Hey everyone, I have decided to write a bionicle storyline of my own, since every bio moccer on this site seems to have one. So here it is. I don't have any name for it yet, so I would love to hear what you guys think. Thanks and I hope you enjoy it(more pics will come soon!)
Btw- the Nambu nui depicted in this story is not the same as found in the LMURPG. Completely different "universes" you could say. Maybe there will be cameos of other characters? I don't know....
About this creation
"Nambu Nui is an island like all the rest. An oasis of life of many varieties, both biological and bio-mechanical, making up the beauty that was the planet Spherus Magna. Named after an ancient great spirit, this island, like the rest, was inhabited by the sentient beings known simply as matoran. Small but highly intelligent bi-pedal creatures, these bio-mechanical life forms were brought into existence by the great spirit deity which they named Mata Nui. The Matoran were created to serve the great spirit by living according to three virtues; Unity, duty, and destiny. However, these matoran and their creator came under attack by another great spirit by the name of Makuta. For many years, the forces of good struggled against this prevailing evil until it all ended in one final showdown which ended the reign of Makuta. Peace had been achieved once again.While the island, teeming with life, flourished in this new peace, the surviving matoran were no longer the same. The evil that the Makuta had spread throughout the world had left a scar upon them. They had been planted with a seed of jealousy, to act against the virtues which they cherished and even against their creator himself. They had been planted with the same jealous desire Makuta had, which was to become like Mata Nui. Thus, problems began to rise amongst the matoran. Violent acts against others, conflicts, and wars spread across the island as its inhabitants struggled with the overwhelming temptation to seek power. Mata Nui saw what his servants were doing to each other and was overwhelmed with sadness. Not even the toa could help cure the matoran from their affliction. Mata Nui did not want to destroy his servants, since these evil deeds were not their work, but the work of the evil residing in them. He only hoped that the matoran would see how unhappy they were trying to serve themselves as Makuta did, and return to the three virtues. Many did return to Mata Nui, and to this day, the struggle against evil exists within all matoran, which is why we must stay close to Mata Nui and his purifying light, so that we may find happiness in the life he has given us."
An old matoran looked up at his audience, a group of youth sitting on the floor of a small wooden hut, gazing with awe at the old storyteller with glowing eyes filled with curiosity. Many were very young, their innocence showing on their masks and chests shining with the energy of a pure heart. No less than 25 years earlier, new matoran began appearing out of protodermis pools all over Spherus Magna. Those that had remained faithful to Mata Nui interpreted it as a sign. Mata Nui was creating new servants with the hope of counteracting the prevailing corruption amongst his former children. Thus, the faithful would gather up these innocents and protect them from the corruption of the world. Dilmar was one such matoran. Although an elder, he protected the children with his life, acting as caregiver, teacher, and leader for this new generation, on which the fate of the world rested. Dilmar's village resided near the base of Mt. Zaggr, a volcanic mountain in the now extinct volcanic mountain range known as the Furno mountains. The mountain hid an active protodermis pool from which matoran were appearing. Dilmar, with the help of other faithful matoran, raised and taught the new generation of the three virtues and of the great spirit and how to live in service of their creator. After a certain number of years, these youth would reach adulthood and be released out into the world, to spread their faith all over the world, hopefully helping those matoran lost to Makuta's evil to return to their service to the great spirit.
Dilmar liked to tell stories. It was the best way he could think of to teach these little ones the truth about life. He loved to see the looks on their masks, their eagerness to learn, and the desire to be close to Mata Nui. However, raising this new generation was not easy by any means. Dilmar caught the glare of a matoran no older than 15, who was leaning against the back wall of the tiny dwelling. Just then, one of the youngsters sitting on the floor raised his hand and almost yelling, asked, "Are there any toa still alive Mr. Elder sir"? The old matoran chuckled, amused by the enthusiasm of the question, answered. "Well my boy", Dilmar explained. "After the unsuccessful attempts to cure the fallen matoran from their corruption, the toa returned to Mata Nui with the hope of someday returning when all matoran finally return to the three virtues, for only through Mata Nui can matoran become toa. That is why there are currently no toa", he stated.
"Or they simply don't exist", a voice echoed from the back of the hut.
Dilmar gave a tired sigh. "Please, Alomar, not in front of the children".
