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Rar'gul sits forward, peering at the comms over the heads of his companions. He emits an uneasy rumble. I don't like this. On the back of that being we lost in the crowd, too! he shares telepathically. It would be good to put an end to this before we move for our new contract and head off-station. Rar'gul looks confused when Doc starts talking about a repair shop. Perplexed, he nonetheless stands and follows his small friend.
"Though I could drive a transport on Absalom -- cargo deliveries always need to be moved right?" Rar'gul nods in agreement. "I rrememberrr hearring that "The line between disorrderr and orrderr lies in logisticccs"" he rumbles. "Although it was in rreferrence to a militarry forrrce, I imagine it's also trrue forr an expanding cccorrporrration." "I'm might not be much help when it comes to piloting, but I should be able to get things to wherre they need to go."
"Thankk you, Cavence Sy Rrreel," Rar'gul rumbles, accepting a datapad. He continues chatting with the barathu as he swipes through the forms, requested items and information. "I must admit, I'm a little nerrvous. I've been wanting to visit for such a long time." The trox pauses to remove a twist from his stole of rank. "Nchakkk is so cclose but, at times, has seemed so farrr away." Looking up from the datapad, he says, "You must have all sorrts of tales frrom yourrr time herre. Do you have any advice for us? You know, any ccommon mistakkkes appliccants makke that we should avoid, additional items we ccould incclude to smooth out the applicccation prrrocess, that sorrt of thing?"
Resplendent in his vestments, Rar'gul steps forward, hoping to add some weight - both literal and figurative - to their query. "Yes, any help you ccan prrrovide us will be verry apprreciated," he rumbles.
Seeing their quarry take flight, Rar'gul momentarily considers the consequences of his large frame charging head-long through the crowd of beings navigating the marketplace. As their mark disappears around a corner, the trox decides the man's urgency should be reciprocated. Picking up his own pace, Rar'gul employs his talents and training to traverse the crowded area with minimal disruption to the flow of beings, and dislodged packages, left in his wake.
Tight Fit:
While you’re squeezing, you don’t gain the entangled condition and your speed is reduced by 5 feet instead of halved. You still can’t run or charge while squeezing. Uncanny Agility (Ex): You are immune to the flat-footed condition, and your opponent doesn’t gain any bonuses to attack rolls against you from flanking you or attacking you when you’re prone. Furthermore, covering fire and harrying fire don’t provide any advantage against you.
Craning his neck, Rar'gul scans the the crowd ahead for patterns and currents to the flow of beings. "That's it, John. Kkeep going in that dirrection forrr a while. Lookkk out forr..." he directs over comms.
Rar'gul hesitates. Like John, he is torn - he instinctively wants to chase after the man and find out more about the reason for his reaction but also recognises that the sight of a twelve-foot tall, hammer-wielding, uniformed trox charging through throngs of beings in pursuit would do little to dissuade the fellow in his concerns. Not to mention the spotlight such attention would draw to them. Not safe to go alone! Right behind you, he messages to John. Might be more than a little behind you, he adds, navigating the crowds The trox tries to use his height advantage to keep his eyes on the man and help coordinate John's pursuit.
"Thankkks,' the trox grunts. Clearing his throat, self-conscious, he explains in his deep rumble, "I've told you of the crrrypticc visions that set me on my qqquest. And that I have had severral morre since ourrr time aboarrd The Chimerrra. Theirr intensity and frreqqquency have been inccrreasing the closerrr we ccame to Liavarra. I believe it's due to my prroximity to the Drreamerrrs' songs." He cocks his head to one side, as though listening to something distant. "When I reporrrted my visions and... changes... to my superiorrs, they werre ccconcerrned but uncconvinced. They taskkked me with finding something morre definitive." He gestures to his vestments, his mandibles parting in a wry grin. "Besides, a little pomp and pageantrrry might do wonders on our trip to the OCI."
