---

Guile was lying in the arms of Rosalina. His Army-green tank was torn across his chest, and his crimson blood was seeping into the fabric. His hand clutched the wound. Streams of blood were spilling from the corners of his mouth as he gazed through wide, desperate eyes at the short, retreating figure.

Meta Knight’s cape twisted in the breeze of his gait as he left the Street Fighter clinging to life. Ahead of him were Waddle Dees and Doos dressed cutely in pirate and sailor clothes. They poked at the cowardly Moneybags, pressing him to continue on to the end of the hall where they would all be warped out. A Waddle-Dee was also carrying the Bodysnatcher’s bag.

Morvin Solus was lying on his side unconscious amidst sparks and hanging wiring. The project he had been working on was completely sabotaged.

“Don’t let them take me!” Moneybags begged. “Ouch!”

A Waddle-Dee pirate poked his furry behind with his sword.

Guile rested the bloodied hand that had been holding his wound on the floor. Teeth grit angrily, the Street Fighter attempted to rise but Rosalina wrapped her arms around him.

“Guile! Please stop!” she pleaded.

“Traitor!” Guile roared after Meta Knight. “You made a mistake not finishin’ me off!”

“Stop Guile!”

Her Lumas were using all of their energy to keep the Street Fighter alive. Meta Knight didn’t hesitate to turn or even acknowledge Guile’s declaration.

In Platform City, the cloaked individual gazed up at the flying Halberd (the ship). He dropped to all fours, quickening his sprint from roof top to roof top.

As Bentley pointed out the strange ship, Sparx glanced at the remaining members of the group. “An important guest?” he questioned. He then fluttered out the window and turned to face the others. “I think I’m the fastest. I will tail that guy so we don’t lose him. Just look for me!”

The dragonfly darted off in a bee-line, flying over the roof tops after the retreating figure and making sure he was flying high enough so that those pursuing him could find him. The dragonfly’s bright body was like a yellow star.

---

The Stormcloaks remained grounded. The Nords thought for sure that they had made a fatal mistake leaving the fortress until the group that they had once thought were enemies returned fire. One of them transformed into a steel god and began firing back upon the Forsworn. The Dwarven machine produced ranged technology that they believed only Dwarves could make and likewise returned fire. The blue witch sang an enchanting melody that filled their once calm blood with a vigorous energy. The Stormcloaks were in awe and watched as the enemy began to dwindle beneath their firepower.

The overconfident Forsworn were being picked off left and right by enemies they had never seen before. When the largest and strongest in their group collapsed like trees in the snow with their brains exploding behind them, without much of an organized leader, the Forsworn started to retreat. Eleven of their soldiers fell in the snow, leaving behind the valuable technology that the Stormcloaks had lacked. Ulfric saw this and waited until all the Forsworn had ceased fire and retreated before he rose off the ground and ordered to his men, “Go grab as much of those weapons as you can carry!”

The Stormcloaks grunted in acknowledgement and quickly rose off of their bellies to race over to the fallen loot. Ulfric then walked over to the mysterious soldiers, gazing them over as though he were surveying beings that shouldn’t exist. After a momentary pause, he spoke, “Thank you. I thought for certain we had fallen into their trap. For days we have been holed up in the fortress, waiting for the Forsworn to inevitably take us. Now that you are here, we have a chance to drive them out of Markarth. Then again…” Ulfric frowned in thought. “There are few of you than there are in Markarth. The Forsworn are not the real threat. It is the machine gods who provide them with weapons, but let us not delay. Come, we shall return to the fortress and continue our talk there.”

The Stormcloaks returned holding the weapons dropped by the Forsworn. They held them like tree branches unsure how to properly hold or wield them. They followed after their lord, the Nords moving swiftly for no one could determine how soon the enemy would attack again. As the party began to move out, their march was halted by a thunderous sound…

The shout seemed to shake the land. Stormcloak, hero, and the steel gods were able to hear the eldritch power that resonated from the mountains. Ulfric held out his arms. His eyes frantically darted about. He had thought they had been attacked by the steel gods. As the shout faded into a quiet echo, Ulfric calmed and turned back to face the group.

He reassured them, “That shout was not our enemy. It is a power that I thought I would never hear in my lifetime. I had heard only stories of it until now. That voice was The Greybeards. They are calling for one of you…As much as I would like for the five of you to stay together, I am not foolish enough to have you ignore the call of the Greybeards. They have taken interest in one of you. I do not know who but they are calling you to High Hrothgar. The journey is cold, arduous, and filled with danger. Whoever chooses to make the ascent, I cannot nor my men accompany you.”

Ulfric turned back toward the fortress. “Think about your decision. I can show whoever decides to go a way to get there in the fortress.”

---

Enemies Killed: 11
Total Enemies Survived: 9
Forsworn
Location: Withdrawn



GM Note: The Greybeards call for one. Decide as a team who should go. The mission will be a side mission separate from the main, but the player will return later to participate in the main mission. 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.

A heavy weapon splashed in the snow next to him. Boss glanced over at the weapon and then over at the red robot who was kind enough to lend him her sidearm until the two nerds back on the ship were finished fighting.

“Now we’re talking!” Boss excitedly exclaimed as he grabbed the weapon and took up an unsupported position. By the time he gazed down the sights, he saw that the Forsworn were already turning tail. The keen fire from the armed members of his team sent them running like cowards. “Really?” he irritably grumbled. “I didn’t get a chance to shoot anyone!”

He then stood from behind the rock he had been taking cover behind and brushed the ice crystals from his green Christmas sweater. The president continued to watch the tribesmen shrink into the white distance before he glared left and right at his team.

“You guys could have at least saved me some. Shit.”

