[right][b]DEMONS BONEYARD // THIRD MOONRISE OF SECOND SEASON[/b]
[sub]All language within - [b]{ }[/b] - is translated to 'English' from Native.[/sub][/right]

Cries Relentlessly didn't waste any time, turning around immediately. [color=f7976a]{Wait here, do not attempt to enter and do not allow anyone else to try and access this room either. I am off to find Son'ta'ck.}[/color]
The younger Enthusiastically Incorrect tilted his head curiously. 

[color=f49ac2]{Why would we need the Inquisitor?}[/color] Cries Relentlessly could barely hear him though, as his pack pushed him away from the bowels of the ship. 

[color=f7976a]{It is dangerous, wait here. Do nothing.}[/color] Drifting through the halls, and between bulkheads. He had seen that marker in his studies, it was the symbol the demons attributed to something they called 'radiation'. They used this radiation to power their ships, however, they also used it to create powerfully explosive ordnance. There had been instances in the past, where such devices had been set off either accidentally or part of some demon trap. No, the only safe path forward was to bypass any potential security by cutting open the door. The only one who had the equipment to cut through the door of reinforced metal was the Inquisitor. None of the other tools they had present would be up for the job.

Entering what was once some form of the observation deck, with large windows that were cracked and broken, an armoured warrior sat with his legs crossed hovering in the middle of the room. Using his jets to force himself to the deck, and his knees. [color=f7976a]{Inquisitor. We require your assistance, with great urgency.}[/color] Cries Relentlessly bowed his head as low as possible. 

[color=BA55D3]{Rise, Breaker.}[/color] The hovering Inquisitor opened his eyes, looking the Tainted up and down. There was always a certain air of [i]displeasure[/i] when dealing with the elderly warrior. Cries Relentlessly knew that the old warrior would rather be away fighting, rather than spending his life in zero-G on a demon vessel while the tainted took it apart. [color=BA55D3]{What could you have possibly found that is of interest to me? All the warriors are long gone.}[/color] 

Cries Relentlessly raising his head slowly. [color=f7976a]{We have found the weapons battery, I believe there are weapons of great destructive power. I fear if we mismanage this situation we will end up re-creating the events of the big flash-}[/color] An event twenty years ago, when dismantling a demon vessel a great explosion obliterated all the nearby ships. Hundreds lost their lives, ships were damaged and destroyed. This was the reason all salvage operations had an Inquisitor present, with the fleet of support vessels nearly an hours flight away. [color=f7976a]{-I need you to come and cut open the door, to avoid activating any traps the demons may have left behind.}[/color]

[hr]

[right][b]SHELTER OF THOSE WHO SHAPE // THIRD MOONRISE OF SECOND SEASON[/b]
All language within - { } - is translated to 'English' from Native.[/right]

Requires Discipline sat in the corner of the feeding hall, trying to ignore all the dirty looks and glances the others gave him. To be Mavon was to be the most respected of all the Tainted. That, however, wasn't saying very much in the grand scheme of things. They still viewed him as a dirty thing, a necessary evil. The ones who worked with the demons' technology, dirtied their eternal soul for the benefit of the Chosen. He had been given over to the Tainted when he had barely learnt how to walk and never known any different—the most basic of clothes, food, and constant education. By the age of five they were expected to be fluent in 'English', the most prominent of all the Demons Tounges.

He picked up another slice of the Ovis meat and placed it in his mouth. Chewing it thoroughly to release all the flavour before swallowing it whole. The meat was rich and heavy. Requires Discipline closed his eyes to enjoy the taste, he could spend all his day here. Looking back down at his food, he looked up as a shadow was cast over his tray. Before him stood a young male, barely fifteen winters. He said nothing and just hovered over him. Requires Discipline swallowed, and spoke. [color=brown]{Is there an issue, young one?}[/color]

The youngling cleared his throat, his voice croaking in the struggles of youth.  [color=royalblue]{Apologies Mavon, my name is Pla'ck.}[/color] The youngling bowed his head, a gesture that not many of the Chosen extended towards the tainted. Even him, as Mavon was still a lower caste than any of the others. He was simply, the top of lowest. 

[color=brown]{And how can I help you Pla'ck?}[/color]

[color=royalblue]{-I heard you were chosen to be Mavon, as you desire to be a Shaper?}[/color]

[color=brown]{I aim to improve the God-Given technology, to try and remove our reliance on the Demon Technology, because as we wipe them out it becomes rarer and rarer, and harder to maintain.}[/color]

The young one nodded his head retrospectively, Requires Discipline though that that was the conversation. Eventually however he spoke quietly. [color=royalblue]{A noble cause.}[/color] There was a whistle from the far side of the room, and the youngling snapped his head in the direction of the whistle, Requires Discipline put another piece of meat into his mouth and turned to look lazily. Seeing a tall, well toned and stunning female. 

[color=limegreen]{Come Pla'ck!}[/color]

The young-one turned back to the Mavon. [color=royalblue]{Sorry, that is my tutor. I must go.}[/color] Requires Discipline waved his hand farewell, and watched as the youngling left, his eyes focused on his tutor.