tex

Caravan: Resurrection

Hi'Wor didn't notice the Kul Tribesmen enter his tent. He was concentrating on to his opponent, a Lok'Sha much larger than him, with ever last shred of consciousness. For a member of the Wor, the Chieftain's son was on the smaller side. Compared to every other man and woman in the room, he was in fact an imp by contrast. But his size had not been a disadvantage against his opponent who'd had nearly two feet on him. Hi'Wor shifted his weight from side to side, weaving through his opponent's strikes and grapples, while landing various combinations of his own. A high right. Hi'Wor ducked it and struck the attacker's stomach three times. They responded by grabbing his shoulders and immediately tearing him off the ground, but it wasn't as it seemed. He jumped into the attempted grappled and grabbed onto the man's inner arms, while lifting himself up and stomping against his stomach with both feet. When Hi'Wor's opponent leaned forward, he'd let himself fall back, using the momentum to toss him clear across the arena.

"Move!" the younger Lok'Sha roared, "You sluggish!" The opponent scrambled to rise to his feet, but was quickly pinned by the full weight of his superior's smaller body. Hi'Wor wrapped the larger man's neck with his bicep and began to squeeze. His grip got tighter and tighter. A struggle ensued. The two thrashed about as the larger man found some footing, and Hi'Wor moved around his body carefully as to avoid being tossed, while maintaining his grip. The headlock quickly served its purpose, and in only a few more moments, their struggle came to a pause. Ju'Kul patted Za'Kul on the back and stepped forwards. Hi'Wor had choked his opponent out.

After the unconscious warrior was dragged away by a couple of the large bystanders, Hi'Wor finally took notice of the two dark skins that had stepped foot in his tent. He recognized one of them immediately, Ju'Kul, Ha'Kul's lapdog. He didn't remember the Chieftain's son, though. They might have met at some point in the past, but like most in the Wor clan, he couldn't be bothered to remember every last Dark skin that mucks through their caverns.

"Ju'Kul, here to bargain?" Hi'Wor shouted whilst making his way across the tent.

"Yes-" As soon as Ju'Kul spoke, Hi'Wor took a long step forward and punched him right in the gut. Earlier, Ju'Kul had barely flinched when taking a hit from one of the larger guards at the Wor Tribe's entrance. This time, his feet shook and his muscles trembled. Ju'Kul stood his ground, but only barely.

"Nothing to bargain about!" Hi'Wor shouted, "Conditions are known! Don't come back without ten men!" He glanced at Za'Kul and then back at the larger warrior. "One not enough! Bring larger Lok'Sha. Ten men! Ten!"

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Bringing Plot Together.

Underrated and Overrated Video Games

I do recall putting Horizon down after the slow pacing got to me. I think after playing so many open world games, I just couldn't be bothered to sift through the first 10 hours without getting bored. Maybe I should go back to it.

A Hero Tale {Complete}

Zelraka didn't react quickly enough to the first blade. He couldn't hear or feel its approach through the vacuum. But could it penetrate his barrier despite that?

The blade pierced deep into the lime green aura, going straight through Zelraka's abdomen and just barely erupting from the opposite side. The stave on the other hand, was stopped short by the monstrous barrier around him. Zelraka didn't let him escape after that though. With his left hand, he grappled Gideon's wrist, holding it tightly in place as the blade pierced through one of his hearts and knicked his stomach. Zelraka coughed up a fair amount of blood, coating his chin and the top of his chest.

"Man that stings," He groaned, "Didn't think you'd be able to break through, let alone hurt me." Zelraka's grip tightened around Gideon's hand. "But this doesn't change a whole lot." With his right hand, the man clasped his fist tightly and forced the ordinance around them to shrink faster, until it was no wider than a few yards around them. "Would you like ta' know why you could never possibly win?"

Caravan: Resurrection

After helping Daelin back on board, Zay rushed over to where he saw Pyra get launched. With his hands he swept away smoke, thinning it quickly as he made his way to the Caravan's ledge. There he saw Pyra hanging, just barely. He reached down quickly and yanked the Eldi up with as much care as possible, until he was back on top of the cart. His hand felt cold, like metal, and smooth like glass.

Zay turned towards Daelin's voice, just barely able to make out was he was saying through a sharp ringing in his ears. Marilyn took that head-on? What did the mean about the Venbu? He could barely see more than a few yards in any direction. The smoke and the darkness combined was too much. "We need a head count, and we need light," Zay declared, "Get inside the cart and make sure everyone is ok. Noru is priority. If we lose him, our injuries might as well be a death sentence." He knelt by Pyra and looked him over. "Pyra. Can you walk?"