It wasn’t like they were out-numbered and trying to protect not only themselves but those with unsuitable weapons. Suddenly, strange cybernetic squares began to materialize before the Boss. The squares pieced together gradually forming into what appeared to be a rifle. Boss reached out to grasp the weapon by the pistol grip as it solidified in his hand. The gun that had finished forming was an unusual contraption with purple, orange, and green tubes. Lowering the weapon, he walked over to Piper and handed her back her pistol.

“Thanks even though I didn’t get a chance to use it.”

Boss’s attention was then grabbed by the approach of who he assumed to be Ulfric. He arched a brow at the man, wanting outright to ask who you is? but he refrained. He wasn’t entirely an idiot. As Ulfric beckoned them to follow him, Boss held up his rifle and the weapon vanished into an unseen weapon’s locker on his person. He jogged over to the head Stormcloak and introduced himself, “I’m the Boss of this Motley…uh…I mean…The Crew. The machine gods you speak of…I haven’t seen them, but I’m sure they’re just some dumb robots we can quickly scrap. We’ll get Mario Kart back to you soon. It’ll be no sweat!”

Boss. It’s Markarth.

“What was that?” he asked, apparently looking up at the heavens as though speaking to some god (at least he appeared that way to the Stormcloaks).

Markarth.

“That’s what I said. Markarth.”

You said Mario Kart.

“No I didn’t. Why would I fucking say that? That’s so stupid. That’s not even the right game.”

You said Mario Kart you dumbass!

“Kinzie; I’m-I’m losing you. I’m-I can’t-I’m…”

…I know you can still hear me.

Out of nowhere, a thunderous sound ripped through the sky and shook the land like a massive earthquake.

“JESUS!” Boss exclaimed as he dropped to the ground.

What made it more frightening was that it hadn’t been just a loud boom, but a voice shouting in some creepy gibberish followed. As everything fell quiet after its passing, Boss cautiously returned to his feet, his wide eyes glancing about his surroundings. Ulfric then explained that what they had heard were The Greybeards.

“Greybeards? Like geezers?” Boss questioned in confusion. Ulfric then talked about some great journey to go see them that would be just as cold, difficult, and full of danger than fighting tribesmen obsessed with deer fashion. As Ulfric resumed his walk toward the fortress, Boss turned around to face his crew and said, “You guys can go ahead and count me out. Climbing up some dangerous mountain to see some creepy old guys is not my thing. It’s fucking cold here. The sooner we turn these bots into scrap, then the sooner we can go home. This mountain journey has nothing to do with our mission and it sounds like a complete waste of time.”

Ability: Flight

Cloud, Alicia, and Kazooie focused down their lunar adversary before he could get a chance to properly rebound, stacking each of their attacks on top of the other. The combined assault more than sufficed in visibly (and quite literally) chipping away at him, forcing him on the defensive surprisingly early into the battle. Noticeably worried by the realization that he had already been wounded, Bright hurriedly attempted to conceal it to no avail, and his so-called “partner” offered him nothing in the way of reassurance with his discouraging mockery, which in all likelihood only served to further exacerbate the moon’s frustration. In fact, Shine seemed to be rooting against his own “partner” in anticipation for his own turn, apparently failing to realize that Bright’s downfall would be directly tantamount to his own, as he would be left confront all of them alone and unaided. More tactical minds would conclude that the adversarial lack of cooperation between Mr. Shine and Mr. Bright would prove to be the instrument of said downfall, but to the bear and breegull, who spent the better half of their lives working together as best friends, it was both inconceivable and unacceptable.

However, it did proved to be ironically--if unintentionally--helpful in its own way, as Mr. Shine, in his bout of derisive laughter, began pouring tears of cinder onto the battlefield below him. Banjo did his best to evasively sidestep the downpour so as not to catch fire whilst still trying to keep some focus on Mr. Bright. The verbal telegraphy of loudly, dramatically announcing his incoming attack made that easy enough. Banjo peered slightly over his shoulder at the swirling blade of moonlight rapidly closing in on his back-right flank, and with a brief window to respond, the duo swung arm and wing upward to Flap Flip over the boomerang as it made its pass while turning mid-jump to land facing in Mr. Shine’s direction. As feet touched down, wings went up, and with a low chirp from Kazooie to signal, she flapped them forcefully, sending her and Banjo soaring upward with a trail of glistening red light marking their ascent.

The familiar sensation of flight was one lost on her over the years that she had long missed, but she wouldn’t be able to fully relish in it just yet. At the moment, they had allies to protect and two bosses to pummel into submission, and seeing as she particularly enjoyed the latter, it more than made up for not having the moment to herself to enjoy recovering part of her old self again. She would start this off with four ‘celebratory’ shots at Mr. Shine to divert his attention from the goings-on at ground-level, and then banked left away from him, hoping to draw his gaze. All the while, her and Banjo would be sure both to keep an alternating eye between them on their allies as well, just in case they came under sudden need for air support at any point during the battle.

Even with her low vantage point, Azura quickly became aware of the firepower her new allies possessed. Taking the enemies, too self-sure in their newfound armament to be cautious, by surprise, the heroes routed the Forsworn in just a couple minutes. When the bombardment stopped and the songstress deemed it safe to rise from the snowy bed where she’d thrown herself, she spotted a number of fresh carcasses starting to frost over where they fell. She found herself giving a nod of acknowledgment. “These advanced projectile weapons seem to increase the pace of battle several fold. They kill with…frightening efficiency.” One could only shudder when imaging such weapons introduced into her world. In the wrong hands, they could lead to slaughter on an unprecedented scale. Now more than ever, Azura felt determined to bring the confluence of worlds to an end.

