Welcome to Pandaria

What an adventure.

Kameyama had discussed the potential of visiting overseas with Optix, and made a spur of the moment decision to board a ship to another island. He hadn’t even seen where. At the time, the it was fun to take a trip on the fly, living like he never had when he was a young man. Enjoying friendly games with other travelers, it seemed like the right idea for a while.

Then, of course, everything went to shit. The fog seemed to come from nowhere. Kameyama had been hanging around on deck at the time, enjoying the sea breeze when the air seemed to grow thick and muggy, so bad at times that one could not see their hand before their face. Panic started to spread when word got around that they had gone off course, and it was all Kameyama could do to help assuage the fears of others. That amounted to very little when the ship itself actually crashed, sending people overboard and into the perilous water below.

For his part, Kameyama developed a system wherein he placed someone on his back, sent a small shock through their system to keep their hands locked together, then creating an opposite charge along the water for himself to run against. This constant jolt of energy seemed as though he was running on water, when in actuality it was something closer to hovering over it. This allowed him to get at least ten or so people to shore before he realized that others had helped in doing so as well. Namely two younger, better looking people. For the moment he let them have the spotlight, as it seemed they’d done most of the work anyway. Thanks to them, no one had died.

The journey had been made stranger by the introduction of… panda men. These creatures lived on this island and offered food and shelter to the stranded group, but no way for them to get off the island. They had been born on the island, they would die on the island, and without a proper way to leave, this ship’s inhabitants would now join them. Those with magical abilities, Kameyama, the two younger ones and perhaps another, had discovered that their magical abilities had been stifled by the surrounding fog. Further testing showed Kameyama that the limits of his abilities had been reduced to just beyond what he had managed with the fog. If he tried very hard he could summon enough electricity to create a weak fire but the fog quickly ate at the flames and smothered the kindling. Throughout the week he’d lost most of the coat that covered his arms, and had instead replaced it with bandaging given by the panda people. His arms were covered in scars shaped like streaks of lightning that constantly glowed a light blue, and the bandages kept them out of sight.

The days passed in bursts, a clean mixture of frustration, sympathy, powerlessness and kindness had gotten them this far. Optix seemed fine in the fog, at least. The pendant around Kameyama’s neck had started off as a customized iLac system but being an artificial intelligence, it seemed to be in the process of becoming… more. Every once and again Optix would go to sleep or recharge, then come back happier and more energetic than ever. Kameyama didn’t fully understand how computers of this caliber worked, and was fine to let her do whatever she wanted. It never occurred to him that basic computers shouldn’t ‘want’ to do anything.

And so it was a relief when one day, just after their midday meal, one of the mages spoke. As word had quickly spread, she was royalty of some kind, and yet didn’t seem to want to take advantage of it at the moment. For that, she had Kameyama’s respect. Royalty that wasn’t afraid to get down in the muck during times of hardship. In his mind, this made her a woman of the people and a leader to be trusted.

“Our respected hosts say it’s been here always. That could just mean it’s been here a few generations or it could mean it’s somehow a part of the island. Fog usually moves with the wind but this stuff seems almost like a fixture. That could mean it comes from underground somehow. I say that because if it came from above us, it’d clear up every once in a while and I haven’t seen the sun since we got here. I feel like I'm going to permanently prune up…” His rudeness occurred to him, and he looked between the Lady and the other mage, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude. Was I interrupting?”

WC: 810/2500

Kameyama nodded in agreement with what the two younger mages had said. To the young man he quickly offered, “I think it sounds a good idea.” He turned his gaze to the Lady next, his eyes following hers towards the mountain in the distance. It was true that this was probably the most obvious place to begin, but if it were so obvious a solution, why hadn’t the pandmen attempted to solve the problem themselves? Could it be they didn’t mind the fog?

The answer came quicker than he’d wanted, when Serilda’s eyes snapped in a different direction. Almost as if the two were tied together, her canine companion’s head snapped just the same. Kameyama adjusted himself to stand, but ensured that he didn’t do it too quickly so as to arouse any suspicion. The worried look of the pandafolk told him that no one would quite be paying attention to what he was doing, at least not at the moment. Slowly getting to his feet, he brushed the sand and dirt off of himself and readied for a confrontation.

