The others all introduced themselves after he went, beginning with the robotic Captain Piper. Steam technology was definitely archaic where he came from, and archaic was putting it nicely, but if it worked for her, then who was he to judge? She described herself as a smuggler and listed off a set of achievements that, so far as he could tell, were impressive for her world. It would seem that the Council really was putting out for Heroes from across multiple universes, which was further confirmed when the final member of their team, who'd arrived behind them all except for the woman with the spear, introduced himself and listed his gear and abilities.

Definitely a mix and match group here, but based on the appearance of that camp, the majority of us are from a time period far more advanced. Which means that if the steel gods made taking Markarth so much easier, than they are from a far more advanced universe as well. He noticed that the blue haired gal with the spear was going to speak, so he turned his attention to her, only for their idiot of a leader to cut her off. That certainly brushed the young man wrong way, but he knew that now was not the time to point out that some awareness of others besides himself would do the group no good, especially since the 'Boss' was already off on a tangent. Suddenly the reactions of those who had been on the viewscreen with this Mister President started making sense. And now they had to try and follow him.

This is going to be a huge mess... At this point, the sounds of someone approaching them reached his ears and, as did the rest of the group, Vent turned to look at the approaching person. He seemed fine as he looked over each of them, presumably memorizing interesting bits of their appearance so that if the fighting got bad, he wouldn't accidentally hit a friend, but the moment his eyes fell on Captain Piper, panic lit his features. The Megaman started to reach out to him, to try and explain that they were representatives of the Council, he was already gone, screaming that the enemy had come. Groaning, the young man turned to see what Piper thought of it, though their leader did say that she shouldn't listen to the guy.

Soon after, the sounds of more feet approaching caught his attention and when he turned, he found a group of warriors approaching. Obviously, the Boss' first response was to want to fight, but immediately after asked what they should call themselves when people decided to 'fuck with them.' Vent himself moved forward, un-transformed for now but with Model X in one hand and Model Z in the other just in case negotiations went south. However, before he could, the blue-haired gal beat him to it, finally introducing herself as Azura from the kingdom of Hoshido. And while the location raised questions for the young man, he waited as she did her best to defuse the tense situation. Her offering of peace was...something in the song felt...strange, but he didn't feel that asking what it was now was a good idea, and instead moved to reinforce her words.

"She speaks the truth. The...steambot in front of you is an ally, here with us as a fellow representative of the Council in Tetris Castle in Platform City. Your leader, Ulfric Stormcloak, should be expecting us." He kept his hands to his side, a sign of honesty back home and hopefully here. "We don't want to fight you if we don't have to."

Now Taric was getting the idea: the massive man with a pompous sense of fashion offered to lower down a few out the window in order to establish various vantage points. Yes, that could work, especially when Shantae had...done whatever she had, most likely some sort of magic that existed in her universe and made her way outside. Now, if only they could get someone else outside, someone suitable for the job.

James was having none of it, making his objections loud and clear as he did something Bentley never, ever had heard in his whole life; he sweared. Well not something really bad, but it was still harsher than any cursewords they had around where Bentely was from. The green turtle rolled his wheelchair around to face the Guardian, clearly taken back by the fact that he was being told what plan HE was to follow, not one he made himself!

"...why do things never go 100 % according to plan? What are the mathematically odds?" Bentley questioned himself quietly, deciding not to push the issue against James who clearly was not having any of their spying.

Bentely, now left with his new crew minus James and Shantae, noticed Sparx flying to the window Taric had already opened, speaking to them. "Well if we're waiting, might as well take the time to do what little recon we can do from up here." Bentley said as he rolled the wheelchair over to said window, scootching in beside Taric and activating one of his many gadgets: The Binocucom - a magnificent piece of engineering that combined bincoulars and communications. The device that looked like a fancy, high-tech pair of binoculars, popped out of Bentley's arm-rest and extended in front of his eyes. "Hey Charger! If you have a comm-link like James said, I can connect my Binocucom to your communications. More means of communications are always better, right?" Bentley said to Charger, the floating robot with what appeared to be a highly advanced A.I. with a personality-module. Oh yes, he was going to ask James persmission to check Charger if he could.

Bentley witnessed pretty much the same scene as Sparx: the hooded figure jumped, leaped and sprinted further and further away from them. "Sparx is right, guys. He's getting away! We got to do some..." Bentley added to Sparx comment, before he his in peripheral vision saw something else. He slowly looked upwards through the window, even sticking his head out further and further to see what it was. "...Guys? You wouldn't happen to know where there is a massive airship just floating above the city?"

After her little speech the final member of their group introduced himself. With Vent she had assumed was a military man but with this gentleman there was no doubt. Heavy body armor, a massive rifle and a professional salut had made this clear before he even got to his rank and specialisation. Also, everything he said pretty much made sense, which was a nice change and fit with her perception that this was a team made up of individuals who had dealt with some pretty extraordinary stuff over the course of their lives. She was thankful that none of the others seemed to be as insane as the boss, though whether Vent and Ruben where the kind to follow orders no matter how absurd remind to be seen.

They then all had to then sit though the boss’s analysis of them, Azura was spared seeing as she had declined to introduce herself, Vent’s feedback was as confusing as his own speech had been (what was japan, let alone a sex doll?) and Ruben’s formal military attitude was immediately shot down which she imagined might annoy him. As for herself, after the boss failed to recognise any of her carefully chosen feminine aesthetics other than her vocal pitch, he proceeded to show what might have been touching concern for her wellbeing where it not for the blindingly obvious and patronising nature of his advice. Still, she might as well alleviate any concerns on her running out of fuel:

I have coal to last me a few days, so it should be fine. Up in space water is a bigger issue for us than fuel, we actually use it as currency, but down here that problem is alleviated by, well, it laying all over the place.

As she relayed this information the santa hatted steambot patted a rather small cloth sack hanging from her belt that presumably held her vital fuel supply. Nobody had much of an opportunity to respond to the subsequent bequeathing of nicknames however, (hers making her sound like a robot that was fueled by femininity, the rest getting ones just as bizarre and/or unflattering) as they were all distracted from conversing by the sudden appearance and subsequent rapid disappearance of a screaming man. Which was very weird, peticularly seeing as he seemed to be part of the group they were supposed to be meeting. While the boss attempted to console he with more patronisation she figured it out, resulting in a clang as she facepalmed.

”They think I’m one of the ‘steel gods’” she groaned, unaware that most of the party had already silently come to this conclusion. By the time she removed her three fingered claw from her line of sight the Stormcloaks had sent out their response to the perceived threat: 10 men and woman armed with thick armor and melee weapons, which struck her as odd. While she had fought both against and alongside bots willing to use melee combat they were all insane (apart from that one gorilla shaped one who was just an ass) and none fought without some kind of firearm armed backup. Did they not have that option or where they just crazy. This far from home, who could say?

