Ku-Wahi'Kahu

[Zurajai]

"Raaaaaagh!"

The infuriated roar tore through the curving, irregular corridors of the Stygian Edifice, bouncing from wall to wall in an endless echo that carried across the surrounding area with ease. The ferocious cry was followed by the crash and shattering of wood against stone as the shouter dashed a chair against the solid surface of the supports in anger.

"How can you do this!?" howled Tuah as he held the severed leg of the chair he had just thoroughly destroyed, the rest of it's body now sitting in a heap of wood on the floor beside him, "This is an outrage!"

Tuah raged within the confines of the Grey Master's spire, a twisting, labyrinthine structure of dark coral, inky pearl, and jet black basalt. The smoking figures of three Wairua Grey Masters lined the back of the chamber, watching patiently as Tuah threw himself across the room in his fury. The wights of Mawar remained stationary, their visages hidden behind impenetrable clouds of dark smoke and haze, the same that billowed up around them only to dissipate moments from escaping from their body in wisps of darkness. Beyond their smoking appearance they remained relatively humanoid, consistent with the shape and form of any ordinary Ku'Ano merfolk.

"You protect them! You keep them from justice! You are no masters of mine!"

The triumvirate of Grey Masters looked on with enigmatic gazes as Tuah's wrath turned on them, turning what was previously just the hot tempered merfolk's general attitude into a directed attack on them. By their posture, however, it was clear they were beginning to become fed up with his misplaced ferocity. Their cold stares closed on Tuah before one in the center, Hohepa Tama'Tane o'te'Nawe-Mata, stood and held up a smoking, black hand.

"Calm."

The voice that emanated from the wight was one that could only be described as oppressive, the sensation of crushing weight with rippling tones that threatened to stab through Tuah's ear drums and crack his skull. The words crashed against the raging, pale, scarred merfolk as waves to tear from his fury and focus all his attention on them. The room went silent as Tuah dropped to one knee, muscles at his jawline clenching tight as sharpened, carnivorous teeth clamped shut in forced resignation. Moments passed, time impossible for Tuah to judge, as the figure remained standing and staring through impenetrable hazes where faces should be. At last Hohepa sat, dropping into his throne in a weightless motion as one under water would fall.

"You must temper your rage, Child of Ranga, lest you consume yourself," echoed the wraith to the left, the once female Lanakila Tama'Mele o'te'Ataahua-Nui, "Your life is one of great purpose and if you should falter but once you shall fall."

"What purpose?!" growled Tuah, blinking away the pressure of the depths as his whole body ached, "Why must I suffer!? Why do you hold me back!? Those cultists continue to walk free, praising their false idol and bringing harm to everything they touch! You protect them!"

"Do not mistake patience for negligence, Ku-Pama," chided Kana Tama'Iokepa o'te'Kaleo-Hae; the weight of his words even greater and more straining than the others, "We do not act because it is wise to wait. Your path is one of mana-tangata alone and such focus shall lead to ruin. You must come to terms with the demons that dwell in you to forge a path of balance for yourself. Rise, o'te'Ku-Pama; rise above and be more."

The final words of the wight hit as a tidal wave, throwing Tuah back against the wall. In an instant the wall exploded behind him and Tuah was falling into the abyss, water now surrounding him as it roiled and churned while the weight of the murky brine crushed in from all sides. It seemed he would fall forever, thrown about as driftwood in an endless, chaotic tide where he would simply perish from the mind of all who had once cared for him. Just before he surrendered himself to the depths a devilfish appeared before his eyes, milky eyes staring into his as if chiding him before calling out in a rumbling, commanding voice to him and him alone.

"Wake up."

Tuah woke with a start, sitting up from where he lay gasping for air. His eyes, wide with surprise and fear, scanned his surroundings. His pale, scarred form had woken in his home; the small cottage of basalt and coral he had made for himself from the ruin's of his family's home in his youth. Everything seemed at ease as the sun poured in through the gaps in the slats of his windows, lighting the compact chamber dully. A moment passed where he considered the dream that had passed before he looked down and noticed the pool of brine surrounding him and the glistening wet scales across his form.

[Zurajai]

Tuah Tama'Ranga o'te'Ku-Pama tightened the jerkin of whale leather and shell-scales before clasping the two ends together to properly secure it to his body. At his waist he had belted his black pearl machete while in a sling on his back hung his coral trident. Though well armed and equipped this was certainly not the accouterments of war; these were equipment light and streamlined for travel. His further accouterments, a flask, whale-skin bag and rolled up whale hide revealed the true purpose.