Around her, the Stormcloaks hustled about, gathering the fallen equipment. Though none of them seemed to notice Azura except to move around her when she happened to block one’s path, she hastened to escape the commotion and join the group gathering around the warriors’ leader, Ulfric. She responded to his proposal of retirement to the fortress with a nod, and prepared to follow him. Only then came the crashing sound of thunder to split the sky, yet without any lightning in sight. Azura froze when a chorus of ethereal voices followed the thunderclap, the words rolling across the land in an unfamiliar tongue. Bemused and alarmed, the songstress looked to Ulfric for explanation, and once he had the heroes’ attention he obliged them. Eyebrows furrowed, Azura listened in rapt attention.

The Stormcloaks’ commander did not give an explicit declaration about the Greybeards themselves, but his reverent tone spoke of some great authority, one seldom seen or heard but respected nonetheless. From the name, Azura pictured a conclave of old sages, and from the magnificence of their Shout she could intuit that they possessed power to back up their perceived status. To her, the answer seemed clear; to put down the foreign threat facing this world, the heroes needed every advantage, and could not afford to ignore a call from such an important group. It appeared, however, that not everyone shared her sentiments. After spending a few minutes in an irrelevant debate with his handler, and then finally falling silent through the explanation, the President decided to interject that he wouldn’t help in the slightest. What else is new? Azura barely contained her disdain, instead taking the path of a reasonable explanation. ”Boss, these ‘Greybeards’ are clearly more important than a group of ancient civilians. Ulfric spoke of them almost like gods. Since we would encounter danger anywhere we go, Hrothgar or Markarth, it would be wise to heed the call of this authority. They might be able to give us vital information, or a way to defeat the ‘Steel Gods’.” She leaned on her lance, glancing around for support among the other heroes. “Given our situation, ignorant of this world and our enemy, we should take every advantage we can. Even if the Boss would rather sit this journey out, we have been summoned, and should answer.”

Vent didn't let up even as the Forsworn retreated, firing after them less in an effort to kill them and more in an effort to discourage them from turning around and resuming their now obviously futile attack, the laser rounds pinging on the ground all around them and whizzing past their heads until they were out of range and then out of sight. The Mega Man sighed a breath of relief as they vanished, but as the Stormcloaks rushed forwards to secure the now fallen Maverick weapons, a part of him grew apprehensive. The weapon design was eerily similar to several of Mavericks he'd faced in his fights back home, though there were several that were foreign to him.

Not only that, but their familiarity only confirmed that these "Steel Gods" were indeed Mavericks of some kind, though he had to wonder if they might be from a separate timeline, or even from his world's past. This...could be trouble. But saying something serves no purpose, especially since I'm not sure of how strong they are... In a word like this, even the weakest of Mavericks would be akin to a god, slaying the humans here left and right with ease since their armor didn't seem proficiently strong to stop the blasts, if the way Ulfric and his "Stormcloaks" took cover was any indication. Still, to produce the weapons required at least a Pseudoroid level of strength, which would prove it's own unique challenge, as they had not only powerful weapons, but also powerful abilities that might prove difficult to handle for some of his teammates.

Then there was the part of him that wanted to stop the Stormcloaks and destroy the weapons outright, regardless of whether or not their allies could use the edge to even out the odds. They didn't belong here, in this world or in the hands of barbaric psychopaths who have no issues turning them on their fellows. But he knew that stripping their allies of a sorely needed even playing field was wrong, so he compromised with himself. He started to open his mouth to offer to teach the Stormcloaks how to safely wield and carry the weapons the the booming voices echoed through the land. Vent's reaction was similar to the Boss's, who's remark about leaving some of the enemy alive for him he ignored, and dove for cover, the ZX Blaster free of it's place on his leg and waiting for an attack that never came.

Instead, once silence had returned and Vent had relaxed and reholstered his Blaster, Ulfric offered both an explanation and a warning of what going meant. As was apparently expected at this point, the Boss declined going and said they would be wasting their time. From the Mega Man's personal experience in other parts of even his own world, only a fool ignored the summons of people who seemed as powerful and important to this world as the Greybeards. Asura verbally voiced this sentiment, though in much kinder, and many more, words that he himself felt like using. However, he knew more about the potential of the Steel Gods than the others, but with as uncertain as to their origin as he was, he had nothing truly helpful to offer. Instead, he did the next best thing.

"Then I'll go. You four can stick to our primary mission and I should still be able to communicate with you if the need arises. I agree ignoring the summons of these Greybeards is foolish, especially since we know only what Vault Boy offered us of the area." Of course, he wasn't sure that Piper wouldn't offer to go as well, but he felt reasonably sure that Ruben would stick to his orders, as he had so far proven to do.

---

As the group walked, the very floors seem to wave, though the motion was far from sickening or causing them to loose their footing. The sounds of Boos laughing echoes through the halls, but telling just how far away it was, even as the large room grew closer. However, something that would soon begin to stick out is that the more distance they put between themselves and the front door, the more the light seemed to only focus around them, except for a few very widely spaced candles. It would seem that not even light played by it's usual rules in this strange place, and hopefully wouldn't prove to be an issue further on.

Eventually, one of the Boos in the large room noticed the group, but rather than attacking, they panicked and covered their faces with their pointed hands and freezing in place. At the edge of the room, it soon became apparent that the bottom of this room was...bottomless? And the only way across was dimly lit platforms that they had to jump to, along with tables that sprouted lights from their candles and began to move around. As soon as Slayer turned his back on the Boos, one began to move towards him, a wicked grin on its face, but it panicked once more when the Vampire turned back to face it, hiding it's face behind it's pointed hands again.

---

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.

Cloud frowned when he saw the moon sit upright. He didn’t know why he thought that the celestial being would have been vanquished so soon. He glanced up at the sun who began to ridicule the moon on burning tears. The ex-SOLDIER broke into a sprint to get out from under the fire shower that singed the pseudo-earth and drew his purple blade. He charged toward the spinning beam of light that flew like a lethal disc toward him and Banjo-Kazooie. The bear and bird acrobatically flipped into the air as the disc passed beneath them. The blonde swordsman raised his blade. His offhand went to support the flat side of the sword and caught the whirling disc that sparked and flashed like a saw against it. He dug the balls of his booted feet into the grass. The spinning force of the blade caused his soles to drag back across the giving turf. Cloud bore his teeth, face tensing from the inhuman strength he began to apply in return.

