Bork Lazer

Wal Quest - Interactive Post Apocalyptic Quest

Made a mistake while copy-pasting. Options should be avaliable for viewing right now.

Wal Quest - Interactive Post Apocalyptic Quest

[X] - You spot a person of interest in the crowd, one who distinguishes themselves from the vast horde of raving aislers…...[1]

[X] - A woman dressed similar to you, but in a mail of bright yellow cardboard instead of alabaster paper. She bears the insignia of a yellow bumblebee on her chest plate. [1]

---

In the dour crowd, you notice she’s the only one to bear an infectious grin as she continues to pepper random aislers around her with questions. The smell of cardboard intermixed with frosted sugar stings your nose as you close in on her. Her freckled face, tightly bound with hexagonal swimming goggles, looks around curiously yet not with naivete as her left hand touches the handle of a wickedly curved needle that’s about the size of your forearm.

You lightly prod her shoulder just as she’s in the middle of having a conversation with a beleaguered Greenthumb.

“ Forgive me for my intrusion, dear Elf, but would you happen to know where - ” She pauses the moment you make contact with her cardboard armor. Before you can even introduce yourself, she turns towards you in a blink of a eye, hovering around you and babbling in a language you

“ OhbyFructoseandSucroseareyouaSamurai?I’veneverseenoneinthefleshbefore!The detailsofyourDepartment’sexploitshavebeenspreadlikenutellaallovertheGrocery department!ThisisthemostamazingmomentofmylifesinceI-” She takes in a deep breathe. Just when you thought it was over, she continues again at the same ear-blistering pace. “WhenthelegendaryZ-GripassistedSugarFrostintheevacuationoftheIkeanLamplightsin thedawnoftheSeventhWinterSeasonal.OrhowcouldIforgetaboutthetimewhenClanCastilo joinedforceswiththePathoftheTigertoshutdownanIceCreamtraffickingrouteintheNorthern Aisles.EventhestoryofTicoderongathe Majesticwhobeatoneofourmostsacredpaladinsin a joustingmatchwithonlyafiveinchpen-”

Her spastic ramblings are catching the attention of the entire crowd as she continues to thunder on with glee. You wave your arms up in a placating manner, eyes shifting around nervously. By the Founding Clans, didn’t she have an off switch?

“ At ease.” You whisper urgently. “ Whilst I appreciate your departmental appreciation, it would be better to converse with each other about such matters in a more…” Your eyes stare at a nearby Dorf. “ ...private location.”

“ Oh, I’m just - “ She mumbles, a flustered expression on her face. “ - Gosh, it’s not everyday you get to meet a Samurai.”

“ And it’s not everyday I get to meet a Cereai.” You reply back in turn. You notice her cheeks turn a deeper shade of red after you mention it. “ Let’s continue this in that abandoned Coupon Booth over there.”

---

“ Oh, thank you so much for agreeing to help me!” Your head thrums as you spot the blessed shadow of the Coupon Booth in the distance. The Cereai continues to speak with a grateful tone as the both of you walk together. “ I’ve been trying to find someone for the last hour or so to help me in my - “

“ Just as long as you agree to get me out of this hellhole.” You cut her off.

Once the both of you reach the booth, the Cereai reaches into her pockets, making you tense for a moment. It’s only once she pulls out two foil-covered bars that you relax. You take the oatmeal bar she offers you and sit on top of a dilapidated conveyer belt whilst the Cereai chews on her own bar as if she’s a guinea pig tearing off chunks of flesh.

“ I never thought I’d see a Cereai all the way out here in the Bargain Bin.” you comment.

“Not a knight. A squire.” You take a taste of the bar as she grumbles bitterly. The thick honey coats your tongue so much that it takes a few gulps before you can properly breath. “ Initiate Squire Melissa of the Path of the Holy Insect. At your service.”

“ What are you doing here?” Your right eyebrow furrows. “ I thought all the Grocery Department was too chaotic for the Cereai to venture out of it.”

“ We are!” She blurts out too quickly before sagging backwards slightly with a smile that tugs too hard at the edges. “ Well, the knights are. We’re running out of members quickly. The Path of the Insect tasked me on a penance of nutrition four seasons ago, to help the unhealthy, to cleanse the obese and to ensure dietary balance wherever I go. Only after I complete my penance will I be recognised as a fully fledged Cereai.”

“ It must have been hard.” You say. “ Being on your own.”