Outside of the powdery cloud, the Myti were on the move already. The two Myti in the trees aimed carefully into the smoke, judging where to aim carefully from the alien smells that hid within the explosive aftermath. One fired something into the powder a moment after Zay leaned down, a single iron-tipped arrow. The other held a different type of arrow carefully, waiting patiently in case his aid was needed. They weren't about to waste supplies where they weren't needed.

Zay lurched forwards only slightly as the arrow hit him, but the sound was not likened to that of tearing flesh. As it hit his bare upper body, it sounded like the arrow had ricocheted off of metal. Zay turned towards where he felt the arrow come from and raised a hand, firing a flurry of silver spikes in the direction of the archers. All of them failed to hit anything, succeeding only in impaling the trees where the two assassins once stood. They moved and began to take aim again.

<sub>"What did you hit?"

"I don't know, armor? I thought he was bare-chested!"</sub>

"Daelin, quick! Indoors! I'll be fine!" Zay shouted.

From the foot of the caravan, the two Myti that once hit in the trench climbed up and quickly positioned themselves outside of the pilot's seat. It seemed that Marilyn was missing, something that both of the cat-women noticed long before anyone else. Was she flung off of the cart in the explosion?

From above, Sasha looked down and waited patiently. Without the use of her Psy stone, she grabbed the shoulders of her two partners and spoke to them telepathically.

"Our archers have not made contact, wait 5 seconds and then drop." She let go of them and engaged her gauntlets, using them to climb along the underside of the giant rock like a spider, stopping just above the Caravan. The other two Myti approached the edge, and stood quietly for their chance to follow up.

Neale Geroldus was awake now, but had bruised his shoulder after his unfortunate collision. "What the hell is going on?" He wheezed, falling forward onto one knee. Despite his injuries from earlier, the Captain didn't sustain any significant injuries from his rude awakening. The Captain looked over to where Flin had landed in front of him, and moved towards the man while keeping low. Then he noticed Lyullia on the other side of the small table, completely unconscious. "No..." He gasped, "No, this is just like before! Boy, boy!" Neale took hold of Flin's arm and tried to shake him, "Are you conscious?"

Caravan: Resurrection

Ju'Kul rose his hand and waved the guards aside. They grit their teeth, but reluctantly stepped out of Kul's path and let the two men proceed further inward. A few Lok'Sha, familiar faces in the Deeper Tunnels, scurried past the two men and down into the tunnel that led back towards their home. Ju'Kul didn't notice them pass through the Kul Campsite earlier. Had they been outside the Deeper tunnels for some time? He shrugged it off as nothing as the two cradled supplies near their chest or under their arms, and proceeded past the Wor Tribe's guards. Ju'Kul Motioned to Za'Kul with his shoulder. 'Come'. They were officially knee-deep in the wretched atmosphere of the Wor Tribe.

The main cavern was similar to Kul's Hearth site. But rather than lining only the edges of the cavern, camps and forges were littered throughout the entire breadth of the cave. Ladders and stairwells led up towards the wooden paths, where despite the limited support, several more forges and campsites were dug into the walls. It was like the entire cavern was alive with sheer energy, a polar opposite to the dank and lifeless darkness of the Kul Tribe's residing. Even in the darkness of the underground, Wor had something that made their cavern feel as if it were lit by an undying flame.

"Keep weapons sheathed," Ju'Kul said softly, leaning towards Za'Kul as they made their way past a few merchant stalls, "You here to speak for your father, not fight for him. Hi'Wor will hope for conflict, this I will not doubt." They neared a tent that was larger than all the rest, with white wooden logs making up its supports and curling around each other near the top. "He will use big words and make big actions." Ju'Kul looked up at the wooden pathways above them as he spoke now. Several Lok'Sha were glaring down at the darker-skinned Low-born as if they were intruders. Among the crowds however, there were other dark-skins that looked at them with fear and sadness painted across their faces. The fact that the Wor Tribe allowed so many from the Deeper tunnels into their caverns was a curious site. Although still outnumbered by others, they stuck out like sore thumbs, granting them disgusted glares in the exact same fashion that befell Za'Kul and Ju'Kul. "Many here wish for conflict with the deeper Lok'Sha. They let us up not out of kindness. It is a trap."

Ju'Kul approached the tent's entrance and casually lifted the clothed veil, beckoning Za'Kul to enter first. Inside, Hi'Wor could be seen with his fists raised high. He was facing another Lok'Sha, one much bigger than he was, in unarmed combat with a few of his most trusted tribe-mates watching from the edges of his tent. A Circle in the dirt kept the two fighters contained, but rarely did Hi'Wor heed its limits.