Rar'gul catches up with his companions as they leave the docking spars behind. The trox is dressed in his ceremonial garb - a plain grey tabard emblazoned on the breast with the shirren head of Hylax, crossed from shoulder to waist by a crimson stole of rank - and carries his hammer as a staff, the haft tapping the floor in cadence with his stride. "That tookkk longerrr than expected, " he rumbles. Pausing, he looks around at the new space
Still crouching from when he assisted with the fallen android, Rar'gul turns toward T'sorkel and Doc. He tilts his head slightly as he regards the pair with curiosity and a hint of surprise. "Best we all stickkk togetherr," he replies to Cid, rising to his feet. "If you'rre worrried about someone stealing the ship, we could do something to temporrarrrily disable it. Likke takkking the power coupling with us. I once hearrd someone tell a storrry wherre they did that." Once their preparations are set, he ambles further along the docking spar.
"Stupid, wanna be tough guys," Rar'gul rumbles, equal parts concern and frustration. "Should have listened! "Hopefully learrnt a lesson from this. Damn luckkky we'rre not the sorrts to makke them pay in blood!" he continues, kneeling to join John and Cid by the fallen thug. "Nice worrkkk," he offers to his quick acting companions. Reaching into his pack, he produces a small vial of iridescent liquid. "Let's get this into him."
Watching the disarray unfolding amongst the enemies to his right, Rar'gul pivots and dashes to his left to support his companions. Closing in on the gangsters and their rides, he thrusts his left hand toward the chest of the android accosting John .
Rar'gul follows John's lead toward the station hub, hoping to avoid conflict with the androids. His jaw tightens when the androids draw their weapons. So much for a low profile! He is on the move as the first thug opens fire...
... energy shimmering along his forearm to form a small shield as he takes up a protective stance in front of John.
"You should have taken him up on his offer!" he calls to the androids.
Rar'gul nods several times, looking to John. "Qquite a disccount," he agrees, sharing a meaningful glance with the Abadaran. "Cccaptain?" he asks, turning to T'sorkel. If it turns ugly, I'll grab the leader* - try to end it quickly and without blood, he sends telepathically.
Rar'gul strides slowly forward to stand casually behind John, lending support to his companion's efforts. "My frriend is rright," he rumbles, turning to gesture toward their vessel. "Not only will we need our ship to deparrrt, I'm not exacctly what you'd ccall incconspicccuous," he adds, turning back to face the androids and shrugging, his broad hands open before him.
Rar'gul watches the approach to the station on the viewing screen. "Hmm. The OCI alrready. I suppose that's in line with what we knew cccoming herre," Rar'gul murmurs.
Rar'gul nods in agreement with John. "Imterresting. I'd not rrealised that. The OCI might not be able to do much until we get to Rrroselight," the trox rumbles. "I've hearrd of this Direccctorr Evoscco. We need to find out some morrre about them beforre makking any moves."
Finishing the search of the files, Rar'gul leans back, rubbing at his eyes. The trox looks tired and in need of rest. "Nothing new," he rumbles to T'sorkel. "But it ccconfirrms everything we thought we knew frrom beforrre." He greets Doc as she joins them after her nap. Shaking his head, he says, "We didn't find any new infortrmation. But, likke Cid said, we arre discccussing wherre we'rre headed to next. To lay low and figurre out how to handle the frrrame." "Upwell will get us ccloseb to Rroselight, but not dirrrecctly undetr the Stewartds' noses. If we kkkeep ourr heads down, no one should even notice us - they'll be too busy with their own business." Once the plans are finalised, Rar'gul stands, excuses himself, and heads off for some much needed rest.
"T'sorrkkkel?" Rar'gul asks, reaching to catch the swaying shirren. His body stiffens the instant their arms touch and his eyes roll back into his head. In a searing flash, memories of times, places and people he's never known flood his consciousness, merging with his own. Burning away the haze of unremembering, the wisps of vague familiarities crystallise into clarity. The dreams! Rar'gul realises. There had been glyphs and abstract symbols interwoven with the strange vignettes that had become part of his dreaming. He hadn't known what they'd meant any more than he'd understood the glimpses of the peculiar future events. The memories passed through T'sorkel's Mind Link decode the symbols - well, most of them - but the dream visions still remain mysteries. "Yes," Rar'gul rumbles. "Yes, I'm... fine. Not overrrwhelming. It was... enlightening," he continues, finishing with a broad grin. "Let's lookk into those files."
