Post by uldrid on Aug 2, 2011 21:58:28 GMT -5
Name: Galahad Aldrinor
Species: Shi'ido
Age: 37 years old...thus far
Sex: Male
Height/Weight: 5'11"/159 lbs.
Appearance:
(Uncloaked with Beskar Katana in hand)
Cloaked
Durasteel Dirk
Durasteel Shield
Mordekaiser (except the mace) - Customized 3DO protocol/service droid
- sounds like this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6ZO0zY0aos
- Increased plating for durability and strength
- Programmed to be an assistant
Personality:
Character Rank: None
Special Skills:
Shape-Shifting (innate)
Lengthened Life Span (innate)
Judo (Proficient)
Taekwondoe (Proficient)
Wing Chun (Proficient)
Ranged Weapons (Proficient)
Melee Weapons (Proficient)
Blind-Combat (Proficient)
Force Sensitive (Heightened Reflexes/No Force)
Shield (Proficient)
Knowledge:
Biology
Mathematics
Neurology
Physics
Blacksmithing
Weaponcrafting
Physical Attributes
Strength: 55
Speed: 65
Intelligence: 60
Alignment: 75
Bio:
Dark of the Night
The story of Galahad starts even before he was born, with the past of his parents. Glorian and Thoria Aldrinor were Shi'ido who lived on their home world of Lao-mon. From the very beginning, they were a thriving couple, famous, rich, and powerful, being one of the greater international merchants of their sector. Both were of honest decent and were modestly disciplined in politics. Living in a nice dome shaped mansion near the sea, the two were a couple of great capital wealth. Still, even the wealthy had their issues, for Thoria was having trouble conceiving a child. Neither of the two had any children since they were trying for their first one and, for a full decade, they tried, but each time signs appeared, something happened that denied them their child. The first case was when Thoria became ill, and that only induced the giving process before anything was able to be set in stone. Still, the couple tried again, and nothing happened for another three years. Every time the couple went to check out what was withholding them from gaining a child of their own, doctors from all over the planet could not make head or tails of it.
The only information the specialists had to go off of was that every time the gestation processes began, Thoria would become violently sick and the child would be lost. For six years this would continue, and no one knew why, until, one afternoon, a white haired man with a medical suit came to the door.
Knock, Knock, Knock
The couple, looking at each other with curious looks, opened the front door to greet the stranger. Arkinhold, as the man declared himself to be, was looking for volunteers that might help him on finding a cure for whatever was ailing many of the woman of the Shi'ido race. Supposedly, there were others like Thoria who had the same gestational issues as her and, the organization that Arkinhold belonged to wanted to help them. So, after a lengthy talk and many forms to fill out, Glorian and Thoria agreed to give Arkinhold whatever knowledge and assistance he might need. Although, when Glorian started packing up his own belongings so at to prepare for the trip, the scientist plainly said that Thoria must go alone. With great stress and worry, the husband looked over at his wife, and knew instantly from the look she gave him that she wanted this, anything to give them a child. So, with great reluctance and after gathering whatever was needed, Thoria was led away from home to whatever fate she was given.
When Thoria was taken off into the distance, Glorian knew he had already made a mistake, but it was done, and he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. He knew he owed this much to his wife and he also felt like part of the reason they didn't have a child already. What if there was something wrong with him? They had never checked his side out. But that was past, and he had to deal with it. So, for three years, three grueling lifetimes, he waited.
And three years later, she came back. But she wasn't alone.
Black metal tanks came up in the middle of the night to the steps of the mansion by the sea, and Glorian woke up in a terror. Grabbing the blaster from the compartment and making sure the droids and security system were active, the husband turned on the front lights and then looked at the security screens.
There is wife was, standing right in front of the tanks, but there was something in her arms, and she looked...different...still, she was there, and that's all he wanted at that moment. So, after rushing out the front door with droids on both sides and leaping down the cobblestone steps, Glorian went to embrace his wife.
Something else happened though, something he didn't quite expect. The droids on his porch instantly pulled up their weapons, focused fire upon the man, and killed him on the spot. The woman who stood before him did nothing, in fact, she was already dead. Sith alchemy was the only thing holding her up at that moment. Another second or two passed and Arkinhold walked out of one of the tanks. Taking a few pases towards the body of the dead Shi'ido, the mysterious man knelt down, looked up to Thoria, and asked her why she had let him die.
The only response that she gave to him was silence.
And that's the only response he wanted, for this man was of sith origin, and cared nothing for the world that had forsaken him. After signaling for the tanks to roll out, Arkinhold carried Thoria and the living child back into one of the tanks, and rode back off into secrecy.
Training the Prodigy
Six years would pass while the child was in his safekeeping, or rather, lack there of, for he only kept the boy in a chamber where others of his age and health were being kept. Hooked up to medical cords and sleeping in an induced coma, these children would not know there parents, or there own past for that matter. Pods lined the walls of the chamber where each individual was being held, and none of them awoke for a while...except for one.
Galahad's life began when he first came to consciousness and tried to escape from his prison. As soon as he ripped himself from the cables and wires, officials systematically walked into the room and after capturing him and stunning him into silence, they carried him out, into another chamber, but this one was dark.
Darker than the very night, the blue haired boy tried shape shifting into whatever cracks he could find, but there were none. He tried pounding at the door when he eventually found it, but it would not open. After giving up and huddling in the corner, a week would pass before he made contact with a sentient being. Food and water would be given to him on a tray through an opening in the door, upon which he would try to scrape and claw his way through with no avail, so, he ravaged what little food and liquid the officials provided.
Once that week had passed and the boy began to calm down, a woman stepped inside. Something about her told Gal that this woman was his mother, but when he touched her skin, and just by looking at her, he got an instant feeling of cold and despair, as if something was keeping this body going, but the person within could not be let out. So, Gal went straight back to his corner and would not interact with the woman, no matter what she did. Eventually, he would get used to her presence, but still would not trust her. Inevitably, Thoria's body got him out of the room through use of force, gave him clothes to put on, upon which he would refuse to accept. Officials would then force them upon him, and he would be carried to whatever next fate decided. Down long corridors and stone walkways the boy was led up to a black metal door with runes all over it.
The door opened with any mechanism or force applied, and after Gal was startled, he was then thrust into the room, upon which the man of his dreams, white hair and medical suit, appeared before him. He had been having dreams of this man while in his pod. The child knew not who this adult was nor anything else, but, Gal did recognize this man, and so, stood in line respectfully. His instincts were telling him to run away, but knowledge that was given to him through other means of which he did not know, told him that this man was not to be feared. Rather Arkinhold was to be accepted.
