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Post by Deleted on Feb 22, 2017 22:54:16 GMT
| Namorel Powerlevel: 79,737
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Birthright
Namorel wandered the Maima Region searching for the power that had trained him before while he was on Namek. Riku was it? The saiyan had called himself the Warrior Clan Leader at the time and with every village Namorel had entered he was told that the saiyan had not been by recently. There was but one place left to check to see if he could find the saiyan whom had become his adopted mentor in the time he returned home, yet the visit and training had been short and Namorel sought more out of him. Closing in on the final village he was to check, home of the Eastern Warrior Clan. Approaching one of the elder namekians in the village, this was his last chance to find him.
"Has the Warrior Clan leader been by here lately?"
Namorel hastily asked the older namekian, hope in his tone. The older, wrinkled namekian looked up the young warrior with a sorrowful look. The two stood in silence for a few moments before the elder warrior broke the news to Namorel. He had felt Riku's power fade not too long ago. Putting a hand on Namorel's shoulder he would attempt to console the Warrior Clansmen that stood before him. Much like his father so long ago, Namorel stood at a confliction and was unsure what to do. However a thought did cross his mind, one that he was sure Riku would have wanted him to do, not only to ensure the safety of the namekians, but so that the younger Warriors would have someone to look up to. He had to take the seat.
"Warriors of the Easter, hell; ALL of the Warrior Clans. I Namorel stand to take the seat of your leader, to pick up where Riku left off and ensure the safety and proper training of our youngest warriors. I do ever so hope that none of you see this as an insurrection but rather as the next step in the direction our forefathers would have wanted."
Namorel spoke, floating into the air above the village, unsure who had heard him, but knew that those who had would likely tell the many others. Sure, he feared those that might stand against him, but whom were they to take his birthright, to full fill his promise to his father and to contest the traditions of the Warrior Clan whom had followed this path for generations before hand.
KP: 3/3 [No Techs In use]
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Post by Helix Crust on Feb 23, 2017 1:51:39 GMT
The eastern warrior clan village was strewn with powerful fighting forces, the leader of which was once the powerful saiyan warrior, Riku. Helix, however, was entirely uninformed on those matters. What did concern the prophet was Namorel.
Namorel was a powerful warrior caste member who had disappeared off planet, to pursue matters on earth, but had recently returned to his homeworld; it was a scenario strikingly similar to Helix's own, and the prophet respected the warrior's spirit. He was a man of substantial soul and valor, and could certainly brew a mean kettle of tea.
But was he fit to be the leader of the warrior caste? That… Remained to be seen. Helix's brief but impactful interaction with the former Warrior Grandmaster Moll had set a high bar for namekian fighters in Helix's mind. And of course, the valor of Lusca couldn't be ignored either. Simply put, the prophet was skeptical of any warrior caste hoping to take up the mantle. Should Helix have met this Riku fellow who previously lead the caste, he would've been just as ascertaining in assessing the validity of his claim.
And it was for that reason that the prophet had followed Namorel to the Eastern warrior clan village.
Helix was covered entirely in old rags and brown cloth, and having shriveled up his body through his natural namekian malleability, the elder played the part surprisingly well. The prophet seemed to have transformed entirely, becoming stick thin; wrinkles folded over Helix's entire being, and his thin fingers poked out shrewdly from under the oversized garbs draped over his torso. His eyes had shrunken into his head, leaving a malformed gap in his face and a malnourished look to his skull.
Donning a wooden cane, Helix would suppress and disguise his power into that of a feeble elder and limp out from beside an old namekian hut, just in time for his still nimble ears to pick up on Namorel's words. He was well spoken, for one with little training in the art of oration. A wry smile cracked across the prophet's shriveled face, and he hobbled quietly through the crowd until he was standing in the center of the audience.
Continuing on, Namorel declared that although this claim was sudden, it was no coup, and he would continue to lead the people towards realizing the ideals of the revered warrior clan tradition.
Having finished staking his claim, Namorel simply let his words echo through the air, as if letting their gravity resonate… or daring anyone in the crowd to challenge him? Helix's hand gripped the tip of the cane more tightly for a moment, and the prophet's bulging eyes locked onto Namorel.
Abruptly, Helix stumbled forward, bumbling incoherently in a hushed whisper. Taking a few shuffling steps forward, Helix eventually came to a rest and leaned over on his cane. It wasn't part of the act; Helix shriveled body was actually unable to support itself without clinging to the wooden staff for dear life. Helix's father tuner had utilized a similar shrunken form in the afterlife when they first met, and it felt poetic to Helix to use it in a similar manner.