"Upwell will worrkkk," Rar'gul rumbles in agreement, surprised by a pang of disappointment that they won't be visiting Nchak. There's still a long way ahead of us yet, he reminds himself. "I'd likke to spend a bit morre time digging into those files we found on the cccomputerrs and Narla's tablet now that we'rre not trrying to fight our way out of a hostile base," he adds. "Some of those glyphs seem strrrangely familiarr. I might be able to starrt piecing togetherr some patterrns..."
"I agrree with John's suggestion of not heading strraight for Rrroselight," Rar'gul rumbles. "The worrd is out beforrre us - we need to prroceed with cccaution." "Perrhaps we find somewherrre safe, ccclose to Liavarra, wherre we cccan get a better sense of what we'rre dealing with?" he suggests. "It's not qqquite the trriumphant rreturn home I'd imagined," he laughs. "But I have frriends and rresourrrces on Nchak. Or perrhaps Ced knows of somewherrre on Arrkkkenen," he adds, turning to their newset companion.
Rar'gul and Doc finish their search of the foes and head toward the ship. Stepping onto the ramp, he ducks his head for clearance and strides along the incline. "Oh, the Forever Queen, eh?" the dirindi says. He pulls a thin metal necklace with some discs attached to it from under his shirt. "I send some prayers to her. Same with Desna, Triune, and Talavet." He looks at the necklace. "Right, Weydan, Ibra too. Plus a prayer to Abadan for increased income never hurt." "It sounds likkke you've ccoverrred all yourr bases," the trox rumbles as he passes the dirindi. Smiling, he adds, "Helps swing the odds in yourr favourr. I'm Rarrr'gul." He nods to Cid and enters the ship.
Rar'gul resolutely stands his ground between Doc and the dirindi. When Doc announces the results of her test, he impassively maintains his protective position. His manner softens at Doc's outpouring of emotion. Completely abandoning his protective stance, he turns his back on Cidrivoot when the halfling begins crying. Reaching across his body, he gently places a broad hand on Doc's head. Crouching low, he carefully wraps his other arm around her small form, drawing her close to rest her head against his shoulder. "We'rre still herre with you, Docc," the trox buzzes softly. Wiping a tear from her cheek with a meaty index finger, he adds, "And beccause of you." Remaining in the crouching embrace, Rar'gul turns his head to glance over his shoulder in Cidrivoot's direction. "I am. Frrom Nchakkk. I serrve in the halls of the Forreverr Queen," he answers the dirindi's query in Common. "You? He holds Doc for as long as she feels the need. When she pulls away, he stands and strides over to the would-be-Pike. "I thinkk Narla was the brains, but he might give some cclues," he explains, searching the body.
Rar'gul is on the move before the reptoid hits the floor. Moving to his right, he strides by Doc and toward the mystery gunman. He takes up a protective position, interposing himself between the halfling and the dirindi. "No sudden movements," he rumbles in warning. "Stay rrright therrre while Docc rruns herrr tests." "Brreez was ourrr frriend. This test checkkks out and we ccan talk some morre."
Glancing over the reptoid's shoulder, and Doc's head, Rar'gul spots the unknown gunman. He readies to evade as they raise their pistol and take aim in his direction. The blast strikes the reptoid, narrowly missing both Doc and himself. Maybe it hit the intended target. Maybe the reptoid got in the way. Rar'gul wasn't going to wait to find out. It was time to finish the last of the reptoids and then turn their attention on the newcomer. Lifting his hands above his head, he extends his fingers, forming flat open palms. Launching his arms out to the sides, they arc around and in toward his foe, the edge of his hands striking like blades for the sides of his opponent's neck.
