wildpelt
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Post by wildpelt on Nov 5, 2013 13:05:31 GMT -12
So I am re-pasting all of them into this thread. I'll do it gradually.
Brothers in All but Blood: Prologue
From the shores of Destral, a lone Makuta stated into the sunset. As he watched, the crimson sunlight dipped low enough to finally ignite the waves bellow him. The waves suddenly sparkled with red radiance. The waters frothed around the rocky shore, while still holding a crimson embrace. The lone kewa birds in the distance screeched, adding to the amazing sight. The large fortress behind him screamed with a new darkness as the black walls were bathed into a red embrace.
He was sick of it.
The being had seen this sight for over 10,000 years and was ready to move on. Destral was stuck in the same place for years, right off the coast of one of the southern islands. The dark fortress was the only break-up in the monotony of the boring region. Disgusted at having the sunlight bounce off his protsteel armor, the Makuta stalked back within his stronghold. His metal feet produced ear-splitting scrapes as they were forced off the rocks. As he neared the entrance, twin screeches split the air. They were quickly followed by another set of different but equally ear-grinding creatures.
Rahkshi guards saluted him as he entered the large portcullis. He smiled as they bowed in respect to him. He was always fond of having an army of loyal guards that could be created at will. As he strode past him, their squid-like faces separated into four pieces, allowing a worm-like Kraata to be exposed. They screeched in respect when he patted them on the shoulder.
“You’re late,” Hillin sneered, “What, can’t stand to not see a sunset?”
“You know very well what my reasons for looking into that abomination are.” Mutran replied.
“Well, we don’t have the time. Teridax has a request for us.” Hillin replied. Unlike his normal calm and angry self, two emotions that rarely mixed, his tone betrayed fear.
“Teridax is giving the orders now?” Hillin snorted.
Instead of replying, Hillin turned around. His 18 foot tall form stalked silently across the obsidian floors. This betrayed their difference: their killing method. While Hillin liked to wait for his prey to stalk up to him, Mutran didn’t like waiting. The closest he ever came to waiting was when he had to watch a Kane-Ra bull attack a Muaka cat and even that only took 10 minutes. Still, they two of them were very close togheter in their preferred opinions and ideas. It was an ironic relationship.
Hillin took a left and entered one of the many towers that spawned the surface of the fortress. Entering the tower, darkness shrouded the stairs. The walls were unadorned, only adding to the oppressive gloom of the area. As the stones beneath their feet cracked, Mutran felt distaste at having to attend a meeting In this place. Mutran liked darkness, same as any makuta, but this place was just too…plain. Like an empty field, this area of the fortress had no personality to it. Unfortunately, Mutran would have to go through Miserix to get anything done, and that would likely end up in a boring assignment watching over the prisoners they got from an assault on a tiny, undefended island.
“This way, you slow-thinker” Hillin sneered, using treespeak as an added insult. Mutran sighed and started up the stairs. Toward the apex, a small room jutted out of the wall. The stairs continued around it. Mutran smiled and entered it, using a bit of his shape shifting powers to become larger. Once inside, he looked around the room to announce his accomplishment of the Lorhrak to Chirox. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.
Hillin sneered again as he paused, then let out a growl as Mutran looked around in circles; unlike most makuta, Mutran was more interested in his surroundings than the actual focus of the room. Shoving him, Hillin entered and sat down next to Gorast. Krika was in the darkened corner of the room, sitting near Kojal. In the center, Teridax sat meanicingly.
“Mutran, how was your ‘sightseeing’?” Teridax chuckled.
“Quite well actually.” Mutran didn’t understand sarcasm when he heard it.
“Maybe you should go build a house outside the base since you love it so much!” Gorast laughed at the last bit.
“Enough, while I dislike Mutran’s hobbies, we have more important things to talk about,” Teridax announced to them, “The League of Six Kingdoms have plans to march on Metru Nui. They have become more than a pesky water wraith; they are now a deadly doom viper. I have assessed out current state of the army, and we don’t have enough weapons to give them.”
“I hope that your Takadox fellow was thorough in his examination then.” Gorast muttered.
Teridax glared at her, but decided against approaching her about it. “That isn’t the point. We can’t start randomly making weapons here. There would be too many questions to answer. We need to make them elsewhere.”
“Why,” Mutran inquired, “If we could, why not just go ahead and make them?’
“Well, Mutran, consider this: Miserix wants to appear like a police force, not a military base. We don’t have the capability to make weapons fast enough to meet the demand. If we start making them, Miserix will just shut it down.”
“What about Guretan?” Kojal suggested.
“What?! That pitiful scrap of rocky shores wouldn’t make any weapons if you gave them the instructions to.” Krika sneered.
“Well, they just had a squad of toa sent there. If they were…influenced to start production, we may get some product off them.” Hillin cackled.
“I disagree. We can’t just place huge orders on them and expect them to fulfill them within a time limit. Matoran just don’t work for the goodness of their hearts.” Mutran replied.
“Wait, Hillin, did you say there were toa on that island?” Teridax questioned.
“Yes, there are. A new squad formed on that island just 4 days ago.” Hillin replied.
“That may be to our advantage.” Teridax said. Turning around, he placed a scroll onto the table. Unfurling it, he showed them the island’s location. Noting it, he slowly laughed. The sound of his laugh started to echo through the base until the kewa birds were scared away.
“Alright then, this is what we are going to do…”
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wildpelt
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Post by wildpelt on Nov 5, 2013 13:05:56 GMT -12
Brothers In All But Blood: Chapter 1
Move Swiftly, Move Quietly
Ronnak, Toa of Air, stood outside what he had just been assigned to. His gaze glared over the rocky landscape, looking for a hint of vegetation, trees, bushes, or any plant life. He had hoped standing on a hill would help him spot something. When he found none, he sighed and looked around for his teammates. They all were now on what they called Guentra, and the place was just as barren as the name suggested. Upset at the lack of plants, the toa of air spun around once, twice, then three times, looking for any sign of sunlight. Unfortunately, the mountains cut out even the barest glimpse of the twin suns.