As the pandaman explained the situation with slight reluctance, Kameyama let out a low aggravated huff of air, “Racketeers,” He said, tone dripping with poison. Criminals were criminals everywhere. This reminded Kameyama of a situation that had occurred in his small village. A mobster had attempted to move into their humble town and set up a similar situation. Before he could find proper footing, he befell an accident that lit both of his cars on fire and under equally mysterious circumstances found a burning hot railroad spike imbedded in his doorstep.

Kameyama had experience chasing away lowlifes.

Stepping forward with likely more confidence than he should have had, he took point as twelve giant stone creatures appeared through the mist. They were larger than he had anticipated, but with all the stubbornness of someone with absolute conviction, he didn’t back down. It occurred to him however, a moment before it became too late, that he may need to have someone translate for him. Luckily he likely had such a device around his neck. “Optix,” He murmured, “What are the chances you can translate to this thing?”

“I can certainly try,” The small AI responded in her high pitched feminine voice.

“Great. And do us a favor, lower the voice a few octaves. Try to match my own.”

“You got it,” Said Kameyama. Wait. Optix.

“Get out of the way, we have business.” The Mogu said as it approached.

“Yes, I am aware. That is why I wish to speak to you. I and my compatriots have an offer that you may be interested in.” It seemed as though he was whispering first, then repeating himself in a louder, translated voice even before the original sentence had finished being spoken.

“An offering for the Thunder King? Hmpf. Very well. State your presence here, Squish.” The Mogu snapped as the twelve of them reached Kameyama and the others. Behind the one speaking, the others already seemed antsy. They had approached with weapons drawn, and their intentions were nothing but clear.

“These people have provided food and shelter to we who have washed ashore. We are here to treatise for their freedom from your false protection contract.” Kameyama responded.

“Ha! You’re here to break contract? Fine! Those who do not wish to be protected by the Thunder King will fall to his might!”

“Perhaps you misunderstand my request. Or perhaps you misunderstand my request as a request,” Kameyama said emphatically, “We speak now peacefully. We have some small amount of jewels to seal this compromise if you would simply like to—“

“Enough of this!” The lead Mogu swung a foot-tall fist in a backhand straight at Kameyama’s head. Likely to the surprise and shock of anyone watching, the aging warrior grabbed the fist before it could make contact with his skull (gasping it with both hands) and managing to halt the momentum of the swing after only sliding back a few inches.

Still holding onto the fist and clearly ready to retaliate, Kameyama looked to Serilda and the young man. Speaking in his own voice now, in the common tongue, he said, “This counts as an attempt at a peaceful resolution, doesn’t it?”

WC:723
TWC:1533/2500

“Yeah,” Kameyama, through gritted teeth, responded to the male, “That checks.”

Seemingly at the instant of him catching the Mogu’s fist, everything broke into chaos. The other two took to battle as easy as breathing. Kameyama found himself caught in the moments between moments, watching the two of them take off like a flash of light, working in complete tangent to take down the group of stone men. Even with their powers diminished, these two raged as though they were demons, fueled by battlefire flawless in execution. With his powers brought down, the aging mage was much less powerful. With everything special that had been bestowed upon him stripped away, he was merely a normal human.

No. Not just a human.

Still Kameyama.

He pressed back against the fist just enough to duck underneath as the Mogu began to redouble his blow with extra force. This beast was strong enough to rip his limbs apart, so Kameyama would have to show him speed and wit beyond. His duck turned to a roll as the Mogu brought down a massive hammer where Kameyama had been just moments prior. The slam of the weapon was earth-shaking, as the weapon itself was clearly the size of Kameyama’s torso at least. The stone grip was easily the size of his forearm and the Mogu giant wielded it with such ease.

But there was no time to gawk and gaze at how the creature was bigger than him. Assessing his opponent, the aging mage realized that a stone adversary would likely have fewer weaknesses than a flesh one, but have a few that were shared. It still seemed to have all of the normal moving parts, joints that bent, muscles that tensed, chests that rose and fell with heavy breaths. Dodging another heavy, slow attack, Kameyama spared a moment to look at the sword wielding male who had taken to attacking with gusto. This rampant assault taught him something vital.