Eyes bulging, the prophet leaned forwards, keeping the brown hood over his forehead in order to suppress his distinct marking, a scar from his torture at the hands of the Mazoku. Suddenly, Helix looked up at Namorel and coughed weakly. It was time to test this warrior's character.
"Pardon my intrusion," croaked Helix softly in a disguised voice, a crooked but gentle smile washing across his face, "But would you happen to have any spare change? Perhaps a few Assija seeds?"
T2 shop.
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Post by Lord Xylo on Feb 23, 2017 5:58:45 GMT
"Perhaps you should sit back down, Namorel of the Warrior Caste." The voice of Namek's new ruler pierced the air like a violent dagger, allowing fear to spill into the hearts of the Namekians standing below Namorel, a few of which bowed down so as to not upset their terrible leader. Xylo had been out of the public eye for the last week or so, which had brought some comfort to the non-Mazoku denizens. Now that he was back again, the reality of his reach had sunken in for some of the more stubborn warriors. The Mazoku Lord floated in the sky across from Namorel, a sly smirk on his face, and the Sealed Ball hoisted onto his shoulder. He'd caught the declaration from afar, and decided to crash the party. Xylo had no qualms with someone leading each caste, as it helped to keep things in order. What he did have qualms with, however, was someone he had never met before leading an entire caste. This Namorel fellow could be a Mazoku sympathizer, or a man plotting to revolt when the time was right. The only way to find out which was which was to meet in person. With one mighty heave, he tossed the Sealed Ball into the village below. It smashed spectacularly in the village center, knocking one of the younger Warrior Caste Nameks onto his back from the force of the impact. "I'll make this quite simple for you, Namorel: swear fealty to me, or I will strike you down where you stand. Make your choice quickly; I'm very busy."Thin wisps of dark purple ki began to rise from Xylo's body, coiling around him before expanding outward, causing his aura to burn to life around him. His energy rose slowly-- if Namorel didn't decide soon, Xylo would accumulate enough energy to decimate the entire planet, let alone kill the would-be Warrior Caste Leader. The Sealed Ball below pulsated expectantly. It was quite hungry. As his Ki rose, his eyes turned downward. A frail and elderly voice spoke, asking Namorel for some assistance. Xylo scoffed. He'd seen this trick before, performed by someone who was leagues better at it than this impostor. "Stealing ideas from our father now, are we? I didn't think you'd stoop so low, Helix." He turned his attention back to Namorel, eyes narrowed. These next few moments would decide the fate of the Warrior Caste for decades to come.
Xylo has entered the fray! PL: 251,054 | Emperor's Might (x20P) Active! Current PL: 5,021,080! Using [SU2] Ki Charge! 1-Turn Charge this turn, becomes 2-Turn Charge next turn!
Sealed Ball has entered the fray! Sealed Ball's PL: 4,000
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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2017 6:28:35 GMT
| Namorel Powerlevel: 79,737
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Birthright
All seemed well as the namekians below stood by quietly. No qualms seemed to rise form the crowd, apart from an idle older namekian that stood out in his own regard from the crowd, requesting assistance from the Warrior Clansmen that remained in the air, pinned to the spot as the wind traced across his gi, pulling his half cloak with it. Rather peculiar, this was the thought that crossed Namorel's mind; however he could not deny someone this sort of help. Turning to make his way towards him Namorel felt the immense, almost malevolent power draw closer, and closer fast. He pulled back into position as a darker, foreboding Namekian with what looked like a gigantic wrinkled seed in tow made himself present in the air opposite that of Namorel. While he stood shorter than Namorel he felt ten times larger than he was simply by his power, the warrior clan below even dropped to their knees as he arrived. Reactions of the namekians below almost guaranteed him as THE Xylo, current Mazoku Lord and current leader of Namek. He demanded fealty to him, Namorel saw no use in assaulting him; even with those around him he was sure none of them would come to his side at a time like this, and that seed like object below almost seemed alive.
"Greeting, I apologize for my ignorance, but would you happen to be the Lord Xylo I have heard of? Your efforts to defend and protect Namek are commendable while some may see your methods as quite harsh. I only want the same as you, the protection and preservation of our people... more specifically to MY clan. I mean not to contend you or fight your whim and rule of this planet. If it must be that I counsel myself under your rule to do as I promised to my father... then I will accept these terms."