All around the pale scaled merfolk stood similarly equipped individuals, all working to prepare themselves as they tightened equipment into place and made account for all their supplies. This was a party of exploration. Along with the well armed guards were numerous others of less violent purpose; those equipped with tools of measurement, mapping, and study as opposed to the weapons held tightly in the fists of their able bodied guards. The whole expedition appeared to be well funded and well prepared as each individual went about their purpose without confusion or question. The word of the Grey Masters and Mawar had moved hands to purpose and so it was that their hands should move with skill and speed unrivaled by any other.

"Chosen," called one of the explorers as she bowed in the direction of Tuah, "We are ready. All are accounted for and our vessels are ready for travel."

Tuah looked up from his own thoughts to cast his gaze in the direction of the voice. A moment passed as he attempted to remember her name before once more the lengthy list of words poured into his mind. She was Mele Tama'Kalani o'te'Mata-pai, hand picked by the Grey Masters for just such a mission. A famed explorer, or so it was said, and one who had mapped many of the islands already home to the Ku'Ano in this new realm.

"Perfect," came his reply as he returned her bow, stepping towards his as he sheathed his machete, "Give the order; mount ships and prepare to set sail. Mawar is watching us."

---

-- Tuah and a company of explorers to further map and study the home island, centered around the forest north of the Stygian Edifice (expenditure in turn actions).

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Prophecy

"Yes yes... Born on the seventh full moon of the summer days, when the tides of the old world rose in salutation. The moon called forth mana from the deep seas and focused it through the lens of the stars. On the 555th day the divine mana struck you in your mother's womb." The wise woman ululated, humming rhythmically as her hands weaved over the shells and coral which she used as a fortune-telling device.

"mmmm... You are heaven-marked. Moon-marked. The mana flowed through you and created a knot, a locus of power." She poked a finger at Tuah's bare chest, where a dark birthmark lay, hidden and marred by unseemly scars, but there nonetheless. "But it does not flow. You are untrained, you do not control the mana within you." She nodded to herself. "You must find a way to unknot."

"But that is all I know." she declared abruptly, gathering her shells and things into her sealskin pouch. "The stars of old times are lost. I cannot know the nature, the form of your mana without knowing what sign you were born under."

"Now you know what the Grey Ones know about you! Go!" She abruptly shoed Tuah out of her home - fish roasted over a fire, and she had chores to do.

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The Destined One
Tuah Tama'Ranga o'te'Ku-Pama is marked with a destiny and great power, but as of yet his nature and purpose are unclear. What route should be taken to unlock his potential?

Search for a Starmap
If a starmap of the old world could be recovered, the form of the constellations on Tuah's birth-date could be known, and the exact nature and purpose of his power revealed.
-- Tuah begins a quest seeking a star-map of the old world.

Unlock the Mana
Tuah's mana is in a knot inside him. It must be unraveled for his true power to be released. Legend tells of a strange flying people who know the secrets of unlocking the mana inside.
-- Tuah begins a quest to find and study with the bird-people who know how to unlock mana.

Challenge Himself
As Tuah's mana grows and he defeats enemies his potential will become clear. He must seek a true challenge and defeat it.
-- Tuah begins a quest to find a great monster or challenge and defeat it.

[Zurajai]

A snarling face glared up from the water, eyes burning bright and scales deep of crimson umber. Tuah closed his eyes and brought a handful of water up to his face to splash himself awake, rejuvenating his pale scales with the embrace of the wellspring that was the deep. Once more his eyes were open and all he saw was a reflection of himself; a pale, scarred merfolk stared coldly back at him. Tuah grimaced and pushed the image aside with a gentle swipe of his hand through the water, sending his doppleganger away with the ripples of his discontent. The Blood Palm leaned back and straightened his spine to the point of bending backwards as he stretched in thought, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

"Mother, why was it me?"

The conflicted youth rose from his position and gathered his things; whale skin and shell jerkin, shark leather belt with assorted accouterments already tied into place, and his bladed trident of black pearl gifted to him by the Grey Masters upon his capture at their hands. A finger absently traced the tattoo painfully detailing both his matronym and his epithet; in dark black ink to contrast with his milky pale scales were the elaborate symbols artfully showing the horror of his resurrected mother's death at his hands and the resulting carnage that he unleashed upon his torturers. Soon the tattoo disappeared beneath the smooth, dark, shiny coating of his jerkin as he pulled the near form-fitting piece of attire across his torso to clasp it at the right shoulder and hip.