After walking up to the boy, Arkinhold mentioned one word.
"Galahad"
And that is quite simply how the boy got his name. Once Gal understood that Arkinhold was referring to himself, the boy committed an action he knew very well, did not understand where it came from. Saluting the man before him, Gal noticed that Arkinhold was pleased, and felt pleased himself. The scientist then, walked over to a large chest on the side of the room, took out two long wooden poles, tossed one to Gal, and after Gal held the practice sword firmly, Arkinhold swung.
Galahad, not sure what was going on, brought up his sword to parry. The two poles solidly connected and Gal saw Ark smile. Preparing himself in advance, Gal saw Ark swing at him, dodged to the side, and then struck at the man's legs. Another grin. And so, this would continue for hours. The boy did not ask for food or drink for something within his head told him not to. Again, more knowledge he had but did not understand. Arkinhold only kept to saying commands or small phrases so that Gal's internal memory would pick up on what was being said.
Such activities like this would continue for a few months, wielding poles at different lengths so as to make semblance of a spear or shorter poles for daggers. Also, Arkinhold taught Galahad the art of meditation, so as to be able to concentrate in battle. Once a half a year had passed, Arkinhold brought out a bow of ebony, a quiver of arrows, and handed them to the boy. The language of common was coming quite easily to the boy now, so Arkinhold began use more diverse words so as to demonstrate the techniques of Bow use. Pressing a button on his desk, a wall on the east side of the room opened up to reveal a shooting range with targets of varied distances and shapes. Beginning with the closest one, Arkinhold proceeded to train Galahad in the art of ranged weaponry. Another half a year would pass until the boy was proficient in the weaponry. At this point, Arkinhold put all of the weapons away, closed up the wall, and then proceeded to layer his hands in thin cloth as well as the boy's. For two years, the boy and his master would train in the arts of Wing Chun for punching techniques, Taekwondoe for kicking techniques, and then Judo for grappling techniques. At the end of this training, Galahad had average skills in all of his abilities.
Until now, Galahad's bedroom had been that dark room every night. When he was not tired, he would meditate just as his master had taught him from the beginning. When he finally felt tired though, Galahad would have dreams of combat, dreams of great buildings of materials that gleamed from the bright light up high. He dreamed of a day when the sanctuary around him would collapse, though he would not wake up even once in terror. The reason for this was because Arkinhold explained the meaning of these dreams. Messages sent from a power yet to be understood by a small child. Meanwhile, wanting to understand this, Galahad was also experiencing a more heightened sense of combat. It seemed that during his training, he knew exactly what was going to come next, how he should defend against it, or how to respond to it. Galahad, knowing that his master would give him some cryptic message again, kept this little fact to himself.
The Constructing of a Weapon
As the boy grew more and more in his abilities over the years, he started to want to express his own style of combat, so that he could make his master proud. In order to do this, Galahad, one day, asked Arkinhold if the master would mind taking out the long slightly curved pole from the chest. After the scientist had done so, Galahad started to inspect it further than he'd done with all of the other instruments of war. Smooth handle, long blade, held with two hands or one if strong enough. Feeling pleasure at his own familiarity with the weapon, Galahad then asked Arkinhold if the student could make a real weapon of this model. Arkinhold, with a surprised look and a grin, told Galahad to lay down the weapon and come with him. Pressing another button on his desk, the west wall opened up to show a long tunnel with many doors. Wooden ones, arched ones, even ones made of jelly so thick you couldn't even see through it. Yet, there was one door that Arkinhold stopped at, made of delicate designs where bronze was laced with gold and silver intertwined with copper. Upon opening the granite handle, an engineer's room was discovered. Inside all manner of mechanical and instrumental tools of metalworking stood either being used or sitting in wait. Vents in the ceiling opened up to reveal light shining through and clouds of steam rushing out.
Arkinhold instantly marched forward and walked a few paces past saws and chisels and hammers, to where an anvil and a forge sat. Stacks of metals lined the walls in pillars as different in color and type as the very tools in the room. Also, gadgets and generators of energies Galahad did not know were lain upon a iron counter on the other side of the stacks. Arkinhold then told the boy that if he wanted to create a weapon, he had better learn all of the technology needed to do so, and not just counting numbers and animals. Galahad would have to learn of the biology of creatures and how to kill them, what weapon worked best against others, and how to tactically take down his opponent. Otherwise, Galahad would make a weapon he did not know how to use properly.
To start with, Galahad asked for books on biology, mathematics, and physics. His first task was to learn of all of the creatures known to the common galaxy. Beasts to rodents, reptiles to fish, anything that might have been considered living, he read about, and for years he would do this. Sentient beings were no exception. Aquatic, mammalian, scavengers, predators, anything that held life within its frame or bones or exoskeleton was inserted into his mind.
Afterwards, at the age of twelve, Galahad focused his energy upon mathematics so as to start a building block for the rest of his learning. Four full years were spent going through basic math, Geometry, Algebra, Trigonometry, Mathematical Biology, Mathematical Chemistry, and finishing with Mathematical Physics. Gal's focus came from purely from a need to please Arkinhold. It wasn't a want, or a wish, it was as great a need as breathing air. And through his knowledge of biology, he still couldn't explain it, and still put it off hoping that the answer might one day come from a more thorough search. As more and more months of searching was done though, Galahad became more and more perplexed as to why this was, and eventually talked with his master at the age of 14.
Arkinhold was sitting in his office during this event, as he usually was, going through papers of which Gal had no clue. Once the question was delivered, Arkinhold stopped all of his actions, calmly looked over at the boy, and explained that he was programmed to. Galahad was simply a tool and nothing more. What else must he do other than serve his master? A sudden wave of confusion ran through his head as Galahad tried to deal with the possibility that his choices were not his own. That at one point, he could have done as he so wished.
Knowing that something had to be done, and with great self-control and discipline, Galahad kept his behavior the same as he had done before the inquiry was inquired upon, searching for more knowledge on mathematics, as well as neural sciences to try and deal with whatever was messing with his head. Feeling inwardly angered at such a violation of his own being, Galahad also worked on his sneaky and stealth skills starting with little things like, walking toe heel rather than heel toe lessened the amount of sound one made when walking. Also, the boots that Galahad wore made too much noise, so he took them off so as to strengthen his own feet and build up calluses. The only problem was that there was no rough floor to walk upon, so, going to Arkinhold, and after explaining his theory and thoughts on stealth and physical adaptation, Arkinhold had his assistants put down flooring in Galahad's room that resembled a smoother degree of sand paper, just to start off with.