“ Oh not at all, “ She shakes her head. “ Most Cereai merely devote themselves to their craft but forget the true purpose of our founding. To protect the average aisler. The price of protecting the innocent is higher than that of any cereal or cardboard I cloak myself in.” Her smile then twitches. “ Or, so I believe.”

“ So, why are you here in the first place?”
She takes an awful while to answer the question, finishing off the remainder of her oatmeal bar. She then peeks around the corner, checking to see that no one is listening in on your conversation before speaking.

“ Have you ever heard of Fort Monopoly?”

“ The Dorfs?” The Stationary Shogunate had few dealings with the bearded squat men before. They were useful but notoriously unstable and immature due to their exposure to the mysterious elixir only known as Age B Gone. Why would a Cereai ally with those who were responsible for the downfall of their own Department. “ Why would you involve yourself with those obsessive maniacs?”

You try not to wince at her judgemental glare. “ They needed help. I found them on the outskirts of the Bargain Bin, recovering from a straggler of Nevergrows. Their Fort had just been ransacked and their men, women, children were all but skin and bones. I protected them until they made it all the way to the Bargain Bin. I’ve kept them safe for the last few months. They plied their trade and managed to accrue enough wealth for the last Seasonal. We were supposed to leave three days ago until - “

“ The Smilers.” You realise, cursing those wretched cultists. “ The Smilers damaged your only exit route.”

Melissa nodded with a wry smile. “ Since then, the Dorfs have been working on another way out of here. We’ve recently got a tip off on an old abandoned Shopping Cart Mark 3.0, Employee Model. The heavy duty kind that’s strong enough to carry the entire of the Fort out of the Bargain Bin.”

“ So, what’s stopping you from getting it?”

The Cereai lifts up two honey-greased fingers. “ Firstly, it’s location. I know where it’s located in the Inner Bin but it’s been sealed off along with the main Exit Gate ever since the Smiler attack. Only one of the guards know the way in and I’ve been having little luck convincing them. Secondly, it can only be activated with a valid Employee Card. I spotted one at the Bazaar before the attack but the sampler who sells it has gone missing. My bet is that he’s still in the bin somewhere.”

You scratch your chin as you begin to decide your options.

[X] - Accompany her to focus on one task. There’s better strength in numbers as your recent ordeal has taught you.

[X] - Split up and focus on individual tasks. The sooner you complete this, the faster you’ll get out of this accursed bin.

KARSTS - A World Beyond Eons

@Bork Lazer

Since we lost a player, are we gonna get another one before continuing after this round of posts?

@Adverb

The waiting period will probably ruin the pace so I'll probably hold off on that until the next round of posts.

KARSTS - A World Beyond Eons

Everyone, this is unrelated to the roleplay at hand but Gong Xi Fa Cai! Happy Chinese New Year and I wish good fortunes upon everyone here, including former and present players.

KARSTS - A World Beyond Eons

@Bork Lazer Would you prefer that the Page 1 Gang start interacting with each other, or wait for the others to get their intro posts in?

@pugbutter

Honestly, a combination of both. If any of you want to start collaborating or interacting with each other whilst I wait for the others to post, that would be fine. However, once everyone has given a post, I'll start writing the GM post. However, you can use the time between to interact if you want to.

KARSTS - A World Beyond Eons

I'm truly at a loss for what to post as an intro.

@Dark Cloud

If you're having problems, you can PM me if you require assistance.

Wal Quest - Interactive Post Apocalyptic Quest

[X] - Find another way through. [2]

---

You make one last try. You puff your chest and attempt to insert some degree of authority into your speech.

“ I am on a sacred quest from my Clan. Prevent me from leaving and you bring the wrath of the Shogunate on you.”

The guard doesn’t budge and instead, merely laughs as he slams the long chair leg he’s holding against the ground for emphasis.

“ Right…...I’ve heard better lies.” He sarcastically drawls. “ Even if that were true, I still wouldn’t let you through. Your Clan could send a penja to kill me and I’d still make sure my dead body would be parked right here preventing your paper ass from leaving the Bin.”

There’s no point in arguing with him further. You note with relief that the guard’s face turns momentarily white when your hand wavers to the pommel of your sword. You then stop and then, give a curt nod as you turn around and leave.

“ I wish you the best of luck in your duties.”

