To Trust Another [Oboe]

Much didn’t pass through Oros Village that escaped the Guru’s preternatural sight. His connection to the planet, its creatures and inhabitants had offered the Namekian whom sat in the position and a tremendous boon. So, if only for this, it came to no surprise when the slightly unnerved Namekian entered his majestic home and temple and – without knowing – interrupted the young leader’s deep meditation. The stammer in which he offered gave clear indication that the one whom was requesting his presence easily didn’t seem to be a “Nice looking traveler”. Nevertheless, Guru would smile before reaching his right hand out to his side, magically a staff would appear in his waiting grasp.

Thank you, Viol. I’ll be right down

Guru spoke into the mind of his brother Namekian, his voice unheard by the outsider but acknowledged by the other without hesitation. Rushing back to the main village, the Namekian who had brought Duran excused himself before rushing back to his brethren.

For a moment, there was a silence. Nothing too intimidating, just a silence that came with the patience one had to have while waiting for another. However, as Guru descended the small magical lift pad towards the ground level, an intense pressure began to flow out of the open doorway. There was nothing malevolent about it, nor was there anything inherently offensive – simply…a massive gathering of power that held no true weight yet spoke volumes as to the reason the Namekians of this village were comfortable with strangers interacting with their leader.

To the other’s ocular enhancements, a strange flurry of readouts would come up as Oboe approached his doorway. One moment the power within the house seemed to read at ‘5’ while a split second later it was rising upwards to over a million before returning to a low twenty-thousand. For all intents and purposes, it may be perceived that the others sensory attachment was faulty or malfunctioning – yet this couldn’t be further from the reality. Without a sound and a warm hearty smile, Oboe would exit the tall abode – standing before the visitor without a hint of fear or concern. The grand staff, orange gem fixed to the top, seemed to gleam in the bright Namekian sun.

“Why, hello there – My apologies for making you wait…” Oboe took in the sight with a practiced response. With great effort, the Sage took in the appearance of the strange lifeform before him. At first, for lack of a better term, the life-form appeared to be Saiyan? Maybe slightly – or perhaps that was just a trick of having interacted with so many Saiyans over the last few months. His cybernetics however were indeed a bit intimidating. If he was not careful, Oboe was curious on if the other would attack his fellows.

“How may I be of assistance to you…Mr…?”

As Oboe approaches, Duran's Android Scouter would detect a number of fluctuating power levels, however it seems to settle at 5.

Max Power Level Base: 159,000
Energy Setting: 5

“Well Met Duran.”

At first glance, Duran was a very intimidating looking individual – so much so that he could understand the trepidation of his fellows. Nevertheless, his warm smile never faded even as the being stated he had business with him in private. Normally, when such words were spoken, it didn’t end well for him – but as of late, his luck had been getting a bit better on that front. As he asked if the name Korla sounded familiar, Oboe’s eyes would light up with understanding. This must be one of the few Tuffles the young Lady Korla had spoken of.

With an understanding to the others desire for privacy, Oboe would smile and nod before responding;

“Ah! Yes, I was expecting you – please join me in my home.”

It wasn't true, of course, but he had to keep up appearances. The desire for privacy had been made very clear. Moving to the side and gesturing with his Arm, the Namekian offered the entrance up to the other. It was clear that he had understood the meaning of mentioning the other, remembering her desire to keep the presence of her and her refugee people silent on the off-chance that they were still in danger. Even though the Namekian had promised to offer sanctuary, one could never be too careful in regards to such things.

If the stranger would enter, Oboe would follow from behind – using Magic to seal the entrance behind them with a shell of silence. Though unintentional, his people’s hearing was quite impressive and as such they were known to eaves drop from time to time. With the door sealing, Oboe welcomed his second guest since the creation of this new home – a structure built by himself and Miss Kitiana. Upon entering, the visitior would be welcomed by a very spartan living space. The center of the room was open, with few couches and chairs to sit in. Small tables and books were scattered – showing that the Namekian who lived here was studious.

A large circular edifice was carved into the center of the room; the lift pad that would raise them to higher locations in the home should they need to. To the left, immediately, was a massive library full of tomes and holo-recordings. It seemed the sort of collection one could spend hundreds of years reading and studying and never finishing. A testament to his peoples long history. Slightly ahead, additionally to the left and right were two other rooms; to the left, a kitchen that Oboe used for himself exclusively – having grown fond of food and teas, the other unseen as its door was closed.

“Please, have a seat, Duran.”

Without hesitation, Oboe took one of the small chairs closest to the window. It wasn’t that he preferred the spot over others, it was simply to ensure that he could provide his undivided attention without being distracted by the going ons outside. With a smile, he motioned and waited for the other;

“Tell me, how can I be of service to you?”

Oboe’s smile maintained the entire time, watching with great vested interest as the stranger eyed his home with an inquisitive gaze. Though he looked frightening, it became very clear that there was to be no hostilities within this meeting, allowing the Guru to let his guard down ever so slightly. It was clear that this person did not wish for refreshments, so when the time came, he would nod and listen as the other spoke to him from across the living-area. There was of course the curiousity as to what the topic of conversation would be, but as he could’ve guessed…

“I see!” he would state before the other continued.