"Today we fix what was broken, Mother," muttered Tuah, his face suddenly pulling back into a sneer as if to hide the well of emotions filling up his gut from the walls of his simple abode as his eyes watered with brine not from the deep, "She said so; the wise woman. And why would she lie?"

It had been decided for him by the strict culture of his birth that it was his duty to himself and to his community to slay some great monstrosity that plagues the deep. Truth be told, Tuah knew nothing else. How could he find these winged men or even speak to them? How they would squawk with laughter at the sight of him, scarred as he was. It was better to simply go into the depths to die with Mawar or rise back up with his problems pushed aside. That was what the wise-woman said, after all. Kill some great beast and it would be fixed; he would be fixed.

And why would she lie?

---

-- Tuah begins a quest to find a great monster or challenge and defeat it beneath the waves.

[Zurajai]

"And you say, o'te'Whati-Hoe, that your wisdom you bring is the solution?"

Omeri Tama'Setu o'te'Whati-Hoe nodded his head slowly, eyes dropping to the floor only to raise up again to meet that of the triumvirate of Grey Masters and their cohorts massed behind them. Omeri stood opposite of them in stripped down Parauri'He'e plate mixed with a robe of whaleskin. The warrior-elite appeared in every sense a Philosopher-Warrior as the roll of wooden strips that made up a common Ku'Ano scroll was presented before him, held out in his hand for the Grey Masters to peruse.

"Yes, my Masters," he retorted calmly and quietly, yet to raise his head, "As I explained these reforms will provide the Ku'Ano the safety and security they deserve."

"But at what cost?"

A voice, like a rolling wave crashing down over Omeri, echoed out from the crowd and the leering gazes of the enigmatic Wairua stared onwards to inspect the warrior's reaction; everything was balanced on his actions in this interaction and if he were to make a misstep his plans would fall before even having a chance to succeed.

"Nothing that our coffers cannot handle," he echoed quickly, ignoring the sensation of unrelenting pressure, "The Chosen of Mawar stand wealthy and prosperous; there has been no better time."

"But what of the costs of culture?" came another voice, "What of tradition?"

"Tradition is the corpse of wisdom, Masters," spoke Omeri as he slowly raised his head to face them, gaze stern and glowering, "If this will save the lives of my kin and will see to it that the enemies of Mawar fall swifter than there is no reason we should not."

The crowd of Grey Masters hushed themselves and the pressure relented as they communicated among themselves whilst the Triumvirate stared on relentlessly. It seemed he had hit a nerve. At long last they turned and a single Wight closed the distance to give their decision to the Triumvirate. At last Kana Tama'Iokepa o'te'Kaleo-Hae rose to speak.

"You carry yourself wisely, Omeri Tama'Setu o'te'Whati-Hoe. You are given permission to go through with these reforms. You are to be given all you need to accomplish this task within the coming years; do Mawar's will, o'te'Whati-Hoe."

---

-- Military reforms under the supervision of the Parauri'He'e warlord Omeri Tama'Setu o'te'Whati-Hoe begin.

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The Lonely Forge

The explorers danced a great dance that night, for they had found a Great Place, filled with mana.

What they had thought was simply a lonely, volcanic island in the far north sea, perhaps suitable for a fishing village or outpost, had instead been a place of great mana and power. They could feel it in the air when they approached, and were not surprised by what they saw.

Built into the side of the mountain was an enormous forge built by unknown hands. Tools of strange metal hung in racks and cases, seemingly untouched by the weather. Dozens of anvils and smelters of the same metal could be found as well. A system of canals channeled lava flowing from crevices in the mountain's side into many forges, great and small, while others channeled water from some spring into tanks for cooling.

And aside from the mundane were many other strange devices whose purpose could only be guessed at. Tools that looked like lathes or ceremonial circles. Around these things the flow of mana was especially strong.

Only a god could have built such a smithy, they all agreed. For in this place, objects beyond their understanding could have been crafted.

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Ku'Wali'Kahu has discovered The Lonely Forge on a lone island in the far northwestern sea. This forge can create magical weapons and items, but requires the proper resources to do so. To forge a magical tool, the following are needed:
- A village or city controlling the Lonely Forge
- The Divine Forgery power, or assistance from a faction with the Divine Forgery power
- Unique resources suitable to the item being crafted (e.g. adamantium for a weapon, or ironwood for a bow). The amount and type of resource necessary varies on the power and type of item.
- An expenditure of Divinity, with more required for more powerful magics.

The final results are determined by a moderator based on the resources spent.

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