As was to be expected, at the age of 15, Galahad mastered the schools of biology, mathematics, and neurology, the last one not being known by his master. Upon his success, Galahad worked towards Physics and anything based off of creating weapons. Learning about gravity, planetary relationships, galactic phenomena and many other subjects actually inspired Galahad to pour more of his mindset into that. Particles, matter, black holes, atoms, neurons, quasars, anything dealing with the laws of reality. In fact, such was his hunger for this area of knowledge that he even set aside his own weaponcrafting research to learn all that he could. Quantum Theory, String Theory, The Speed of Light, everything that was related to the laws of physics, Galahad eventually heard about it and absorbed it like a sponge.
In order to compensate for the darkness of his room, he asked Arkinhold for some lighting. As was the norm, Arkinhold gave into Galahad's wishes and attached two lamps on each wall of Gal's room. As a result, Galahad would sit for hours and at other times, days, reading the books of the universe. Sleep was only gained when he couldn't hold himself up any longer. Upon his fatigue induced rest, Galahad would have dreams involving others like him, trapped within huge green cylinders where tubes and a mask would be attached to each and every one of him. Such dreams became more and more intense as his days of youth passed by. Still being in the body of a child limited him in his current capabilities. As a result, Galahad knew that if he ever wanted to get out of Arkinhold's life, he had to take out the man himself. But that would have to wait a few more decades. Patience was what he needed, and patience was something he had yet to understand.
For years he would continue doing research, anything and everything that might give him an edge. When he came to the age of 21 and his brain was wearing on him, Galahad would go back to his room and meditate. Meditation only gave him a slight relief from the day to day life he had, and at one point, boredom would set in. Once it did though, the boy knew of a couple things to pass the time. Going back into the library once more, Galahad looked for metals and alloys of any sort that might be of interest to him. Durasteel was too heavy for a youngling and Cortosis Weave made the blade brittle. He wanted a metal that was durable, light, and sharp. Looking further in the archives, the young scholar looked up a metal called Beskar, or Mandalorian Iron. Looking in stock for any such metal, the boy was unsuccessful, and went to the one man would would help him.
Arkinhold's reply was not to his liking though, since the man was very busy with some current matters that were bothering him. In his place, though, Arkinhold gave orders to six of his assistants to go out and by any means gain the Beskar required for what the boy was making as well as the information on how to work it and forge it into products of great potential. Months of impatience passed, each day being a single decade, as he tried to outdo the boredom that was inflicted upon his mind. In the mean time, Galahad knew exactly what he needed to do. Looking up models and schematics of swords in the past, the boy came upon the samurai sword which was very much akin to the pole he had the greatest affinity with. That blade, and a dirk, which allowed for combat in close quarters. So, through typing out the dimensions of each sword onto the datapad he had linked up to the machines in the room, those same machines went into action creating casings of metal that resembled the dimensional shape of each sword.
Knowing that the casings would sit for another long time while Arkinhold's goons were out looking for Baskar, Galahad decided that he wanted a shield. How else was he going to get protection in the middle of combat? Of course, he could make a suit of armor and what not, but he was still too small and weak to use it, so, he decided to wait. That would be for a later time. Still, a shield seemed kinda useful, and though he couldn't use a real sword yet, he might as well learn how to use a shield for when he could use one.
Arkinhold once more helped him learn the use of the shield and half way through Galahad's training, the Beskar was delivered, only two assistants returned the boy noted. In any case, Arkinhold put him to a challenge. If Galahad could withstand 100 blows from his master, using a smoothed wooden board, Arkinhold would bestow upon him a shield of greater worth than any the boy could make himself.
Quickly, the boy utilized the technique of glancing so that his master's weapon would go down to the side and reduce the amount of impact taken. Still, after a good dozen or so blows were deflected, his arm grew tired and eventually, he had to hold the shield with both arms. From there, another dozen blows were taken, and his legs were starting to weaken from the strain of simply holding himself up. Finally, it got to the point where Galahad huddled in a corner from pure fright while his master beat at the plank until it split in half. Screaming in fear, Galahad dropped both planks just as the man brought his pole for a final strike, and dove between his legs. Wood hit concrete and foot steps could be heard going down a hall way out of the office.
Huddling in his room from fright, the boy knew he had to do something if he ever wished to gain that shield, let alone, if his master would take him up on the challenge again. At this moment, his body had grown slowly but surely and he had been getting taller, which was a sure sign of aging, but he wanted to get older faster, so that he could take on his master for that shield. So absorbed was the boy and the idea of an awesome shield, that he went back into the engineer's room, had Mordekaiser craft a wooden shield for him, and then practiced his skills with the shield. While going through the movements were useful, the boy needed something to actually strike at him. Still, the boy was too young to defend himself against an enemy of even decent strength, and Galahad came to the conclusion that he had to wait still more years.
Creating a Friend
To pass yet more time for age to finally catch up with him, Galahad, seeing as Mordekaiser was pretty much his friend to play around with and such, decided to improve him as such. Looking at the many metals and alloys to mess around with, Galahad knew nothing of droid customization, so back to the archives he went. Schematics of basic droids and their like were learned in a half a year, while more complex ones took a bit longer. At the age of 32, Galahad finally came upon the knowledge needed to mess around with his droid's appearance.
To start with, straight out of the manuals, Galahad grabbed one of the voice boxes from where the generators and stuff were piled. After toying with it for a bit, he finally got it to sound what he wanted his beast of a droid to sound like, then inserted it into the machinery. From there, the blue haired wonder decided to build Morde a new set of armor, but seeing as he was too weak to create it, he had the droid do it himself. Thickened plating was constructed from the machines in the engineers' chamber while Mordekaiser would sand out the edges and spikes. Realizing suddenly, that the droid couldn't possibly carry that much weight on his frame, Galahad went straight to work designing broader and longer limbs and parts. Once Mordekaiser's skeleton was crafted from the machines, the boy noticed that the muscular system of his droid wouldn't be able to move the parts either, so on to musculature he went. Books and holocrons were sifted through in order to find schematics and designs on internal parts of droids. Weeks more would be spent on finding the specific information he needed, and even then, designs would fail over and over again as he tried to piece the puzzle together. Eventually, he got the flaws out of Morde's system, so the he could properly move around with his new suit of plating.