"The Wor draw a circle with their words," Ju'Kul whispered. He nodded to Za'Kul solemnly, and gestured with a greater warning.

'Do not step in it'

* * *

Earlier in the Day, 5:10 AM
Smor'Gen'Blok, Lu'Li'Po's Tent atop the Lok'Tri'Sha'Ra

Wor'Boa had made his way through the great Shaka Plateau after a few days of travel through the full scope of Smor'Gen'Blok's High and Higher Tunnels. The off-Color Lok'Sha put him on edge during his travels. Glares from the bright-skins pierced the chieftain's rock hard demeanor like spears. Wherever he walked, there was silence. But it wasn't because of his skin tone or his tribe.

It was because they knew who he was.

It was rare for even the high Tribes to step foot in the presence of greater Chieftains, let alone the holy Trident of Ruliman's highest peaks, the Lok'Tri'Sha'ra. But Wor'Boa had been here once before, to serve his previous Warlord and dear friend Koal'O. This had been long before the Wor tribe had grown to what it is now, defiled to no more than a rumor for those who did not witness his deeds first hand. Those who remembered his face, that wretched scar across his abdomen, his dreadful blood-stained hair, his orders as Koal'O's foremost general... They looked at him with nothing but contempt. They saw him as a threat to the current Warchief's ideology and the balance of Smor'Gen'Blok's new reign. A monstrous cretin. And why wouldn't they? If Koal'O had not been so dedicated to preserving Rajaka's blessings, Wor'Boa may have very well lead the berserker clan to its very extinction. Wor'Boa saw it differently though. In his mind, it was Koal'O's cowardice that prevented the Lok'Sha from exterminating the Paladin order once and for all.

Ever since the end of the last great war, the chieftain of the Wor Tribe had sworn to avenge not only the death of his friend, but the death of his ideology, the very ideology that made Lok'Sha who they were. But It had been over a century since the fall of Koal'O. War'Boa was nearing the end of his own life span quickly, despite already reaching a much higher age than most Lok'Sha in the entirety of Smor'Gen'Blok. He has failed to reach Lu'Li'Po or the great tribes time and time again after his deeds. But that's exactly why he stood here today. Wor'Boa had spent a century growing his army to an incomprehensible size among the high Tribes. Now, after three decades of trying to earn a meet with Lu'Li'Po, we was finally granted with the chance to see his new Warchief face to face.

After so many years of terrorizing the Lower Tunnels, word had finally reached Lu'Li'Po's ears. Word of a Tribe that had grown to number in the tens of thousands, large enough to oppress a fair potion of the Deeper Tunnels. The Wor'Boa were not the largest collection of Lok'Sha, but from what the Warchief could gather with her reliable aids that scurried through the tunnels, they were by far one of the most aggressive. Even the Great Shaka who show disagreement with their Warchief's new dogma, have reason to fear what Wor'Boa's people may bring to their people as a whole.

Wor'Boa was escorted into the Grand War Tent by several men. Lu'Li'Po's right hand commander, Mo'Rasha'Ka, was present inside of her tent when the Wor Chieftain arrived. Other figures of legend looked down on Wor'Boa as he arrived as well. The current head of the Berserker temple, Ovor'Pella. Head of intelligence, Yvo'O. Several Generals of the High Armies, including Jo'O, Mei'Shaka, and Nil'Noa'Ji. The tented off enclosure that he'd walked into was filled to the brim with Smor'Gen'Blok's most powerful monsters.

"I am to understand that you've been busy, Wor'Boa," Lu'Li'Po announced loudly, speaking with refinement that was even befitting of a human official.

"Wor have been very busy indeed, Warlord. Very busy," Wor'Boa grunted. Lu'Li'Po cringed at his archaic title. The two glared at each other with a rare intensity, the type that sparked between rivals who would seek out the title of Warlord. Wor'Boa finally broke the tension with a smile that crept out from behind his dangerously arrogant expression. Lu'Li'Po narrowed her eyes in response.

"I have several things that I wish to speak to you about."

"Overjoyed, I am," He chuckled, "I have waited a very long time to exchange words with you, after all."

Caravan: Resurrection

Ju'Kul didn't have to bother telling him to calm down. Za'Kul already knew their predicament all too well. The cave was beginning to widen by now, splitting off into two tunnels that arced around a single ornate pillar that stood in the center. Even at the highest pinnacle of the Smor'Gen'Blok underground, it was rare to see pristine minerals like marble used in any fashion. But this pillar was crafted of just that, and lined with various gemstones that the Wor had pilfered from the Deepest Tunnels. A great deal of marbel had been smashed together with elemental magic into this several-yard wide monument to the previous elders of Wor'Boa's tribe. Faces were carved into its circumference from bottom to top, leaving only one third of its surface blank for future chieftains and persons of interest to find a spot one day.

