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Post by Gandigan on Aug 3, 2023 17:11:19 GMT -5
Gandigan sat alone, as he had been for the past four hours. The Namekian was meditating deep within the Whistling Caves, attempting to find what he had lost. When he traveled to Konats for the first time he had willingly had his memory wiped. The second time he returned to the scene of the crime and killed the Kashvar who had taken them from him, and in process some of his memories returned. But not everything had come back to him.
Gandigan had been spending hours every day in between his bouts of training on this meditation, trying desperately to unlock the memories he knew to be in his mind. It had become obvious to him during these sessions that the Kashvar had been lazy in their work; rather than actually removing the memories from his brain entirely they had simply locked them away. He might have been upset to learn that a few months ago, but now he felt nothing but relief.
When he had been under the control of Amon he had been able to see through his eyes in a way. See, but not change. Not influence. He was stuck in the mud while his body was used to do terrible things. Those memories had been locked away in another sense, and in time they had come back to him. He was forced to see them all again. But this mechanism was completely different; it was going to take so much more to get these ones back.
Erased memories would have been impossible to get back, but locked away? There was still a chance he could get to them. So far his efforts hadn't been rewarded with much; blurred visions that were incomprehensible most of the time. Every now and again he would get a flash he could make out, but they'd vanish just as quickly as they had arrived. Some days he felt as through he was simply running into a wall, leaving him questioning what the point of all this was.
Was his past something he even wanted to remember? Did it really matter who he was, or what he had been before the Mazoku captured him? Maybe not... but he wouldn't know for sure until he found out what was there, and it had become painfully obvious that he had no chance of doing so by himself. He needed help, but from where? He could go to Nero again, but he had already asked the Guru for so much; he didn't want to push things any more than he had to.
Nero wasn't the only one on Namek who had knowledge of magicks; perhaps he could ask around? Dend made sense as the place to go, seeing as it was the most populated Namekian settlement. But if he was going to Dend then he may as well just go to Nero. No, he'd find another path. The Mazoku held some knowledge lost to the castes who turn their heads away from them. He could go there, and perhaps use this as an opportunity to bond with his people.
From the Whistling Caves, it was about a two hour flight until he reached the border of the Northern Scar. From there he had two options: head to the Outer Plait, where he'd have a better chance of finding a Mazoku tribe, or go to the First Scar and look for some of the reclusive cave Namekians who still lived out there. The latter had the obvious problem of it being much harder to find anyone, though if any of the Mazoku held ancient knowledge lost to others it'd be them.
He decided to play it safe, and head to the Outer Plait first. If things didn't go well there then he'd could always to the First Scar later. Treses was a contact he had within the Outer Plait, though like with Nero he was afraid of asking too much at once, least he turn a friend into an enemy. For that reason he decided to avoid the Capax clan, as well as the other clans he had made contact with already in the hopes of finding new Namekians to speak with.
There was also the other reason why he wanted to avoid them: his plans had changed. Treses, the Capax, the Ubric and the Tapete were all brought into the fold under the assumption that they were to be moved to a city build around all three castes living together as one, or even to destroy the caste system all together. Since then Gandigan had learned a lot about his people. Thanks to Marimba, he had come to have a much better understanding of the Mazoku as a whole.
Based on what Marimba told him, his plan was doomed to fail. The vast majority of the Mazoku would see them as nothing more than foreign invaders, come to destroy their way of life. Should he continue forth in that same direction then there would be constant wars, leading to the deaths of thousands of Mazoku Namekians. It would basically mean the end of his people, and why was he doing this if not the betterment of his people?
Marimba had turned him onto a new path; a better path. He was going to stake a claim to the Mazoku crown. The throne was currently left vacant; a king hadn't reigned in his life time. This wasn't like an Earthling monarchy that went from son to son. This crown had to be earned, through strength. The strength to unite a fractured people with many different beliefs, histories and even some different tongues. It would be the most difficult thing he had ever done.
