She lifted her weapon up and thrust it back down into the ground to stand at attention.
Another rahkshi, as if by orders, coated the end of it's staff in plasma to light the drawing recently made in the sand. It was a drawing of the Throne of Destral, empty, calling for a leader to fill it's void.
"...What, you think I should join the squabble for the throne? I'd only splinter the Brotherhood further." Thernolenos paused in thought. "... Then again... if what he's saying is correct, Karunax would side with one who bested Valix and took the throne from him. In theory the majority of the makuta would not side against him readily... Then only Anakritis would be splintered, I suppose."
The rahkshi took a humble kneel before Makuta Thernolenos, still lacking the same manners as before, but it was a kneel nonetheless.
Swordsman decides to follow the monstrosity, and tries to reads its mind.
The sheer amount of rage filling it's mind is impressive, if there is no power sustaining it. What's more impressive is that it seems to have retained some degree of cunning, despite that fragment of intellect being directed toward plans of hate and destruction. This seething hatred increases slightly at the inefficiency of it's current method of tunneling, and it's power of Adaptation responds. The steel protrusion seems to liquefy for a moment, and then it is changed. Myriad joints and swivels give the saw-arm incredible flexibility, and well-placed kanoka of Speed make it as fast as it needs to be. The Bagger 288's treads - great big belts of steel wide enough to crush a Muaka - flare to life, grinding the stone floor beneath their weight. The saw-arm whirs back and forth with relentless efficiency, reducing the wall before it to dust... and the wall after that... and the rahi behind that... and so on and so forth.
*Kuhtak goes out to see what the commotion is. Seeing the wreckage, he merely shrugs and returns to his lab.*
{Alcarax gives a calmer reply.} "Classified, I'm afraid. Unless, of course, you were to swear not to divulge the information without permission from myself or my superiors."
{Alcarax gives a calmer reply.} "Classified, I'm afraid. Unless, of course, you were to swear not to divulge the information without permission from myself or my superiors."
Post by thepegleggedninja on Dec 31, 2017 8:52:29 GMT
Karunax storms outside of Destral's palace and into its courtyard, very obviously upset. He takes a moment to look around at the various towers and walls of the massive fortress, and the thought of what they might look like when they are ground to dust crosses his mind. Not by himself--he would sooner take his own life--but rather by the enemies that the Brotherhood will inevitably have to destroy when the plans for conquest are made apparent. If the Makuta are too busy squabbling like conceited fools over who should lead rather than simply proving the matter, then... well... Karunax will be fighting the Brotherhood's enemies all alone.
Karunax storms outside of Destral's palace and into its courtyard, very obviously upset. He takes a moment to look around at the various towers and walls of the massive fortress, and the thought of what they might look like when they are ground to dust crosses his mind. Not by himself--he would sooner take his own life--but rather by the enemies that the Brotherhood will inevitably have to destroy when the plans for conquest are made apparent. If the Makuta are too busy squabbling like conceited fools over who should lead rather than simply proving the matter, then... well... Karunax will be fighting the Brotherhood's enemies all alone.
A dread win blows. A turning point approaches. He is returning. Against all odds, events transpire that will spell doom for all.
The sheer amount of rage filling it's mind is impressive, if there is no power sustaining it. What's more impressive is that it seems to have retained some degree of cunning, despite that fragment of intellect being directed toward plans of hate and destruction. This seething hatred increases slightly at the inefficiency of it's current method of tunneling, and it's power of Adaptation responds. The steel protrusion seems to liquefy for a moment, and then it is changed. Myriad joints and swivels give the saw-arm incredible flexibility, and well-placed kanoka of Speed make it as fast as it needs to be. The Bagger 288's treads - great big belts of steel wide enough to crush a Muaka - flare to life, grinding the stone floor beneath their weight. The saw-arm whirs back and forth with relentless efficiency, reducing the wall before it to dust... and the wall after that... and the rahi behind that... and so on and so forth.
*Kuhtak goes out to see what the commotion is. Seeing the wreckage, he merely shrugs and returns to his lab.*
*Kuhtak also donned the Mask of Stealth at this point (too lazy to look up the actual name).
Karunax storms outside of Destral's palace and into its courtyard, very obviously upset. He takes a moment to look around at the various towers and walls of the massive fortress, and the thought of what they might look like when they are ground to dust crosses his mind. Not by himself--he would sooner take his own life--but rather by the enemies that the Brotherhood will inevitably have to destroy when the plans for conquest are made apparent. If the Makuta are too busy squabbling like conceited fools over who should lead rather than simply proving the matter, then... well... Karunax will be fighting the Brotherhood's enemies all alone.
A dread win blows. A turning point approaches. He is returning. Against all odds, events transpire that will spell doom for all.