The manchild the increasingly incompetent seeming council had put in charge of the mission’s first response to this misunderstanding was to fight the warriors now legging up the hill towards them. He didn’t even have any weapons, what was he going to do, wrestle with the heavily armed and armored warriors to the ground and then slap some sense into them? Have them all do the same? That was ridiculous Piper thought. After all only the sofar unnamed (she refused to use the bosses nickname even internally) other woman of the group had a weapon that gave her an edge in melee similar to their the axe and sword wielding aggressors. Barring any unseen backup melee weapons the others might have like her brass knuckle, gunning down the incoming troops was all their arms were good for, and unlike with bots they couldn't just stick the confused nords back together later and then explain things. Still, Piper was not someone familiar with fighting people that listened to reason, and so she saw little other choice than attempting to take their accidental foes down nonlethally despite how stupid that felt. What felt equally stupid was that he decided now was a good time to come up with a team name. Shure, he couldn't actually do anything till the Stormcloaks got here, but that didn't mean talking about that now didn’t feel off. His name suggestion certainly did not help in that regard.

”Just Crew will do fine Boss. I’ll try and break some of their weapons ‘for they reach us.”

Pipe had been lining up her first shot which she intended to use to start carefully decapitating the warrior's axe heads with well aimed snipes to the shafts when she was interrupted by Azura’s stunning serenade of an introduction and her call for peace. It was here first experience of magic and the song left her awestruck in addition to intended effects. She slowly lowered her blacksmith sniper to her side, thoughts of violence forgotten, as she just had to stand there and take in the spellbinding performance.

It was Vent who drew her back to reality and to the threat before them with his reinforcement of Azura’s speech. Good to see she had been wrong about him, but it did mean she now felt like a hypocrite. To his words she added:

”I assure you, I am not your enemy, and I am not one of these ‘steel gods’ your leader told the council about. I’m actually mainly made of copper, bronze and brass”

Seeing as here appearance was the cause of the confusion she did her best to look unthreatening, holstering her revolver, backing off slightly and then raising her hands up in the air in order to show her unarmed state. The materials rundown she gave may have felt out of place, but she hoped the strangeness of the inclusion of the additional information would help them change their perception of her, moving her into a separate mental box from the one the ‘steel gods’ where in.

Kazooie was rightly ignored during her and Banjo’s turn in favor of a more urgent matter. Given that she generally tended to draw too much attention (mostly negative) their way, it was unusual for the duo to have focus taken off them so easily, but in this case, it came as more of a relief than anything. The issue at hand was none other than an apparent inventory malfunction on the Bros’ part. A live explosive somehow loosed itself from one of their pockets while they were engaged in their fits of laughter, at which point Frisk set to trying to rectify the problem, which really just meant physically carrying it as far away from the scene as possible. S/he then proceeded to disarm it in the stairwell with… something. To an uninformed observer, it was difficult to tell exactly what it was that the kid kept projecting forth, but it could be safely inferred that there was definitely more to them than appearances and demeanor suggested.

Astonished by what they had just witnessed, the two brothers rushed over to the child--and the soldier who covered them--as hastily as their anatomy would allow to offer their thanks. The second bro made note of the fact that Frisk chose to save their lives in their moment of weakness rather than exploiting their hysterical stupor to do away with them, while the first was at the child’s feet begging forgiveness for his prior indiscretion. Their decision to shift their allegiances in the heroes’ favor followed shortly after, but not without some brief debate amongst the two regarding the matter. The bear and bird couldn’t help but notice the part where they were afraid that Kirby would come to “kill” them. Kirby? That harmless looking pink creature back on the ship that Rosalina was playing with? What kind of universe was this where that was the apparent bane of everyone’s existence?

Regardless, it sounded like the bros could go for some much needed and very well justified desertion, but not before they returned their favor of gratitude to the team. They volunteered to get them through the next floor and began leading them down. As the team made their descent, the scent of sea salt hit them with the steady rise of moisture content in the air--a familiar sensation to the bear and breegull. This told them that water awaited them at the end… and them some. They arrived at a dark, cavernous ocean body with but a narrow bridge of dock stretching from one end to the other for footing, and from beneath all of it abruptly emerged the would-be floor boss, Fatty, arcing overhead and splashing down on the side opposite. Banjo and Kazooie both waved at him as he was formally introduced. The Poppy Bros (the smarter of the two, mostly) made their case to Fatty, explaining what had lead up to it, and without any fuss whatsoever, the blue whale casually agreed to let the team by. Good thing, too, as the duo would have been ill-suited to face him at their current level without most of their abilities (and maybe some help from Mumbo and/or Humba). While he was at it, he made sure to warn the group that those up ahead wouldn’t be so easy-going or merciful as him.

“Too bad for them,” added Kazooie somewhat cockily, implying that the proceeding bosses would be better off following Fatty and the Bros’ (but more so Fatty’s) example. Banjo returned a nod to the floor bosses in parting before continuing onward. They eventually found themselves in yet another dark room, but the feeling of open air and soft grass against Banjo’s bare feet gave him some sense of where he might be, even if it didn’t make sense. Then again, not much here did.

In came two voices to break the silence, followed by the reveal of illuminating presences to give them shape, which came in the form of sun and moon. They barely finished introducing themselves by name (Misters Shine and Bright, respectively) before they took to aggressively arguing over who would get the first shot at the heroes. The sky flickered compulsively between day and night as the two celestial body caricatures butted heads competing for the leading spot in their turn order. What stopped them from both acting as a unit? What it simply because day and night took turns by way of natural order? Whatever made things easier on the team would be fine by Banjo and Kazooie, either way.

They finally came to a reluctant consensus with a single round of Rock-Paper-Scissors that Mr. Bright had been the victor of. Mr. Shine begrudgingly conceded and took his place at the top of the “room”, casting daylight on their chosen battleground. Bright dropped to ground-level and wasted no time making his first move. He began to whirl like a saw before charging recklessly towards the group, kicking up fresh grass trimmings in his wake. Banjo threw himself to his left without thinking, having almost no time to, in an attempt to dodge that might narrowly succeed. Kazooie would then capitalize on his momentum by twisting clockwise with wings outstretched, reorienting them to face in the direction of the rolling moon, and bringing them to a graceful stop. Banjo landed on all fours in a lunging position, taking aim at Mr. Bright as Kazooie discharged two three-round volleys of blue eggs that may otherwise appear harmless but had the speed and a glowing particle trail behind them to suggest otherwise. Admittedly, while not bad on their own, they used to have harder hitting tools in their kit to choose from, but given their current limitations, they would be more than fine making do on their ranged options.

Unsure of how to respond to the name "soldier-medic," which was promptly followed up with the even more ridiculous "Russian dude," Ruben merely gave the Boss a sharp nod. From the other nicknames (none of which were anything close to professional), it was apparent that his real one, much less rank or position, would be used. Unfortunately, to the Boss's ignorance, Ruben had always been addressed by his rank and surname (Squaddie Verislav), until it was replaced my his call sign (Guardian). He made a mental note to remember that he was now Russian Dude, the soldier-medic, like it or not. Boss was the new Commander, and orders are orders.