At the age of 36, Galahad had finally finished with his construction upon Mordekaiser, and wanted to begin upon his weapons. As he was given an individual datapad from the assistants documenting all of the information he needed to forge Beskar into weaponry, the boy began working on the dirk first, since he had to have some kind of weapon to wield. Looking at his small supply of Beskar, Galahad put the metal into the forge and heated it up in a ceramic pot. Upon making sure that all of the metal was completely melted, the boy had Morde pour the liquid into a plank shaped mold. The rest of the metal was then poured into a single bar mold for later use. After inputting the information from the datapad into Morde's internal memory bank, Galahad had Morde smith the metal plank into the shape of a katana. When the blade were cooled and had taken its unique form, Morde then started to craft a hilt for the weapon. After taking the beskar bar, he heated it up, split the thing in half, and then began smithing. Calculated precision was better than any skill Galahad could muster, and while the boy was dancing in glee around his friend's success, the handle was finished.
While this was going on, the boy knew that a katana would be too heavy for him to wield at this time, so he had Morde take out some durasteel sheets, and forge a durasteel dirk in the mean time.
Even after so many years of defeat by his master, the boy would not talk to him, in fear of the master himself, so, when it came time to find a suitable grip for swords, Galahad looked around the engineers' room once more and found piles of leather in a corner. Not sure which one was better than the other, Galahad chose to pick his favorite color blue, and used said leather for the hilt. Once the blades were attached to the hilt guards and hilts, scabbards had to be made. Looking back into the archives, scabbards were found to be easily made, as well as belts or straps to hook them to, and so, Galahad worked tirelessly on fitting himself with blue scabbards, a crimson belt, and a crimson leg strap to match. Realizing soon enough that the katana actually interfered with his leg movement, the boy then placed the belt around his torso, tight enough so that it wouldn't move, and for yet more years, it would stay there.
Finally getting tired of looking up information in the archives, the young student decided to put his droid's head to good use. Since Morde's upgrade, he had more space in the helmet which was currently filled with nothing but gears, wires, and a small brain compared to the rest of the body. After gathering datapads from all over the library was well as a book scanner, the blue haired wonder took out Morde's internal brain after deactivating him and then began hardwiring a new one. By use of wires from the storage area, increased the processing speed, memory capacity, and overall capabilities of the brain by direct reference through the pads and books. Once this was done, he then took connection cables and began uploading more information into Morde so that he wouldn't have to go back to the library and archives as often. Galahad also modded Morde's personality to more of a gentlemanly-steward type with a humerous dark side.
Having taken his time on pretty much everything, and wanting to lengthen out every process done in order to take up as much time possible as he could, Galahad made the whole thing take up half a year, but still, that wasn't enough to sat his boredom. At one point, he just blew up, and decided he wanted out.
The Gift of Defense
Impatience had finally gotten to the young lad, making him go to Arkinhold to take up that challenge once more. Seeing as it was many years since they last talked to each other, Galahad only just noticed a stressed and weary look upon the man. Wrinkles and bags of sleepless nights seemed to wear upon the doctor. Still, Arkinhold had not forgotten about the shield and had neither forgotten about the challenge. Once more handing a wooden board to his acolyte and brandishing a pole for himself, the two began combat.
Through the years of labor constructing the weapons in areas that Mordekaiser need not help him, Galahad's bones had hardened and his muscles, although he was young, were toned enough for this. After a dozen blows, the boy was still deflecting them tirelessly. Another dozen blows were pounded at the youngling, and still yet, the boy held firm. Only when Arkinhold got to the 40th swing did he really unleash upon the boy, and that's when everything became not so great for the boy. From some unseen strength, the scientist created cracks in one single smash, and Galahad knew that if the board did not hold up, he would have nothing left to block with...or did he?
Looking back over to the chest while dodging and deflecting with what little of a plank he had left, Galahad had an idea. Jumping once more through his master's legs, he lept towards the chest, and just as his own shield finally shattered and his left arm went out, through sheer concentration and adrenaline, Galahad took one of the longer poles and brought it up at an angle just in time to deflect another blow. After that one shattered, Galahad reached for another pole, not as long as the original one, but still, decent in length, and dodged to the side, just as his master's came down with a loud crack upon the stone floor. Four more swings were to be withstood, and Gal ran out of options when his own pole broke to pieces. Looking at his master's desk lamp, Galahad lept towards it, brought it up, and deflected yet another blow, albeit the pole had made quite a dent, or rather, warp in the metal that the surface came within only a few millimeters of the boys nose.
Another blow was deflected as the glass from the lamp shattered in a spray away from the boy. Tossing the lamp to the side, and realizing that he had no more objects to block with, the final strike was taken by the blocking of his own arms. As they took the full force of Arkinhold's strike, both bone structures were shattered along the full length of each forearm. Glancing down at his pupil who was gasping and crying on the floor before him, Arkinhold pressed yet another button upon his desk, and out from the front of it, opened a secret compartment.
"You may not be listening because of the pain in your arms, but none the less, this shield will help you in the near future. Keep it safe and guarded for if you ever lose it, you will no longer be worthy of it any longer."
After ordering his assistants once more to take care of the boy, Morde followed Galahad out of the room to the Medical facility, where for another year, with basic treatment, the boy's arms healed into place once more.
Night's Return
Once Galahad had gotten his full arm strength over the course of two years, he began to really think about how he was going to get out of this place he was in. His dreams kept getting progressively more bizarre, outlandish, and quite literally showed him what the outside world was like, and being kept in a giant concrete box didn't help much. Taking advantage of the time he had alone with Mordekaiser, the boy and his droid decided to finally get away from the usual path they were kept to in the halls, and explore a bit. The reason as for why he hadn't done this before was because of his fear that he might get in trouble. This day though, that wasn't going to affect him.
Corridors were mapped out in Morde's internal memory bank while doors were kept shut so as not to bring about attention. In some cases, an individual room didn't have a door, and instead opened up right into something akin to a forest within a glass dome. Other worldy sounds were heard within the trees and sunlight could be seen above. Such was the beauty of the sun that Galahad stood there for longer than an eternity looking at the rays passing through the ceiling. Mordekaiser wanting to explore some more of this place nudged Galahad back to reality and so, onward they continued.
Flying up above, growls from the shadows, creatures of all sorts seemed to infest this green globe, all the while, Galahad ordered his droid to take mental pictures of each of them if ever he could. As they ventured onward into the foliage, their excitement grew and grew as the two dared to go outside of the world they had so longed to get out of. For hours they would wonder like this, until finally one of them realized they were lost. Morde, being the smarter of the two, who had focused upon his visual imagery rather than map taking, began making analysis about directions and where they should go. Also, something Galahad noticed was that it was beginning to get dark and the creatures were becoming closer while quieter. Knowing they had to get out of their fast, the droid and his buddy trudged their way through the brush, hoping they would escape whatever place they were in.