"Calm," Ju'Kul grumbled to himself as they passed by the pillar of Marble. To the Wor tribe, it was a remarkable recollection of its past 6 chieftains over the last few centuries. But it served another purpose outside of that, and the Wor were not ignorant of it.

It was a threat to any and all who entered from the Deeper tunnels, that they were a gleaming obstacle to the grey-skins and dark-skins alike. They were not to be trifled with.

The mouth of the twin tunnels immediately opened into the same cavern. Its ceiling was at least four times higher than that of the meek Kul's Cavernous expanse, and its Hearthstone was like a Titanic's tooth, reaching almost to the smoothed roof that stood over 12 meters above them. The edges of the main cavern were lined with crudely crafted wooden walk-ways. Lok'Sha were rarely capable of making anything that wasn't made of rock or gemstone look pretty, but the mountain men were apt enough to craft sturdy wooden projects. Still, despite being able to support nearly 100 Lok'Sha of varying sizes at a time, they looked perfectly breakable without too much effort. These walkways lined the walls in two layers above the ground level. One lead to tunnels that climbed higher into Smor'Gen'Blok, all the way to the Outer Tribes and High Tunnels, while the center walk-path traversed throughout all of the Deep Tunnels, and the rest of the Wor Tribe caverns. Even the ground level was lined with tunnels, but most of them connected to other sections of the Deeper Tunnels, many of which even the Kul did not have direct access to through their network.

Ju'Kul and Za'Kul were met with glares as soon as they passed through the twin-mouthed exit from the Deeper Tunnels. Several guards approached them, some of which were marked with the tattoos that signified node sharpening, others who simply stood almost eye-to-eye with Ju'Kul. For the overgrown warrior, seeing other Lok'Sha close to his size was always a little strange. If they had not been so aggressive towards him and his tribe, Ju'Kul would have felt right at home around his similarly-sized companions.

"Business with Wor'Boa-"

"Business with Fist!" One of the larger guards roared, smashing Ju'Kul right across the jaw with a casual hook. The large man took a step back in recoil, but stepped forward to meet the guard eye to eye with only a trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth. He smiled and laughed it off, wiping his mouth clean. The guard smiled too and took a step back. "Always pleasure, Ki'Loa."

"Pleasure for you to stand here alive!" Ki'Loa hissed through his teeth, "Wor'Boa gone to see Warlord Lu'Li'Po. Gone for days. Not return for days still."

"We receive his message last night!" Ju'Kul insisted.

"Yes, truth. You see Hi'Wor, not Wor'Boa."

Ju'Kul cringed. Wor'Boa might have acted as a tyrant in his commanding of the Wor Tribe, but he would see reason and think with some manner of pity for the lower tribes. At some points, he even demonstrated acts of generosity, born from such pity. Perhaps they were with intent to change the Low tribes. An attempt to subdue and convert their principals, perhaps even absorb them entirely into his own Tribe. But they were not without merit. Many actions that Wor'Boa followed through had been to the great benefit of tribes like the Kul, even if such acts held brutal consequences elsewhere.

Wor'Boa's son on the other hand, was a merciless monster.

Caravan: Resurrection

Ja'Kul shook his head with a heavy grunt that rumbled across the cavern. "More," He muttered as they climbed higher into the tunnels. Ja'Kul hesitated between every word that followed, like something was lodged deep in his chest. "Wor had not been so dishonorable in the past. Never think they come to treat us as even less than ant." The Wor Tribe caverns were not too far ahead. Only a few seconds of walking up, and they could hear the commotion begin to echo down towards them. Sounds of trade, work, laughter, and battle. The Wor Tunnels spanned farther than Kul's could ever hope to, covering enough of the underground Deep Tunnels to rival some of the smaller nations above ground. But from where they would enter, the titanic Hearth stone that kept the Wor safe stood high, marking the central nexus of their cavern space. Before the two Lok'Sha reached it, Ju'Kul finally spoke clearly to Za'Kul.

"Slaves."

Caravan: Resurrection

Marilyn looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. Purple bug guts everywhere. No wonder those little creatures took their leave. Somebody had gone and murdered a great number of them. She hated seeing that. Not only did the creatures that threatened them have to meet an unfortunate end, but now these harmless bugs too? She looked forward, and then up at the giant rock that loomed overhead while taking her hand out of her pocket.

It was completely silent before it happened.

<sub>"Detonate the charge"

"But you're..."