With his introduction complete and the Boss's nicknames assigned (including to the new woman, who appeared behind them and was given an even more ridiculous name), the briefing began. Or, it would have, if the group hadn't been rudely interrupted by what appeared to be a scout, though he was most likely an ambassador sent to arrange their meeting with Ulfric. He was dressed for the weather and era, which was ever bit fantasy that Ruben had braced himself for. He noted the sword at the man's side. Hopefully being armed was a general custom here. Not that he had any right to question openly carrying weapons. He was never in public without a rifle in his hands and a pistol on his belt. His grip tightened on his weapon ever so slightly nonetheless as he prepared for orders, which were cut just as short as the briefing by the expression of confusion on the man's face. Apparently, he had not been informed as to the appearance of his visitors. This was confirmed seconds later as the man turned a shade of white that would have put the snow to shame. He let out a scream of absolute terror and retreated at an impressive speed.

Ruben glanced to the place the man's eyes had focused on and found himself facing Captain Piper. He blinked, then recalled the briefing back at the castle. Gods of steel, they said, and here was a humanoid made of metal. It didn't take much effort to put the pieces together. It was a mystery so simple that even the Boss was able to figure it out. He assured Piper that she was great, no doubt to the great relief of the robot, who would undoubtedly have been decimated without his word of comfort.

The series of interruptions continued as the horrified man was relieved by ten warriors brandishing hand weapons and wearing no armor of any kind, unless animal hide would achieve anything. Instinctively Ruben crouched into a low stance, jumping forward past the line of fire of his teammates raising his rifle, bringing the sights up to his narrowed eye. His rifle had a decent effective range, which was soon reached by the barbarous battalion. Ten red holographic crosshairs appeared in his scope, locking onto each man and generating their estimated health. Each was assigned a hit percentage, a two-digit number that rapidly approached 100%, and the damage each would take. Two rounds per target, one if he was a good shot. His 25-round burst rifle would down half of the enemy force with ease.

Of course, engaging enemies was only part of his job. Satisfied with the rifle's calculations, he scanned the immediate terrain, formulating a source of cover for each ally to take. He created a mental shield over each tree and decently large rock, assigning them either half-cover or full-cover. A large tree a few feet away provided cover for a ranged fighter. Two rocks northwest of his position would allow melee allies to advance without placing themselves in too much danger, while keeping them within running distance so that he could reach them and apply his Medikit if necessary.

The order to prepare for a fight was given, along with the request to suggest a group name. Ruben disregarded it, focusing on the approaching targets. They were in no particular formation, with some far ahead of others. Their lack of armor would allow the high-caliber rifle rounds to travel through multiple targets. Ruben wondered briefly if the rest of the group had been unassigned because the Boss was expecting his to engage them all with his first volley. It didn't matter to him. Orders were orders. All he needed was the order to fire.

Any second now.

To his surprise, the tall, blue-haired woman stepped in front of him, blocking him from engaging several targets. He scowled. The Boss hadn't given her orders to change position. What was she doing?

"I am Azura, from the kingdom of Hoshido.”

Her weapon dropped to the ground.

"We wish to parley with your leader. There is no need for violence, or fear. This is for you: a token of peace.”

Ruben gritted his teeth in frustration. He didn't care who this woman was. She did not have the authority to act without orders, much less speak for the rest of the group! Parlay? There was no negotiation here. This was open combat, and she was blocking his line of sight. What was going on?? HE forced himself to keep his mouth shut. The Boss would handle this. His frustration was abated a few moments later as a strange feeling engulfed him. Azure had chosen this moment to perform a song, but is was a strange song. For reasons he couldn't understand, he considered the prospect of not fighting. The adrenaline flow subsided and his heart rate lowered to a more natural pace.

The others spoke, but he wasn't paying attention. The spell was effective, but it did not persist. He may not have been trained to resist magical mental manipulation, but he had been trained against extraterrestrial attacks, and already his mind was fighting to regain control he wasn't aware he has lost. However, the mind is a powerful tool, and the longer the others spoke, the clearer his head became. Blinking a few times, he began to see the enemy threat as a threat again. The Boss said to fight. One single thought, one rule, forced its way through the serenity and peace. It took a while, but it eventually overruled his thought. Without thinking, he said it aloud.

"Orders are orders."

The spell dissipated a moment before the Boss began to speak, and the rifle was at the ready again. What the others did, said, or felt was irrelevant. He couldn't care less about the opinion of the blue-haired singer, strafing her position and taking cover behind a tree stump, rifle primed and locked onto the nearest target. Orders are orders, and all he needed was the order to fire. It was up to the Boss now, and Ruben listened intently.

---

The approaching Nords slowed in their charge when the woman in blue that stepped forth to confront them began to sing. It hadn’t been just any normal song. They felt it. It passed through them like magic, touching their very souls. They hadn’t only heard it with their ears. It was as though their very existence listened. The Nords slowed and then stopped, lips parted in awe and no longer feeling the urge to fight.

Back at the camp, every Nord had stopped moving. They froze in their preparation and Ulfric gazed off into the distance, his own eyes enlarged. What is this magic? he mused. The steel gods didn’t use such magic. At least not to their knowledge. No intelligence report had described them ever using magic. They were like the Dwemer of old.

When the song ended, Ulfric blinked as though waking from a dream. He glanced around at his surroundings…he felt so calm. The other Nords were gazing about as Ulfric once again gazed into the distance. He could still see the first unit standing there. The enemy group hadn’t tried to kill them from what he could see. Could he have been initially correct? Ulfric turned toward the ladder and quickly slid down to the crunchy frozen earth. A few of his warriors strode over to his side.

“My lord?” one questioned, curious about his urgency.

“They aren’t the steel gods,” Ulfric told them. He then shouted over his shoulder to the rest of his waiting cloaks, “Standby!”

Standby!

Standby!

The command was echoed.

“Open the gate! I am going out!” Ulfric ordered.

The gate was opened and Ulfric ran with four of his warriors toward the group. That song could have been heard by anyone and Ulfric feared that the enemy may had heard it too.

The ten Nordsmen had stopped and gazed upon Captain Piper as she explained that she was not a steel god. Calmed by Azura’s song, they were able to take a moment to assess the situation. The gods that they were familiar with were not among the group—however…they stared at Captain Piper.

“Is it Dwarven?” one of the Nord warriors asked.

The superior of the group frowned suspiciously as he continued to scrutinize the red robot, “I don’t know.”

Behind the group, charging across the snow was a group of men and women dressed in skins, furs, and donning antlers. Unlike the Stormcloaks, they didn’t wield medieval weaponry, instead they were carrying energy weapons most familiar to Vent. Howling and shouting a tribal chant, the Forsworn—twenty in numbers—raised their weapons and began firing on the group.

“Forsworn!” a Stormcloak shouted. Blue and green beams began streaking through the air, seeking to incinerate anything they touched. The Stormcloaks scattered, seeking cover behind rocks or dropping to their bellies in the snow.

Ulfric saw the lasers appear in the distance as he and his men neared the group, and he cursed under his breath. If only he hadn’t second guessed himself. He stopped and thrusted out an arm as he commanded, “Take cover!”