Namorel spoke to Xylo, who's attention had been turned to the elder namekian whom had spoken out earlier. Namorel did catch the name Helix however and it must have been that he followed Namorel to the Easter Warrior Village to watch him. If this were the case perhaps it was a test from all sides, would Namorel pass; the odds seemed highly against him, but would he try? He did his best to keep a bold tone in his speech, offering Xylo an awkward bow, both from utter terror of the power gap and a slight dissonance towards the Mazoku Namekian. While he waited for a reply from the Mazoku Lord he attempted to mentally grasp the connection between Xylo and Helix, the Mazoku has said father, but the two were from vastly different castes; what could it all mean. Meanwhile there was very, very little the Warrior Clansmen could do now, when he was confronted by a power leagues above his own, whom could kill him with ease... He could only hope that he would get to fulfill his promise to his father and to guide those that he was closest to.
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Post by Mammon on Feb 23, 2017 8:05:04 GMT
Birthright Banner And Blade
It was the start of a beautiful day, he was enjoying a cup of mold wine one of the few bottles that outlived the Saiyans. "Ah-h, good to be in the service of a tyrant." he walked the gardens sipping at it enjoying the taste as it washed over his lips and tongue and slid down his throat with a wet appreciative gurgle, it soften the edges of his vision and made his head swim making him far more introspective. It broke his senses like a wave over a sand castle completely quashing what ever thought he had at the time, something was going on the master was on the move and so was a chance to earn brownie points. It was one thing to ignore trouble worlds away, but outside your front door? You had to keep the lawn of your dominion trim lest the seeds of rebellion sprout from within, and he fancied himself a damn good gardener in the jungle of politics, just his implements trimmed people not plants. To let this grow into civil unrest would be monumentally stupid, and to crush a cult figure before he became a martyr to the cause, you either got them on the payroll or you take them out behind the shed before people could ask 'who was that?'.
He was not long after his lord following in the wake hoisting the banner of the Mazoku Dominion, high planting it in the ground with a 'thunk' splitting the soft dirt beneath. He wore armor black as sin with an iron morion atop his head crested with two holes so twin horns could poke through, a face guard slanted down to obscure his feature all but his eyes were visible and them burning pits of fire that sparkled with unspoken violence 'what will I do to you?'. He was the picture of dark knight ready to enforce the peace with the point of the sword. "My lord." he was just stating his presence as he sidled up to the master of Namek, bowing his head as an acknowledgment of lessers to their betters.
He began to size up the would-be Caste leader, he didn't appear to be that different from the others. Of course he had the strength but the charisma that remained to be seen, but he could respect the other individual the 'old man'. He was a man of theater of dramatics, the aged elder who asked for but three things and in return he'd give you magic beans, or make light shine out your ass. He rested his hand atop his cavalry saber in an easy going manner, his finger's just lightly touching it. Old man or not if his master commanded it he'd put them all to the sword OR try to at least.
Post: 1 KP: 3/3 PL: 54,770
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Post by Helix Crust on Feb 24, 2017 18:59:59 GMT
At the beginning of the encounter, everything seemed to be going as planned. But just as the prophet wearily stumbled out into the limelight, his interrogation was hijacked… By his own brother?
Helix… Had quite the bad habit of not paying too much attention to his soul sense until it was too late.
The prophet first noticed the intrusion when what had been a gossiping group of namekians in the center of the village suddenly shouted in shock and spilled out of the way to make room for a massive throbbing orb, which cratered deep into the soil. Helix's eyes narrowed as his soul sense was suddenly inundated with a wave of dark energy…
This strange sphere… Was alive?
Immediately upon his entrance, the prophet ducked out of the way urgently, ducking down back into the crowd without a word. Immediately, Xylo began speaking harshly to Namorel, with a blunt efficiency that couldn't even find the energy to force submission out of the warrior caste. The Mazoku quipped quickly, as if it didn't matter to him either way how the die were cast.
Helix moved for a few more moments in stealth, repositioning himself so that he could better see the interaction between the two opposing namekian fighters. Helix almost blew his cover there and then by sending a telepathic message to his warrior caste companion, advising him to simply appease Xylo quickly so as to avoid unnecessary conflict.
But much to the prophet's surprise… Namorel seemed to be executing the Helix's plan on his own. He simply submitted to Xylo, immediately forgoing any fear or partisan bias. The warrior caste gave an answer that was hopefully acceptable to Xylo, and continued on, seemingly hoping to rip the bandaid of the interaction off as quickly as possible.
