the Kaiakan's favourite part of the entire dig.

“This tomb is going to be well-protected. Look at all this – the reliefs, the special opening mechanism. I saw a sizeable procession walk in with a sarcophagus carved in his image, and an opulently dressed elder rattle off so many titles that even the door didn't care to remember them. This Lord Jehaeros wasn't just anyone, and he was buried with the knowledge he gathered in life. Safe money says we're looking at riches and secrets: the grave-robber special. That means whoever built this knew we were coming, and they'll have prepared accordingly; one wrong step, and this very quickly becomes your kind of job.”

OOC: @BBBBalta

Edited August 26, 2024 by a goose

[Rahisaurus]

[IC: Zassani [Burning Steppes, Dig Site]  

Zassani leaned idly against one wall near the door, regarding the carvings on the opposite wall with bored disinterest.

His ears perked up at the mention of traps, though. That would certainly make this day a lot more interesting.

"You said tomb, eh? Heh. Don't worry, I bet no zombies" - he drew out the word, waggling his fingers mockingly - "ever seen a gun like this. Blasts anything in a 2-bio radius from the impact, even makes a funny little round hole in the floor". He raised his pride-and-joy with a grin.

ooc: @BBBBalta @a goose @Ghosthands @NorikSigma @BULiK