---

Total Enemies: 20
Forsworn
Location: On the ground behind the Hero Group



GM Note: First battle has commenced. The group is faced with 20 Forsworn minions wielding energy weapons, mostly rifles.
The terrain is icy and temperate. Players are free to have their heroes pick off the enemy freely. There are no named enemies at this time. XP has been initiated. Any actions or decisions your characters decide to make will affect the mission from this point on. Consequences can either be positive or negative. The results are only seen every GM post.


If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can @Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Mr. President, Azura, Vent, Captain Piper, and Ruben.

Robogirl seemed to agree with the team name idea, offering her own suggestion to make it just “crew.” Boss nodded and glanced up at the sky with a smirk. “I guess you’re right. It sounds too similar to that one band.”

The Boss turned around to see Spear Babe bowing to the enemy. He frowned at her as though she were crazy. He then tilted his head back toward the rest of the Crew and whispered, “What is she doing? She surrendering?”

Spear Babe revealed her name to be Azura from the Kingdom of Hoshido. Hoshido…some Japanese Chinese shit. The Boss’s brows rose as he blinked and then he whirled toward the rest of the group. “She’s Chinese!?” He would have never guessed. His head snapped back over his shoulder, taking in her features again—probably more than what she would have desired if she wasn’t too occupied to notice. He couldn’t believe it!

Azura amazed him a second time when she began to sing. The Boss listened to the blue-haired girl spread her soothing song like a warm blanket over the land. His eagerness to fight the Stormcloaks vanished as Boss crossed his sweater-covered arms before his chest and listened to her pleasant tune. Her song ended with her resting a hand against her chest as though in pain. However, the Boss’s attention was on the dumbfounded soldiers. His lips unzipped into a mischievous grin. They looked completely unarmed.

While Captain Piper and Vent were attempting to reason with the Stormcloaks while they were rational, Boss uncrossed his arms and praised Azura, “Great distraction!”

He then ordered over his shoulder to the others, “Let’s kick their ass!”

The president lunged forth, prepared to literally throw his body into the gaggle to throw their balance when a beam passed over his shoulder. He felt the heat on his cheek, making his hair rise in terror. Boss dropped straight down upon the snow nearly losing his glasses as he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose.

“What the hell? They got energy weapons in this game? I thought this was supposed to be some medieval shit!” Boss exclaimed. He quickly low-crawled over to a large rock and remained on his back in the snow, taking cover. Once he was somewhat safe, he rolled onto his stomach and peeked beyond the rock at the tribal types approaching them. They weren’t wearing any armor from what he could tell. They just had some heavy equipment. “Hey, if you guys got some guns or some shit, take those guys out!”

Boss rolled back onto his back and called out, “Kinzie! Kinzie, I need a big gun or something!”

“Sorry Boss. The signal to your location is pretty weak. The download is going to take a while.”

“What!? Can’t you and Miller strengthen the connection?”

“I’m not working with that Nyte Blade creep!”

“Woah, don’t involve Nyte Blade in this,” came Matt. “Nyte Blade has nothing to do with your inability to establish a stronger connection speed to Skyrim.”

“Shut up! I can do it. It’ll just take time!”

“Let me help you.”

“You touch this system and I’ll kill you!”

“Guys! GUYS! I’m getting shot at down here can you just hurry and settle your differences and get me some firepower before I’m killed or captured!?!”

“The Boss wouldn’t still be in danger if you just let me help.”

“That’s it!”

Mr. President could hear Kinzie and Matt arguing and fighting over his comms and he dropped his face in the snow. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Actually, he should have known better by now.

Ounce by ounce, the jabbing pain in Azura's innermost parts dissolved, and with guarded optimism she surveyed the results of her endeavor. One of her allies, the strange young man who identified himself as Vent, followed up her serenade with a second plea for nonviolence. Piper, too, did her best to assure the warriors that they meant no harm. Clearly they, too, felt the soothing touch of her song. Opposite her party the locals' advance had slowed to a crawl, their hostility numbed. When Azura glanced at the last two member of her team, however, their posture gave her cause to worry. The soldier, strange weapon in hand, appeared more than militant—he seemed apt to attack at any moment, already rid of whatever peace the princess' enchanted aria brought him. Were he malevolent, he'd be sweating bullets right now at the very least, she reasoned, eyes narrowed. The only possibility is that war is baked into him, that mindlessly following commands is so second-nature that he can't deviate from his course. Would the biggest threat to a working relationship between these two supposedly allied groups come from one of her own?

Azura's voice, low and urgent, flew to him through the frigid air. ”What are you, an attack dog? These are allies, so lower your weapon.” Coolly she considered that her words -her orders- challenged the authority of the Boss as well as the ego of this hardened soldier. Did Ruben chew on what he was fed, or could he decide for himself what was best, including matters of leadership? Surely he recognized the Boss's blatant incompetence. Either way, Azura needed to find out. She watched out of the corners of her yellow eyes as more Nords approached, including an important-looking fellow. Despite the potential powder kegs in her midst, things looked as though they would sort out alright.

Boom.

Her eyes flew open as the Boss commented on her performance, realizing what he meant just as he gave his command. She whirled around, sending her hair flying. ”No!”

A beam of light appeared in her vision, and without thinking she leaped to the left. With a dancer's grace she landed on her feet, whirling once again to watch the energy ray burn a hole straight through a snowdrift. [color]“Thoron!?”[/color] The attack didn't seem to be Thunder magic, but there was no time to quibble over what sorcery it was. More beams surged forward, flying forth from a group of barbarians wielding catalysts that contrasted their fur pelts something fierce. With no cover near enough to escape the onslaught, Azura threw herself down into the snow next to her lance. There, her white coat allowed her to practically disappear. She lay there, adrenaline making her breath rapid, thinking. She could wait here, hidden by the snow, until enemies got close enough for an ambush, but considering her limited field of view and lack of any sort of expertise as an assassin she doubted it would be her best bet. Instead, she settled on a better plan. Almost everyone around her, after all, had been lulled into a nonhostile mood by her previous song. To avoid a slow start and being overwhelmed by the Forsworn marauders, they needed a pick me up. Azura rolled onto her back, clutching her lance to hold to her chest as she did. Though not at all ideal for a rousing performance, this situation could be improved by a quick verse. Once again, her melodic voice broke the morning air.

”Heroes bringing us hope's light!
Journey from distant worlds
To still the coming night!”

The stanza, sung more quickly and with more energy than before, wiped away the soothing haze that her previous song had wrought. It would, she expected, galvanize her allies into action, perhaps even give them enough of a burst of energy to dodge incoming shots, and allow them to make a dent in the Forsworn attack. Once their magic was suppressed, she could get up and join the fight, but while those beams continued to flash across the landscape she couldn't risk revealing herself. Holding back a groan, she tried to bury the painful stings that prickled her in silence.