Frisk called to him and Banjo-Kazooie, directing their attention to the cocky star in the sky. Cloud noticed Banjo and Kazooie were already flying toward the chuckling sphere. He felt his arms growing weaker. He could feel the burn and numb of muscle failure creeping along them as the vibrations from the lunar blade whipped through his hands. Cloud’s head lowered as his jaw tensed. Hold it…he told himself. He was watching the flying team above, waiting for the right moment.

As soon as Kazooie fired four eggs at Mr. Shine, Cloud dropped his heels and forced the lunar blade back with a grunt before quickly bringing his offhand to the hilt of his Butterfly Edge. He brought the blade arching upwards, connecting with the lunar blade and sending it whirling like a Frisbee toward the sun.

---

After releasing his sickles of cosmic death, Mr. Bright was surprised to find that the child had avoided his ultimate attack. The soldiers however appeared to struggle against their glorious lunar might. When Frisk approached him, Mr. Bright frowned in caution, raising his gloved fists as though he was ready to throw a punch if he felt compelled. Instead of attack, the child chose to speak to him. Mr. Bright’s eyes widened at two things Frisk had said. Don’t want to fight? That was ridiculous. They were supposed to fight. But the Senior Bros went on vacation?

Mr. Bright scowled. “I am supposed to fight. It is my destiny. Even though your group isn’t our one true enemy, we were ordered by Emperor of the Entire World Dedede to not let anyone pass to the lower floors. The Senior bros have committed treason by letting you pass! I will not make the same mistake!”

The moon thrust out his hand to call the lunar blade that Alicia was struggling with, but he hesitated in the same instant when he noticed Banjo and Kazooie were attacking Mr. Shine. The sun had been too busy laughing at Mr. Bright to notice the four eggs that cracked against the side of his burning head. Mr. Shine winced in pain and first turned to look at the flying bear and bird (bears could fly?) only to see them bank out of the way of a lunar blade that went flipping straight into his eye. The sickle pierced the sun’s face, passing through his left eye and embedding itself in his head.

“AAARGH! MY FACE!” Mr. Shine screamed as he tumbled toward the grassy floor. He fell like a bowling ball, striking the ground and rolling in his pain. “GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!”

The room became divided in light and darkness once the two celestial forms were grounded. On the left side of the room was a cooler climate and the sky was riddled with stars. On the right side, Mr. Shine and his burning anger began raising the temperature. The grass was beginning to turn from green to black in the heat of his temper.

Mr. Bright then finally tugged the lunar blade from Alicia and the spinning sickle passed by Frisk without impaling the child from behind (which had been his original intention). The moon caught the blade with ease, pinching its pointy edge between his thumb and finger. His eyes were wide as he gazed upon Mr. Shine, rolling in agony. Memories of the star harassing and fighting him as they waited for Kirby caused a hot and excitable metaphorical blood to flow through his nonexistent veins. Mr. Bright’s offhand clenched, restraining the joy he felt. He could finish the bastard off…

The moon’s eyes were shining at the opportunity. He waved his hand at Frisk. “Step aside.”

Holding his lunar blade, the moon marched toward Mr. Shine who had rolled onto his knees and scowled up at Mr. Bright.

“This is your fault! If you weren’t throwing your stupid blades around with shit accuracy then this wouldn’t have happened!”

Mr. Bright said nothing as he continued to close the distance between him and Mr. Shine. Mr. Shine then noticed the look in his eyes and smirked. A sadistic giggle left the sun as he rose to his feet despite the crescent moon sticking out of his face. “Oh, I see. You wanna kill me is that it? All those beatings I gave you got your Saturn in a twist? You can’t beat me, you bright loser.”

Mr. Shine brought the heels of his hands together and motioned his hands to his side. Solar energy swirled in a bright orange spiral against his palms, collecting in a sphere. Mr. Bright stopped and raised his lunar blade defensively. Mr. Shine chuckled hysterically. “I’M GONNA FINISH YOU OFF AND THEN I’M GOING TO INCINERATE THIS ENTIRE ROOM! HAA~!”

Thrusting out his palms, a fiery beam of concentrated solar energy and plasma extended toward Mr. Bright. Mr. Bright caught the beam against his lunar blade and pressed his hand against the flat end. Baring his teeth, he could feel the power of the sun beginning to heat up his weapon. Orange cracks started to appear across the crescent blade as moon fragments began to crumble free.

“AH HA HA HA HA!” Mr. Shine continued to chaotically laugh through his pain and sadistic excitement.

---

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.

It was rather cathartic to send her foes running for once, rather than having to book a hasty retreat with her gang, hauling their stolen swag on their backs, in order to avoid being overrun by ever increasing waves of reinforcements. Not that it looked like she would be seeing much of the loot this time with their allies descending upon the fallen Forsworn’s like thirsty miners on a freshly discovered ice seam. Still, she got one thing out of the end of the encounter, and that was her carrion pistol back from the boss. He now sported a bizarre contraption that was probably a gun, though how it worked when the barrels had loop de loops in them she had no idea.

“Thanks even though I didn’t get a chance to use it.”

”Your welcome. They sure weren't expecting us huh Boss.” She said jovially as she clicked the crude safety of the handgun back on and carefully slipped it back in her hip pouch. After a brief detour to loot a mostly intact headdress off one of their defeated enemies, which quickly disappeared off to her crew’s hat collection, she joined the others to talk to Ulfric. From him they learned the odds they were up against and where invited to join him in his fortification, but before they could take him up on his offer a cacophonous sound rocked the landscape and Piper got her second encounter with magic, second both for to day and for her whole life. Having spent all her life in space Piper’s first though was that the sound meant that they had crashed into something, and braced herself for impact accordingly, only to remember that they were in fact on a planet, not ship or asteroid.