“Ronnak! You’re needed!” A feminine voice called out to him. He turned around and smiled.
At the crest of the hill, a female toa of water was calling with one hand near her mouth. The two of them were the only toa who knew one another on this island, and so far he was intrigued. She had apparently been a toa Hagah until Norik’s team had replaced her. The sole sign of the honor was the silver and black staff she carried in her right hand. Testament to being a toa of water, she had requested an adapted Kaukau, or the great mask of water breathing. This included having fins on the side for aerial combat, and a telescopic eyepiece in the right lens. The mask made her look meanicing, innocent, and lovely all at the same time.
It doesn’t help that she is so beautiful as well, Ronnak pondered. He had harbored a crush on her for almost 2 years now, but was unable to muster the courage to tell her.
“Alright Naromai, I’m coming!” He called out rather gruffly.
Descending down the hillside, he nearly tripped on the rocks that were imbedded in the hillside. The jagged edges cut into the only patch of green Ronnak could find. The side of the hill sported many dips, ridges, and caves that all meshed together to create an appearance of a half-melted protosteel gauntlet. The sparse bits of grass offered no cover in the desolate landscape.
“So, what do you think of Gnentra?” Naromai asked, teasingly.
“It is about as cheer-happy as a rahi-beast during a bad-storm.” Ronnak answered.
“True, but you will enjoy the settlement, I promise.” She laughed.
“I doubt I ever-will.” Ronnak answered. He mentally sighed as he felt chutespeak creep into his voice. He was origionally apart of the Le-Metru task force. He had only been there for 3 months, but he met a le-matoran named matatu and was quickly introduced to the tangled mess of chutes and cables. He loved the colors, sounds, sights, and most of all, the race-track. In fact, he had won a few races himself.
Then everything changed. A messenger came to Metru Nui asking for him and him alone. Traveling to chute station 451, he was met with a holographic projection of someone named “Helyrix”. The message made him swear to secrecy and then dis-arm himself. The message was simple: he had been chosen, out of all the toa, to go to a small island in the middle of nowhere and protect a small matoran settlement. As the message winded down, a hideous golden being materialized out of…something. The toothed-faced warrior grabbed him and then teleported him across the universe. After the usual 4 seconds of color blurs, disorientation, and nausea, he found himself standing on a rocky shoreline alone. Then a toa of stone he knew well, Mordnand, walked up to him. He was informed that he was…accepted into the Order of Mata Nui, and to prove his loyalty, he had to guard the island at all costs.
Ronnak pulled out a katana sword and activated his noble Miru, the mask of levitation. Latching onto Naromai’s thin frame, he pulled them up into the air. As the ground left them, he heard Naromai gasp in fear. Ronnak smilled and pulled his katana up to the side of his body. Entering a wind current, he flew them towards a sole spot of light in the distance.
The “village” he was sent to protect was actually a factory. The small valley was the only place that the toxic fumes of the mountains didn’t reach. The valley housed about 20 small huts, a tower, and a large factory to rival those on Xia. The two toa landed gently on the outskirts of the village, careful not to scare any villagers in the region. Even though they landed near the edge, they still were only 200 yards from the factory.
“Don’t ever do that again!” Naromai cried.
“Come on, you ever-liked it! Just quick-tell me and well go for another quick-spin!” Ronnak replied.
Even though she was angry, she knew he had a point. Narmoai had, ironically enough, spent her years as an airship captain. Scared out her mind of heights, but in need of work, she had recklessly agreed to pilot the ship though a storm to reach an island called Artidax. The ship proved too weak and slow to stand up to the elements, and was forced down into the water. Unable to save the crew, she found herself in the arms of a golden warrior. Although she couldn’t see his face, she could feel herself teleport away from the doomed vessel. When she arrived, she found she was alone near the village. A small note was attached to her trident staff. She received the same message as Ronnak had.
“Fine. Let’s just see to the defenses then.” She responded.
The two toa walked straight through the center of town. Unlike Metru Nui, Xia, or even Daxia, the village had been arranged in a circular pattern around the center. Each individual building had small walls on the roof, each carved into intricate designs. Some roofs were unadorned all together, while others were caulked through to the last inch. Ronnak had levitated up to see what it formed, but all he could make out was a small crescent towards edge of town. The matoran had said that they hadn’t carved any of the roofs, despite the fact that the chisel tools mirrored those of a po-matoran’s tools.
“Are we quick-dashing to the tower?” Ronnak had to ask. Naromai didn’t reply.
The tower was arranged perpendicular to the center of town. Towards the north end was a small path that branched out from the top right corner. If that path was followed, it lead to small pit. If a bridge was extended over it, it allowed for them to walk up a set of exterior stairs that lead up to the top of the tower. The walls around the staircase were jet black, while the stairs were white. The entire tower appeared to be a white snake that decided to wrap itself around a piece of obsidian.
“Josmarak wanted to speak with us.” Naromai said as they neared the center.
As they passed the center of town, the residents turned to look at them. Ronnak sighed again. The majority of them were either ba-matoran or ce-matoran. Not one le-matoran was in sight. The natives were blank faced as they strode through town. Not one of them smiled.
“You could find more happy-cheer in a deserted ghost town, ”Ronnak thought.
“Toa! Toa!” A matoran cried out.
Both toa turned around to see a ba-matoran running full speed at them. That was unusual, for that type of matoran was very…slow. Ronnak turned to Naromai, she shrugged.