Frisk reassured them that they knew what they were doing and would let them know if they see an alternative solution to killing the enemy. The ex-SOLDIER nodded. Always looking for an alternative, Cloud thought to himself. He didn’t think Frisk could ever truly not be pacifistic. As Cloud motioned toward the next boss chamber, he stopped when Frisk decided to pay him a compliment. Blush appeared on his cheeks as he was reminded of someone. He was reminded of two girls actually—Aerith and Tifa. They had always liked to see him smile. Apparently, he didn’t smile enough.

“Thanks,” Cloud finally responded. I guess I don’t notice it that much.

The third boss chamber reminded him of the Senior Poppy Bros’s boss chamber. It was so dark that he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, and slowly, Cloud reached back to grasp the hilt of his sword. The room was deceiving. The grass, the smell, and the breeze made him wonder if they were truly in a room. Then, the voices followed. The ceiling, which appeared to be an actual skyscape lit up with the shine from two celestial bodies. One was a personified sun, and the other, a moon. With his off-hand, Cloud raised it before his face to veil his mako-green eyes from the combined glare. He couldn’t imagine anyone being able to look directly at them without risking going blind.

That’s all we need is another dynamic duo, Cloud mused, his blonde brows converging. The sun moved closer, and when it did, Cloud could feel the heat. It was like having his face held above a burning stove. The swordsman raised his arm, but was unable to keep the heat from bringing him discomfort. Mr. Shine was going to be a big problem. Mr. Bright was able to unintentionally distract Mr. Shine into a heated argument over what was scarier. Dropping his arm, Cloud sighed and then looked to the others naturally checking on their well-being.

There was no question that Mr. Bright and Mr. Shine were going to be enemies that they would have to take down. Cloud drew, what appeared to be a new sword. While it was still pretty long, it wasn’t as massive as his Buster Sword. The blade had a purple-hue and Cloud held it before him with both of his hands in the same manner he had held his previous one.

“I don’t think we’re sparing these guys,” said Cloud.

After the two entities settled their differences with a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, Cloud was a little happy to know that Mr. Bright would take them on first. No offense to the lunar being, but Mr. Shine seemed more fearsome just by proximity alone. Mr. Bright attacked, turning into a saw blade. Cloud dove out of the moon’s path just as the others had, catching his weight upon the flat side of his sword and rolling forward to quickly right himself. The ex-SOLDIER was kneeling in the grass, facing the rotating blade. Magic oscillated around him in a fiery ring, teasing his blonde hair. The green materia orb embedded in his sword gleamed before Cloud thrust out his hand in Mr. Bright’s direction, hoping to catch him in an ice spell and slow his momentum.

---

The moon came out of his roll as Frisk called for his attention. He unraveled, resting his feet upon the grass and whirled around in time to feel ice flash across his body. Rifle fire from the Stalwart shattered the ice, causing Mr. Bright to stagger backwards with a groan, and then followed a barrage of…eggs? The blue eggs shattered against the moon in two barrages of three, sending him flying back a few feet before he landed in the grass. Whatever Flirt Frisk had attempted had went unheard. Mr. Bright gripped the grass and slowly sat upwards, revealing his crescent moon-shape to be cracked. A fragment actually broke off his body to the grass, revealing only pitch-black darkness within him. Mr. Bright’s eyes widened as a hand quickly slapped over the hole. He gazed at the group with a new light. There was actually fear shining in his enlarged eyes as he gazed upon the group of heroes. The moon’s stunned state was broken by the insensitive laughter of his rival, Mr. Shine.

“AH HA HA HA HA!” Mr. Shine roared. “They knocked you on your ass! Is that a moon fragment I see?”

Mr. Bright grabbed the shard as though to hide it as he scowled up at Mr. Shine. Mr. Shine had a long and condescending smile on his face as he looked down at him. “You barely survived the first bout.” Mr. Shine then looked to the group. “Hurry up and kill this lousy excuse for a light bringer, watching this fight is giving me…SUN BURN!”

Mr. Shine snorted with laughter as fiery tears began to rain upon the grass beneath him. “The Senior Bros would have loved that one—hahahaa!”

Mr. Bright frowned deeply before he shouted, “SHUT UP! I will destroy them with my special attack. LUNAR BLADES (there was an uncanny echo)!”

The moon spread his arms to either side of him and two three-foot long sickle-like blades of light appeared in his gloved hands. Twisting his body to the right, he flung the first one like a boomerang at Frisk and Alicia, and then twisted left, flinging the second at Cloud and Banjo-Kazooie.

---

GM Note: From here on out, all players will be required to keep track of their word count. XP will be awarded every GM post. Be sure to check the XP hider to see how much XP your character earned. Remember to keep your CSes updated. I have seen players slack in keeping their XP up-to-date and they have lost XP points because of it. I didn't take the XP away from them, they just didn't keep track of the XP on their own. It is YOUR responsibility if you want your character to level.




If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Frisk, Alicia Harnick, Banjo & Kazooie, and Cloud.

Vent slowly relaxed as it became apparent that between Azura's song and the reasoning of himself and Captain Piper would indeed get through to the group of soldiers. He began to relax as they started talking to each other when two things happened behind him. The first was the soldier, Ruben, who stated that 'order were orders' and the sound of his weapon being put back to his shoulder caused the Mega Man to spin, opening his mouth to tell him off when Azura beat him to it, asking him if he had a mind of his own in not so many words. If that was how uncertain engagements were going to go...This is one giant bomb waiting to-

And then, true to the idiocy he had thus far shown, the Boss gave the order to attack them. "Are you stupid?!" Any retort, however, was cut short as a familiar looking energy blast cut through the air between him and Azura, sending him diving for cover behind a tree. "Right, well, guess he's going to get his fight either way. Let's do this!" The transformation took only a few seconds, but it gave an idea for the 'Boss' as to what Double megamerging was. The sword then became the ZX Blaster and he went to work. Spinning around one side of the tree he'd taken cover behind, he let off a three round burst, one laser aimed at three different targets, before taking cover again.

He then poked out around the other side of the tree and fired two more times, at one of the barbarians holding a larger laser rifle. While transformed, Vent knew he could take a considerable number of hits more than he could in his normal human appearance, but would he be able to close with them for attacks with the ZX Saber? No, stay at range for now. I can't guarantee that they don't have melee weapons, not to mention there's a lot more of them than there are of me. Still, eventually the laser fire forced him to take cover behind a rock a little closer to the Forsworn than he was before, where he fired another burst of three, two for another heavy rifle wielder and one for a more lightly armed foe, all the shots aimed center mass.

Frisk could see that their flirt went unheard. However, when Mr. Bright turned to look at them, Frisk couldn't help but gasp silently at the fear they saw in the personified Moon's eyes. Memories of a nightmare came back to Frisk in the form of Monster Kid and Flowey looking at them wide-eyed fear.

"In my way..."
"Free EXP..."
"Please....don't kill me...!"

Frisk shook their head clearing their mind of the nightmares. Before Frisk could even say anything to calm things down, Mr. Shine laughed carelessly at Mr. Bright, and berated him, while making puns. The child leader easily caught onto the sentence regarding the Senior Bros. Did Mr. Shine...think that they were dead?