It took a few moments for everyone to figure out that they went about to die, after which she listened to the explanation of the country rocking PA System’s purpose and owners, as well as the follow up discussion about their interest in one of them.

”While I agree we should send someone, seeing as these Greybeards seem to have far reaching surveillance systems of some kind to have spotted us already, I think we should take into account that Ulfric thinks they have interest in one of us. If we send the wrong person then they just become a glorified messenger if they are picky about who they talk to or have some person specific boon to give. Now if I were to hazard a guess the person they are interested in is you, Azura”

She turned her focus from the group as a whole to the spear wielding songstress.

”Seeing as the rest of us mainly did some fancy shooting in that fight while you did something that I would call pretty special. I’ve certainly never seen anything like it. Plus, your singing and their shouting would seem to be in similar camp ability wise right? Imagine if you could use whatever sound system they just used to project your songs across this entire place, that alone could be a game changer for this mission.”

Frisk frowned at Mr. Bright's answer. The child couldn't help but feel sorry for the personified moon. Despite how miserable he seemed to be with Mr. Shine, he seemed to not have any idea of what he wanted beyond that destiny or what he was supposed to do. Before the child could even say anything, they too noticed how Banjo Kazooie attacked Mr. Shine, and how Cloud sent Mr. Bright's attack at Mr. Shine in an epic way! The personified sun was sent tumbling to the ground, which in turn caused the room to become half day and half night.

Frisk's attention was brought back to Mr. Bright when the sickle passed them harmlessly, causing their hair to flutter from the wind for a brief moment. They blinked in surprise when Mr. Bright simply told them to step aside, and they watched as Mr. Bright approached Mr. Shine. They were wide eyed as they watched the face off between the two celestial bodies. Frisk watched and listened patiently, and their worry grew when Mr. Shine cackled like a madman and threatened to kill Mr. Bright and incinerate the entire room.

As Mr. Shine focused his attack on Mr. Bright, Frisk called to the others, "Everyone! Focus your attacks on Mr. Shine!" Yes, it may have been a repetitive order, but 'everyone' meant including Alicia. The way Frisk saw this, Mr. Shine was a bigger threat, and was even less likely to be persuaded or dissuaded than Mr. Bright. As much as Frisk would love to find a way to SPARE them, it doesn't seem like it was going to happen here. And they can't just run like Frisk did when it came to Undyne and her refusal of their MERCY.

After they gave their command, they hit the ACT button, and hit CHECK and focused the action onto Mr. Shine. Considering that Mr. Shine was a bigger source of concern right now, it would be best to know what their condition was.

Ruben kept a bead on the enemy force as they retreated, letting off a final volley as they scattered. His rifle, while powerful, was woefully inaccurate at range, and at best he may have clipped one of them in the arm. Satisfied with two confirmed kills, he removed the magazine from his rifle and slid it into an empty slot on his belt. It still contained enough cartridges for two more bursts. He made a mental note as he slipped a fresh mag from another slot and slammed it into the magazine well with a satisfying click. He tugged the bottom, ensuring that the magazine was locked in place, and lowered the weapon to his side. He observed the other soldiers collect weapons from the enemy and realized that the weapons were not unlike those wielded by Sectoids he had encountered on Earth. Dr. Vahlen had requested collecting alien corpses and weapons for research to help give the planet an advantage. As far as he knew, XCOM hadn't developed any laser or plasma-based weaponry.

He looked at the Boss for approval, but decided that Vahlen took precedent. It may be a different world, but ultimately his allegiance would be to the XCOM initiative. If they hadn't transferred him, he wouldn't be here in the first place. If he didn't act soon, the others would claim all of the weapons and he wouldn't have access to anything. Besides, the Boss appeared to be in an argument with someone else. Wordlessly, he stepped away from the group and laid hands on the first laser rifle he could find. It was intact, unlike the weapons used by Sectoids that disintegrated on death. A complete rifle would be extremely valuable. Ignoring any complaints or protests from the locals, he flipped it over his shoulder and locked it onto his back. He would have to be content to carry his rifle in hand from here.

As he returned to the party, a thunder echoed over the landscape, shaking the ground. Ruben spread his feet and gripped his rifle, maintaining his balance and preparing for some kind of retaliatory attack. At this point, he didn't know what to expect. Fortunately, the event was explained by the leader of the other soldiers, whom Ruben had now concluded was the aforementioned Ulfric Stormcloak. Some form of supernatural shout made by "The Greybeards," apparently. They were calling for someone, though Ulfric did not know who and Ruben hadn't made out any names. The Boss was, fortunately, totally against the idea. He was right. This had nothing at all to do with the mission. Unfortunately, the rest of the party did not agree. Azura was the first to speak, and Ruben again thanked his training for helping him keep his mouth shut. He was thoroughly annoyed with her by now. She actively disobeyed orders (if they were even orders), she tried to surrender to an aggressive force, and she hid in the snow while the others returned fire. Now she was in favor of dispatching a member of the Crew to go somewhere and talk to someone about something.

Vent followed by volunteering himself and Piper volunteered Azura. There was a moment of silence as he realized the party was waiting for his input. For once, just once, he was going to offer an opinion, since they wanted one so bad and the Boss hadn't told them to stand down. He lifted the rifle and rested the barrel casually on his shoulder.

"Allow me to summarize," he said, loudly enough for everyone present to hear him clearly. "For anyone unfamiliar, we have been sent on a mission to investigate the situation, find out what happened in Markarth, and figure out what the steel gods were searching for. We were also told to meet a man named Ulfric Stormcloak and his militia.