This would be how he uplifted the Mazoku people: not by conquest or colonization, but by a united ascension. He still planned to build a city around the old castle which would serve as a capital for their people, but it would be under different ideals now. Hopefully this plan would have the support of larger tribes this time around, which he might be able to gage with this mission today. Up ahead through the trees Gandigan could spot what he had been looking for.
Thick walls encircled a clearing, and from within Gandigan could sense probably two hundred life forces coming from within. He couldn't see anything in the way of insignia, but there were two guards standing near an entrance who could probably tell him more. Gandigan keep his power high; they may fear him, but that was better than being perceived as weak. He wanted all Mazoku to know how strong he was, so that they would have a reason to follow him.
"Greetings, brothers. I am Gandigan. May I know your names, and the name of this tribe?" Gandigan addressed the more powerful of the two, as he was likely expected to. The two looked at each other before giving any sort of response. "I am Tibi, and you are within the boundaries of the Muru clan. State your business here, warrior." Gandigan stepped forward, not allowing the Namekian's gaze to escape his own.
"I have come in search of aid. I have come under a spell which has taken away some of my memories. The memories remain, but are locked away within my mind. If you have any Shamans or Sages within your walls I would greatly appreciate the chance to speak with them." Tibi, a warrior who's power was probably around a thousand or so, gave a look above to one of the scouts on the wall before turning back to Gandigan.
"Do we have a choice? With your power you could likely tear down our walls with your hands. You have our permission, but be warned: we will not hesitate to fight you if you start any trouble. Even with your power, we are not afraid to protect what is ours. You will want to head north, then east. There is a home there which stands out from the rest. The walls are pitch black, and inside is a great power. There you will find the Shaman that you seek, but if he can help you I cannot say."
Gandigan gave a small bow before stepping past Tibi, entering into the walls of Muru. Inside was a settlement not unlike what the Capax had built, though this one was slightly larger. Much smaller compared to something like Dend, but most Mazoku settlements had no hope of growing that big. Too much raiding and pillaging from competition tribes. Eventually if one got big enough the surrounding settlements would band together attack, enslave and steal whatever they could pull from the ground, leaving nothing but dust and memories. In a way it showed the unity that was possible, as brutal as it was.
Strong walls and powerful warriors to walk them went a long way, but Gandigan got the sense this village was soon to be joining that fate. That was unless he acted. One month was what he felt he needed; that should give him enough time to grow beyond any possible rival. One month and the fate that had befallen so many of his Mazoku brothers would come to an end. It was time for the Mazoku to uplift each other, not bury each other.
Gandigan passed through a merchant area, noting the indigenous crafting's which again reminded him of the Capax. As impressive as they were, he could tell that the range wasn't the same as what Treses had to offer, despite the larger population here. The reason why seemed obvious: there were no Dragons or Warriors within these walls. In fact he would go so far as to say that the Muru people likely came from a very small number of progenitors, given the lack of any variation he saw from them.
Gandigan pushed on past the peddlers, up North to the largest building within the walls that he could see. He could sense a power of five thousand or maybe a little more residing within; probably the leader of this settlement, as he couldn't sense anyone else close to that power. No doubt they would have sensed Gandigan by now. What would he be thinking? Was this a friend or foe come to greet them?
Gandigan ignored the building for now; this was a personal mission, not a political one. He'd come back in the future and try to recruit this tribe to his cause, to fill the walls of his great capital, but for now that could wait. He turned to the left and continued east, walking into a dense residential area. He didn't stop until coming across what was obviously the house mentioned by Tibi; while the others were made of a grey material found in many Namekian settlements, this one had been painted black.
The walls felt cold and hollow to the touch, but from the entrance he could feel an intense heat coming from within. Gandigan stepped inside and immediately felt nauseous; the smells reminded him of the village he had ransacked and slaughtered with Usumidori. He momentarily stuck his head out back outside to catch some fresh air. "Oh..." Turning back inside, Gandigan saw what must have been the eldest Namekian he had ever laid eyes on.