...Maybe there was a way to spare them after all? It's still worth a try, because it may be possible to save Mr. Bright. Mr. Shine however...

Soon the Lunar Blades were unleashed, and Frisk dodged, trusting that their friends would do the same. They kept an eye on the blades, trusting a gut feeling that told them that they would act as boomerangs. They warned their team, "Keep an eye on those blades!"

When the attack was done, Frisk called to Cloud and Banjo-Kazooie, "Cloud, Banjo, Kazooie! See if you can't keep Mr. Shine busy. Rain on his parade!" Frisk then told Alicia, "Alicia, cover me, but don't fire unless necessary,"

Frisk then looked to Mr. Bright and stepped forwards, showing no aggression, but still wary and ready to dodge in case the moon attacked. Frisk spoke to Mr. Bright, "Hey...Why do you listen to him? He hasn't been very warm with you..."

They then offered kindly, "It's okay if you don't want to fight us. We won't fault for that. You can go with the Senior Bros and go on vacation with them if you want! We just want to continue on our way,"

Frisk had hovered their SOUL over the MERCY and SPARE buttons. Hopefully, Mr. Shine would be too distracted to dissuade Mr. Bright from accepting the mercy.

After taric had looked out of the window several people charged out of it, as if joyus to be free from the room. One was a the now monkey shaped Shantae and the other a pursuing Varrock who, after ordered them to stay put because he worried about an ambush, belted it after the Shantae in-order to get the team to stick together. As soon as he left however, it became clear that that worry was misplaced, as their shadowy stalker was instead seen belting it up the road, then over the rooftops, escaping with whatever information they had gleaned.

”Looks like we won’t have to worry about an ambush then.”

His attention was then brought to that of the ship that had appeared in the city, hanging ominously as it was above the castle, by the binocular welding Bently.

” I see it. I imagined that is not a normal sight in platform city, hasn't been anything like it while I’ve been here anyway.” admittedly he had only been here for a day” I for one will not be catching up with our limber friend any time soon, so unless you have any gadgets that can catch up with our sneaky speedster friend” maybe there were rocket boosters on the chair somewhere ”I suggest we get to Tetris castle immediately incase that airship starts to become a problem. Charger, inform your man that we are setting off early. The 5 minute wait is redundant now anyway, what with the would be ambusher racing off towards the horizon as we speak”



Cooler heads prevailed. It was to Pipers great relief that their attempt at peace had been successful. Whether this could be primarily contributed to whatever force Azura had created or to their collective assistance that they were friendly could not be discerned, yet the warriors slowed in their charge, coming to a halt before them. With relief she lowered her hands back down to her hips, ready to draw her gun once more should danger arise.

With the danger seemingly averted, she then had to bear the weight of the Nords stares. Not that she wasn’t used to this kind of attention, a combination of fame and infamy meant that back home steambots only familiar with her through rumor would often do the same. She did her best to dispel their awe/fear/curiosity with a friendly greeting.

”I’m not dwarven, not sure what that is. I’m Piper, Piper Faraday. ‘S a pleasure to meet you all”

Just after they had initiated a dialogue there was a brief moment where everything looked like it was going to come to blows anyhow, as the boss seemed to not realize that violence was now uncessisery, and Ruben showed himself to be every bit of the mindless military grunt she had worried he might be. Whether Azura and Vent’s quick, condescending, retorts to this foolishness was going to dissuade them from unnecessary bloodshed became almost immediately irrelevant at the appearance of warriors, wearing some killer hats, who did not look like they should be wielding the kind of tech that they proceeded to open fire with. The futuristic looking rifles reminded her of volt tech and as such there was little doubt of how dangerous they here, even before they started incinerating any and everything they hit. That they attacked both the stormcloaks and themselfs insuitied that this was not another misunderstanding, these were the people that they were here to stop.

In hindsight Ruben had been the wisest of them all, though it was mostly accidental. Unlike the rest of them he didn't have to make a mad dash to take cover from the laser blasting tribals. Taking cover was something Piper did without need to here Ulfric’s call, ducking her head low as her metal feet pounded against the ground to bring her to the temporary safety of a large, sturdy, tree. Not that she had ever seen a tree before today, but she was pretty sure that was what it was. There she took a few moments to assess the situation as she drew her blacksmith sniper. Vent and Ruben where safely in cover, but the last she had seen of Azura and the boss had been them going down. Her worries that they might have been hit were quickly quashed as first Arura started singing, shunting her out of the serene lull she had not realized she had been in, and the boss started arguing with one or more people she could not hear. About not having any guns. So he had been planning to just punch the wariors. What an absolute madman.

Against her better judgment however, she decided to help him out despite the risks of giving a gun to a nutter. Grabbing her carrion pistol with her claw hand she leant out from behind her tree and lobbed it, with the safety on, towards the boss, aiming for it to land in front of him. In her opinion he should be thankful she didn't try and clonk him over the head with it.

”Boss! Got a gun for you.”

She really hoped she wasn't going to need that till he got a replacement, her scoped revolver might be powerful, but it wasn’t the kind of gun you used while on the move or in a dust-up. Or a snow-up in this case. She ducked back behind her cover, only to pop out the other side a moment later, blacksmith sniper held out at arm's length before her. The took careful aim for about a second, using the long scope mounted laser sight as a guide, and then pulled the trigger when the little red dot was firmly aimed at the center of a forsworn’s forehead. The hammer came down, followed by an amighty crack as the revolver fired, the deadly accurate shot soaring towards its target. Piper, however, did not wait to see the impact, instead taking cover again as the Cylinder rotated to bring to bring another cartridge to bear at the back of the barral, ready to be unleashed.

As she waited out any returned fire she took note of how vent was doing. The boy had seemingly gained a set of sturdy looking bright red armor out of nowhere, amor which was almost impossible to miss in the white wilderness they were fighting in. Quite a comparison the the almost invisible Azura, visible only because her singing gave you an idea of where to start looking. Whatever weapon he was using had a far better rate of fire than her sniper, blasting away at the forsworn with multiple three round bursts of laser fire, but he was spitting up his shots rather than focusing fire. So either they were each incredibly powerful or humans went down a lot easier than bots. Whatever the case, when she popped out from her hiding spot she avoided firing on those vent had to avoid the possibility of overkill, quickly lining up another headshot and, with a clack-bang, she let it fly towards another forsworn’s poorly protected face. Not wanting to sit around waiting for her tree to get annihilated by laser fire, and not wanting to find out if the laser gunners where a significant threat in melee combat as well, she subsequently gave ground, quickly sprinting further back into the knot of trees they were taking cover in, using the previous one for cover as best she could, before quickly hiding behind a fresh tree.

Piper was not, she had to admit, armed to deal with this many enemies, she was more a priority target kinda gal. She wished the grenade launcher and piercing laser armed Fen was here to clear out the goons, but she would have to make do with hoping the assault weapons of her comrades could do the job.