"We were not briefed of Greybeards, High Rothgar, or any secondary missions or objectives. There are only four of us, and as the previous engagement has made clear, we are outnumbered and outgunned, and even then only three of the four returned fire. The remainder of you have, in light of this, suggested reducing the size of our party by sending one member to an unknown location to communicate with unknown individuals who speak an unknown language about an undisclosed subject. If my experience with the XCOM initiative has taught me anything, it is that you fight together. You do not split up, and you do not dispute with authority. Our party has been placed under the authority of the Boss and he has made it clear that this is irrelevant to the mission. If you were not prepared to funciton as a team, you should not have come.

"We have our orders. And orders," he said, returning the rifle to his front to grip it with his other hand and standing at attention, "are orders."

An expression as guarded as it was exasperated overtook Slayer as his group closed in on its target. Around them, the darkness had coalesced into an impenetrable haze with a clear border beyond which no light seemed to exist, save for similar well-defined circles of light around various candlesticks. The gentleman did not appear frustrated, however, until he needed to stop himself from stepping over the edge of a tremendous abyss where the floor of the central chamber should have been. A quick look down confirmed no end in sight, and the bothersome sight restriction left no suggestion of where to go for the moment. For want of an option the vampire looked around at the spherical, rather harmless-looking specters floating around. It took him but a moment to discern that when his gaze fell upon any one of their number, that ghost shied back, trying in vain to hide its scrunched-up face behind tiny, stubby arms. ”Bashful? Slayer ruminated aloud. An idea struck him, and -figuring that it couldn't hurt to try- he lashed out with a backhand into empty air, the speed of the blow igniting momentary purple flames.

”Hullo, fine spirits,” he greeted. ”You lot seem nice enough, so I'd rather that we part ways as civil acquaintances, but if you insist on hounding us I'll be forced to banish you to the afterlife with my Spectral Hellfire!” For a brief moment Slayer swapped out his calm, amicable face for a dangerous leer, but he could keep it up for a few seconds only. The thought of what he must have looked like made him want to chuckle, but for the sake of his bluff he steeled his countenance.

Crossing his arms and looking back into the void, Slayer noticed that what he assumed to be ghostly lights were in fact pitiful lights giving away the locations of a number of platforms, suspended above the darkness. The gentleman suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, and affected a resigned inclination of the head in its place. ”I suppose it can't be helped, hm, lads? Alley-oop!” Ruffling his dignified composure, Slayer leaped forward, windmilling his arms and legs no small amount. His mental calculations proved sufficiently sound when his pristine Oxfords tapped against his nebulous target's solid surface, and to an untrained eye the gentleman appeared to be perched upon the Stygian black itself. He beckoned to the others, though Heavy's physique did not fill him with confidence in terms of acrobatic accomplishment. ”No time to waste. If you need help making it the full distance, jump my way and reach for my hand. I shall catch you.” Heavy, of course, was the chief recipient of his offer, but it occurred to Slayer that Six might need a hand as well. Now that he thought of it, actually, he hadn't thought much of Six for some time now. He cast an eye around the feet of his comrades, searching for a spot of reflective yellow. Where could she have gone...?

The sudden change in Mister Bright's attention as he pulled his Lunar Blade away caused the Titan to follow both his and Frisk's gaze, although his words hadn't slipped his mind. Even if they turn on each other, he'll still turn on us. He's not interested in anything more than revenge and fulfilling his duty. In a way, she admired that about him, an understanding that he had been tasked with something and would do it no matter what. It was a quality valued in all Guardians, even though each of them went about completing that duty differently. Still, the moon themed villain had stated that he had no intention of letting them pass, and that made him a foe.

He observed the sun themed Mister Shine fall to the ground, the other Moon Blade, which Alicia had lost track of during her struggle with the one thrown at her and Frisk, resting inside the burning celestial body. "He's still alive after that? What kind of fucked up physics does this world play by?" However, the question was lost as he noticed the moon approaching and proceeded to ridicule him. Alicia reacted to it by bracing herself with her blade, waiting for the inevitable power attack that the sun would make.

After a silent moment, it did come, but not towards the heroes. The crazed and maniacal sun unleashed a blast of dual plasma against his lunar counter part, who blocked it with his one remaining blade. The Striker knew that the stalemate wouldn't last, but remained torn on who to attack first. Mister Bright had already proven himself susceptible to their attacks and had taken damage from them. But on the other hand, it was clear that Shine had no reservations about going all out, and even as the orange cracks appeared and Frisk called for them to focus on the sun, Alicia made a decision. Two discs of Arc energy collided with the side of the sun, crackling and unleashing their painful and powerful torrents into him, before her grenade bounced in front of him. After a slight delay, it would explode, blinding the sun as well as hurting him. "Hit him now!"

Through the door at the opposite end of the room from the escaping villains burst Naija, dripping wet and rather ticked off at having been woken from her slumber by the noise of the pirate attack. It took her only a few moments to take in the scene, from the wounded to the fleeing squad of thieves. Her instincts raged in a battle between the slaughterer and savior, but in the end the closer issue won out and she hopped to Gouil and rosalina’s side. Fishing though her inventory she retrieved some long life soup, a broth made from a variety of seafood meats and fungus cooked in tandem with her using the verse. It was suspended in a sealed bubble of air that acted was meant to protect the fluid from seawater contamination but up here mainly acted as a strange consumable bowl.

“Drink this Guile, it’ll regenerate your wounds” she told him, while keeping one eye on the retreating ball like warriors incase they turned back or if they remain long enough for her to strike at them once she had administered to the council member.



“Hold on, it’s not safe for you to go alone!” Taric shouted after Sparks as he flew up into the night. It was to little avail however, as the speedy insect was soon reduced a glowing dot in the night sky, leaving him and the turtle behind in the little room.