“Rahkshi! There are Rahkshi up on the ridge!” He cried. Then he gasped, sputtering blood at his side. Both gasped as he fell to the ground.
“Naromai, help him!” Ronnak cried. Then he turned to the ridge.
“What about you?” She asked, fear in her voice.
“I’m going to go hit-pound sense into those makuta-sons!” He yelled, already halfway up the ridge.
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wildpelt
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Post by wildpelt on Nov 5, 2013 13:06:21 GMT -12
Brothers In All But Blood: Chapter 2
A Fight that Went Awry
“GET DOWN!” Josmarak screamed as he noticed another Pahnrak appear over the rocks. Grituda turned around, only to notice a beam of shattering fly past his shoulder. Angered, he unleashed a hail of ice that froze the ends of his staff. The rahkshi let out a shrill cry. Josmarak, as a toa of iron, called upon his powers. The rahkshi started gasping as his spine contorted on itself. The kraata gave one final gasp and died, crushed by its own power.
Mordnand flew above Josmarak, aiming his large club at a stray Tuhrahk. The red makuta-son turned to face him, only to have a club rip its head off. The kraata inside cried out in anger as it was exposed to the sun. As Mordnand tried to use his stone powers to impale it, the kraata turned translucent. Mordnand realized what was going to happen, but he was unable to dodge it in time. Yelling, he felt overwhelming fear attack his mind. He dropped the club and fell over. The red aura surrounding him intensified as his resistance weakened, allowing the kraata to worm its way onto his chest armor. As it prepared to infect his Kakama, Grituda caught sight of a red glow. Turning, he saw what was about to happen. Turning to face a purple rahkshi, he threw his axe underneath it. Heaving it upward, he flung it into the air. As it cried out in fear, he swung his weapon again, this time propelling it backwards. The suit fell down next to his fallen brother.
The kraata lost its concentration as the body collapsed by it. The momentary distraction allowed Mordnand to sit up. His eyes widened at the worm. Before it could react, the kraata found itself flying uncontrollably upward. As it readied itself for another attack, a large club blasted it into gooey bits. Mordnand then heard another hiss behind him.
Josmarak pulled out his wrist blades: two thin spindly swords that clipped onto his lower arm. He flung one into a Guhrahk, only to be thrown backwards into a rock. Pain lanced up his back and he gasped. Winded, he once again saw the rahkshi attack him. The Guhrahk tried to disintegrate him, but he kicked its left leg out from under it. As it fell, he impaled its head with his left blade. The outburst it sent out allowed another one to fling its entire weapon at him. Squinting, he contorted the weapon in mid-air. He smiled as it collapsed to ground. His victory was short lived as two more appeared above him. The two jumped down, one behind him, one in front. The warrior tried to block them, but he was unable to stop them both. As the Lehrahk flung a serrated blade at him, the weapon scratched his left side. The blow, combined with his surprise, punctured the armor and hit organic muscle. As poison flowed into him, he screamed in agony. The Kuhrahk behind him let out what could best be described as a laugh. The white beast accelerated the poison with anger, driving it closer to his heart. Before it could finish, however, a blade protruded from its gut. Although it did no harm to the kraata, the beast couldn’t help but lapse in control. The sudden shift in powers overwhelmed Josmarak. He fainted and passed out, the blade still stuck in him.
“Josmarak!” Mordnand screamed. He removed his blade and sent a flying kick into the Lehrak. The beast flew 30 feet backwards, landing on a large spike. Mordnand heard more hisses from behind, and he ducked as rocks exploded behind him. Another Guhrak and Vohrak were coming. He turned to face them, knowing that if they attacked, he would be overwhelmed.
The Vohrak struck first. The beast tried to envelop him in hunger, but he was smart enough to fling himself out of the way. The warrior then flung his club at the Guhrak. The rahkshi flicked it aside, knocking it maybe some 20 yards away. Weaponless, he ducked behind Josmarak. Noticing the blade, he removed the staff, hefting it as a javelin. The projectile impaled itself into the Vohrak, but missed the Guhrak. The rahkshi screeched again; he was getting tired of it. The creature then raised the weapon, aiming not at him, but the ridge above him. Too late to use his stone powers, he flung himself towards his fallen comrade. The rockslide was deafening, causing him to yell. The rocks that encased him did so quickly.
The rahkshi was just about to impale Mordnand when a gust of concentrated wind knocked him maybe some 400 feet backwards. The impact shattered the armor and killed the kraata instantly. Ronnak then, using his mask, flew into the air. Falling, he twisted in a 360 degree circle. As he did so, he summoned a tornado around him. Already spinning, he was sucked in hard enough to spin at alarming rates. He neared the ground, not showing any fear. The impact jarred him enough to rattle him, but he used his momentum to fly forward. The resulting blow left a 3 inch gash in the rocks. The toa flung forward, flying straight into 20 rahkshi at once. The force he hit them with left large holes in their bodies. As he continued, he felt his speed lessening. As he felt himself unable to continue, he hit the ground feet first. Twisting with his body, he drew his energized blade. The combined forces impaled its way through the twin rahkshi before him.
When he finally stopped, he suddenly was hit with a wave of despair. While he had gone through the bulk of the forces, it had made him unbalanced, winded, and unstable. He was also at the mercy of the remaining 3 rahkshi. He tried to raise his weapon, but fell down with its weight. He realized that he had just done a foolish deed.
Why did I ever-do that? He thought. The Tuhrahk raised its blade, ready to kill the toa of air.
Then he caught sight of Grituda fighting with another beast. The act alone seemed to energize him. Raising his weapon, although without a groan of pain, he used its weight to snap the staff in half. The rahkshi stumbled in surprise, unbalanced. Swinging low, he then fought his way past the guard of the second. Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed the last orange creature ready to strike. Twirling the blade in mid-air, he slid forward to attack the creature. The blade sliced clean through it.