---

As the group of heroes appraised both each other and the situation in front of them, for the manor most certainly seemed manageable, the mist around them seemed to thicken as an eerie laugh echoed out around them "HEHEHEHEHE! You think finding me in my home will be so easy?" Then he appeared, the ghastly visage of King Boo himself as he floated around the group of heroes, taunting them to make a move. "You're about to find out why they call it King Boo's Castle instead of mansion, you fools!" Without warning, the front gates and doors flew open and a powerful vacuum sucked them in even as the mists lightened and King Boo disappeared.

As is only natural, the heroes would attempt to grab something to stay put, but anything they grabbed simply came with them and once the last of the group was in the doors, the slammed shut and King Boo's laugh echoed around them once more. "Let the games begin!" As the group picked themselves up and the candles around them lit up, they would find that the mansion was considerably larger inside than it was on the outside, with hallways stretching considerably further than physics should have allowed and more doors than there should have been room for. At the end of one hallway was a rather large room, far bigger than should have been possible, with many smaller Boos floating around in it. It quickly became apparent that they were going to need as much time as they could get at this rate.

---

GM Note: From now on, all players will be required to keep track of their word count. XP will be awarded every GM post. Be sure to check the XP hider to see how much XP your character earned. Remember to keep your CSes updated. I have seen players slack in keeping their XP up-to-date and they have lost XP points because of it. I didn't take the XP away from them, they just didn't keep track of the XP on their own. It is YOUR responsibility if you want your character to level.


If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Slayer, Akira, Heavy, and Six.

A sudden change in atmosphere brought Slayer's guard up, and with crossed arms the gentleman peered at the specter whose ghoulish face wafted among the vapors around him. He considered experimenting with a fiery punch to the royal apparition's laughter-filled mouth, but the lack of refinement that such an endeavor would suggest bade him push the notion aside. In front of his team, the gates flew open, and with a noise like a monster inhaling an irresistible force yanked the heroes forward, causing Slayer's face to turn from curiosity to annoyance. Not content to pull the would-be intruders onto the grounds, the vacuum persisted in dragging them across the lawn and then inside, giving each one without high defense a severe roughing-up. After tumbling a few feet when the wind subsided, Slayer wound up in a casual position laying on his side, propped up on his elbow. Around him, candles sparked to life in eerie manner, illuminating an interior gloomy and ominous as it was deceptively big. ”I've had a sudden feeling that today won't be so enjoyable, after all.”

He picked himself up and dusted himself off, noting with a sour look the new scuff marks all over his fine clothing. For a few seconds he conducted a physical examination on himself, both to make sure that he'd suffered no injury and to stretch out for the exercise to come.

On the basest level, this castle did not live up to the dimensions its exterior implied, which suggested some form of active distortion. If it were consistent, and the place was merely larger, then the task would be marginally more difficult, but Slayer worried that this place's interior might be mutable according to its deathly denizens' whims. He'd have to assume the former, or no plans he made would be of any use at all. So long as the main doorway stood nearby for reference, even this plethora of doors and hallways didn't seem too unmanageable, but Slayer ruminated that once any interloper took a few turns and things started all looking the same, becoming lost in this physics-defying space would become a serious issue. And who knew what could happen to someone who spent too much time in this place? Traps, monsters, and boredom could very well be the least of a hero's concerns. ”Blasted spirits. There's an etiquette for how to treat guests, very simple. We'll have to treat you in kind.” Turning to address his group, he held up a hand as he spoke his mind. ”So, we've got a potential labyrinth on our hands. In this sort of situation I've seen a fair few people split up, and seldom has it ever ended well for them. At the very least, if we do decide to try and cover more ground ought to have teams of two. It'd be wise to making markings or leave a trail to show where we've been and find our way back; if we get lost, I expect these ghosts'll have a field day with us. For now though, we might as well stay together to see about that big room up ahead. If you have any ideas or strategies, tell me as we walk.” Placing his hands in his pockets, he set off down the main hall toward the sizable, boo-infested room.

As the moon took his beating, surprisingly well if she was honest, she was already moving in another direction, auto rifle fire falling on the moon even as he recovered. The way he was caught off guard, he almost seemed as though the concept of actually fighting numerous opponents at once had never crossed his mind. Perhaps because that strange pink puff ball is the official hero of this realm. He...didn't look like he had any kind of help in winning against these guys... Still, he was already proving fairly formidable, still standing despite the wounds he'd just taken and even going back at his celestial opposite despite his insults. However, the giant razor sharp blades of moonlight? Yeah, that was not something she was prepared for, despite her own adventures. She rolled as Frisk called for the group to watch out, dropping her now empty magazine and replacing it with a new one, but as she did so, something both unsurprising and terrifyingly ill-timed happened.

Frisk called for Alicia to not attack the moon while he tried to talk it down, a notion that, given how determined he was to kill them all, seemed somewhat out of left field and most definitely not sane. "You want me to what?! What part of these guys-" But it was already too late as their child leader once more moved in for their signature talk down as the Titan is forced to turn, swapping the Doctrine of passing for the Bolt-Caster at the sound of the blade coming back towards her and spinning to face it, blocking and catching the blade on her sword. Of course their leader would go and over-complicate what was already in the clear; that these two weren't interested in surrendering, they were only out to protect their king. Albeit a king lost to madness, poor soul.

Still, holding back the assault of the blade was taking it's toll on the Stalwart and when she was eventually forced to move out of it's path again, albeit grudgingly, she would call out, "Frisk, move!"

Akira frowned as the atmosphere changed in a matter of seconds. He couldn't say he was too worried about what was going on, seeing as he was almost always calm, cool, and collected, but he still held some form up guard up, in the form of placing a hand on his mask, furrowing his brows in anticipation for the worst. What they were greeted with was none other than the owner of the mansion... well castle now, King Boo was it? He had the thought of attacking and falling for the taunts the round ghost was pulling, but he ultimately went against it, since his physical weapons wouldn't do much against this kind of enemy.

Before he had much of a chance to react to anything else, the double gates swung open without warning, pulling the whole group, even Heavy, into the premises like a a vacuum. Akira tried to compensate for this by lowering his body closer to the ground, but this only made things worse, as his rather light stature and almost curled up posture sent him flying into the caste around the same time Six entered, groaning and hissing as he was completely at the will of this unstoppable force.

Ending up like a pancake flat on his back, Akira let out a quiet groan as he slowly sat up, rubbing his head to rid the dull ache that now resided in it. Opening his eyes to take a look at what they were dealing with, Akira could only frown in annoyance. Great, just great. Big, spooky, and scary... just what he needed in his life. His face showed neutral emotion despite how annoyed and embarrassed he felt after being tossed around like a rag doll; why couldn't he have at least stuck the landing like Slayer did? ...Now wasn't the time to be thinking about these things, however, as he slowly pulled himself back up, nodding in agreement to Slayer's words while checking to make sure he still had all his equipment.