He leaves one last parting jab. “ Good to see you have common sense - HEY!” He points over your shoulder. Following his finger, you see a dorf covered in a ensemble of Lego attempting to scale the melted plastic walls with a makeshift grappling hook. “Someone get that dorf down from there before he attracts an entire horde onto us!”

As the guards were distracted with the trespasser, you began ruminating on these new circumstances.

There were only a few ways out of the Bargain Bin. Sneaking over the walls and going through uncharted paths was a risky bet. Going on unpatrolled and untravelled paths was a scratch coupon he wasn’t willing to bet on. Even the most experienced Samurai were leery of such an option and would scout ahead for any possible dangers. You didn’t have the time or luxury for that.

Otherwise, there were no spills nearby the Bargain Bin to take advantage of. You heard of a Portable Toliet that a group of Cleaners retrofitted into a trafficking route. Its availability was cut short by the steep prices that the Cleaners charged for transport and you severely doubt that you had enough on you to pay the steep price that the Cleaners offered……

[X] - Sneak out through the walls. It’s not the most safe option but it’s the most obvious one. You’ll have to count on your training to make it through the aisles of wasted Shelves and find a safe trail.

[X] - Contact the crew of Cleaners in the Bargain Bin and see if you can hitch a ride on one of their ships.

You take a look around to see what possibilities are available to you. A few opportunities come to mind as you look around in the crowd.

[X] - You spot a person of interest in the crowd, one who distinguishes themselves from the vast horde of raving aislers…...

[X] - A woman dressed similar to you, but in a mail of bright yellow cardboard instead of alabaster paper. She bears the insignia of a yellow bumblebee on her chest plate.

[X] - A gaunt man of chrome and metal. He chitters in a spastic language, with several strange symbols emblazoned across his skintight suit. He busily types away on a tronic device, skittishly looking around at everyone else who steers away from him.

[X] - Strange. Is that a tree? The elders told the origins of paper to you once, where before the Fall, your ancestors harvested pulp from beings of brown and green. You’ve heard many tales of trees before but none of them mentioned them having four limbs and a head. The word ‘ ALL NATURAL COMPOST’ has been carved with a knife into their woody body.

Bork Lazer's Storage Bunker

THE WILD CAT

Theodore 'Ted' Grant, 31 (b. 1937)
_{Based in Las Vegas, Nevada
Inactive since approximately 1937}

Character Concept

---

Key Notes

---

KARSTS - A World Beyond Eons

---

“ I reap for what others sow in the salt.”

Reseph, The Above, unknown source

---

18th of Uulu Ut, 3 A.R, The Shallows

The heavy purples of the Shallows were fading gently into the blues of the Harvest Dawn, like a painter mixing together a palette. The Moghra’Yi glittered in the shallowlight, briefly resembling a phantom of the once mighty waters that cut through the Rust Shelves. With the sun spilling over the white sand, the light inexorably dripped into a rising tide that luminated the caverns and canyons, millennia of history whetted in each stripe of dried sediment.

Atop a withered witchwood log, Alu thought it was the most remarkable sight he’d ever seen in his travels.

The raccoon stood a lonely vigil on his haunches, his phosphorescent blue fur twitching in the cold shadow of the canyons. He wore a vestment of burnt ridgebark tapered together with strips of skin with a green steelsilk cloak shadowing over his heads. Tied around his waist with his tail were two steel-quenched stilettos the length of fallen twigs. Two bracelets, inlaid with copper whorls, were clasped around his wrists. His scarred paws were clutched on an oblong pipe carved from a crab shell. His right head took a deep breath from the mouthpiece and puffed out a series of cloudy hoops whilst his other head acted the part of a sentinel. The vapor, scented with dried urberry, trickled down his maw and electrified his nerves, blinding his hands and feet with heat before simmering down into a mild sweetness. They floated upward, bobbing up and down like jellicines, before dissipating into thin air.

He peered down to Hagashem on top of the rocky outcrop he was on. From this point, he could see the entirety of the slumbering village. The sandstone huts were built on different canyon shelfs, making use of the limited space as best as they could. Decks had been built at the edge of each of the geyser pools, lines and nets hung from them into the still waters below. The highest one, where the elder stayed in, was gated behind a wall of thatched brinestalk with guard goats patrolling the battlements. The only sources of light he could make out were the now fuming cinders of the sconces erected around the village and the prowling ray cats that skittered along the pebbled paths.

