Following Through (Open)

Power Level: 3,000
Transformed: 15,000

---

Mollau's ears perked at the sound of distant rumbling. His antenna twitched and he turned to look over his shoulder warily. Danger abounded all over the Northern Scar, natural or otherwise. He was lucky to travel through this area relatively unbothered. Mollau didn't have complete immunity from the various dangers here. But many of the Mazoku Clan recognized him and his neutrality. His being of the Dragon Clan was often forgiven because he would provide his healing services to many of the Mazoku, where as others of his kind would not. He also didn't shun or abhor the mutant variations of his people, meaning he was one of the few healers who could treat their sometimes foreign anatomy. 

There was a blast of light, blindingly brilliant, and Mollau stumbled back in surprise, arm thrown up to shield his eyes from the light, and wind pressure. It wasn't enough though, the strength from whatever this was, was so strong that Mollau was sent tumbling to the ground.

"U-unbelievable..." Mollau grunted between gritted teeth. The power was incredible. He was like an ant before it. He had to summon the strength of a Super Namek just to push himself to his feet and trudge towards the site of impact.

As he moved forward, all the while there were two pieces of himself at war. One side calling him a fool and demanding he go the other way. You know, AWAY FROM THE DEVESTATING POWER THAT HAD JUST KNOCKED HIM TO THE GROUND?? The other, stronger, side of him pushed him forward because a power clash as strong as that almost guaranteed that some one, possibly multiple someones, would be hurt. He couldn't turn his back to that. His own sense of duty to all life wouldn't stand for it.

Mollau crested over a short hill and beheld a smattering of Mazoku Clan Namekians. The group seemed to be observing a battle between a large mutant Namekian and an alien. These two were the source of the awesome power that swirled around the area. Mollau shook his head in disbelief. The alien with ears as long as a Namekian's was wielding a stump of a blade that pulsed with power. They launched themselves forward like a titanic god of force, heading straight at the large mutant Namekian. If the large mutant hadn't been pulsing with insane power himself, Mollau would have been worried for his life.

As the battle raged on, Mollau managed to pull up to the other Namekians. They hadn't noticed him at first, so when he spoke up, they jumped slightly and summoned attacks of their own. Mollau raised his hands up disarmingly, a few recognized him and lowered their attacks, the others grudgingly following suit. Most of them turned their attention back to the battle at hand, seeming to obey an unheard command.

"What are you doing here, Healer?" burbled a short mutant Namekian with large bulbous eyes.

"I was summoned to help some clansmen on the edge of the Scar when I felt... whatever this is," Mollau explained with a gesture at the clash of titans, "What is going on??"

The Namekian chortled and turned to the fight, pointing proudly at the large Mutant Namekian, "Marimba is demonstrating his superior fighting skills against the outsider Crotona! They are going to help us grow stronger!"

A different clansmen snorted derisively. He obviously did not share the admiration that the small mutant had for Marimba, but he said nothing.

Mollau turned grimly to the battle. The clash was so powerful he doubted both would be getting away from this exchange unscathed... He better stick around and tend to the aftermath... if the rest of the Mazoku allowed him to.

---

Word Count: 619

Crotona sword clashed with the punch of Marimba and both were sent flying back. Crotona landed on her feet without much trouble though before looking up at the Mazoku. “You really gotten stronger. Your training has done wonders.” Crotona admitted and got ready to clash another blow with Marimba but a new power had arrived in the area. Crotona would leap back to the center as Marimba did as well. Both seemed to have taken notice to the new power.

Marimba seemed pretty mad about the situation that a dragon caste member was here at their training. Time to cool him down. “I would not say it is a bad thing. He must have a reason to be here. And look at the Mazoku not attacking him. I say that is progress of them controlling any bad feeling they may have.” Crotona gave a thumbs up to Marimba. “To answer you no I didn’t invite anyone. I’ve thought of it but I also know that would be for later if ever done. I understand first the Mazoku need to feel safe then try to work out their problems with the clans. If everyone get stronger and the two clans just push the Mazoku around then, my training not done much. Plus, if I ever wanted to do that I’d run it by you. We made a deal. The deal was I’d train the Mazoku, you guys would not go rampaging and attacking Warrior or Dragon Caste unless they attacked you guys. This guy just hear for a chat. So lets go hear him out then we can continue the training once he is on his way.” Unless there help was needed and in which case training may be delayed just a bit.