Before he could celebrate or rest, he felt a burning sensation travel up his torso. He screamed as the pain blistered his organic muscles and scorched him. Fighting through the pain, he blasted a gust of air at the direction he thought that it was coming from. The effect allowed him to turn and face his attacker. The rahkshi fell before it could look up.
Ronnak felt his strength ebb as he dropped the sword. Turning around, he faced his brother. Raising his arm, despite it felt like lifting all of Le-Metru, he unleashed a hail of wind upon Grituda’s opponent. The attack drained him of strength, and he collapsed. His burnt side agonized him as it hit the ground. Fighting to remain conscious, he tried to stand up on his arms and knees. The effort put him down for good.
“Ronnak? Ronnak, are you alright?” Naromai cried out to him. She rushed to his side, placing a hand on his arm. He gasped as the touched burned.
“Grituda! What has happened here?” A gruff voice announced from behind him. He immediately recognized it as Narshk, Toa of fire. He grimaced.
“Ronnak, why are you on the ground? You didn’t try that stupid stunt again, did you?”
Although exhausted, he managed to smile. “I didn’t ever-try, I ever-did. Those makuta-sons sure learned their lesson.” He coughed and gasped again.
“Well, you’ve managed to get yourself burned by that rahkshi over there, great going oh great toa.” Naromai mocked. He thought he saw, though, he saw here wink.
“Grituda, how many rahkshi were there this time?”
“40 or so. Ronnak took out more than I could count.” Grituda answered.
It was at that moment Ronnak lost consciousness and passed out.
“Ronnak, Ronnak?” Naromai whispered. Ronnak groaned and turned away from the noise.
“Wake up air head!” She cried. A rough slap on the face convinced him to rise.
“What did you ever-do that for?” He queried. It wasn’t so much out of pain, but instinct.
“Because you’ve been out for 2 days, stupid,” She replied, “That little stunt cost you more than just energy. You’re lucky that you didn’t get hurt even more.”
Ronnak struggled to a sitting position. The effort was excruciating, but he managed to look at Naromai’s waist. Tears began to form in his eyes as he tried to maintain the effort. Groaning, he finally flung himself up. The effort left him lightheaded. He swayed around in his bed. Looking around, he realized he was in Naromai’s hut.
“That burn severed maybe 4 muscles. You were lucky I got there when I did. If I hadn’t patched them before surgery, you wouldn’t have any use of that right arm of yours.” She scoffed at him.
“Well, at least I made those evil-monsters quick-flee.” He grimaced, only half out of pain.
Naromai looked at him with wonder, then sighed and flung her arms into the air in submission. She had had enough of his cocky attitude and bad judgment. Resigning, she positioned herself against the wall, facing out a window. Ronnak couldn’t help but admire her form as he bent over. He blushed and turned away, embarrassed for his actions. As he lay there smothering in his own emotions, he turned around to face a portrait on her wall. To his surprise, it was an exact representation of him. He blinked, but before he could ask, she turned to speak to him.
“Ronnak, did you find that…odd in some way?” She asked. Confused he shrugged.
“Okay, bad wording. I mean, why do 40 rahkshi just suddenly show up on an island in the middle of nowhere, attack a matoran, then retreat? I thought that rahkshi fight to the last man.” She pondered.
“I can’t think-plan why,” He began, “Perhaps this was just a small-part. Maybe…maybe it was part of a larger force.”
“What do you mean!?” She turned around, startled. He fell back at her reaction.
“Well, those makuta –sons weren’t here for a joy-ride. Perhaps we might be-”
“Toa! Toa!” A shout rang through the air. Ronnak groaned, remembering what the last time had brought.
“Toa, its…its…huhhuhu” The ga-matoran keeled over, unable to breathe. Ronnak, despite the pain, jumped up to her aid. Grabbing her frame, he forced a funnel of air down her lungs. When she was breathing fine again, he fell over as burst of pain danced up his side. He screamed and collapsed.
“Toa, its Josmarak, he’s dying!” The matoran exclaimed.
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wildpelt
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Post by wildpelt on Nov 5, 2013 13:06:57 GMT -12
Brothers in All But Blood: Chapter 3
Death, Deals, and Deadly Dispositions
Ronnak bent over the sickly form of his brother, Josmarak. He could hear his raspy breaths as the poison began taking its toll. Josmarak looked up at him vaguely with glassy eyes and dilated pupils. As he tried to take another breath, he broke into a horrible coughing fit. As his lungs racked themselves dry, Ronnak backed up in fear. He gasped as blood fountained at his lips. Then, he slunk back into a state of unconsciousness. His breathing, however, didn’t improve.
“And you couldn’t quick-do anything for him?” Ronnak seethed. The two matoran tending to him looked at Ronnak with shock.
The first matoran, a male Ba-matoran named Gernt, replied, “Well, oh-mighty-toa, as soon as he regained consciousness, he started to attack everyone. We only got him to calm down a few minutes ago.”
“But this poison is destroying him!” Naromai cried.
“I understand, but the odds of us saving him now are very slim.” The second matoran replied more gently.
Ronnak turned away, dangerously close to tears. While he hadn’t known his new brother for long, it seemed like a cruel twist of fate for Mata Nui to send him away on his journey now. Josmarak had never been the easiest toa to get along with, but he had at least been the second toa to great him when he arrived. He suddenly remembered him laying a hand on his shoulder as he had shuddered at his new fate. He suddenly felt guilt for not showing up at the battlefield sooner. He sobbed as he realized that his timing may have sealed his fate. He fell to his knees, ignoring the startled expressions across the room. A tide of emotions flowed over him as he lay on his knees. As tears filled his Miru, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Blinking away tears, he saw Gretuda kneeling over him with a similar expression.