Helix couldn't help but grin as he was called out by Xylo. What could he have expected? Xylo knew their fathers tricks even better than he did. "Caught me," Helix croaked once more from his disguise before stepping forward and pulling back his brown hood, revealing his now glowing head marking. Standing up to his full hight, the prophet bulked out his skeletal frame; muscle would pump through his feeble arms, and his dark stained skin would stretch back to it's full luster.
"Xylo, it's been a moment," Helix grinned, shedding his brown garb and cracking his neck with a grin. "Namorel is simply attempting to preserve the warrior caste's roots," the prophet commented with a warm silence. He hadn't forgotten about that strange throbbing orb. He would deal with Xylo later. "We must respect our culture," the prophet said with an air of genuine discourse before turning to the side.
Another soul had ventured into his field of sense, causing the prophet to tense up immediately. Helix's head whipped around, his eyes locking on the foreboding looking creature who slammed into the ground. Xylo's impartiality was ruptured by the intrusion of this demonic villain. The entire creature radiated demonic energy in fact, from the fire of his soul to his foreboding countenance.
The energy… Was strangely similar to that of the throbbing orb. His brother was playing with dark forces that he could not control. Helix turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. He couldn't leave Namorel alone with these dark creatures.
"Brother. Send your creatures away." Helix wasn't certain what that living orb was capable of, but it was a creature of malevolence. The prophet refused to continue this discussion while under the veil of malice. "We have so much to discuss... But I cannot speak freely around these… Aliens of malevolence."
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Post by Lord Xylo on Feb 25, 2017 2:01:21 GMT
Xylo blinked blankly. Had he heard Namorel correctly? Were Xylo a more self-centered leader, he would have killed the would-be Warrior Caste Leader on the spot for such a question. The Mazoku Lord frowned, bringing his hands together to crack his knuckles menacingly as he replied to Namorel's foolish question. "I am Lord Xylo, yes. I doubt anyone else would be making such demands of you, unless they wanted to meet my fist that is."A wicked grin crossed the Lord's face soon after. Namorel agreed to work under Xylo if it meant leading his clan like he'd promised to his late father. "Good. This is going much better than I'd hoped." The Lord's attention turned, briefly, to a new face. Mammon, one of the strongest Demon's in Xylo's army, had arrived. He bowed to Xylo, receiving a nod from the Mazoku Lord in response. Moments later, Helix revealed himself from beneath his camouflage, beginning to speak in defense of Namorel. Xylo chuckled. "Fair enough, I suppose." He turned to Namorel again, his eyes narrowing. "Be grateful that I am not like your clansmen. Were our situations reversed, I'm more than sure this entire crowd would be rooting for you to rip my head off for trying to preserve the Mazoku way."Xylo's arm stretched down to the ground, coiling around the Sealed Ball before pulling the ball back up to the sky, and hoisting it up onto his shoulder again. Helix requested that Xylo send Mammon away, to which Xylo replied sternly. "You wish to speak? Come to my castle; we can discuss whatever you like in the comfort of my home. Once you're done judging this fool's character, of course."With a burst of Ki, Xylo sped off. He didn't need any more proof. Namorel was a coward; if he ever formed the inkling of an idea for a revolt, he would never act on it. Even if he did, he would be squashed under the Mazoku's superior might.
Xylo and the Sealed Ball attempt to exit the thread. Will take PL.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2017 10:37:46 GMT
| Namorel Powerlevel: 79,737
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Birthright
With a rather casual response Xylo had confirmed his identity to the Warrior Clan namekian, whilst the mood seemed to remain as frigid and heavy as it was, the Mazoku Lord rather took his attention off of Namorel and focused it on the elder namekian who had indeed been Helix as he revealed his identity to the remainder of those who were rather uncertain on the absolute identity oh him. A talk between the two of them rather seemed to aside from Namorel and his claim of this seat. Taking this opportunity Namorel would look over the demonic being that had brought with him a sign of the Mazoku, a banner with the caste kanji written amidst it, it was a scar on the land, but Namorel refrained his feelings towards while he was in the presence of Xylo; at least for now.
All he could do was watch until Xylo decided to make his leave, dropping slowly from the sky to be on the level of his clansmen, to see them face to face, not only as one who sought to claim the seat, not as another namekian placed under the weight of Xylo's iron fist, but as a brother; a clansmen of their own, no more, no less. He wanted to empathize with them more than they could imagine, but he did not know for how long they had been dealing with this tyranny from the much stronger Mazoku King and self=proclaimed ruler of Namek as a whole. Closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb he would sigh, waiting until he assumed Xylo was out of ear shot, but keeping in mind the possibility of otherwise.
