It takes a village... [OPEN]

Defeat an enemy? Easy, Meppo would punch them with all his might and hope for the best. Plan an ambush? The simpler the better, most people do not expect to be attacked by someone underground, beneath their quarters; a tactic Meppo esteemed after being victim of it. Navigate a space pod? Meppo could not simply do it successfully, that was Meppo’s most peeving weakness, he was horrible with machinery, from scouters to cargo ships, something always happened to make him victim of technology, like a rusty bolt, or an uncharged power core. This time, while descending into Namek, the problem was the pod’s weakened heat shield; an excessive usage during most of the travel drained far too much of its energy, leaving nothing but mere minutes’ worth of protection. While entering Namek’s atmosphere, the hull began cracking, and although it remained unnoticed to Meppo, the holes began growing and growing as the thick alloys chipped off the pod, leaving behind a beautiful trail of white dust. When Meppo realized that an alarmingly sizeable part of his pod had vanished, it was too late, the pod’s outer side was on fire, and the air was escaping the inside, Meppo flung his weight to his south, hoping to land on the ocean, and attempted to cover the enormous hole with the unfolded starry green bandana he rarely used, only to have it burn away and the consequent fire charring his fingertips. Meppo screamed as the fire entered the pod’s insides and began scorching his hair, luckily for the Heran, it took nearly three seconds for the pod to land on Namek’s crystalline green ocean, and as it slowly engulfed the now ruined pod, Meppo struggled to swim out of it and reach the surface. He took nearly an hour to reach the shore, and often relied on using the fauna to propel him forward, after almost drowning the same Namekian Giant Frog for the third time, Meppo grasped the mainland with both his hands, and continued floating on the water, he was extremely tired after all, ‘A short nap would not hurt…’, during his slumber, a particularly strong stream pushed him to the western part of the Ajissa Mainland, where a group of good green samaritans decided to investigate what seemed a weird blue sculpture covered by yellow moss. Meppo, mistook by a statue, was dragged by the Namekian children to their village, it was the first time anyone in the village saw such a strange being: short, muscular, hairy and possibly dangerous; the wise and cautious Elder decided that if the strange being was about to awake, he’d better be prepared to make him feel welcomed, so the Elder started the preparations for the awakening, from gathering the greatest water, to summoning the nearest Dragon Clan members. Meppo woke up surrounded by infants playing their annoying instruments, jars of transparent green water, and a group of fighters worriedly staring at him, judging that by his complexion, he was a veteran of many wars, ‘What do you morons think you are doing?’, Meppo said while glaring at the children, the cacophony stopped as he snatched one flute, only to be tackled by half a dozen of the trained fighters, ‘I will gut you all!’, Meppo said, too tired to fight seriously and preferring to swing the broken flute innocuously.