“Sobbing won’t help him.” Gretuda said.
“What…wha do you mean?” He stuttered out.
Gretuda said nothing, but motioned for Naromai to join them. Stymied, she shuffled over to where they kneeled. Gretuda looked at Naromai with such passion in his eyes she nearly stepped backwards. Ronnak blinked and tried to figure out what was happening. Then, just as he had formed a hypothesis, she gasped and shook her head.
“Gretuda! That could kill us!” She cried.
“No, it won’t,” The toa of ice said calmly, “I’ve had to do it before on Mordnand.”
“Um…hello, are you all think-listening to me?” Ronnak asked. They ignored him.
“The act alone could kill us! Remember last time?” Naromai stated. Gretuda then chuckled.
“That one was on you.” He stated ominously.
“Hello? I’m still ever-here rahi-brains.” Ronnak said, rising so he stood next to Gretuda. They still ignored him.
“There is no way! The act alone-”
“Stop repeating the same statement, woman,” Gretuda ordered, “I am fully aware of the implications.”
By now, Ronnak had lost it. He smacked Gretuda on the mask, sending his Matatu into the wall. He fell down in shock and surprise. Before he could react again, Ronnak was on top him in an instant.
“What are you all quick-talking about!??!?!” Ronnak declared. Naromai turned to him and sighed.
“Gretuda is suggesting something that has only worked maybe 5 times in all known matoran history. The process involves invoking your inner toa power and channeling it into a host. This, when combined with either water or plasma, allows the person to slowly accelerate their normal healing process. The only problem is it requires the upmost concentration, or otherwise all your toa power is used up. If that happens, you cease to exist. I was once a part of a team that tried to use the power. It ended up causing our leader to fade from existence.” Naromai narrated.
“That is quite enough, female,” Gretuda said, mockingly, “Ronnak, the act always heals the accepter. The only problem is maintaining your focus long enough to complete the process. It was invented by Helyrix herself to my knowledge, and she is the only one to never have a casualty in the process.”
“Wait, is this some ancient-old spell-trick, or is this ever-real?” Ronnak queried.
“This is real stuff,” Naromai replied, “And dangerously so.”
“Ronnak, what she means is that the feat is extremely hard. I have only done it once, and I still feel the wounds from it. It is like having your power pulled like a rope from your hands. If you don’t hold on, then it is gone and you lose. The problem is, if you lose this one, you don’t get a second chance.” Gretuda replied icily.
“I say that we grab-take this chance. If we can quick-stop the nasty-venom in him, then I will ever-risk my toa-power.” Ronnak declared bravely, despite inside he felt a pit of fear.
“Gretuda?” Naromai asked. He stayed silent.
“Gretuda, you’re not honestly thinking of agreeing to this madness, are you?!” She gasped.
Gretuda paused, and then said, “It could work. I’ll take that risk.”
Naromai looked at them in shock and horror. Then, taking a deep breath, she sighed.
“I’ll do it, but don’t you even think of saying that you were never warned by me.”
Ronnak stood at Jormarak’s left arm, breathing heavily. Gretuda positioned himself across from Ronnak, while Naromai stood at the fallen toa’s head. Josmarak lay there, barely breathing. Blood was already fountaining at his lips. Ronnak sighed as he watched him struggle for life. He knew then that he was going to have to do this, or suffer his conscience. Naromai looked at them expectantly, ready to perform the task he knew she loathed. Ronnak sighed and looked at Gretuda.
“This is hard to explain, so you’ll just have to experiment,” He began, “In order to access your power, you must summon your element first. The hard part is you then have to try to summon the energy behind the power. It isn’t easy, and even harder to comprehend. When you summon your element, you have to try to separate them.”
Ronnak didn’t even remotely understand, but nodded anyway. He looked at Naromai, then back to Gretuda. Gretuda nodded; he was ready to start.
Gretuda extended his left hand, a crystal of ice forming in-between his fingertips. The crystal became larger, forming the shape of a diamond. Then the diamond spun, gathering mass as it rotated. After it was a foot in diameter, the ice glowed reverently. The light inside it was a sickly blue, almost like a reactor core melting. Shards of the crystal started to fade as it grew, becoming more and brighter. Gretuda’s face started to contort in various forms, the most common being pain. Ronnak saw the light descend upon Josmarak, surrounding him in its glow.
Ronnak decided that it was now time to start. He summoned a sphere of air in his right palm. As he felt the air materialize around him, he started trying to search for the power behind it. He thought hard, trying to find what he couldn’t. As he searched, he then suddenly became overwhelmed with a feeling of power. He gasped as he felt the globe in his hand glow fluorescent green. He suddenly felt pain flow through his arm as the power increased. The feeling was alien to him. He then suddenly felt his own power start to strip away from him. He reached out with is mind, a feeling that only he could describe. Brushing against his power, he grasped it with all his might possible. The power felt like trying to hold onto a lava ell that had been immersed in water. Still, he noticed with glee that the aura that surrounded his brother had expanded to include his color.
As he felt the little strength he had recovered from the incident fade, he heard Naromai start to chant wildly. She raised her arms up, her face the vision of agony. As she summoned her powers, a globe of water suddenly merged with the aura that had begun to surround Josmarak. Noticing this, Ronnak fought to supply even more power to his brother. Now in extreme pain, he gasped and groaned. He suddenly had a horrible feeling of powerlessness. Then Naromai passed out, relinquishing the pain that now gripped him.
Gretuda started to fade; his own glow had already faded completely. However, Ronnak felt his own power start to decrease as well. Gretuda stepped back, unable to maintain his spell. Ronnak suddenly felt the vision of exhaustion sweep over him, driving him back against the wall. Gretuda fared no better. Ronnak dimly thought of how Narmoai was passed out on the floor as well. Fighting his pain and tiredness, he staggered to his brother he had just tried to heal. Smiling, he noticed that he had his breathing stabilized. He smiled as he fell unconscious.