He had only a hint of white hair atop his head, and wrinkles with wrinkles with wrinkles plastered across his face. Gandigan tried to speak, but found his words cut off. "I know why you're here, child. It's why they all come to me. Come and sit, and let's see if I can't find what you've lost." Gandigan felt hesitant, but a small part of him could ignore the feeling of... comfort. Some force drew Gandigan to sit in the chair already prepared, giving himself to this stranger.
Gandigan had been spending hours every day in between his bouts of training on this meditation, trying desperately to unlock the memories he knew to be in his mind. It had become obvious to him during these sessions that the Kashvar had been lazy in their work; rather than actually removing the memories from his brain entirely they had simply locked them away. He might have been upset to learn that a few months ago, but now he felt nothing but relief.
When he had been under the control of Amon he had been able to see through his eyes in a way. See, but not change. Not influence. He was stuck in the mud while his body was used to do terrible things. Those memories had been locked away in another sense, and in time they had come back to him. He was forced to see them all again. But this mechanism was completely different; it was going to take so much more to get these ones back.
Erased memories would have been impossible to get back, but locked away? There was still a chance he could get to them. So far his efforts hadn't been rewarded with much; blurred visions that were incomprehensible most of the time. Every now and again he would get a flash he could make out, but they'd vanish just as quickly as they had arrived. Some days he felt as through he was simply running into a wall, leaving him questioning what the point of all this was.
Was his past something he even wanted to remember? Did it really matter who he was, or what he had been before the Mazoku captured him? Maybe not... but he wouldn't know for sure until he found out what was there, and it had become painfully obvious that he had no chance of doing so by himself. He needed help, but from where? He could go to Nero again, but he had already asked the Guru for so much; he didn't want to push things any more than he had to.
Nero wasn't the only one on Namek who had knowledge of magicks; perhaps he could ask around? Dend made sense as the place to go, seeing as it was the most populated Namekian settlement. But if he was going to Dend then he may as well just go to Nero. No, he'd find another path. The Mazoku held some knowledge lost to the castes who turn their heads away from them. He could go there, and perhaps use this as an opportunity to bond with his people.
From the Whistling Caves, it was about a two hour flight until he reached the border of the Northern Scar. From there he had two options: head to the Outer Plait, where he'd have a better chance of finding a Mazoku tribe, or go to the First Scar and look for some of the reclusive cave Namekians who still lived out there. The latter had the obvious problem of it being much harder to find anyone, though if any of the Mazoku held ancient knowledge lost to others it'd be them.
He decided to play it safe, and head to the Outer Plait first. If things didn't go well there then he'd could always to the First Scar later. Treses was a contact he had within the Outer Plait, though like with Nero he was afraid of asking too much at once, least he turn a friend into an enemy. For that reason he decided to avoid the Capax clan, as well as the other clans he had made contact with already in the hopes of finding new Namekians to speak with.
There was also the other reason why he wanted to avoid them: his plans had changed. Treses, the Capax, the Ubric and the Tapete were all brought into the fold under the assumption that they were to be moved to a city build around all three castes living together as one, or even to destroy the caste system all together. Since then Gandigan had learned a lot about his people. Thanks to Marimba, he had come to have a much better understanding of the Mazoku as a whole.
Based on what Marimba told him, his plan was doomed to fail. The vast majority of the Mazoku would see them as nothing more than foreign invaders, come to destroy their way of life. Should he continue forth in that same direction then there would be constant wars, leading to the deaths of thousands of Mazoku Namekians. It would basically mean the end of his people, and why was he doing this if not the betterment of his people?
Marimba had turned him onto a new path; a better path. He was going to stake a claim to the Mazoku crown. The throne was currently left vacant; a king hadn't reigned in his life time. This wasn't like an Earthling monarchy that went from son to son. This crown had to be earned, through strength. The strength to unite a fractured people with many different beliefs, histories and even some different tongues. It would be the most difficult thing he had ever done.
This would be how he uplifted the Mazoku people: not by conquest or colonization, but by a united ascension. He still planned to build a city around the old castle which would serve as a capital for their people, but it would be under different ideals now. Hopefully this plan would have the support of larger tribes this time around, which he might be able to gage with this mission today. Up ahead through the trees Gandigan could spot what he had been looking for.