Species: Shi'ido
Age: 37 years old...thus far
Sex: Male
Height/Weight: 5'11"/159 lbs.
Appearance:
(Uncloaked with Beskar Katana in hand)
Cloaked
Durasteel Dirk
Durasteel Shield
Mordekaiser (except the mace) - Customized 3DO protocol/service droid
- sounds like this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6ZO0zY0aos
- Increased plating for durability and strength
- Programmed to be an assistant
Personality:
Character Rank: None
Special Skills:
Shape-Shifting (innate)
Lengthened Life Span (innate)
Judo (Proficient)
Taekwondoe (Proficient)
Wing Chun (Proficient)
Ranged Weapons (Proficient)
Melee Weapons (Proficient)
Blind-Combat (Proficient)
Force Sensitive (Heightened Reflexes/No Force)
Shield (Proficient)
Knowledge:
Biology
Mathematics
Neurology
Physics
Blacksmithing
Weaponcrafting
Physical Attributes
Strength: 55
Speed: 65
Intelligence: 60
Alignment: 75
Bio:
Dark of the Night
The story of Galahad starts even before he was born, with the past of his parents. Glorian and Thoria Aldrinor were Shi'ido who lived on their home world of Lao-mon. From the very beginning, they were a thriving couple, famous, rich, and powerful, being one of the greater international merchants of their sector. Both were of honest decent and were modestly disciplined in politics. Living in a nice dome shaped mansion near the sea, the two were a couple of great capital wealth. Still, even the wealthy had their issues, for Thoria was having trouble conceiving a child. Neither of the two had any children since they were trying for their first one and, for a full decade, they tried, but each time signs appeared, something happened that denied them their child. The first case was when Thoria became ill, and that only induced the giving process before anything was able to be set in stone. Still, the couple tried again, and nothing happened for another three years. Every time the couple went to check out what was withholding them from gaining a child of their own, doctors from all over the planet could not make head or tails of it.
The only information the specialists had to go off of was that every time the gestation processes began, Thoria would become violently sick and the child would be lost. For six years this would continue, and no one knew why, until, one afternoon, a white haired man with a medical suit came to the door.
Knock, Knock, Knock
The couple, looking at each other with curious looks, opened the front door to greet the stranger. Arkinhold, as the man declared himself to be, was looking for volunteers that might help him on finding a cure for whatever was ailing many of the woman of the Shi'ido race. Supposedly, there were others like Thoria who had the same gestational issues as her and, the organization that Arkinhold belonged to wanted to help them. So, after a lengthy talk and many forms to fill out, Glorian and Thoria agreed to give Arkinhold whatever knowledge and assistance he might need. Although, when Glorian started packing up his own belongings so at to prepare for the trip, the scientist plainly said that Thoria must go alone. With great stress and worry, the husband looked over at his wife, and knew instantly from the look she gave him that she wanted this, anything to give them a child. So, with great reluctance and after gathering whatever was needed, Thoria was led away from home to whatever fate she was given.
When Thoria was taken off into the distance, Glorian knew he had already made a mistake, but it was done, and he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. He knew he owed this much to his wife and he also felt like part of the reason they didn't have a child already. What if there was something wrong with him? They had never checked his side out. But that was past, and he had to deal with it. So, for three years, three grueling lifetimes, he waited.
And three years later, she came back. But she wasn't alone.
Black metal tanks came up in the middle of the night to the steps of the mansion by the sea, and Glorian woke up in a terror. Grabbing the blaster from the compartment and making sure the droids and security system were active, the husband turned on the front lights and then looked at the security screens.
There is wife was, standing right in front of the tanks, but there was something in her arms, and she looked...different...still, she was there, and that's all he wanted at that moment. So, after rushing out the front door with droids on both sides and leaping down the cobblestone steps, Glorian went to embrace his wife.
Something else happened though, something he didn't quite expect. The droids on his porch instantly pulled up their weapons, focused fire upon the man, and killed him on the spot. The woman who stood before him did nothing, in fact, she was already dead. Sith alchemy was the only thing holding her up at that moment. Another second or two passed and Arkinhold walked out of one of the tanks. Taking a few pases towards the body of the dead Shi'ido, the mysterious man knelt down, looked up to Thoria, and asked her why she had let him die.
The only response that she gave to him was silence.
And that's the only response he wanted, for this man was of sith origin, and cared nothing for the world that had forsaken him. After signaling for the tanks to roll out, Arkinhold carried Thoria and the living child back into one of the tanks, and rode back off into secrecy.
Training the Prodigy
Six years would pass while the child was in his safekeeping, or rather, lack there of, for he only kept the boy in a chamber where others of his age and health were being kept. Hooked up to medical cords and sleeping in an induced coma, these children would not know there parents, or there own past for that matter. Pods lined the walls of the chamber where each individual was being held, and none of them awoke for a while...except for one.
Galahad's life began when he first came to consciousness and tried to escape from his prison. As soon as he ripped himself from the cables and wires, officials systematically walked into the room and after capturing him and stunning him into silence, they carried him out, into another chamber, but this one was dark.
Darker than the very night, the blue haired boy tried shape shifting into whatever cracks he could find, but there were none. He tried pounding at the door when he eventually found it, but it would not open. After giving up and huddling in the corner, a week would pass before he made contact with a sentient being. Food and water would be given to him on a tray through an opening in the door, upon which he would try to scrape and claw his way through with no avail, so, he ravaged what little food and liquid the officials provided.
Once that week had passed and the boy began to calm down, a woman stepped inside. Something about her told Gal that this woman was his mother, but when he touched her skin, and just by looking at her, he got an instant feeling of cold and despair, as if something was keeping this body going, but the person within could not be let out. So, Gal went straight back to his corner and would not interact with the woman, no matter what she did. Eventually, he would get used to her presence, but still would not trust her. Inevitably, Thoria's body got him out of the room through use of force, gave him clothes to put on, upon which he would refuse to accept. Officials would then force them upon him, and he would be carried to whatever next fate decided. Down long corridors and stone walkways the boy was led up to a black metal door with runes all over it.
The door opened with any mechanism or force applied, and after Gal was startled, he was then thrust into the room, upon which the man of his dreams, white hair and medical suit, appeared before him. He had been having dreams of this man while in his pod. The child knew not who this adult was nor anything else, but, Gal did recognize this man, and so, stood in line respectfully. His instincts were telling him to run away, but knowledge that was given to him through other means of which he did not know, told him that this man was not to be feared. Rather Arkinhold was to be accepted.