“I’m sorry, how are you again?” The Po-matoran asked. He was standing as a sentry guard at the entrance to the village. He had his mask pressed up against a small slit cut into the outer wall. From his vantage point, the darkness was covering the being’s face and form. Still, he could feel the air around him chill at his presence.
“My name is Mutran, and I believe that Mordnand is expecting me.” The figure called Mutran replied.
“How am I able to know that?” The matoran asked. The attack earlier that week had unsettled him.
“It’s not supposed to. I am just giving you the information you asked for.” The response was followed by a brief chuckle.
“What are you, a Makuta?” The tiny figure asked.
Mutran laughed hysterically. Behind him, two visorak emerged: a keelerahk and a boggarahk.
“If only you knew how right you were.”
Mordnand walked slowly to the tower, eager to take his next watch. He had just recently received a mysterious message from a person who claimed to know him. Even more disturbing was the fact that the message was a business transaction that he had hoped to keep secret. He could recall a point of his past he would rather forget. He shuddered as he remembered having to enact that deal to save his original team. It was an act he was ashamed of; one that he could never repay himself for.
Picking up his pace, he walked across the gap between the tower and the square. As he walked across the bridge, he felt a familiar presence. He stopped dead in his tracks as the remembered a shadowy figure that had stalked him for decades. He felt memories dwell on him with a lucid clarity. He felt a flashback intrude on his mind. He suddenly saw himself talking to a mysterious figure in an alley. He once again felt the pain of having to agree to a horrid deal to save his brothers. He once again saw the sword protrude from the dark, cutting his hand and sealing his fate in blood. The black skies once again converged on him and the pact took immediate effect. The agony of knowing what he now was forced to do would forever consume his honor if discovered. Finally, he once again remembered having the pain of knowing his fate converge on him.
“Hello Mordnand,” A raspy voice sounded, “I was expecting you to come alone. What, 200 some thousand years and you can’t get out of that habit?”
Mordnand once again felt horrible flashbacks attack him, bathing him in guilt and pain. He stared forward, consumed in emotion, unable to think of a name. He could remember a horrible fate attack his consciousness. Finally, he placed a face to a name, and stuttered out angrily.
“Icarax, what are you doing here?”
“Arise toa, and see what your deed has accomplished!”
Ronnak sputtered as he felt a bucket of icy water spill over him. Surprised, tired, and angry, he stood up, turning to face his attacker. He brandished his sword before realizing that he was facing a wide-eyed Josmarak. The toa looked at him with extreme fear in his eyes.
“Josrmarak, how have you- I mean, how did you?” Ronnak tried to begin.
“Don’t worry; you are fine air-head. In fact, what you did has left me more than fine.” Josmarak laughed.
Ronnak stared at him, realizing something was different. At first, he couldn’t place it. He started to scrutinize his armor. Then he gasped. It was still Josmarak, but something had changed. His armor was now a silver mixture of Ronnak’s, Gretuda’s and Naromai’s armor. Every detail about him was perfected, right down to his smallest gears. Ronnak traveled his eyes across his now mutated form in wonder. Finally, he rested his eyes on a symbol imbedded into his chest plate. The symbol mirrored that of the three virtues. The difference was the top crescent was the color Gretuda had emitted when the ice converged on him. Naromai’s color was present in the orb. Finally, at the bottom, Ronnak’s fluorescent green had permeated the final crescent.
“That was probably the best sleep I have ever had after you did that to me,” Josmarak told him, “When I awoke, I felt like I oculd attack all of Destral and Daxia combined. Thanks for the little nifty symbol too, it really compliments my armor.”
“But…how did we ever-do it?” Ronnak gasped.
“Dunno, all I do know is that I am fine, thanks to you all.” Josmarak looked at Ronnak with undying thanks.
Ronnak stood up, looking his newly changed brother stand before him. Josmarak was a tall toa who had arrived on the island third, just after himself and Mordnand. He was slightly taller than all of the others, and he had insisted on wearing wrist blades instead of normal blades. He had to argue with their blacksmith for weeks. All that Ronnak knew of his past was he had come from the De-matoran settlement, which was rumored to be as silent as the grave. Apparently a battle had taken place with a rahi that left the matoran angry. This, combined with their sensitive hearing, made them banish the poor toa away from them. This made Josmarak the only toa to volunteer to come to this great-beings forsaken island. Although Ronnak would never admit it, he envied him for having a choice in the matter. He loved the burly toa, but he would never forget that Josmarak was given a privilege he never would never have.
“Well, the mighty toa has awakened.” A female voice sounded. Ronnak turned to see Naromai stare at him. He smiled and straightened up.
“You can’t keep a good toa-hero down can you?” He chuckled.
“I guess not.” While he couldn’t tell so by her voice, he knew by her stance that she was hiding something; she was leaning against the wall with her arms against her legs.
“Sister, what is ever-wrong?” Ronnak asked. She shuffled.
“I…well…I…” She stuttered. Ronnak frowned.
“Sister, were you hurt? Do you need us to search-look for any injuries?” He queried.
“No…it’s just that…I wanted to apologize.” She said.
“Apologize?” Ronnak asked.
“I told you that it was impossible to save him. I…I should never of doubted the power of unity. I am sorry.” She replied. She looked at the floor.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, because you did it.” Josmarak said. She appeared unconvinced.
Ronnak shuffled and spoke: “Sister, why do you think you are bad-wrong? Even if you did try to ever-stop us, it was out of your quick-fear, not out of your unhappiness. You are ever-fine for whatever you tried-started.”
“Really?” She whispered.