Suddenly, his whiskers twitched. He could smell a rustle in the cat bristle bushes behind him. He unholstered his brinewood derringer and fired off one warning shot into the shrubline.

“ Who goes there?” growled Alu’s right head. “ Reveal yourself before I reveal your corpse.”

The bushes parted. Alu lowered the barrel, his fur now glowing a brighter shade of blue in embarrassment. No, it wasn’t a snapjaw. It was a dromad. Specifically, a very annoying dromad that had been one of his most faithful companions throughout the entire expedition. Ivory robs swaddled his entire upper body, decorated with the tapestries of one of the Argent Fathers, Alu couldn’t tell which, knighting a Mechanimist. His ungulate face was sandscratched and veiled in a fleece scarf that was weaved in the highlands of Mercalli. Down his neck swayed trinkets that hung from flaxen necklaces, chiming raucously with every turn of the head. Pouches and skins could be seen stuffed underneath every corner of his body. Alu’s whiskers could pick up the thick odor of perfumes that made him gag, even, though he’d warned him a dozen times that it would attract stray predators.

“ By the Argent Fathers, I’ve been looking all over Hageshem for you! No wonder you were so hard to find, you weren’t even in the village in the first place! ” The man-camel spoke in a rich accent that had been refined and forged in the dying heat of desert bazaars. He then looked down at Alu’s pistol with amusment. “ If you are going to shoot me, I recommend aiming to my right instead Dromad hearts are located ipsilaterally to most races.”

“ Live and drink, Bacter.” Alu’s right head sighed, rolling its eyes, whilst his left still peered at the sunrise, its molten light cascading down on the saltmarsh.

“ Live and drink, Alu.” Bacter replied back. The orange light was now spreading across the red sands of Hagashem, reminding the raccoon of the soft blaze of a campfire. “ What are you doing perusing the salt winds this early?”

“ Taking watch,” he lied. Well, half-lied. It was said that the Spindle was the most magnificent during the Harvest Dawn, a chrome tendon between two planes of existence. He’d also done it to get away from the prying eyes and questions of the villagers.

“ That or wasting your time away with that shisha.” Bacter’s took a draught of the humid air around Alu, nostrils flaring “ Is that scented water I do detect? Of course a plebian like you couldn’t handle raw, undiluted water.”

“ It allows me to concentrate better.”

“ Whilst I do applaud your vigilance, Warden Iya is more than capable of standing watch over this little canyon hamlet..” Bacter gave a little chuff of amusement as he approached Alu’s vigil from behind.“ Unless you are not confident of her abilities…..?”

“ I do not lack faith in the quillipede.” Alu’s left head looked at the dromad with a hard glare “ Regardless, this expedition is my responsibility and I am the leader. I should be the first to wake and the last to sleep.”

Bacter settled down next to Alu, sitting cross-hoofed in a hunched stance. The dromad took a deep breath, the sound of wet throttling in his lungs, as if he was preparing to undertake a pilgrimage.

“ Alu. You haven’t relaxed since we strode a parasang past Joppa. Look at the sky. Taste the salt in the air. You are breathing Qud’s air. Your paws are awash with its soil.” The dromad took a scoop of soil with his three digits and tilted his palm, letting it fall back to the ground. “ When we started this journey,my kin believed we would die crossing the Yawningmoon. I believed we would be skinned alive and our corpses butchered into sweetbread by the scorpion-men in Satur.” He then chuckled distantly, rubbing the wispy hairs on his chin. “ I remember at the beginning when our journey nearly failed because you couldn’t hold yourself from strangling a water merchant who overcharged his prices. We’ve come so far, Alu, and yet, still you are unhappy?”

“ Bacter, I am unhappy because we still have so far to go.” Alu pointed a finger towards the left, beyond Hagashem, where the mottled swamps of the salt marshes began to mix with the outlying fortification of trunks and trees that made up the borders of Qud’s jungles. Behind it, Alu could see the green hills and mounds, imagining the buried chrome that laid underneath the bed of roots, desiccated leaves and loam.

“ In spite of your penchant for realism, you pay little attention to the other members of our company.”said Bacter. “ Have you ever thought about how far they would be willing to go for your dream?”

“ Our interests align, Bacter.” Alu looked away from his friend, hunching in discomfort. “ It’s not as complicated as you make it out to be.”