"But it's true!!!", a scrawny matoran came forward.
A child of 15 years, Alomar was nothing special. A skinny frame with no real protection for vital parts, other than a red sash and a rusty old helmet he had found as a child, which he used to compensate for a lack of a mask.
"If the toa really existed, our village wouldn't have been attacked and Gaspar wouldn't have been taken away!", he spoke to the confused faces of the other children.
Dilmar felt bad for Alomar. Two years earlier, the village was attacked by the imperial army of the Nambu Empire. A nation founded by fallen Matoran, it's solitary goal was the submission of all islanders to its rule through any means necessary. The empire had attacked Dilmar's village for the sole reason the village existed; The newly created matoran. Among those children taken in the raid was Alomar's close friend, who saved Alomar from captivity by being taken captive himself. Many young matoran were taken and the village had to be re-located deeper into the mountains to prevent further raids.
"Alomar, we all have lost many dear to us, but that alone does not justify a lack of faith", Dilmar responded earnestly.
Alomar retorted, "what does faith have to do with anything"?
Dilmar's eyes raised in surprise. "Everything happens for a reason, Alomar, and believe it or not, you have a destiny just like all of us here. You are a fool to put yourself above your brothers and sisters."
"You're wrong!" Alomar yelled. "I don't belong here. I've never belonged here. You say that we're all friends and brothers, but no one wants to associate with a matoran without a mask".
Alomar turned and before Dilmar could say anything, he was gone.
The village was very simple in nature. Huts made of branches, rocks and bark, clustered close together, surrounded by a meager' wall of rocks, tree trunks, and mud. Alomar ran toward the wall, dodging villagers going about their work. Dusk was falling, and the village gate would be closing. He could see two of the village guardians cranking the mechanism that was lowering a large wooden gate that was nearly closed. Mustering his strength, Alomar sprinted forward and slid under the gate just before it closed. He knew they would not open it again until morning. After all, this was not the first time Alomar had spent the night outside the village. Taking one last look at the village, he turned and took off into the ever darkening forest.
If there was anyone that knew the wilderness surrounding Mt. Zaggr, it was Alomar. Granted, not many of the children were allowed outside the village anyway, at least not until they were old enough to help the elders by hunting or collecting supplies. Alomar did none of these things, and spent most of his time exploring the wilderness, looking for new places and things to see. He began the hike up to his favorite view-spot on the side of the mountain. He spent most of his childhood up there with Gaspar, a cocky onu-matoran with a knack for getting into trouble. He was two years older than Alomar, but from the day they met as little children to the night they were separated, they were the best of friends. Both of them would escape frequently to sleep under the stars and watch the sunrise bounce off the jagged mountains in the far distance. They talked about setting out together and seeing the world, having epic adventures and meeting many people along the way. Sitting down on the rocky bluff overlooking the surrounding valley, Alomar sighed, knowing that those dreams would never come true. He only hoped that Gaspar was well, and that he wouldn't forget the memories they had shared together. In a sudden rush of anger, he turned to the sky and yelled, "why?! Why did he have to go and leave me here alone! If you dumb heroes and great spirits exist, the least you can do is help your people!...because I can't stand being alone". As if on cue, a low rumble became audible in the distance. To Alomar, something was odd about this sound. There had been no clouds in the sky all day, nor any wind. The sound continued without ceasing and was steadily growing louder. Alomar had a bad feeling about this. It was common knowledge that the empire was always hunting for the "new-generation" matoran and the protodermis pools that spawned them. But they never get this close. Not since that day two years ago. Alomar could now see lights from what appeared to be a large caravan approaching from the south. Many large vehicles and soldiers, probably from a imperial outpost nearby, were moving quickly in the direction of the village, which was around the other side of the mountain. How did they know where to go? Who was giving them directions? In his confusion, Alomar did not notice one of the lights seperate from the group until it was too late to hide. A large black flying machine had a search light shining on the scrawny matoran as it began to descend from the black night sky. For a moment, Alomar stood motionless, and fear came over him. He was a goner. They would capture him and then what? Where would they take him? But then he remembered something. Two years earlier, right before the raid in which Gaspar was taken, the two youth had stumbled across the ruins of an old temple at the base of the mountain. They had told no one, and planned to explore it fully. After the raid, Alomar had taken it upon himself to fullfill the plan they had made, and had spent the last two years digging and exploring deep into the ruins, which seemed more like an ancient fortress than a temple. He knew of an entrance only a little way down the path, but he would still have to run fast to make it. Turning quickly, he took off sprinting down the mountain letting gravity propel him downward. He heard voices yelling behind him, and occasionally sparks from ricocheting projectiles would appear on either side of him. He was watching the rocky mountain side ahead of him. He could not miss his escape route. If he did not find the entrance soon, he would either be killed or captured. The voices were getting closer when all of a sudden, Alomar spotted a small shadowy patch on the mountain side ahead. He could feel gunfire hitting the ground at his heels, and, with one last burst of speed, leapt into the air and dived headfirst into the hole, leaving his pursuers in the darkness outside.