After walking up to the boy, Arkinhold mentioned one word.
"Galahad"
And that is quite simply how the boy got his name. Once Gal understood that Arkinhold was referring to himself, the boy committed an action he knew very well, did not understand where it came from. Saluting the man before him, Gal noticed that Arkinhold was pleased, and felt pleased himself. The scientist then, walked over to a large chest on the side of the room, took out two long wooden poles, tossed one to Gal, and after Gal held the practice sword firmly, Arkinhold swung.
Galahad, not sure what was going on, brought up his sword to parry. The two poles solidly connected and Gal saw Ark smile. Preparing himself in advance, Gal saw Ark swing at him, dodged to the side, and then struck at the man's legs. Another grin. And so, this would continue for hours. The boy did not ask for food or drink for something within his head told him not to. Again, more knowledge he had but did not understand. Arkinhold only kept to saying commands or small phrases so that Gal's internal memory would pick up on what was being said.
Such activities like this would continue for a few months, wielding poles at different lengths so as to make semblance of a spear or shorter poles for daggers. Also, Arkinhold taught Galahad the art of meditation, so as to be able to concentrate in battle. Once a half a year had passed, Arkinhold brought out a bow of ebony, a quiver of arrows, and handed them to the boy. The language of common was coming quite easily to the boy now, so Arkinhold began use more diverse words so as to demonstrate the techniques of Bow use. Pressing a button on his desk, a wall on the east side of the room opened up to reveal a shooting range with targets of varied distances and shapes. Beginning with the closest one, Arkinhold proceeded to train Galahad in the art of ranged weaponry. Another half a year would pass until the boy was proficient in the weaponry. At this point, Arkinhold put all of the weapons away, closed up the wall, and then proceeded to layer his hands in thin cloth as well as the boy's. For two years, the boy and his master would train in the arts of Wing Chun for punching techniques, Taekwondoe for kicking techniques, and then Judo for grappling techniques. At the end of this training, Galahad had average skills in all of his abilities.
Until now, Galahad's bedroom had been that dark room every night. When he was not tired, he would meditate just as his master had taught him from the beginning. When he finally felt tired though, Galahad would have dreams of combat, dreams of great buildings of materials that gleamed from the bright light up high. He dreamed of a day when the sanctuary around him would collapse, though he would not wake up even once in terror. The reason for this was because Arkinhold explained the meaning of these dreams. Messages sent from a power yet to be understood by a small child. Meanwhile, wanting to understand this, Galahad was also experiencing a more heightened sense of combat. It seemed that during his training, he knew exactly what was going to come next, how he should defend against it, or how to respond to it. Galahad, knowing that his master would give him some cryptic message again, kept this little fact to himself.
The Constructing of a Weapon
As the boy grew more and more in his abilities over the years, he started to want to express his own style of combat, so that he could make his master proud. In order to do this, Galahad, one day, asked Arkinhold if the master would mind taking out the long slightly curved pole from the chest. After the scientist had done so, Galahad started to inspect it further than he'd done with all of the other instruments of war. Smooth handle, long blade, held with two hands or one if strong enough. Feeling pleasure at his own familiarity with the weapon, Galahad then asked Arkinhold if the student could make a real weapon of this model. Arkinhold, with a surprised look and a grin, told Galahad to lay down the weapon and come with him. Pressing another button on his desk, the west wall opened up to show a long tunnel with many doors. Wooden ones, arched ones, even ones made of jelly so thick you couldn't even see through it. Yet, there was one door that Arkinhold stopped at, made of delicate designs where bronze was laced with gold and silver intertwined with copper. Upon opening the granite handle, an engineer's room was discovered. Inside all manner of mechanical and instrumental tools of metalworking stood either being used or sitting in wait. Vents in the ceiling opened up to reveal light shining through and clouds of steam rushing out.
Arkinhold instantly marched forward and walked a few paces past saws and chisels and hammers, to where an anvil and a forge sat. Stacks of metals lined the walls in pillars as different in color and type as the very tools in the room. Also, gadgets and generators of energies Galahad did not know were lain upon a iron counter on the other side of the stacks. Arkinhold then told the boy that if he wanted to create a weapon, he had better learn all of the technology needed to do so, and not just counting numbers and animals. Galahad would have to learn of the biology of creatures and how to kill them, what weapon worked best against others, and how to tactically take down his opponent. Otherwise, Galahad would make a weapon he did not know how to use properly.
To start with, Galahad asked for books on biology, mathematics, and physics. His first task was to learn of all of the creatures known to the common galaxy. Beasts to rodents, reptiles to fish, anything that might have been considered living, he read about, and for years he would do this. Sentient beings were no exception. Aquatic, mammalian, scavengers, predators, anything that held life within its frame or bones or exoskeleton was inserted into his mind.
Afterwards, at the age of twelve, Galahad focused his energy upon mathematics so as to start a building block for the rest of his learning. Four full years were spent going through basic math, Geometry, Algebra, Trigonometry, Mathematical Biology, Mathematical Chemistry, and finishing with Mathematical Physics. Gal's focus came from purely from a need to please Arkinhold. It wasn't a want, or a wish, it was as great a need as breathing air. And through his knowledge of biology, he still couldn't explain it, and still put it off hoping that the answer might one day come from a more thorough search. As more and more months of searching was done though, Galahad became more and more perplexed as to why this was, and eventually talked with his master at the age of 14.
Arkinhold was sitting in his office during this event, as he usually was, going through papers of which Gal had no clue. Once the question was delivered, Arkinhold stopped all of his actions, calmly looked over at the boy, and explained that he was programmed to. Galahad was simply a tool and nothing more. What else must he do other than serve his master? A sudden wave of confusion ran through his head as Galahad tried to deal with the possibility that his choices were not his own. That at one point, he could have done as he so wished.
Knowing that something had to be done, and with great self-control and discipline, Galahad kept his behavior the same as he had done before the inquiry was inquired upon, searching for more knowledge on mathematics, as well as neural sciences to try and deal with whatever was messing with his head. Feeling inwardly angered at such a violation of his own being, Galahad also worked on his sneaky and stealth skills starting with little things like, walking toe heel rather than heel toe lessened the amount of sound one made when walking. Also, the boots that Galahad wore made too much noise, so he took them off so as to strengthen his own feet and build up calluses. The only problem was that there was no rough floor to walk upon, so, going to Arkinhold, and after explaining his theory and thoughts on stealth and physical adaptation, Arkinhold had his assistants put down flooring in Galahad's room that resembled a smoother degree of sand paper, just to start off with.