“ You made them think your interests aligned with theirs. You sweetened the deal by offering them shade and water. You concealed your lofty dreams as theirs, like baiting a madpole with blood.The True Kin from the Cloud Temples......The moon priest....” Bacter palmed his face in shame. " I thought you had gone half mad when you allowed that Black Shelf calf into our expedition...."

“ Do you not think I have thought of that?” Alu snapped. “If they knew what I was grasping for, the very stuff of the Eaters… Why doubt me now? After all we’ve been through.”

“I do not doubt, my procyonid friend. I offer reflection in a journey that you are determined has no mirages. We have made it this far thanks to your careful guidance. Do not let your obsession, whatever it may be, endanger this expedition.”

The raccoon and the man-camel sat in silence as the sun continued to rise and split the salt-spangled sky into fragments.

“ Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot to ask you.” Bacter’s voice now was lighter, scented with curiosity “ Will you be joining us for the meal mid-Harvest Dawn?”

“ I don’t see the point of such a event in the first place.”

“ Perhaps, you don’t but the true Kin, mutant, plant and fungi you have brought hundreds of parasangs over to Qud would appreciate it.” Bacter groused. " I've made dietary preparations for Efere and Starfield already."

“ Of course you have. Useless…” Alu pinched the bridge of his beady nose in frustration“ Wasting time when we could be half-way to the Stilt by now. Can’t we just use our rations and make off before the waxing salt sun?”

Sighing, Bacter instead took a different tact by appealing to Alu’s inflated sense of logic.

“ It is not a matter of nutrition. It is a matter of morale. To merely eat rations is to avoid starvation. To eat together is to celebrate, to feed the soul as if it were. It would do good if you were there with them.”

Alu sat unmoving, contemplating Bacter’s words. He made several tired nods, shoulders sagging in surrender.

“ You’ve made your point. Now, leave me be.”

“ Very well.” Instead of leaving, Alu watched as Bacter produced a thermal pot from under his robe with a smug grin. “ I’ll very gladly help myself to this tasselwort tea in my tent.”

That caught his attention. Alu’s ears perked up, watching with rapt attention as a hydrolytic cell was inserted into a small port. The bottom of the heating element began to turn a shade of red, boiling water whistling from underneath the cap. The raccoon began waving his stubby paws over for a cup.

Bacter tried best to hide his smile as he poured two cups for both of them. Perhaps, his friend wasn’t lost to the chrome completely.

---

18th of Uulu Ut, 3 A.R, Harvest Dawn

Alu whistled loudly and waited.

Maybe, that time was too quiet.

Alu gave off the same rattling whistle again to release the anxiety bottled up in him. One high-pitched and two low-pitched. Just as he had memorised. It was the expedition’s code signal for group meals or urgent meetings. Alu did it once, waiting on the balls of his feet as he looked out into Hagashem for the members of his expedition.

“ You needn’t try and wake them up, Alu.” Bacter spoke off to the side, nursing a cup of water. “ I already informed them of the meal beforehand and where to meet.”

“ Well, I’ll know who to blame if they don’t show up on time.” Alu peered behind, trying to ignore the grumble of his stomach and the temptation to dive headfirst into what laid on the table.

The brinewood table was caked in a stack of dishes and plates of a hundred feasts. There were charred spits which speared through greasy char-broiled chunks of meat, jugs of congealed honey and sugar water along with numerous entrees which, in accordance with Hagashem’s ischaari origins, had copious amounts of salt. Tureens of poached glowpads surrounded an absolutely monstrous beast whose yawning jaw was filled with chopped dread roots and julienned starapples. Bacter took a slice of milled vinewafer, dipping it into a saucer of sap before biting off the soggy end.

The Harvest Dawn burnt above brightly, casting its white rays on the pale expanse of the Moghra'yi. The geyser pools of Hagashem glittered in its radiance. Alu watched as a hooded villager of Hagashem hooked bait on their line and threw it deep into the cave water. The Harvest Dawn was known as a time of good fortune, the gentler twin of the more temperamental Hindsun by the Ekuemekiyyen Sun Priests. Issachari nomads claimed their moisture nets were coated with enough drams for a week. Watervine farmers believed their stalks were more turgid and riper during this period. The beetlebums, dew-wings, glowcrows and other pests lied asleep and with the sun out, the conditions were perfect for all manner of labor. Superstition soon led into habits and then, tradition. down via cultural osmosis into the consciousness of humble watervine farmers and ranchers everywhere.