"Likke the perrryton, yourr shadow might be that of a man," Rar'gul rumbles, standing over Pike, making sure he doesn’t get back to his feet. "But let's see what you rreally arre." Glancing to his right, he glimpses Doc and T'sorkel each exact some revenge on the reptoid menacing them. Instinctively, he readies to dash to the pair's defense when John's advance gives him pause. That brief moment of hesitation is all the time John needs to slip behind the reptoid and take out its hamstrings. The foe falls and the decision is made for him. Rar'gul circles back around to help Doc and T'sorkel. "Doccctorrr's orrderrs - it's time forr yourrr rrest!" the trox announces as he swats at the reptoid with a backhand blow.
Rar'gul grunts, taking another heavy blow from Pike. Diverting some of the energy from the impact, he reshapes his shield into a protective field around his torso, just in time to absorb some of the impact from the second attack.
"Peryton's fitting," Rar'gul rumbles, breathing hard from exertion. "Hit like a stag... swift as a bird," he manages between breaths. He throws a jab at Pike's chest. "A half-half creature," he growls, following up with an uppercut aimed at his chin.
Again, Rar'gul braces against Pike's raking claws. The instant before the first strike lands, he subtly redirects the energy from his shield to form a protective sleeve encompassing his entire arm.
The sleeve of energy dissipates on impact, its fkows returning to their original shield formation as the full force of the second blow strikes hone.
Pausing, he trox inclines his head out of respect to his opponent's prowess before launching into his own counter-attack - a double handed strike aimed toward Pike's chest.
Toe-to-toe with reptoid-Pike, Rar'gul braces against the impact of his foe's attacks. The trox chuckles as he draws his opponent's attention. Waiting for John to capitalise on the opening, Rar'gul follows his friend's attack with a one-two combo of his own.
"Ambush!" Rar'gul's warning is punctuated by grunts as two of the enemy's shots find their mark. "I ccan see Orrvirr Pikkke and two rreptoids. Might be morrre hiding." "You got it, Docc," the trox acknowledges. "Find some ccoverrr, kkkeep yourr head down."
Dashing forward, a shimmering shield of energy forming along his forearm, Rar'gul closes on Pike's position.
Looming over the cargo the man was using for cover, he now has a clear view of his opponent. "Peekaboo. I see you," he rumbles, swatting a massive arm in a backhand towards the man.
Doc works her magic and the airlock doors slide open. Rar'gul positions himself protectively in front of his friends and strides through into the docking bay. Calmly, he cautiously surveys the large space. The sound of gunfire draws his attention and he readies for action. "Be rrready," he rumbles.
Rar'gul nods. "Best we don't get caught, then," he says sinply. "Still too much to do." He nods, waits for his friends to make ready and then, turning away to face the large doors, presses the button to open the doors.
"We might be able to use some of that as evidence to help undo whateverr Narrla has set in motion," Rar'gul says in reference to the datapad's contents. Finding the large doors to be locked, the trox steps to the side, allowing John and Doc access to the lock. He stands protectively between the doors and his companions, ready to face any trouble they encounter.
Rar'gul peers into the room and nods. "Good to know about forr Plan B," he rumbles. When his companions are ready, the trox turns his attention to the large doors to his left.
If it appears clear, and the door is unlocked, he will attempt to open it.
Rar'gul plucks Narla's datapad from the floor. "Someone want to takkke a lookk at this?" he asks, offering the device toward his companions. "May be something useful left on herrre." The trox stands protectively by John and Doc, ready to face any danger.
Thoughtful, Rar'gul cocks his head to one side. "Jarrr. Not pot," he says, grunting, before nodding once. "I've seen morre than enough of this place," the trox agrees. "Let's find a way off this rrockkk." "But firrst, let's see if this lot have anything that will help us." He checks first Narla and, after acknowledging T'sorkel's excellent work with a gentle squeeze of the shirren's shoulder as he passes, the bodies of the reptoids in the previous room.
Dispatching the reptoid, Rar'gul turns and runs to help with Narla. He is relieved to see John stirring as he reaches the doorway. "Easy now," he rumbles, bending to gently help his friend to stand. Guiding him over to a nearby seat, he adds, "That tookkk a lot of ccourrrage." Doc's banging on the console draws his attention. He stands and crosses the room, reaching her side as she finishes her emotional outpouring. Placing a broad palm lightly on top of her head he softly quotes an old Halfling saying. Halfling:
"You can lift the lid a hundred times but it won't fill the empty pot." "Whateverrr lies ahead, they alrready know we'rre herre. A short moment to cccatch our brreath and tend our wounds won't hurrrt," he rumbles. "Best we all stay togetherrr."
