User blog:BobTheDoctor27/Happy Birthday Vorred



Hello there CBW. :D Today I bring you a very special update indeed: today is Vorred's birthday! :D

Quite frequently we see people creating blog posts for their own birthdays. Fortunately, I covered that base in my August Update so, I thought, why not create a post dedicated to Vorred? :P After all, I've planned so much stuff for him that I needed somewhere to put it all. XD

So, without further delay, here are two of my gifts to my partner in crime. :P

Sneak Peak of Night of the Long Knives
Toa Merall inhaled a hearty lungful of cool, mountain air, puffing her chest out as she did so. The barren landscape that she and Dorvan were journeying through was not a particularly forgiving terrain. The incline was steep and the view was dull. They’d left the lush green forest behind and were now trailing up the side of a great hill. Since they’d parted ways with the rest of their team, neither Toa had seen another living thing. At one point the Toa of Air had insisted that he’d spotted an Ussal crab skulking along the forest floor. He’d been very vocal about it, which annoyed Merall considerably. They were guests in this strange land and she wanted to adopt a serious nature when scoping it out for potential threats. Her companion, on the other hand, took every opportunity to pluck up flower petals, whistle broken tunes, and insist on making conversation. She was constantly having to look out for the silly Toa. Had she been paired up with Theran it would have been a different matter entirely. The Toa of Fire was similar to her in many respects: ruthless, hardened, blunt, solid. Next time, she was going to stand next to him when the groups got picked. At least that way she didn’t have to permanently keep one eye on the path ahead and another on her reckless accomplice.

Dorvan was something of a free spirit. A come-and-go type of guy who met problems when they arouse. He didn’t think to prevent them from happening in the first place. It was annoying, particularly as Merall believed that self-discipline was a virtue. They were complete opposites, but the Toa of Stone decided that she should make the best of a bad situation.

Still she was not a pessimist. There was one advantage to this situation:

''At least she didn’t have to constantly watch over Range to make sure he didn’t disappear on one of his many adventures. ''

“The natural world is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?” sighed the Toa of Air contently.

“I suppose,” replied Merall curtly, eyeing the next leg of their journey. The path circled around the hillside and it was impossible to see what lay ahead. But the footpath seemed to dissipate out into loose shingle. The altitude was too great for average grass to grow, but odd clumps of vegetation populated the slope. Their roots held the granular soil in place.

Heaving a deep sigh, the Toa of Stone embarked on the long trek. This incline was going to be a test of her stamina as well as her sanity. They were wandering through hostile territory yet the Toa of Air frolicked around as if he were in a field of Harakeke.

Merall put one foot in front of the other, battling upwards. Climbing didn’t seem to be an issue to her. Her legs didn’t seem to give from the constant, mechanical short steps. Her lungs didn’t gasp for increasingly-thin air. The altitude didn’t even discourage her.

As she reached a ledge on the cliff face, the Toa found herself standing on a mountain path. It winded around the hill and trailed off far into the distance. Just a few bio higher up was a hole hewn into the rock. That was peculiar. She turned to exchange a glance with her teammate only to find that Dorvan was puffing and gasping for breath.

“A Toa of Air? Out of breath?” she remarked sardonically.

The Pakari Nuva-wearer puffed his chest out and swiftly regained control, emasculated.

Merall ignored him and turned her attention to the skies. The Twin Suns were hanging low in the sky. Many hours had passed since their journey had commenced and darkness would soon be upon them. Perhaps they should inspect the hole in the rock. It was the first sign of any life in the area that she’d laid eyes on all day. It might be the dwelling of some Onu-Matoran. And, if not, it would at least offer shelter for the night.

But as the two Toa approached the threshold of the fissure, it became obvious exactly what the indent was. It was a way-station for hill walkers to hole up in particularly bad weather or at night when the terrain was impossible to see and a single foot out of place on the narrow path could send a Matoran plummeting down the cliff edge to his doom. This way-station was a small cavern set low in the cliff. Dorvan pushed ahead, eager to get a fire started as swiftly as possible before night fell and all heat vanished from the world.

But the Kaukau Nuva-wearer grabbed his arm and pulled the Toa of Air back. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the darkness, a nagging sensation in the back of her head screaming.

“What?” he grunted. Merall’s male companion was irritable after she had teased him about his breathing.

“I smell something strange,” she hissed in a low voice. Dorvan glanced at the cave. Its ominous black interior revealed no clues as to way lay inside. Then he glanced at the state of the footpath. Merall had checked for footprints immediately. She knew that he would find no results. The path was composed of loose pebbles amongst the patches of grass. It was impossible to leave the impression of a foot, let alone give any indication of which direction the previous inhabitant of the way-station had gone off towards.