“By the protector this is a mess” Taric sighed with a hint of amusement as he turned from the window and headed for the door.

A few moments later the Taric burst out of the front door of the save point in and onto the street and began thundering up the road after Sparks, his own floating lights sailing after him as he passed by the ally way where the Guardian and Shante where in.

“Sparks has flown off after our shadowy figure!” he yelled at them as he passed by, expecting them to understand the danger that their little friend had put himself in as a result.

Then he rapidly disappeared from sight, the heavy footfalls of his armored boots heard thumping against the pavement as he weaved among the various pedestrians.

Of course, Spear Babe would have something to say about it. He didn’t know why he guessed that everyone just going along with what he said was too good to be true, but he did, and he was right. Boss crossed his green, wool-sweater sleeved arms before the snow on his chest and did his best to actually listen to what she had to say. As she dragged on about Greybeards and why she felt they were important, he found his attention going places. She’s cute when she’s so passionate. I shouldn’t have missed that dinner. I wonder what were gonna have for dinner later. It better not be those damn fish sticks again. All you got to do is microwave them and somehow someone always burns them. I bet it was Pierce…

At the mention of his name a second time, Boss’s eyes fluttered as he refocused his attention on her. She felt they were summoned for a reason? “We can find out after the mission. That way, we can let those who want to leave leave and those who want to stay and go on this old fuck’s quest, can do so.”

The power ranger wanted to go? Boss scowled at Vent. “Are you serious? You’re our team’s firepower. Why would you handicap us so you can go on some journey without even knowing why, and then contributing to the failure of our mission? Aren’t you like a robot or some shit? I thought robots were supposed to be smarter than everybody else.”

Robot Chick added her two cents, and he honestly agreed with her-it. Robots didn’t have a gender, psh. She wanted to send the sorcerer songstress up the mountain. It didn’t seem safer than sticking with the team and she didn’t really offer much firepower in the last firefight. She sang her songs but those songs didn’t kill anybody. It may have been best to send her on her lonesome up a mountain with treacherous horrors. Was he going to be responsible for that? Fuck, I am aren’t I? Because I’m the fucking leader. Shit. He would have totally said yes and sent her weak ass up there.

“Look guys, sending our blue popstar up the mountain when she can’t even defend herself is retarded. You would be sending her up there by herself and if some monster or more of those deer furries showed up, I don’t think singing Kelly Clarkson’s Behind These Hazel Eyes is going to stop them from killing her. If she dies, then I’m gonna be held responsible because I’m the boss. I’m already telling you guys this idea is fucking stupid.”

Silent Bob (Ruben) decided to speak up then. Boss cracked a grin at Ruben’s assertive speech. While it was honest and professional, Boss jumped on it immediately, twisting its true point around. Raising a hand to his mouth, Boss childishly exclaimed, “DEEEAA~AAAMN! He called you guys bitche~es~! Oh shit! I can’t believe this is coming from Soldier Boy.”

Boss staggered over to Ruben in mirth and bumped his shoulder with his shoulder as he nearly collapsed with laughter. Straightening, Boss wiped some tears from his eyes as he caught his breath. “That was fucking awesome. You should definitely talk more. Up high!”

Boss held his hand up for Ruben to high-five it, and if he did or left him hanging, either way he said to the rest of the group with a stern look. “But seriously, guys, this is stupid and we’re not doing it. Like I said, when the mission is over, then my command over you guys is over and you guys can do whatever the hell you want then. I won’t be responsible. But from now until we finish this shit, nobody is goin’ off to do stupid shit.”

---

GM Note: The Greybeards call for one. Decide as a team who should go. The mission will be a side mission separate from the main, but the player will return later to participate in the main mission. 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.

Glad to find at least one other team member agreeable, Azura glanced at Vent in appreciation, though she did not support his choice to volunteer with a nod. If the whole group did not depart on this detour, she could not in all honesty say who should go. With so many unknowns present, hiding in every crevice between every rock and underneath the boughs of every tree, splitting up did not occur to her as a good idea. If Vent went alone, furthermore, who was to say whether or not he could satisfy the Greybeards? Azura did not understand the strange, artificial-seeming being as much as she would have liked, but in all aspects he seemed of a different bent than the magic-inclined nature of this world, or hers, for that matter.

A small jolt of surprise hit Azura when Piper suggested that she alone be the one to answer the call. Though she felt capable enough in her own abilities, the songstress did not savor her chances on a perilous climb in an unknown land. While Piper brought up some good -though rather flattering- points to support her hypothesis, Azura's doubts clung to her as close and chilling as the wintry air. Without a conclusion, she looked to those who had yet to speak for some sort of consensus.

Until now, the soldier medic had not talked much, leaving Azura no reason to steel herself for his input. After only a few sentences, however, her countenance grew steely indeed. The accusation underlying Ruben's words did not go unnoticed for a second, and both the lack of understanding and lack of perspective that those words made plain rankled her with bitterness. She knew the dismissal and contempt in his tone all too well, though never before had someone of his station used it to her face.

“A soldier, through and through.” Azura did not need to fight to keep rancor out of her tone, for there was none—only fatigue, for she'd stood atop these ramparts before. Questioning her suggestion for dealing with the call from High Hrothgar was one thing, and since the plan going forward was open to debate that posed no problem in and of itself, but Ruben was attacking her character and ability. Still, it wouldn't be worth it to try to correct him, and even if she cared to try she doubted anything would improve his impression of her. It just couldn't be helped. “Next time,” she drawled, “I shall be sure to abandon the worthless role of support and charge into enemy fire with my lance.”