Rar'gul rotates his arm, deflecting the worst of the reptoid's strike with his shield.
The trox continues to press his foe, executing another poweful combo.
The reptoid's blade bites into Rar'gul's side as the wetzelt falls. Taking the hit, the trox slowly turns to face the shape changer. "Don't worrrry, frrriend," he rumbles, thrusting both palms toward his opponent's chest. "You've got my undivided attention now."
"John! No!" he calls, seeing his companion fall. For an instant, the scene before him is superimposed by the training grounds of the Forever Hall, John's body that of a critically injured brother-in-arms crumpled at his feet. It's your fault. All your fault, he hears the whispered accusations. Shaking off the ghosts of the past, he focuses his attention on the pair of foes now facing off with him. "Hang in therrre, John," he rumbles, holding an arm out before him. Shimmering energy coalesces along his forearm, forming a protective shield. "We'rrre on ourrr way." He continues his high tempo attack on the pet (and then steward?).
His attack misses Narla and she vanishes from sight. Turning in place, he searches for signs of her presence. Seeing the nearby door seemingly open on its own, he nods and glances toward his friends. "Go afterr Narla. Watch forr trrickkks," he rumbles. Rolling his broad shoulders, he hunkers down, adding, "I've got these two." He then unleashes a rapid combo at the reptiod pet (and the Steward if the pet falls)
Rar'gul tries to take advantage of an opening in Narla's defenses as she begins casting a spell...
Harnessing the stored momentum and kinetic energies within his body, Rar'gul slices at the incoming energy with the edge of his palm.
Dampen description: You can dampen the entropic release of energy in violent effects. As a reaction when you are in the area of a damaging effect, you can spend 1 Entropy Point to cause it to deal only half damage to all creatures in the area.
At 6th level, if the effect allows a save and you succeed, you can spend 1 additional Entropy Point to allow creatures that successfully save against the effect to take no damage.
Dashing along the corridor, Rar'gul follows his companions' lead. Two massive strides carry him to the other side of the room, and face to face with Narla. "You won't be in a position to stop anyone frrrom doing anything," the trox rumbles, reaching out and attempting to engulf the woman's head in his huge hand.
As he turns to leave the Rec Room, the unusual pieces of the Imperial Conquest game catch his eye.
Running a finger over the game board, e snorts. "Some of these rreptoid and grray worlds are rright, but it looks like someone just made up most of it. Still, therre might be something useful here." He collects the game.
Should nothing out of the ordinary present itself, Rar'gul turns and heads down the corridor toward the control room. "I don't want to hang arround this place a moment longerrr than necessary," he rumbles.
Rar'gul regards the small ring resting on his massive palm dubiously. Holding it aloft between thumb and forefinger, the ring resizes to fit him and he slips it onto his hand. Flexing his fingers, he considers a moment. "Don't feel any different." Rar'gul enters the rec room and glances around for anything interesting or unusual.
At the Doc's revelation of Kibotu's reptoid genetics, Rar'gul steps protectively between his companions and the recently liberated prisoner, raising his hands and rumbling, "Hold! Stay backkk." The trox relaxes hus guard slightly at the kastha-reptoids reply but remains vigilant. "Tell us about the reptoids." His voice softens as he adds, "And about how you came to be here."
Rar'gul approaches John and Doc as the pair converse. "Noce work." "That was a verry brrave gambit," he says to John. "I ccould see what you werre trrrying to do by getting past them." He adds, solemnly, "Sorrry I wasn't morre useful. It was tight quarterrs and I didn't want to get in the way." The trox nods, shouldering his hammer as he stamds tall. "Yes, a good idea. I'll ccrackkk the caskk, you be ready to drrinkk yourr fill." Turning to look at the door where the voice is emanating from, he asks, "You say the rreptoids wrrote that sign? Could be that theirr enemy is ourr frirend?"
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