They still seemed to… bleed.

Such as it was, at any rate. Pebbles that flew outward from blows that landed like dams breaking across mountains. Still, this was something that Kameyama could easily imitate, albeit not with the same level of force. Reaching behind him to the strange dagger that had been strapped across his back, he unfolded it into a sort of collapsible spear. Against the raw might of the hammer and the force of gravity, it wouldn’t do much. However, against the weak point of a wrist, it would work wonders. Timing his attack just right, Kameyama shoved the spear upwards as he rolled to the left. Given the angle of the downward swing, and the way the Mogu had been holding his weapon, if he managed to pierce the stone, the shock of pain could cause the grunt to drop his weapon. If Kameyama was extra lucky, he’d drop it on his own foot. Comedic? Yes. Valuable? Moreso. The hammer would shatter bone of a normal creature, but with the carried momentum of the lost attack on stone, it would break the Mogu’s foot.

Fortunately for all but the opponents, Kameyama was nothing if not extremely lucky. The hammer hit its target, breaking off two of the three claws on the creature’s right foot. There was no humorous howl combined, the Mogu did not hop up and down grabbing his foot then blowing on a quickly reddening sore spot. This was the moment when things became all too real for the giant stone creature.

Not waiting for another moment, Kameyama reached for the hammer and lifted it with surprising ease, catching the creature in the chin and causing him to fly backward as his jaw quite literally shattered. Capitalizing on the attack, Kameyama rushed forward and slammed the hammer down, causing all squirming to stop in a small avalanche that signaled the end of a life.

Hefting the hammer upon his shoulder, Kameyama moved on to the next opponent that came towards him. He brought the massive weapon around and caught his foe in the shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards. However, Kameyama wasn’t fully trained in how to wield a weapon of this massive size and the momentum carried him forward into a tumbling roll to his feet. The dexterity that he had over these creatures was just narrow enough to get him out of a few scrapes.

But not enough to make him immortal. As he rolled back to his feet, the same Mogu caught him in the chest with a massive blow comparable to the one he’d caught with his open palms earlier in the tussle. He let out a forcible breath of air as his body seemed to crumple against the sheer force of the punch. “Squish not so strong now!” The Mogu roared as it grabbed Kameyama’s former weapon. This, along with his own axe, would be more than enough to turn Kameyama into his own personal avalanche.

At this point, he heard Serilda’s voice calling out to keep someone alive. It occurred to him that if he were to keep someone alive, he would have to live to do so. As the creature brought up both weapons to fully explain why the mortal races were called ‘Squish’, Kameyama lurched forward. It hurt to do so, his chest screamed for him to cease movement and stay still. Help would arrive. The other two were much stronger.

His mind didn’t listen. He reached upwards, jumping to his feet and placing his palms on the solar plexus of the creature, about as high as he could currently reach. There, pulling all of his pain, anguish and feelings of comparable weakness into raw magic, he charged basic electricity into the Mogu.

It was stone. Stone didn’t carry current. But the trace minerals within them do. So Kameyama forced everything he had into the creature’s chest. The look of determination on the Mogu’s face turned into one of surprise, as the rage state remained in Kameyama. His thoughts were on the people that had rescued them. They had been severely wronged. If Kameyama let this one go, and they had no more leads to the Thunder King, this reign of terror would continue. There would be no next crash landing.

His body shouldn't have been able to produce this much energy. He could feel the strangulation of this place weighing down on him, threatening to shut him off from what was sustaining this moment. Blood began to drip from Kameyama’s nose as he forced the electricity into the creature’s stone form. Around his fingertips the stone began to melt and the weapons slid from the Mogu’s arms down behind him to the ground. Kameyama’s eyes sparked with electricity as the Mogu slowly dropped to the ground, twitching with trace amounts of current flowing through his body. As he collapsed to the side, Kameyama sat down on top of his chest, hiding the Mogu's burn marks. Thankfully his own chest wounds weren’t visible to the naked eye. “Got one alive,” He announced, “I’ll hold him down. Go for it with the rest!”

WC: 1180
TWC: 2713/2500