Sabbatical Concludes (Arbiter's Plea)

Kopaka

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The ice speaks to me. It is woven into the ebb and flow of this world's ceaseless tides. Every beast which twists in the depths, or crawls in the muck rings like a distant echo upon the iceflows of this World.

Somewhere in the polar regions of Opealon, a huddled mass of icebergs sat motionless atop the fathomless deeps. They were largely bereft of life, save for the odd pengling or dire walrus that came to rest upon its crackling bulk. All at once, a particularly large pillar of ice rumbled. A spidery crack raced up its shining façade, before the spire crumbled into shimmering dust.

Now I hear a new sound amidst the calls of the deep currents. A voice I do not have a named for...but the World tells me this is an Arbiter. It calls me to defend it from the encroaching doom of the Unmaking. This, too, I have felt. It is familiar in a way I wish to ignore...another path by which my abandoned past seeks to seize me.

In the rubble of the spire stood a humanoid figure, pristine and coated in a frosty layer of rime. Servos hummed and clicked as internal systems came online. A flicker of blue light ignited telescopic optics embedded in a domed, skeletal mask.

The human and the pirate wolf were distractions. It is clear to me now that my retreat from the Crossroads threatens to graduate to true langour. The Arbiter calls, and I obey. Fresh darkness stands before me. Kopaka shall answer it.

The trek to the edge of the ice field was brisk and silent. It was midsummer within the polar nexus, locking the frigid seascape in perpetual sunshine. The biomech crested a gleaming, white hill at the top of a crumbling spit of sea ice. The Toa's sword was drawn without flourish, and driven into the frozen mass. A few meters away, the ice spit fractured in an explosive shower of snow fragments. Now the hulk floated freely upon the gentle waves.

Kopaka extended his hand towards the horizon. When he had communed with the Arbiter, deep within his torpor, it was apparent that the forces of Darkseid were spread thinly and frantically. Any direction would do. As always, the ice heeded the call of its robotic counterpart, and began to churn through the waves like a mountainous barge. The deep waters of this tidal world were as-yet beyond his reach, but it was for that reason that the Unmaking would target easier prey first. The flying earth-motes of Opealon were, by contrast, infested with simple minded dilettantes who could be easily swayed.

The ice spoke of the Unmaking's ravenous appetite. It warned of Darkseid's cruel malice. The flying city of Paradise must be my goal. They will seek to either suppress or obscure what is happening in their idyllic garden habitat. They must be made to see the true threat they face. I accept the inevitability that I will become their enemy in the course of such duty. Snow falls where it must, and so shall my blade...
 

Kopaka

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Several days passed.

In time, the iceberg fell into the course of a large trawler, heading south from the fertile fishing grounds of Opealon’s northern hemisphere. Kopaka could tell be her pristine, well-designed hull that this particular vessel belonged to the exalted fisheries of the skyfolk. The large jet boosters and folded wing components also indicated this.

“Ice ahead, skipper!” shouted Jackson with a measure of excitement. He was a greenhorn, just learning the ropes of feeding the flying cities. So far on this voyage, he had mostly just peeled potatoes and untangled the fishing nets. The prospect of calling out a warning to the helm brought a flicker of excitement back to the unexpectedly dull life of a mariner.

“The devil there is! That would be against the current!” called back the First Mate.

“Aye sir! But there she lays! Come up here!” Jackson called down to the bridge. First Mate Caprico responded with a heavy scoff.

“Don’t feel like climbing. Fine! How many points?” the officer barked back. Jackson pulled his binoculars over his eyes, and gazed at the white-blue mass of sea ice looming off of their bow.

“Take her...about six points to port! It’s three miles off.” Jackson reported back.

“Hmph. Better make it seven.” Caprico grumbled. He twisted the wheel around and promptly went back to his snoozing. It hadn’t been terribly long, even by a napping helmsman’s wager, that the greenhorn called out again.

“Uhh...Skipper! We’re still on course for the ice...did you…?” Jackson called down. Caprico shot awake this time.

“Of course I pulled the wheel! Blast it…” Caprico said, flying from the wheel. He belted up to the foredeck with his own binoculars. The gleaming iceberg was large against the granite horizon, and seemed to be kicking up a bow wave of all things.

“You sure it was three miles?! Hells!” Caprico roared, sprinting back to the helm. He picked up the trawler’s intercom and shouted a message to the other sailors below decks.

“Ice ahead! Brace for impact! Pulling hard to windward!” Caprico shouted. He grabbed the turning knob on the helm and cranked the ship as hard to starboard as he could. The iceberg changed course to match her.

“Brace! Brace, lads!”

But the rumbling, wrenching, screaming of torn metal never came. Instead, by the time Caprico and Jackson opened their eyes and looked over the deck, the iceberg was politely keeping pace with them, just off of the bow.

“By Davy Jones...what is that?” Jackson wondered. The other shiphands, including the captain, had made their way up to the deck by this point. The removed their caps and scratched their heads at the frozen oddity keeping pace with their ship.

Suddenly, in a flurry of movement, the ice seemed to lunge towards them. A crackling bridge stretched between the pinnacle of the iceberg and the deck, causing the mariners to scatter like a flock of frightened gulls.

A moment passed, and a figure appeared atop the berg. Most of the crew blinked in mild horror and astonishment, but Jackson whistled aloud.

“Well I’ll be...it’s Kopaka! Top ten of last year’s Syntech Abyss, I think!” the greenhorn chuckled. The biomech marched across the ice bridge, and summarily shattered the entire bobbing iceberg into harmless chunks. The reset of the crew remained stunned.

“You speak correctly.” Kopaka buzzed. His gleaming blue eyes scanned the cowering crew, and landed on the human wearing the largest hat.

“I plead for permission to come aboard. Is this ship bound for Paradise?”

First Mate Caprico glanced over at the captain, who gave him a wide-eyed shrug.

“Uh...sure!”

Kopaka nodded, and moved to seat himself on one of the deck benches, where he promptly entered low power mode for the remainder of the voyage.

Quest: An Arbiter's Plea
Characters: Kopaka
Word Count: 1151/1000
 
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