“Of course, sister. Now let us go-” Ronnak was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Before any of them could react, the door swung open. There, framed in the light, stood a large, 15foot being. The red and black armored beast stepped inside, brushing against the ceiling. His mask was unidentifiable, but in his arm he carried an unmistakable long sword. His yellow eyes scanned them. The three toa brandished their weapons in fear.
“Oh, I am sorry to intrude,” The being began without any real trace of apology, “I am Makuta Icarax. Me and my partner Mutran are here to talk…business with you and the matoran.”
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wildpelt
New Member
Superman
What do I do as moderator again?
Posts: 21
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Post by wildpelt on Nov 5, 2013 13:07:30 GMT -12
Brothers in All But Blood: Chapter 4
Intruders become allies
Ronnak now knew he was having the strangest moment of his lifetime. Sure, he had fought a Tahtorak, wrestled with a Troller, had his toa power be zapped out of his body to heal his brother, and been teleported to an island with 5 strange toa who were all placed there to guard something or someone. Ronnak had always thought of his life as a mixture of strange events, similar to obstacles on a test track. When the moment came, you had to hit it head on.
However, he had to admit this was the strangest of all. Here he was, sitting adjacent to Makuta Icarax, the deputy of the Brotherhood of Makuta. To his left sat Mordnand, who was eying the floor like he had just stepped on some prized Lava ell. Naromai sat at the end, looking bewildered at Makuta Mutran, who was at the end of the table. Mutran was fiddling with a rock. Ronnak would have dismissed this as insanity until the rock suddenly opened an unforeseen mouth and swallowed a fly. Josmarak sat to his left, and flinched as the rock enjoyed its meal. Finally, Gretuda sat at the other end of the table, looking at the Makuta as if they were intruders.
Just as they should ever-be, Ronnak thought, why did they quick-fly to this dark-damp island?
As Ronnak pondered the thought, Icarax rose up. His gaze shifted over the room in a mixture of pity and disgust. He spat on the floor and spoke. Ronnak thought it sounded similar to metal being scraped over metal.
“I am…sorry for the intrusion by our rahkshi,” He began, “They were stupid creatures who had no mind whatsoever. They detached from the squad to attack you.”
Icarax sounded more like he was angry at them for not dying than apologetic for them attacking and nearly killing them.
“Might I ask why they were here in the first place?” Gretuda asked coolly.
“We needed to scout out a place to land our ship. They were supposed to swing back before they got to the village.” Mutran replied. His voice sounded more like a weird worm that just learned to speak.
Naromai spoke next, “We welcome you, Makuta. Please don’t think we do not. However, it is simply odd to have a ship arrived unnoticed on our shores. We apologize for any inconvenience.”
“Well you should.” Mutran muttered.
“Mordnand, I haven’t seen you in years!” Icarax suddenly announced, “Last I saw of you, you were signing the fate of your brothers off to me.”
Mordnand stiffened noticeably. He gasped slightly, as if the guilt he was feeling was escaping him. Ronnak looked at him with a questioning gaze. Mordnand shot a fearful glance back.
“Haven’t told them of your past yet?” Icarax queried. Mordnand gave a forced shrugged.
“Mordnand?” Naromai asked softly. He didn’t look at her.
“Um…,” Ronnak tried to begin, “I don’t mean to be ever-rude, but I would like to quick-know why these Makuta-beasts are on our shores.” Mutran shot him a glare at his last chutespeak.
“Why yes, oh toa. You must certainly know what we want.” Mutran replied hotly.
“Listen well toa, your lives may depend on it.” Icarax growled.
Icarax pulled out a small crystal that had two small buttons on its hexagonal surface. He laid it onto the table and pressed the smaller button. The crystal shimmered, and then began to play a recording. All four toa looked on it interest.
“To the toa of Guentra, this is Makuta Miserix. I thank you for allowing my two warriors onto your shores. I wish you all great prosperity and good lives.”
“Yeah right.” Gretuda growled. Icarax threw a stasis field around him. Instantly, he froze in time and space.
“Hey!” Ronnak stood up, but he was forced back too.
“Listen, please.” Mutran asked.
“A recent threat has demanded a surplus of needs for our armies. We have noticed that the League of Six Kingdoms is starting to overstep their boundaries. In order to combat this threat and allow peace to presume, we need to have more weapons. As documents suggest, we have selected this island for a proposal. We need you all to manufacture weapons.”
Miserix went on to describe various types and designs for weapons. As a new type of thing would be mentioned, a hologram of said item would be displayed above it. The toa couldn’t help but be entranced by this stunning display. As a new rahkshi staff came up, slight motions made them all jump backwards in surprise. Mutran laughed at this, Icarax simply shrugged. Ronnak stared, mystified by the display. It wasn’t until the order itself came up they all stood there in shock.
“40,000 suits of armor for rahkshi?!?” Ronnak gasped.
“You want us to supply every single one of your creatures with staffs in 3 weeks!?!” Naromai gasped.
“That is impossible!” Mordnand stuttered.
Josmarak, who hadn’t spoken or looked the slightest entranced or upset the entire time, took three steps forward and screamed: “If you all think you can just waltz in here with fancy gadgets and demand this of us, your insane!”
Mutran looked at Icarax with something that resembled pity. Icarax stood on the verge of anger, glaring at Josmarak. He foxed an iron gaze on him, rage seething from his lips.
“You will be…paid greatly for this exchange. You will be given almost 1/8th of the fortune of Destral for this great deed. If you agree to our proposal, you will be greatly rewarded.”
“What reward would there be for trying to arm the most hideous monsters of all time,” Josmarak seethed. He lost his tongue and continued, “You wish for us to make the most unreasonable demand in history and try to generate armor at a rate never before seen in history! There is no way this will ever be-”
Icarax whipped out a hidden sword, a wickedly curved blade with a serrated edge. Josmarak had not the chance to defend himself before he had the blade on his chest. Whipping it upwards, he fell over as it hit his chin. A small trickle of blood formed at the edges of his lips just as he hit the floor. The blade was back to his throat before he could even gasp. Angered, he slumped down further, trying to get under it.