“You think there’s a corpse in there?” he asked gravely.

“It certainly smells that way,” nodded the Toa of Stone. “Stay close behind me, and be prepared to run if I give the order.” Dorvan nodded obediently, then trailed after her as she crept into the opening and slid inside.

The cave was dark, especially after the brightness of the afternoon. They entered cautiously and slowly, giving their eyes time to adjust to the flickering lightstone in the ceiling. It was a deep cavern, turning off to the left and going back twenty or more bio. Three beds had been lined up in the center of the indent, but one was lying on the floor. It had been smashed to pieces against the floor.

The wall and floor around the shattered bed were dark with blood. It wasn’t fresh to Merall’s keen nostrils, but it couldn’t be more than a few hours old. Having checked the rest of the way-station and taken comfort in the fact that they were alone, the Toa of Stone edged over to the blood and crouched to examine it.

“Well,” muttered Dorvan uneasily. “This is gruesome.”

“There’s no body, but there’s plenty of blood,” remarked Merall.

“Well then, the killer must’ve made off with the corpse,” shrugged her companion. “Must’ve been a smart fellow too. There’s no trail of blood. I’ll bet that he threw it down the cliff we just climbed then went back to cover his tracks.”

Merall said nothing.

“Of course, there’s no trail at all. This was a planned attack. The killer might’ve brought a rake to comb over the trail. He was probably staked out for a few hours. There must’ve been a long-lasting grudge between the two.”

Merall raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?” she asked bluntly.

Dorvan reached up and scratched his chin, wide eyes examining every aspect of the cavern.

“The culprit most likely knew this route well, and the victim must’ve been an old-timer. Nobody uses way-stations anymore. Simple enough.”

The Toa of Stone pulled a sour expression, as if she’d just eaten an overripe Madu fruit.

“It’s never simple, and believe me, I’ve carried my fair share of bodies,” she muttered.

The Kaukau Nuva-wearer gestured towards the puddle of blood.

“It’s fresh and heavy. And there’s easily about four and a half pints. That’s a critical hit.”

“That much?” Dorvan’s expression slackened and his jaw hinged open.

“The victim tumbled out of the bed then bled to death on the floor,” continued the Toa of Stone coldly, eyes roving the scene.” The blood is congealed. It came out thick and heavy. It was a blow to the chest, or possibly the head.” “I wish I’d been standing next to Range when we picked the teams,” grumbled the Toa of Air, not sure whether or not to be impressed or repulsed by his ally’s understanding of this brutal act.

“My best guess is that this was an amateur thief,” continued Merall, returning to her feet. “He happened upon this way-station in the dead of night. The victim was asleep in this bed when the culprit snuck in. He would’ve pulled out a blade and gotten to work pickpocketing. He probably didn’t plan on using it.”

“Well how does that work?” frowned Dorvan.

“The target woke up,” shrugged the female Toa. “He fought back. The assailant was taken by surprise. He had to stab him. He hadn’t planned on ending a life but, in the end, he had  to. An incalculable variable. He messed up then ran for it. I’ll bet you my bottom widget that we find the murder weapon in one of those bushes just outside.”

“Then where’s our missing Matoran?”

Merall looked at her companion quizzically. “Matoran?”

“The poor guy who got stabbed.”

“Four and a half pints?” snorted the Toa of Stone. “In a Matoran’s chest? I think not. Maybe in a Matoran’s  entire body. We’re dealing with a victim larger than your average victim: a Turaga.”

''Silence reigned in the bloody chamber. ''

“What kind of sick Piraka would stab a Turaga in his sleep?” murmured Dorvan after a long moment of vexation and devastation.

“It’s not as uncommon as you’d think,” replied the female Toa shallowly. “Turaga often carry valuable artefacts. Toa Stones, jewels, scrolls. This was most likely a case of mere misfortune and poverty. The real question is what happened to our elderly casualty and how he managed to get out of here without spilling a drop of blood on the floor.”

“You don’t think... he’s still in here, do you?” asked Dorvan shakily.

“Grow some backbone, brother,” sighed Merall. “The blood hasn’t hardened yet. It was spilled early this morning. We should follow the trail.”

The Toa of Air swallowed then nodded numbly and retreated for the exit. Merall gave one last sweep of the interior, then followed him, senses alert to the slightest hint of attack.

Should there be a Tollubo vs Theran Rap Battle? Yes! No! Glonor vs Theran!





Anyway, thus concludes my birthday spectacular for Vorred. :P I hope that I managed to make this day just that little bit more special.