"Warriors. Children... Brothers, I stand before you; unaware of what life has been for you in these last few weeks, perhaps months... I possibly cannot imagine what thoughts many of you may carry, but I do share one thing with you that is forever written into us all. I carry the hopes and traditions of our fore fathers and with that I wish to lay the foundation for future generations of our clan... no, our race. I wish not to rule you, but to offer you guidance as the leader of our inherited clan."
He could only hope that his words were shared amongst the crowd, amongst his brethren. Standing before them for a moment, before turning to Helix for any words of advice or at the least his take on what had happened. Was he worthy of leading his own if he was only going to cower before a greater power like Xylo and not defend his people... he had the ever growing terror that he wouldn't have been the only one to suffer had he fought back. A melancholy feeling draw amidst him as he could only watch. His words had been spent and now all rested on if they would accept him, or if they would turn him down for not truly illuminating the aspects that were the Warrior Clan.
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Post by Mammon on Feb 25, 2017 11:33:03 GMT
Birthright Final Warning
At the egress of his master the demon didn't leave, he stood there for a moment drawing in the silence around him. Five seconds past, ten and fifteen. "You!" he proclaimed walking towards Namorel, his iron clad boots clicking against the ground as he approached the would be Warrior Caste leader. "The master most kind has been lenient to you this day." the grate of his helmet began to glow as if a great furnace burnt behind that guard of dark steel. "But know this Namorel of the warrior caste, if you are caught conspiring against the Dominion we won't just punish you." he swung his arm out and opened his hand encompassing the village whole in that gesture. "They will pay the price for any foolishness." his voice was lilting and strange from beneath the helmet it drew in a strange echo that tinged it with cold iron, but most of all when the voice actually changed when it became someone else entirely that was most terrible, one moment a cock sure voice of petulant youth, the next an old man with all the inflexions of age, and when that too finally turned into the captivating voice of a women from which all men dream of, it was terrible for when he spoke it seemed as if not one person spoke but many. He turned from him his cape snapping out like many clawing hands as he turned into the wind, he left the banner flapping in the breeze a solemn reminder that they'd be watching. He was cultivating a mystery, a faceless monster that spoke in many voice's that had the ear of one of the most powerful being in the galaxy. Rumour would spread and rumor would become myth and myth would become legend, it was easy for a creature of black magic an actual demon to speak with different voices, but the effect well that remained to be seen. He ascended into the air slowly lifting from the ground the ground until hovering above the village, he spared it one final look before shooting off into the distance and back to Castle Mazoku, he had more wine to enjoy.
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Post by Lord Xylo on Feb 27, 2017 13:43:13 GMT
(48 hours passed since Helix's turn started. Gonna be skipping and since I attempted to escape last turn that means I'm outta here baby)
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Post by Helix Crust on Feb 27, 2017 17:19:03 GMT
Looking down, Helix couldn't help but narrow his eyes and shake his head solemnly. These creatures that Xylo brought… They were wicked and cruel. It was comforting though, that Xylo seemed to find some virtue in preserving the ways of the warrior caste, even bound under the condition of noninterference with the mazoku's own goals.
As Xylo turned to leave, he addressed Helix once more, inviting the prophet to his castle. Chills trickled down the dragon caste's spine. Something about the invitation was deeply foreboding, and yet it was addressed to him in an almost friendly manner. Helix turned to his brother and nodded, "Perhaps we will speak shortly. I have other matters to attend to first," Helix hummed softly, thinking of the young dragon castes who were relying on him back in the makeshift village.
And so, the prophet watched with narrow eyes as Xylo picked up his massive sphere companion. It seemed more object-like than sentient. It was as if… As if the orb creature was some sort of cyst or tumor.
When his brother's lesser companion spat out his empty threats, the dragon caste wasn't sure wether to pity the fool for his illusion of grandeur or fear Xylo for his creation of monsters like these.
By the time the demonic entity was halfway through his monologue, the prophet had extended his mental presence out over the crowd and Namorel. Far more important than encountering this immediate threat was providing hope for the people of namek.
<Do not fear the Mazoku or their creatures. The Porungian Sentinel has not abandoned you, and only with the power of your hope can we bridge the gap between our peoples, and expel these dark entities from our planet.> Unless the civilians had chosen to block it out, Helix's warm psychic force would have completely drowned out the words of the dark creature with an underlying feeling of safety.