Crotona would begin to walk over to Mollau. It was strange to a dragon caste out here. She knew the Mazoku here had a reputation for being violent. She was glad they all stayed there hands and had not attacked. But she also had to wonder why this man had decided to come out here. “Can I help? What is the situation?” She would look towards one of the Mazoku who spoke up. “This man was sent to help some of his clansmen at the edge of the scar.” Crotona gave a nod looking at Mollau. “Right well I’m more then happy to help. But can you explain why your clansman are doing out here. This is the Mazoku land. I know sometimes they can be a bit aggressive especially if the intentions of those arriving in their land are not good hearted.” She glanced at Marimba hopefully he’d keep his cool and not stir trouble.


Wc:454
-
Damage Meter:3/250
Kp:6/6
Mp:4/6

Power Level: 3,000

---

It seemed the situation had deescalated a skerrick, but it seemed Mollau was still in danger from Marimba's wrath. He was relieved that the large Namekian had a least stayed his hand. It seemed that Crotona's word counted for quite a bit to the Mazoku. Or at least to Marimba. He had hoped that Kazoo would have defended him, but he couldn't blame the small Namekian for not doing so.

He took a deep breath and sighed in relief when it seemed that he would be able to at least defend himself and not be instantly executed. Mollau counted that as a win. Now he just needed to lead the troop down to the First Scar, and hopefully with out complications.

Mollau gave a short bow, "Very well everyone. We'll be going to the First Scar, towards the edge of the land. There had been a clash between Trebull, my friend, and a member of the Warrior Clan. I believe it was a duel of honor of some sort? I am uncertain. Trebull came forth as the victor, but not unscathed."

Mollau floated up, rising smoothly and slowly so as not to startle any of the jumpy Mazoku. He made all his actions plain and honest so as not to give anyone the idea that he was tricking them with some sort of surprise attack. Sometimes working with distrustful clans was like taming a wild Echosaur. Smooth movements, patience, and time. Treats helped as well, but that would come later. He felt that if he had offered anyone here a Bonbori Cake, they'd accuse him of poisoning them...

The elder Namekian turned from the bulk of the group and flew off towards the Fist Scar at a simple pace. The flight equivalent of a jog. He didn't look back to see who or how many of the Mazoku were following him. He wanted to project some sort of confidence.

It wouldn't take long to reach the scar, only a few minutes as the bird flies. But it was still an awkward and tense flight. There was no conversation and only the sound of the wind pressure as they traversed through the skies.

Mollau kept his gaze ahead at the horizon, where the torn earth of Elder Namek met the blackened sky. No matter how many times he visited the Scar he could never get used to the dark sky with out the light of Namek's three suns. He loved the life giving rays and the warmth they bestowed. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be forced out of the sunlight like a majority of the Mazoku have been. It was one of the reasons he didn't blame the clan for their distrust of him. They had been persecuted and exiled. Segregated when Namek was supposed to be the home to all it's people. No wonder those such as Marimba were so quick to hate other clansmen and all they represent.

But Mollau refused to contribute to this ancient feud. He saw no reason for the Mazoku to be treated so. He advocated for them when he could with his own tribesmen but... one man could not turn back the tide of decades. That did not stop Mollau from trying.

He landed quickly at the edge of a chasm with caves dug into the walls. It was a smaller outpost, not truly a village, but several Mazoku lived here to keep a patrol out and to defend the Scar's borders from the other clans. Particularly the Warrior Clan. They clashed often at the First Scar and Mollau made regular trips to this area as a result patching up the fighters from such battles. No matter who won or lost, who instigated it, Mollau would treat them.

From one of the caves in the chasm, a dark skinned Namekian, their skin on the cooler side, almost blue, stepped out from a cave and flew up to the surface to meet Mollau and the band that had followed him.

"Mollau... we weren't expecting such company," the dark Namekian said then bowed towards the rest, "Welcome Brothers."

"It wasn't a... planned event, Glus," Mollau said, "How is Trebull?"

"Weak, but stable," Glus turned and jumped back into the chasm, and drifted down to a cave deep towards the bottom.

Mollau took a moment to look back at the others, and gave them a gentle smile, then he followed after Glus into the chasm.

---

Word Count: 742
Total Word Count: 1,897