“ What a feast indeed.” A voice rumbled to Alu’s left. A giant shadow swept over him. “ You’ll have to thank our best hunters for that big one over there. It took over two hundred and twelve slugs and that was before we had to drag the bloody thing out of the Yonth.”

Alu coughed in surprise and glanced quickly at Bacter who simply smiled and turned the other way around. Damn the dromad. He was not one for diplomacy and negotations. He usually left that up to Bacter. Alu stood up straight and then, bowed respectfully to the towering man in front of him.

“ Elder Chokes-By-Quicksalt, you honour us with this salt you have procured. We apologise once again for the disturbance we have brought to your village.”

Chokes-By-Quicksalt did not reply at first. Standing 7 foot tall, his sun-burnt complexion was a token of parting from his life as a Isachaari. He still held onto the trappings of his former culture like a snake held onto its shed skin. His frayed crimson sun veil shadowed his head to the point where only his grinning mouth was visible, a crusted beard of grey salt surrounding it. Fading scars of salt burns pocketed his meaty arms and his eyes were scowled, slit shut as if the sun was eternally cursed to shine in his eyes. For a while, he didn't say anything before slapping Alu’s back, laughing boisterously.

“ Nonsense! You have brought more trade to Hagashem than we have seen in the last few moons with your salt-weathered companions. We offer you thanks, wayfarer, and our water if you have need of it.”

“ Your kind hospitality is enough. Live and drink, Chokes-By- Quicksalt.”

“ Live and drink, raccoon Alu.” The elder tipped his hood before leaving the scene.Alu rubbed his aching shoulder which had been almost dislocated by the force of the elder’s blow. He then took a look at the Spindle, which glinted an eerie sliver in the shine of the Harvest Dawn, its tip blocked by the murky blue of Qud’s skies.

Hopefully, the rest of the expedition would arrive soon.

Qud’s chrome would be his, no matter what.

KARSTS - A World Beyond Eons

Kly'tar

//YOUR NAME

---

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Race: Bipedial Reptilian (Lizardfolk)

Genotype (Unavailable for Robots): Mutant (Genetic Mutation)

Morphotype (Only Available for Mutant): Chimera

Expedition Position: Guide

//YOUR SOUL

---

PERSONAL GOAL:

"Kly'tar trying to learn new way of life in big wide world! Kly'tar wish to become artificer and build great machines!"

LIKES:

"Kly'tar like people who nice to Kly'tar as well as tasty fish!"

• Technology & Intricate Machinery.
• Fresh Fish.
• Learning New Things.
• Making Friends.

DISLIKES:

"Snapjaw bad and Goatmen worse but Kly'tar fears scary genetic purists most of all!"

• Snapjaws & Goatmen.
• The Putus Templar

QUIRKS:

"Kly'tar is quirky so Kly'tar interesting."

• Kly'tar refers to himself in the third-person perspective instead of saying "I'm" or "Me", so he calls himself by his name when speaking.

//YOUR PAST

---

"Kly'tar lived near Joppa with other Lizardfolk. Snapjaws came and kill many of Kly'tar's people so all Lizardfolk decide it best to find new homes. Kly'tar wanted to find Grit Gate where Kly'tar hear bear-men know machine knowledge so Kly'tar went but got lost. Kly'tar realize world have more knowledge to give then Grit Gate so Kly'tar going to travel world and learn as much knowledge that Qud can give to smart Lizardfolk like Kly'tar! World comes first then Kly'tar see if go to Grit Gate.

//YOUR PERSON

---

ATTRIBUTES:

• Survival Skills: Living off the land since birth Kly'tar knows plenty of survival skills.
• Hunter: Kly'tar has hunted with a spear in hand since he came of age, and wields them with skill.
• Tinkerer: For years Kly'tar has learnt new ways to tinker with machinery in minor ways.

CYBERNETICS (Only For True Kin): N/A

Mutations (Only for Mutants):

• Infravision: Kly'tar can see into the infrared spectrum at a short range.
• Tough Hide: Kly'tar's hide is tough enough to lessen the impact of punches, as well as reduce the impact of blunt weapons and cutting weapons.
• Heightened Senses: A highly developed sense of smell and taste, but poor perceptibility.
• ZFHX2 Gene: This genetic mutation alters part of the genes protein sequence, causing Kly'tar to have unusually low sensitivity to pain.
• AS3MT Gene:

Equipment: (Self-Explanatory)