As the armored demon ascended into the air and then rocketed off in pursuit of his apathetic master, Helix looked over at the viscously waving mazoku banner with pity. The sealed ball had left a scar on the landscape, and the foreboding flag was a jarring symbol disrupting the peace of the village.
Xylo could have his banner, and for now, his creatures could have their fun swallowing his scraps. But he would not destroy the culture of namek. Stepping forwards, the prophet looked upon the banner and allowed a white glow to encompass his palm. Sculpting his materialization energy, the prophet mold the glow into the silhouette of a watering can. Clasping it firmly, the object would materialize, a rusted and bent but distinctly namekian tool.
Tilting the can gently forwards, Helix would watch glowing water trickle down to the base of the banner's pole. And within an instant, sturdy brown vines would sprout, twining around the flag, encompassing it in firm namekian wood. What had once been a symbol of fear was sprouting into a beautiful namekian tree.
When the growth was finished, the mazoku mark still remained burnt into the surface of the wood. But it was a faint reminder of Xylo's occupation; it seemed like it could come and go with the wind as easily as the leaves on the branches. Helix could only hope the same was true for his brother's new authoritarianism.
And that was the moment where Namorel, still full of hope began to speak to the people gathered around. Helix's heart opened to the young warrior caste's words. He wasn't particularly eloquent, but he spoke with a passionate and firm soul. As he continued, Helix began to heal the land that had been damaged by the impact of the sealed ball, glossing over the scar of Xylo's presence entirely before turning back to Namorel, who had concluded his speech.
"You've done well, my son," Helix smiled weakly, his eyes quivering with what could be fear or pride, "Our planet… Has gone through much in our absence. And in these moments, the stakes for our people have never been higher." Helix sighed and looked as if he was going to speak further, but decided against it.
"I will be returning to the west dragon caste," Helix trembled, losing his composure for a moment in the wake of Xylo's aggression, but steadying himself almost immediately. "And a few days hence… To Xylo's castle." The prophet smiled at Namorel. "We will speak again shortly. I have much to contemplate in solitary."
As Helix walked two steps forwards in preparation to teleport, he turned to face the crowd of warriors. "Lead your clan well, Namorel. Love will always quell fear." And with that solemn statement, the messiah found himself wearing a grin. For a brief evanescent moment, the image lingering in the minds of the people… would be that of a humble man filled with hope.
Exit! Zeni T2 shop please!
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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 1:18:35 GMT
| Namorel Powerlevel: 79,737
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Birthright
Namorel could only continue in his tone of solemness, Helix too seemed to carry a similar feeling over himself at Xylo and the... interesting companions he had in tow with him. Fear had more than settled over not only them, but the crowd amidst them. Many looked to the Warrior and Dragon Clan namekians that were Helix and Namorel as they spoke; it seemed as if all of their hopes, their futures lay in the hands of these two namekians and whatever followers they could accrue. With these eyes peering upon him, his hesitation grew from within, but he had to keep as calm a demeanor as he cold to avoid causing concern to the other clansmen.
Helix's tele[athic message earlier has helped with calming the younger Warrior Clansmen earlier, allowing for Namorel and Helix to talk for the time being. As the two spoke, Helix while seemingly concerned also felt content with Namorel's securing the seat. As Namorel had, Helix made it aware that he would need to return to his own clan to meditate on many of the matters that have encompassed this encounter today, alone. His final words before making his way were a final reminder to lead the Warrior Clan well.
"I will protect them with my life. These people need us more than anything right now."
More so speaking to himself than replying to Helix, Namorel made his way towards the larger hut in the middle of the village; glancing back at the wooden monument that had become the Mazoku banner earlier. It was a semi-permanent scar and reminder of who had the binds of this planet and its people in their tow. The Warrior Clan namekian hoped that there was a seat in the larger hut as he needed a long rest after what he had dealt with in what felt like the last few hours.
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Vi-Poi
Administrator
Premier of Earth
PL: 434,410
Soul(x40P), Overdrive(x43)
Zeni: 1,247
Tag: @vipoi
Posts: 2,833
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Post by Vi-Poi on Mar 11, 2017 22:47:56 GMT
@namorel 1739 WC & 3348 PL! 3348 + 95048 = 98,396 PL Helix Crust 2016 wc & 3982 PL! 3185 Z! 3185 + 19753 = 22,938 Z Lord Xylo 727 wc & 1367 PL! 1367 + 255507 = 256,874 PL Mammon 830 WC & 2093 PL! 2093 + 65429 = 67,522 Adding.
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