“What are you doing?” Naromai screamed. She flung herself at the Makuta, worried sick. As she saw what was happening, she stopped.
“Josmarak, stop fighting.” She ordered. Josrmarak, seeing this, he relaxed. Icarax still refused to move his blade, though.
“What we have just offered is the chances of a lifetime,” Mutran sneered, “You all are being given the greatest opportunity to become a great providence in our lands. Did you even know you are just 40 mio south of us? You could sail to us in one day. This would help us greatly in moving our armies. You all could simply make them, ship them to us, and then easily receive payment. You could easily fortify your walls, improve your homes, and build a shipyard, while still having almost all of it left over. You all can’t afford to pass this down this offer.”
“Do you honestly think that you have the power-authority to do this?” Ronnak asked.
“I do and I shall!” Icarax roared, “You all need this! You are the only island we can ask without repercussions! If you all refuse, then we will-”
“They get the point, Icarax.” Mutran quelled him.
“Wait, oh great Makuta-beasts,” Ronnak began, “Just how short-quick time are you ever-giving us?”
“6 weeks for the first 20,000. The rest are expected the following moon.” Mutran said in a sing-song voice.
“WHAT?!?” Gretuda screamed.
“That is the deal. Take it or leave it.” Icarax growled. The toa all knew they couldn’t afford the leave this deal.
“Just what in Mata Nui’s name is going on?!” Yelled a toa outside. Ronnak looked outside and smilled.
Hillin, toa of earth, stood, leaning on a staff. His rock-like armor glowed black like the Makuta sitting in the room. As they looked at him, he drew a long barreled gun. Ronnak had known Hillin the longest, often spending hours just talking with him. Although he was named after Makuta, he bore the name well. Hillin never knew where he came from; his mind was whipped, Gretuda had stated. Due to this, he was easy going and very friendly. He was a kind, considerate toa without any traces of anger except in the most aggravating of situations. If he was angry now, then Ronnak had a great idea of what was coming.
“Ah yes,” Icarax stated, “The toa named after a hero. What, come to say hi?”
Hillin pointed the gun at him. The Makuta flinched, knowing that the gun fired balls of light.
“Take it easy there.” Mutran sneered.
“I’ll back off when you all tell me why my brother nearly died of a rahkshi attack, a po-matoran completely disabled, and my brothers being attacked during what appears to be a business meeting!” Hillin roared. He fired a laser at Icarax. The blast knocked off his shoulder armor. Icarax tried to suffocate him, but he was unable to do so without upsetting Miserix.
“What I think he is trying to say is that we like to have a warning before doing anything.” Naromai replied. The others blinked at her questioningly.
Hillin seemed to get it, “Of course, sister. Sorry about that, sir.”
Icarax snorted.
“Please fill me in, Ronnak.” He said icily.
After Ronnak finished restating the request, he turned to Icarax. The Makuta looked to be on the verge of tearing down the entire island.
“Tell me, toa, are you going to accept this offer?” He growled.
“Yes, we are.” Hillin said. The other toa looked at him in fear.
“Hillin, what are you doing?” Naromai cried.
“Brother!” Gretuda shouted.
Icarax ignored them both. Raising his hand, he placed another crystal on the table. This one was flatter, with three buttons instead of two.
“Use the first crystal to replay our message,” Mutran explained happily, “The second one simply gives you step-by-step instructions on how to make our armor and weapons. We expect great things from you!”
Hillin reached out and took both of them. He placed them both in a satchel around his side. Laughing, he replied:
“Of course. BE here in two weeks, please.”
Icarax looked at Mutran, nodding. The two of them finally looked at them, sneered, and strode out. The two of them looked like blood in the full sunlight. The two of them quickly grew wings and flew off. The toa watched them go with mixed emotions. However, they soon turned their rage to Hillin.
“How could you! That was stupid and completely against the toa code!” Ronnak cried, forgetting chute speak in the process.
“Brother, why did you do that?” Naromai asked, although not gently.
“I think that Mordnand may know.” He stated icily. They all looked to him.
“Um…well…I. You see, um…” He tried to begin.
“Hillin, don’t question him. He may lock up.” Josmarak asked, now free of his restraints.
“Well…you see, I, um, know, um, Mutran from…before.” Mordnand vaguely explained.
“What? You knew that ugly-beast before he ever came-flew over here?” Ronnak asked.
“Um…I was in Metru Nu, you see…and I was…”Mordnand faltered again.
“Brothers, we can’t question him if he won’t give us answers.” Gretuda stated bluntly.
The other toa looked at Mordnand. Since the beginning of the meeting, he had been upset and depressing. He hadn’t spoken at all, only stared a Mutran. Ronnak now knew something was up, but he couldn’t get what it was. Whenever Mutran spoke, he had shot his head up, as if Mordnand expected him to reveal something he didn’t want revealed. All the toa looked at him with distrust.
“Fine,” Josmarak stated, “You have until tomorrow, Mordnand, to tell us what you know. Then we will have to see whose side you are on.”
The other toa suddenly realized what he was implying. Half of them looked at Mordnand with suspicion.
“Mordnand, you didn’t…” Ronnak could finish.
“Let’s not question him now,” Naromai stated firmly, “We need to start fulfilling our orders.” She looked hotly at Hillin.
“Fine, let’s go.” Gretuda stated.
Each toa except for Mordnand filed out of the chamber slowly. The toa looked around, guilt-stricken and horrified. He knew what was happening, and he wished he had the ability to figure out what was going to happen.
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