As was to be expected, at the age of 15, Galahad mastered the schools of biology, mathematics, and neurology, the last one not being known by his master. Upon his success, Galahad worked towards Physics and anything based off of creating weapons. Learning about gravity, planetary relationships, galactic phenomena and many other subjects actually inspired Galahad to pour more of his mindset into that. Particles, matter, black holes, atoms, neurons, quasars, anything dealing with the laws of reality. In fact, such was his hunger for this area of knowledge that he even set aside his own weaponcrafting research to learn all that he could. Quantum Theory, String Theory, The Speed of Light, everything that was related to the laws of physics, Galahad eventually heard about it and absorbed it like a sponge.
In order to compensate for the darkness of his room, he asked Arkinhold for some lighting. As was the norm, Arkinhold gave into Galahad's wishes and attached two lamps on each wall of Gal's room. As a result, Galahad would sit for hours and at other times, days, reading the books of the universe. Sleep was only gained when he couldn't hold himself up any longer. Upon his fatigue induced rest, Galahad would have dreams involving others like him, trapped within huge green cylinders where tubes and a mask would be attached to each and every one of him. Such dreams became more and more intense as his days of youth passed by. Still being in the body of a child limited him in his current capabilities. As a result, Galahad knew that if he ever wanted to get out of Arkinhold's life, he had to take out the man himself. But that would have to wait a few more decades. Patience was what he needed, and patience was something he had yet to understand.
For years he would continue doing research, anything and everything that might give him an edge. When he came to the age of 21 and his brain was wearing on him, Galahad would go back to his room and meditate. Meditation only gave him a slight relief from the day to day life he had, and at one point, boredom would set in. Once it did though, the boy knew of a couple things to pass the time. Going back into the library once more, Galahad looked for metals and alloys of any sort that might be of interest to him. Durasteel was too heavy for a youngling and Cortosis Weave made the blade brittle. He wanted a metal that was durable, light, and sharp. Looking further in the archives, the young scholar looked up a metal called Beskar, or Mandalorian Iron. Looking in stock for any such metal, the boy was unsuccessful, and went to the one man would would help him.
Arkinhold's reply was not to his liking though, since the man was very busy with some current matters that were bothering him. In his place, though, Arkinhold gave orders to six of his assistants to go out and by any means gain the Beskar required for what the boy was making as well as the information on how to work it and forge it into products of great potential. Months of impatience passed, each day being a single decade, as he tried to outdo the boredom that was inflicted upon his mind. In the mean time, Galahad knew exactly what he needed to do. Looking up models and schematics of swords in the past, the boy came upon the samurai sword which was very much akin to the pole he had the greatest affinity with. That blade, and a dirk, which allowed for combat in close quarters. So, through typing out the dimensions of each sword onto the datapad he had linked up to the machines in the room, those same machines went into action creating casings of metal that resembled the dimensional shape of each sword.
Knowing that the casings would sit for another long time while Arkinhold's goons were out looking for Baskar, Galahad decided that he wanted a shield. How else was he going to get protection in the middle of combat? Of course, he could make a suit of armor and what not, but he was still too small and weak to use it, so, he decided to wait. That would be for a later time. Still, a shield seemed kinda useful, and though he couldn't use a real sword yet, he might as well learn how to use a shield for when he could use one.
Arkinhold once more helped him learn the use of the shield and half way through Galahad's training, the Beskar was delivered, only two assistants returned the boy noted. In any case, Arkinhold put him to a challenge. If Galahad could withstand 100 blows from his master, using a smoothed wooden board, Arkinhold would bestow upon him a shield of greater worth than any the boy could make himself.
Quickly, the boy utilized the technique of glancing so that his master's weapon would go down to the side and reduce the amount of impact taken. Still, after a good dozen or so blows were deflected, his arm grew tired and eventually, he had to hold the shield with both arms. From there, another dozen blows were taken, and his legs were starting to weaken from the strain of simply holding himself up. Finally, it got to the point where Galahad huddled in a corner from pure fright while his master beat at the plank until it split in half. Screaming in fear, Galahad dropped both planks just as the man brought his pole for a final strike, and dove between his legs. Wood hit concrete and foot steps could be heard going down a hall way out of the office.
Huddling in his room from fright, the boy knew he had to do something if he ever wished to gain that shield, let alone, if his master would take him up on the challenge again. At this moment, his body had grown slowly but surely and he had been getting taller, which was a sure sign of aging, but he wanted to get older faster, so that he could take on his master for that shield. So absorbed was the boy and the idea of an awesome shield, that he went back into the engineer's room, had Mordekaiser craft a wooden shield for him, and then practiced his skills with the shield. While going through the movements were useful, the boy needed something to actually strike at him. Still, the boy was too young to defend himself against an enemy of even decent strength, and Galahad came to the conclusion that he had to wait still more years.
Creating a Friend
To pass yet more time for age to finally catch up with him, Galahad, seeing as Mordekaiser was pretty much his friend to play around with and such, decided to improve him as such. Looking at the many metals and alloys to mess around with, Galahad knew nothing of droid customization, so back to the archives he went. Schematics of basic droids and their like were learned in a half a year, while more complex ones took a bit longer. At the age of 32, Galahad finally came upon the knowledge needed to mess around with his droid's appearance.
To start with, straight out of the manuals, Galahad grabbed one of the voice boxes from where the generators and stuff were piled. After toying with it for a bit, he finally got it to sound what he wanted his beast of a droid to sound like, then inserted it into the machinery. From there, the blue haired wonder decided to build Morde a new set of armor, but seeing as he was too weak to create it, he had the droid do it himself. Thickened plating was constructed from the machines in the engineers' chamber while Mordekaiser would sand out the edges and spikes. Realizing suddenly, that the droid couldn't possibly carry that much weight on his frame, Galahad went straight to work designing broader and longer limbs and parts. Once Mordekaiser's skeleton was crafted from the machines, the boy noticed that the muscular system of his droid wouldn't be able to move the parts either, so on to musculature he went. Books and holocrons were sifted through in order to find schematics and designs on internal parts of droids. Weeks more would be spent on finding the specific information he needed, and even then, designs would fail over and over again as he tried to piece the puzzle together. Eventually, he got the flaws out of Morde's system, so the he could properly move around with his new suit of plating.