It seemed that, according to the story being told, this Duran was indeed one of the other Tuffle refugees that had managed to make their way to Planet Namek from gods know where. As he was asked if Korla had explained the events that had led to her people’s displacement in the universe, the Namekian simply nodded to allow the other to continue. There was much vested interest in his words as he spoke – further introducing himself – as a being that had been forcibly bred with the Saiyan’s genetic markers.

It seemed that the young man before him had not been born, instead he’d been “Manufactured” in a sense, his entire life having been designed and setup for a single purpose; War. War with the Saiyans during their conflict on the planet once known as Plant. As he spoke on being “turned into the perfect fighter”, Oboe could only nod in acknowledgement as the other motioned towards his clear cybernetic enhancements. As he continued, his acknowledgement of being an Android – an automaton of some kind – helped Oboe relax a bit further. He was curious as to why he hadn’t been able to detect much life from this being…

When the topic came to the full moon that had risen high into Planet Vegeta’s sky the night of their peoples last day on the planet, Oboe would once again nod – his mind flashing to the young one he’d met in the Dreamscape, Iyokan.

“Yes, I’ve been told and through my meditations I did see from one of our people's former guru's memories, through their eyes, the truly despicable events that had occurred. For that, you have my condolences and my understanding…”

It couldn’t have been easy, discussing things such as the loss of your home or the wholesale massacre of one’s people. Still, Duran seemed more than capable of telling the story and when he was complete? Oboe felt a bit heavy. He had already been considering the words from Korla, how his alliance with the Saiyans may be self-serving and centered around one party and not his own peoples. As of late, through everything that had occurred, while he had some difficulty accepting this due to the niceties of the few Saiyans he had become friends with (Ochra, Tarch and Nashua to name a few) there was much to what Duran and Korla had spoken to him about. He was already on the fence.

When the topic of conversation switched to whom he was however, Oboe was slightly taken aback! How long had it been since someone asked him of himself? In honest consideration, not a single person had ever wanted to get to know the Guru better other than Ochra himself. This tuffle, strange as he may appear, was indeed a much kinder person than his visage would have you believe.

“Well! That’s a question if ever I heard one haha!” He chuckled as he stood and walked towards a decanter behind him. There was an iced brown liquid with leaves floating at the bottom – a tea of some kind – that he steadily placed into two glasses before walking back towards the sitting area and offering one to Duran.

“I Suppose there’s not too much to tell that would be interesting. I’ll try my best to entertain you with the story however! You see, where we now sit? This is known as Oros Village – it was once a secretive and quiet place led by my father, Saw. Built by him after the restoration of our homeworld after it had been destroyed by a maniacal off-worlder named “Vi-Po”. It’s why I was able to understand your people’s plight as we too have lost our home – more than once I might add – to others greed and anger.” Oboe paused, allowing this to settle before continuing.

“We were kept, for the most part, from our brothers as my Father’s teachings were considered somewhat heretical for the time. You see, Oros village here is unique in the sense that there’s not one single caste occupying borders. We were, after the fall of the Mazoku Dominion – a group of Namekians whom made their name known across the universe – the only village on Namek to allow for the cross-unity of all three castes: Mazoku, Dragon and Warrior.”

Oboe realized, suddenly, that maybe this seemed a bit off. He laughed an explained;

“You see..on Namek, each Namekian is situated into a Caste or Category that represents their strengths. I myself happen to be proficient in our magic arts, predominantly healing and support magic. I represent the Dragon Caste. Opposite my Caste is the Mazoku – Namekians whom meddle in the Dark Arts, using demonic energies to fuel their rituals. Finally, we have our Warriors, brothers of ours that have a penchant for combat. Each of us find our roles and stick with them, but my father believed that there was strength to be found in a unified Caste; a single group that adhered to the teachings of all three. With no one to test this on…and no one willing to step forward, he was forced to seclude himself here and, well…I was born and taught.”

He smiled. “As time progressed more of our brothers joined us and formed what you now see. Ive done my best since my father’s passing just shy of nearly a year ago, taking the role of Elder and doing what I could to pass his message along. To teach a new generation our ways.”

It had been some time since he explained the village of his origin, his father, and his own beliefs. He found it somewhat relaxing.

“To be honest, the title Guru had only been bestowed upon me over the last 5-6 Months, since the untimely death of our previous leader, I’m…doing the best I can, but somedays im not quite sure its enough. There’s much out there that I cannot protect my people from, but…I am trying..”

It was clear that Oboe was passionate about this topic, the safety of those on Namek. He could empathize with the tuffles in many ways – the loss of their world, the subsequent delegation to lower status by other races. It was something he felt happening to his own people. It was why he had offered the Tuffles land, he’d hoped in doing so that – when their numbers surged – that perhaps Namek would have allies that lived on the same soil as them. Not unlike earth, but more akin to keeping its own safe as opposed to the madness that planet lived by.

“I’m not sure that’s what you were looking for…but I hope it helps let you understand a bit more about me.”

There was sincerity there. He truly did hope that explaining some of their history might go a long way in establishing good relations with the Tuffles. It was truly in Oboe's hope that they'd take his offer, and this Duran seemed to be a reasonable sort. He could appreciate that greatly.