"Listen to her, runt."</sub>

KA-KOOOOM!!!

A thunderous crash bellowed across Baeshri pass with enough volume to rip through eardrums. The ground itself shook so violently that even nearby trees were not immune to the tremors. From beneath the giant stone spike, a yellow cascade of powder and mana erupted upwards, carrying with it chunks of Venbu Flesh and various metal scraps. The Caravan's main cart was tossed up violently, far past a 45 degree angle, to the point where the ground itself was at a sheer angle. Noru and Neale slipped from their bunks and were tossed from one side of the cabin to the other. The medic landed in the back room, where barrels and boxes were flung about, breaking their restraints and piling near the back of the storage room. Neale ended up smacked against one corner of the room, but not before smashing through Flin's bunk and cracking it in half. The others in the Cabin met a similar fate, ending up scattered across the room and likely strained with various serious injuries.

Daelin was flung straight up through the hatch lead to the top of the Caravan, right into the air. Zay held himself firmly on the railing, just barely able to keep himself from flying off the cart's edge, albeit at the cost of snapping several bones in his right wrist. His skin was enveloped in a silver coat, and he reached towards Daelin as quickly as possible, while desperately trying to keep his footing against the top of the cart. He felt his right foot twist and bend against the force of the explosion until it reached a point of injury. The pain of his sudden sprain almost sent him flying, but he just barely managed to keep from falling to the ground below.

The Venbu were tossed aside, and their reins were completely destroyed. One of the creatures toppled over and slid towards the edge of the path with nearly half of its body hanging over the trench below. The other lost a leg, and was launched skyward slightly, before hitting the ground was a blood curdling crunch. The pilot's seat was engulfed in the yellowish smoke immediately, but Marilyn's scream was loud enough to just barely seep through the explosive shock wave, even if only for a moment.

The cart traveled only a few yards forward after that, and then fell back down with a heavy thud. The steel wheels bent, but did not break, bringing the cart's forward momentum to a slow, sliding stop. The sound of warping metal creaked loudly, mixed with an earth drag as the tires dug into the path. By the time the cart had stopped moving, those responsible for its sabotage were already moving in to surround the yellow cloud of smoke that obscured all vision.

In one fell swoop, the impregnable fortress that deterred powerful beasts across Thoris was brought to a resounding halt.

* * *

Smor'Gen'Blok

"Never over with stupid Wor boys," Ju'Kul quipped through a quiet chuckle, "Always want more. Always threatening Low tribes. They have made very big demand last night while Kul's people sleep. We go to negotiate." Ju'Kul's usual demeanor vanished as he spoke. He was a shining example of what Ha'Kul looked for in a warrior, and a friend. With a smile that pushed away the darkness itself, a heart bigger than any Lok'Sha he'd ever met, and the stature of an ancient warrior, it was a wonder that he hadn't taken the role of chieftain long ago. Perhaps it was out of respect for Za'Kul's father? Or maybe it was cowardice? Whatever the reason, the big oaf was never too keen on discussing anything about himself... Unless he was bragging.

"Worse," Ja'Kul grunted, "Much worse this time. Not just supplies or work. Much worse for us." The two burly creatures made their way across the Low'Kul Cavern in no time at all, passing by Ha'Kul again in the process. Their Chieftain seemed lost in thought, too focused to wave or glance in his son's direction. Ja'Kul looked back at him briefly, and then spun his torso forward once again. They were approaching the maw of the path that lead out of the Deeper tunnels. A giant hole in the side of Kul's cavern, lined with jagged stalactites like it threatened to swallow them whole. It was guarded by a few men and women, donning red markings across their bodies.

It was normal for several Lok'Sha to sleep or stand guard right by the most dangerous tunnel entrances, close to the earth itself to feel for vibrations even as they slept. They were the recipients, or perhaps, the victims of a particular type of soul magic that enhanced the nervous system to unfathomable levels. Those who found themselves plagued with node sharpening have spoken of being able to feel the air itself. Changes in the atmosphere that ranged from vibration to breezes too gentle for the average Lok'Sha to notice played a part in giving them a nearly omnipotent aura. The trade off was rather brutal however.

Ja'Kul patted one of the men on the shoulder as the two passed by. The man winced in respond to Ja'Kul's touch. "Sorry bruddah," He whispered as they passed by.

Node sharpening amplified pain significantly.

Tired of taking part in dying RPs? Looking for a group!

At this point, discussions have begun with current individuals looking to participate.

For those of you who may be interested, you have a small window to get involved in the conversation, but anything confirmed as a group before your arrival will not be subject to much change. PM me personally for updates.