Alomar opened his eyes only to close them again to keep the dust from clogging his image receptors. Slowly standing up, Alomar entered a furious fit of coughing, trying to clear the thick layer of airborne debris from entering his lungs. The area around him was pitch black, and could only just make out a small crevasse toward the back of the small cave he was in. He had fallen down some sort of ventilation shaft, and determined that he had been unconscious for a long time due to the coldness he felt. This place was unfamiliar to him. Had he found a new part of the ruins by mistake? Feeling his way around, he eventually found the crevasse. Sticking his hand out, he could feel a faint breeze coming from the hole. With an exit in sight, he began to inch himself through the small opening, measuring every movement with as much precision as possible. He had come across similar crevasses in his past explorations, and despite the fact that he was a bit claustrophobic, his desire to see what lied beyond surpassed his fear. Alomar wondered what was happening in the village right now. Did the empire find the village, or did they avoid detection. Alomar knew that worrying would not help, so he focused on what he was doing instead. After what seemed like an eternity, the tunnel began to widen and Alomar was able to go from crawling on his stomach to a low crouch. Almost at the same time, his vision began to return, indicating that there was a source of light ahead. Alomar realized that this tunnel was different than the rest of the ruins he had explored. This place looked much older, even ancient compared to what he had been excavating on his own. He passed some text etched into the wall, but it was so eroded that he did not bother reading it. Nor would he have been able to understand it if he had. Finally, Alomar saw what appeared to be an exit ahead. He approached what appeared to be some sort of large room, although it was hard to tell how big due to a large mountain of rubble and debris that practically filled it. Looking up, he saw what he had been looking for. A hole in the ceiling of the room was letting in light from the surface above. Alomar immediately began climbing the debris pile, which would allow him to reach the opening without much difficulty. As he got closer, he could see and smell the vegetation and clean air of the jungle outside. He realized how far he had traveled underground. He guessed that the cave he had fallen into had been very deep in the mountain, which would explain the age of these seemingly ancient ruins. He could also make out what appeared to be a large statue that was buried under the rock pile. Alomar was intrigued by the large black helmet-like head, which gave off a very impressive and intimidating vibe. He was definitely going to come back and explore the place thoroughly, but right now, he had to see the village. He had to know that they were ok. He had been underground for the entire night, and he knew the old matoran would be worried about him. Finding a sturdy place to stand on top of the statue's head, he crouched down, leaped upward and grabbed the edge of the hole. Pulling himself up, he looked to find out where he was. The jungle canopy was too thick to see the sky, so Alomar climbed up one of the massive trees to get a better look. Emerging from the top of the canopy, the sight that lay before him made him sick.
A column of black smoke was rising from the place where the village should have been. Alomar could just barely make out a convoy of black war machines beginning to depart from the area escorted by some of the same flying machines he had encountered the night before.
"No"...Alomar whimpered. He could not believe what he was seeing. "It can't be...They couldn't have found it...they can't be all gone!"
Without thinking, Alomar slid down the tree, and took off running toward the village as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him. Back in the cave, a disturbance caused some rocks to fall, and two large blue eyes began to glow with a newly discovered anger.
Fourth wallpaper - I know it's a bit long to read, but I hope someone does read it and finds it interesting. The character followed in this story is part of my first ever self-moc on this site, even though I have been on here since...I don't remember. Anyway, if you feel dissatisfied picture wise, it is because I will be displaying the actual moc in the next chapter of the story. So stay tuned!!!