Thick walls encircled a clearing, and from within Gandigan could sense probably two hundred life forces coming from within. He couldn't see anything in the way of insignia, but there were two guards standing near an entrance who could probably tell him more. Gandigan keep his power high; they may fear him, but that was better than being perceived as weak. He wanted all Mazoku to know how strong he was, so that they would have a reason to follow him.
"Greetings, brothers. I am Gandigan. May I know your names, and the name of this tribe?" Gandigan addressed the more powerful of the two, as he was likely expected to. The two looked at each other before giving any sort of response. "I am Tibi, and you are within the boundaries of the Muru clan. State your business here, warrior." Gandigan stepped forward, not allowing the Namekian's gaze to escape his own.
"I have come in search of aid. I have come under a spell which has taken away some of my memories. The memories remain, but are locked away within my mind. If you have any Shamans or Sages within your walls I would greatly appreciate the chance to speak with them." Tibi, a warrior who's power was probably around a thousand or so, gave a look above to one of the scouts on the wall before turning back to Gandigan.
"Do we have a choice? With your power you could likely tear down our walls with your hands. You have our permission, but be warned: we will not hesitate to fight you if you start any trouble. Even with your power, we are not afraid to protect what is ours. You will want to head north, then east. There is a home there which stands out from the rest. The walls are pitch black, and inside is a great power. There you will find the Shaman that you seek, but if he can help you I cannot say."
Gandigan gave a small bow before stepping past Tibi, entering into the walls of Muru. Inside was a settlement not unlike what the Capax had built, though this one was slightly larger. Much smaller compared to something like Dend, but most Mazoku settlements had no hope of growing that big. Too much raiding and pillaging from competition tribes. Eventually if one got big enough the surrounding settlements would band together attack, enslave and steal whatever they could pull from the ground, leaving nothing but dust and memories. In a way it showed the unity that was possible, as brutal as it was.
Strong walls and powerful warriors to walk them went a long way, but Gandigan got the sense this village was soon to be joining that fate. That was unless he acted. One month was what he felt he needed; that should give him enough time to grow beyond any possible rival. One month and the fate that had befallen so many of his Mazoku brothers would come to an end. It was time for the Mazoku to uplift each other, not bury each other.
Gandigan passed through a merchant area, noting the indigenous crafting's which again reminded him of the Capax. As impressive as they were, he could tell that the range wasn't the same as what Treses had to offer, despite the larger population here. The reason why seemed obvious: there were no Dragons or Warriors within these walls. In fact he would go so far as to say that the Muru people likely came from a very small number of progenitors, given the lack of any variation he saw from them.
Gandigan pushed on past the peddlers, up North to the largest building within the walls that he could see. He could sense a power of five thousand or maybe a little more residing within; probably the leader of this settlement, as he couldn't sense anyone else close to that power. No doubt they would have sensed Gandigan by now. What would he be thinking? Was this a friend or foe come to greet them?
Gandigan ignored the building for now; this was a personal mission, not a political one. He'd come back in the future and try to recruit this tribe to his cause, to fill the walls of his great capital, but for now that could wait. He turned to the left and continued east, walking into a dense residential area. He didn't stop until coming across what was obviously the house mentioned by Tibi; while the others were made of a grey material found in many Namekian settlements, this one had been painted black.
The walls felt cold and hollow to the touch, but from the entrance he could feel an intense heat coming from within. Gandigan stepped inside and immediately felt nauseous; the smells reminded him of the village he had ransacked and slaughtered with Usumidori. He momentarily stuck his head out back outside to catch some fresh air. "Oh..." Turning back inside, Gandigan saw what must have been the eldest Namekian he had ever laid eyes on.
He had only a hint of white hair atop his head, and wrinkles with wrinkles with wrinkles plastered across his face. Gandigan tried to speak, but found his words cut off. "I know why you're here, child. It's why they all come to me. Come and sit, and let's see if I can't find what you've lost." Gandigan felt hesitant, but a small part of him could ignore the feeling of... comfort. Some force drew Gandigan to sit in the chair already prepared, giving himself to this stranger.