At the age of 36, Galahad had finally finished with his construction upon Mordekaiser, and wanted to begin upon his weapons. As he was given an individual datapad from the assistants documenting all of the information he needed to forge Beskar into weaponry, the boy began working on the dirk first, since he had to have some kind of weapon to wield. Looking at his small supply of Beskar, Galahad put the metal into the forge and heated it up in a ceramic pot. Upon making sure that all of the metal was completely melted, the boy had Morde pour the liquid into a plank shaped mold. The rest of the metal was then poured into a single bar mold for later use. After inputting the information from the datapad into Morde's internal memory bank, Galahad had Morde smith the metal plank into the shape of a katana. When the blade were cooled and had taken its unique form, Morde then started to craft a hilt for the weapon. After taking the beskar bar, he heated it up, split the thing in half, and then began smithing. Calculated precision was better than any skill Galahad could muster, and while the boy was dancing in glee around his friend's success, the handle was finished.
While this was going on, the boy knew that a katana would be too heavy for him to wield at this time, so he had Morde take out some durasteel sheets, and forge a durasteel dirk in the mean time.
Even after so many years of defeat by his master, the boy would not talk to him, in fear of the master himself, so, when it came time to find a suitable grip for swords, Galahad looked around the engineers' room once more and found piles of leather in a corner. Not sure which one was better than the other, Galahad chose to pick his favorite color blue, and used said leather for the hilt. Once the blades were attached to the hilt guards and hilts, scabbards had to be made. Looking back into the archives, scabbards were found to be easily made, as well as belts or straps to hook them to, and so, Galahad worked tirelessly on fitting himself with blue scabbards, a crimson belt, and a crimson leg strap to match. Realizing soon enough that the katana actually interfered with his leg movement, the boy then placed the belt around his torso, tight enough so that it wouldn't move, and for yet more years, it would stay there.
Finally getting tired of looking up information in the archives, the young student decided to put his droid's head to good use. Since Morde's upgrade, he had more space in the helmet which was currently filled with nothing but gears, wires, and a small brain compared to the rest of the body. After gathering datapads from all over the library was well as a book scanner, the blue haired wonder took out Morde's internal brain after deactivating him and then began hardwiring a new one. By use of wires from the storage area, increased the processing speed, memory capacity, and overall capabilities of the brain by direct reference through the pads and books. Once this was done, he then took connection cables and began uploading more information into Morde so that he wouldn't have to go back to the library and archives as often. Galahad also modded Morde's personality to more of a gentlemanly-steward type with a humerous dark side.
Having taken his time on pretty much everything, and wanting to lengthen out every process done in order to take up as much time possible as he could, Galahad made the whole thing take up half a year, but still, that wasn't enough to sat his boredom. At one point, he just blew up, and decided he wanted out.
The Gift of Defense
Impatience had finally gotten to the young lad, making him go to Arkinhold to take up that challenge once more. Seeing as it was many years since they last talked to each other, Galahad only just noticed a stressed and weary look upon the man. Wrinkles and bags of sleepless nights seemed to wear upon the doctor. Still, Arkinhold had not forgotten about the shield and had neither forgotten about the challenge. Once more handing a wooden board to his acolyte and brandishing a pole for himself, the two began combat.
Through the years of labor constructing the weapons in areas that Mordekaiser need not help him, Galahad's bones had hardened and his muscles, although he was young, were toned enough for this. After a dozen blows, the boy was still deflecting them tirelessly. Another dozen blows were pounded at the youngling, and still yet, the boy held firm. Only when Arkinhold got to the 40th swing did he really unleash upon the boy, and that's when everything became not so great for the boy. From some unseen strength, the scientist created cracks in one single smash, and Galahad knew that if the board did not hold up, he would have nothing left to block with...or did he?
Looking back over to the chest while dodging and deflecting with what little of a plank he had left, Galahad had an idea. Jumping once more through his master's legs, he lept towards the chest, and just as his own shield finally shattered and his left arm went out, through sheer concentration and adrenaline, Galahad took one of the longer poles and brought it up at an angle just in time to deflect another blow. After that one shattered, Galahad reached for another pole, not as long as the original one, but still, decent in length, and dodged to the side, just as his master's came down with a loud crack upon the stone floor. Four more swings were to be withstood, and Gal ran out of options when his own pole broke to pieces. Looking at his master's desk lamp, Galahad lept towards it, brought it up, and deflected yet another blow, albeit the pole had made quite a dent, or rather, warp in the metal that the surface came within only a few millimeters of the boys nose.
Another blow was deflected as the glass from the lamp shattered in a spray away from the boy. Tossing the lamp to the side, and realizing that he had no more objects to block with, the final strike was taken by the blocking of his own arms. As they took the full force of Arkinhold's strike, both bone structures were shattered along the full length of each forearm. Glancing down at his pupil who was gasping and crying on the floor before him, Arkinhold pressed yet another button upon his desk, and out from the front of it, opened a secret compartment.
"You may not be listening because of the pain in your arms, but none the less, this shield will help you in the near future. Keep it safe and guarded for if you ever lose it, you will no longer be worthy of it any longer."
After ordering his assistants once more to take care of the boy, Morde followed Galahad out of the room to the Medical facility, where for another year, with basic treatment, the boy's arms healed into place once more.
Night's Return
Once Galahad had gotten his full arm strength over the course of two years, he began to really think about how he was going to get out of this place he was in. His dreams kept getting progressively more bizarre, outlandish, and quite literally showed him what the outside world was like, and being kept in a giant concrete box didn't help much. Taking advantage of the time he had alone with Mordekaiser, the boy and his droid decided to finally get away from the usual path they were kept to in the halls, and explore a bit. The reason as for why he hadn't done this before was because of his fear that he might get in trouble. This day though, that wasn't going to affect him.
Corridors were mapped out in Morde's internal memory bank while doors were kept shut so as not to bring about attention. In some cases, an individual room didn't have a door, and instead opened up right into something akin to a forest within a glass dome. Other worldy sounds were heard within the trees and sunlight could be seen above. Such was the beauty of the sun that Galahad stood there for longer than an eternity looking at the rays passing through the ceiling. Mordekaiser wanting to explore some more of this place nudged Galahad back to reality and so, onward they continued.
Flying up above, growls from the shadows, creatures of all sorts seemed to infest this green globe, all the while, Galahad ordered his droid to take mental pictures of each of them if ever he could. As they ventured onward into the foliage, their excitement grew and grew as the two dared to go outside of the world they had so longed to get out of. For hours they would wonder like this, until finally one of them realized they were lost. Morde, being the smarter of the two, who had focused upon his visual imagery rather than map taking, began making analysis about directions and where they should go. Also, something Galahad noticed was that it was beginning to get dark and the creatures were becoming closer while quieter. Knowing they had to get out of their fast, the droid and his buddy trudged their way through the brush, hoping they would escape whatever place they were in.