Listening on after Slayer mini ranted on the ghosts and how they were suppose to treat them kindly, the man claimed that they should move as one unit before deciding what to do next. Followed behind, but slightly to the left of Slayer, Akira placed a gloved had to his chin, allowing his thoughts to take over his mind. Back at home, he was use to having multiple people to work with and switch around on teams depending on the situation. One group of four would investigate first and take care of the monsters while the second group of four followed closely behind. It made things easier to take care of since he could just have his party members switch on the fly. But with three other people he knew almost nothing about, Akira was unsure of what to do. However he did know one thing.
"Yeah, let's not split up. Having a core of four is good. Once we figure out what works on them and what doesn't we can use that information to our advantage and decide on what to do next from there." Akira mused before lowering his head, already growing tired of the scenery that plagued the group...

Shantae watched the dark figure from hiding spot, but she turned to face the person behind her when she felt a large finger tap her on her very small monkey shoulder. She turned to see that it was the same soldier from before. She heard his words, and she gave him a look of disbelief and confusion while holding out her arms as though to silently exclaim with incredulity, "What?!"

That wasn't the plan! The plan was NEVER to fight the shady figure. It was just to simply tail him and watch him! She knew better than to start a fight in the middle of the fight (unless it already started and she needed to finish it).

Oh yeah! The shady figure!

When she looked back, the figure was already running off. Her little monkey jaw dropped when she saw how fast he was going and how he used the rooftops. Well, her monkey form can climb easier than her human/genie form can and it was faster, but still...

Then her attention was drawn to the airship above the castle. She widened her eyes and let out a quiet monkey screech while pointing at it, as though to tell the soldier behind her, "Over there! Come on, let's go!" and she took off running towards the castle in her monkey form (on all fours). She remained in her monkey form, because she had a feeling that they may run into the cloaked figure again, and it might be wise to not clue him in that the people he was eavesdropping on were tailing him.

Heavy's 'sharp' senses - surprisingly no way hampered by years of bloody abuse of violence and death around him - , made the Russian brute turn his head towards the ghastly laugh aimed at them. The rest of Heavy's limbs followed in quick succession towards the spectral voice, if only he had been able to exactly pin-point its location; it appeared to echo all around him, surrounding him and his teammates, mocking them. And then it appeared; He appeared. The Ghost King, floating around them, doing what Heavy could only describe as taunting them. "Stop and fight me then, coward! Make job easy for us!" Heavy shouted at King Boo, throwing a heavy punch towards the ghost, but to no avail as his fist was pulled off his target.

And not just his fist. All of him was sucked away from King Boo towards the mansion…castle…thingy building, alongside the others. In a moment of desperation, Heavy grabbed hold of a small shrubbery, but only managed to pull the little green tree with him. "Oh no!" And like that, Heavy flew through the air like a lifeless ragdoll of a man he had previously shot to death with a certain secret weapon, uncontrollably waving his arms around in hopes of grabbing hold of something else solid, or even someone. But all he got hold of was the cold, wooden floor of the mansion as he hit it hard, face first.

"Oughf!"

Heavy Weapon's Guy could taste something in his mouth. His first thought was blood, but he vividly knew the actual taste of it, and this was different. As he pushed himself off the floor he came to realize what it was; a mix of green leaves from the shrubbery and dust from the floor. His face was covered in both, which he annoyingly brushed off; he had had worse. Heavy looked around him as he stood back up on his feet, taking in the contradicting reality around him. The mansion had looked big from the outside, but this big? Then again he could simply have gotten hit on the head, like always, and see funny things? Who knew?

"Labyrinth? I thought this was castle…mansion?" Heavy's confused words appeared to echo through the first room, which had out of thin air been lit by candles. They only made the scene spookier, if Heavy had felt scary at all; this only made him be further on his guard. Heavy listened to Slayer's plan; go together in the beginning through the spooky mansion, and perhaps then split up. Akira piped up as well, agreeing on Slayer's idea , which reinforced Heavy's approval of what his friends planned ahead."I think going together is good idea, Comrade Slayer and Comrade Joker. More difficult to have ghost sneak up behind. They better not make me and Sasha angry, baby ghosts." Heavy replied to their 'leader' and the mask-wearing teenager, unholstering his beloved Sasha and checking her over as he followed Slayer down the main hall.

"But what are ghost afraid of? Sandwiches? What about Six? Pumpkin man said something about our 'young one' being our best choice?"

It was unlikely that the Boss realized just how close he came to engaging the undefended men in front of him. The unit of men in front of them may have lowered their guard, falling just as quickly under its power as the rest of the group, but they were still considered an enemy force. They were soon joined by five more, one giving off the appearance of authority. They didn't appear to be any better equipped that the others, but the party was now outnumbered three to one. It really did not matter whether they were influenced by magic or not. Ruben had already returned to a shooting stance, his finger resting just outside the trigger guard. He adjusted his aim to focus on the newly arrived leader. One of the most effective tactics in combat is to eliminate the figure of authority quickly. This was no exception. The Boss's order may not have contained the word "fire" but the soldier was prepared to consider it a technicality at this point. His breathing slowed and his index finger placed the slightest bit of pressure on the trigger.

Something moved.

Ruben's eyes flickered to the side, checking the whirl of color in his peripheral vision. It was followed soon after by war cries and, to his surprise, laser fire. Colored beams streaked by them, burning holes in the snow and slicing limbs off of trees. They didn't appear to be associates with the first group of enemies, unless they were prone to firing indiscriminately at anything that moved. Everyone took cover. Ruben paused for a moment, turning to analyze where his teammates were moving. The blue-haired songstress was flat on the ground. The other two were heading for tree cover. The Boss was behind a large rock. The new enemy force was armed with ranged weapons, meaning anyone could be engaged at any time. Ruben selected a low slab of rock situated in the center of the field, withing throwing distance of the patch of trees being used as cover, as the best position. Ignoring the hiss of enemy fire as it smashed into the landscape around him, he sprinted hard for the rock, diving over it and spinning around to lay flat on his stomach. He slid forward and planted his body against it, taking a moment to slow his breathing, then glanced over the top.

Twenty men, clothed in leather and rawhide and armed with projectile energy weapons. They were even less well-defended than the previous force, which had since taken cover behind everything and anything they could find. He ducked back behind cover, then raised the rifle and fixed the scope on the nearest of them, allowing the optic to do the math. He decided to cut the necessary ammunition back to one per target. Assuming his aim was good, he wouldn't even need to reload.

Three laser rounds whizzed past him, followed by the crack of what sounded like an old rifle. His team was returning fire. Ruben readjusted his aim, focusing instead on the farthest target and letting the hit percent rise. A laser round clipped the edge of his cover, incinerating a small chunk of the stone. He dropped back for a moment, then raised himself to a kneeling stance. The crosshairs reappeared and the rifle hard locked onto the farthest of them. Another one crossed in between them, giving Ruben a lovely opportunity to hit two targets at once. He took a breath, then squeezed the trigger, sending five rounds downrange in a faction of a second. He dropped back behind his cover immediately and scanned the rest of his team for injury. It was unlikely that the trees they were behind would outlast more than one good hit. Thinking quickly, Ruben unlatched the smoke grenade from his belt and watched the treeline. If anyone lost their cover, he could use it to disguise their position, allowing for movement to a better vantage point or retreat if necessary.

But he wasn't going to use it without orders.