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Post by Magister Oud on Sept 19, 2019 14:22:20 GMT -6
Magister Oud PL: 30,000 (Base)
Some time had passed since the Magister had found himself walking amongst the cracked plains of the Northern Scar. His eyes shifted and glanced around, glancing at the shattered cliffs that were still blackened from the eruption of the smouldering volcanoes that lay dormant under the plates; the rich blue grass given nutrition and health from the mineral-rich soil brought closer to the surface via eruption and tectonic shifting; the fine grains of dust and loose dirt that was more like sand than earth.
Sightseeing, however, was not the reason of the Mazoku’s surprise visit. Some few days ago, he was apprised of an unexpected situation. Oboe, the Guru of Namek, had informed the Magister that there were some refugees that had come to seek asylum on this world. He did not explain who they were. He did not explain why they claimed sanctuary here. All he divulged in any detail was that they had set up a camp of sorts within the Northern Scar.
It took some time before Oud was able to locate the area in which he sought. Below the cliffs of the highlands plateau, just out of reach of the Outer Plait, was a small forest of ajisa trees. From a distance it looked like only a small area with a lake situated near the middle of it. However, as Oud drifted down closer and closer, he could make out the metallic shine of structures and monuments that glistened under the light of the three suns.
The once beautiful forestry was now the site of a makeshift junkyard. For anyone of morbid humour, it was more like a graveyard.
The Mazoku’s shoes tapped lightly upon the blue grass carpet. He proceeded onwards, hands kept behind his back and locked to one-another, as he made his way into this supposed refugee campsite. Glancing around, all he could see for the most part was heaps of metal and broken-down electrical equipment. Some of them resembled spaceships, all in different states of disrepair. He pondered if any of them were actually functioning at all.
For such advanced technology—possibly more advanced than Namek’s own—the Magister could not help but hypothesize who exactly these people were running from.
Korla
KP: 3/3
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Post by Korla on Sept 24, 2019 17:19:36 GMT -6
| Korla PL: 16,000 |
Korla perked up as she heard a familiar beeping growing closer and closer, sitting up from where she lay near the lake Korla saw Medi scurrying in her direction, the tiny medical bot seemed in a rush and that put Korla on guard “Whats wrong Medi?” “Beep! Beep beep!” “A Namekian?” Korla tapped her scouter as Medi warned her of the arrival of a, in its understanding ‘unfamiliar green lifeform’ and she promprly recieved a powerful energy reading moving into the camp. From their last interaction she assumed it was not Oboe as the Guru seemed more inclined to hide his power, and likewise possessed a seemingly innate ability to read power signatures based off of how he had found her, if this WAS Oboe he likely would have come to her directly rather than making a walk through the camp. Korla moved to her feet and began a quick return to camp, scooping the tiny medical droid up into her arms and then placing him on her shoulder, she arrived just in time to find an unfamiliar Namekian wandering the camp, his expression seemed to show he was not surprised to find it so perhaps he was someone one of the others were familiar with, or a friend of Oboe. “Welcome to our camp, is there something you need?” Korla said stepping forward to make her presence known to the Namekian.
Korla Multipliers: x1 |
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Post by Magister Oud on Sept 26, 2019 8:50:57 GMT -6
Magister Oud PL: 30,000 (Base)
Mounds and piles of scrap junk and burnished metals everywhere. While it was an eyesore for the Magister to behold such obscenity against the beauty of Namek’s greenery, he wasn’t surprised by it. He was aware that the tuffle race were once renowned for their technology—technology that was adopted, if not blatantly stolen, by the saiyans. He had, however, thought the race extinct. Now that the ‘truth’ has proven to be a falsehood, he would have to return to his sanctum and research and study them further.
His wandering gaze soon fixated upon a single individual that approached from the other side of the camp where the lake was. The creature was of a feminine build as far as most humanoid biology went, with her skin as white and pale as the snowy peaks of Earth. Her clothing consisted mostly of black, though her purple coat contrasted against the pitch. What caught his attention the most was her bright blue eyes that were featureless aside from the red markings upon her brow above them.
It was the first time seeing one of these tuffles. He wondered if they were all the same.
”I appreciate the welcome,” responded the Magister as he kept himself upright and hands behind his back, his posture showing almost a state of regality and authority. ”I am the Grand Magister of the Mazoku. I’ve recently been apprised of your coming and thought it best to come see for myself.”
He paused for a moment. Upon the gormless face in which he saw the camp he wore a mask that showed false astonishment of what was around him. ”Though I have little knowledge of alien technology, I can tell that what you are capable of is quite… extraordinary,” he slipped through his silver tongue. ”Truly a work of great talent and ingenuity. It is no surprise that your technology is revered throughout the galaxy.”
The first stepping stone in establishing an alignment between the tuffles and the namekians was then placed. Now, the Magister only need to finish the road. He would take his time doing that, making sure every stone was placed perfectly.
”As for help… No, I came to see if it was you who needed any assistance. I am not so busy now were it now we live in times of peace.”
A subjective and selective word ‘peace’ was. Peace for the namekians, maybe, but surely not the tuffles. Now, perhaps the second stone could be placed…
Korla
KP: 3/3
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Post by Korla on Oct 7, 2019 1:37:45 GMT -6
| Korla PL: 16,000 |
The new arrival was apparently ‘Grand Magister’ a role Korla was not familiar with but she presumed due to the manner in which the Namekian spoke it likely indicated him as a leading force among the Mazoku Namekians, presumably this still placed him below Oboe as the Guru appeared to be in general the leader of the planet as a whole and not simply of the ‘Dragon Caste’ though the recent historical records did indicate Namek having a ‘Lord’ who presided over them of the Mazoku. She was nowhere near versed enough in the culture to know the inns and outs of its power structure. “A pleasure to meet you Magister Oud, I appreciate your compliments on our work. This is simply our efforts to give ourselves a litle something akin to a home for now, and to clean up some of the wreckages we have found dotting your planet. It’s a bit baffleing that some consider entire ships to be something they can treat as simple waste. None of the ships we have recovered seemed to have Namekian records so we presumed it was no harm to use them” The Namekians presumably actually used their own spaceports which was why they mostly found Saiyan and ‘Fleet’ equipment abandoned around the planet. “Oh, well there is nothing quite needed at the moment to be honest. The sort of help we’re in need of is rather a bit more grand than what I could expect to request from you” Killing the Saiyans, rebuilding their home, reviving their people, all monumental tasks that she could hardly just casually ask of him.
Korla Multipliers: x1 Items: None Techniques: None Current KP: 3/3 |
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