Her dull look turned on he Boss next. He'd made it clear that he valued her staying alive for the sole reason that he would have to take responsibility if she died, which revealed that more than one person present thought her useless. A crushing feeling of resignation overtook her. So this is how it is. I had thought it might be different. The Boss made it abundantly clear that nobody would be deviating from the prescribed course, no matter the reason. The nastiness with which he accompanied this assertion stung her to the core. ”So be it,” she murmured, her acquiescence just loud enough to be heard over the whistling wind. Orders are orders, she mused. And what good are soldiers like us if not mindlessly following orders? Thinking on our own to solve a difficult task using different means due to changing circumstances? Foolishness. Azura felt something bubbling inside her, an energy squirming to be unleashed, but she shut it out and prepared to move.

And so the situation devolved from what the Mega Man had thought was going to be a reasonable discussion into a tirade of insults, semi-robotic litany from their resident soldier and the Boss revealing the real reason he wasn't wanting any one go. Of all the foolish, ignoble, ignorant reasons to not send someone... But before he could shoot off a retort to both their leader's and the soldier's reasons for disagreement, Azura let the pair have it, making clear her issues with them without saying it straight to them. If Vent had gone off first, he was almost positive the first words out of his mouth would have been to call the Boss a fool and an idiot and Ruben a brainless robot with no idea how to think for himself. However, Azura's tirade gave him a second to breath and calm himself down before speaking, not to mention admire her speaking skills.

Well done wordplay. I like it, though... And then he realized what the Boss had said, completely disregarding the explanation that Vent had given upon arrival, and his temper flared up again. Wait a minute, did he call me a robot? Vent's normally calm demeanor began to crack as he turned to face the Boss, his teeth grinding. "I am not a robot, I am a human who essentially wears a robotic exoskeleton when megamerged. As it stands, we know absolutely NOTHING about these Greybeards anymore than we do the area around us or Markarth, so for all we know, they may very well be able to make us fail this mission if we ignore them. From what I remember of the fantasy novels I read when I wasn't running deliveries for Giro was that people with magic can do a great number of things, such as lightning in a clear sky to strike down their foes, a raging inferno started from nothing." His eyes remained hard as he continued, waving his arm around them to indicate the area they were standing in. And many of them could do it from great distances, with virtually no line of sight. Are you REALLY willing to risk it all to ignore someone even our contact indicated we shouldn't ignore?"

Then he turned to Ruben and opened his mouth before stopping and then sighing, shaking his head. "I'm not even sure I want to bother with you. All you see is what you're told to see, and that's both sad and pathetic. Open your eyes and your mind before you find yourself 'ordered' into a bad position, one you can't get out of." He turned to follow the Stormcloaks and looked at the others. "Regardless, we'd best catch up to Ulfric before he wonders what's going on and comes back to stick his nose in a fight best kept amongst ourselves." He then turned and resumed his walk, keeping a watchful eye on the area around the group leading to the fort for more of those Forsaken, and with every intent to secure and destroy the weapons they were wielding in the future in order to preserve this place's natural flow. A jump in technology that great would potentially destabilize the entire universe.

At least Ruben wasn't threatening to shoot them for insubordination, and he was actually thinking about the situation rather than being a yes man, but aside from those two points he was living up to all her worst expectations. She was forced to admit that his comments were accurate when it came to them being outgunned and not splitting up the party was generally a sound plan, but his dismissal of Azura’s abilities was narrow minded in her opinion, and his comment about “orders are orders” was simply despicable.

”Stick with that attitude and one day soon you’ll find yourself faced with a decision, to do what's right or to do what you are told. She warned him, speaking entirely from experience. When she had reached that threshold she had deserted the royal space force rather than being tricked into bomb civilians. When the day came for Ruben to face his own crisis of loyalty she hoped he chose what he should do over what he was meant to do. If he had not failed that test already that is, she did not know the man, nor his history, so perhaps he was already long past the moral event horizon due to thoughtless obedience.

The boss continued the trend of brushing off Azura’s abilities, like they hadn't even felt them. Had they even felt that power? She could say. As for his reasoning for not sending her, it was the most self serving reason for ‘protecting’ someone that you could conceive. The way this was shaping up the prediction she had given Ruben might come true all to soon.

While vent laid out the other potential consequences of ignoring the call Piper mulled over her options. Mutiny was out of the question, with the odds beng at best three vs two any violent confrontation involved would cripple their already limited firepower, and she suspected that her taking over leadership of the team would clash with the local’s fear of the steel gods. They might think her some kind of infiltrator, spy or saboteur and that would no doubt end messily. There was another option, one she was very familiar with that would let them go through with it without the boss having the horror of responsibility resting on his shoulders.

She avoided joining in with the trading of barbed words, despite the various degrees of prejudice displayed against robots it contained. It was becoming clear, at least in Pipers opinion, that this team, mission and situation where all rapidly becoming unsalvageable. If it was just the boss they could have all simply ignored him. However, with Ruben mindlessly backing him up the opposition’s resolve seemed to be rapidly crumbling, Azura falling in line while Vent more or less walked out on it all to bring Ulfric into the mess. That, she suspected, would likely kill any potential for future insubordination or arguing with the boss lest they damage relations with their new allies. Though she suspected rejecting the call might be worse in that regard.

As Vent turned to catch up with Ulfric she put her rather simple plan into motion, striding after and then overtaking him with a simple, meaningless ”Right then”. when she reached Ulfric she asked him:

”So, what's the way to the fortress.”

After Shantae attempted to communicate with the soldier and took off running, she never noticed the gem soldier appear and warn them about Sparx, as she was already in pursuit. Unfortunately as she kept on running, the cloaked figure was proving himself to be really fast and she soon couldn't even see him anymore. Thankfully her eyes caught sight of the golden streak of Sparx's light and she let out a monkey like yelp (cheer?), and followed Sparx, not once losing her pace and used her platforming skills to keep up.

((Note: Soldier is referring to Zarkun's character.))