[IC] World of Light

[DracoLunaris]

wordcount: 1,109 (+2)
Midna: level 7 EXP: ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (41/70) | Fox level: 6 (54 -> 56/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Graveyard of the Peaks

They did have a point, Midna conceded, with how far and how much of a coin flip it was that the abbey would still have people and heat in it. But it wasn't like they had any better ideas. Midna could have joined in Raz’s suggestion about the magic hand based wind shield, but the physics of that situation got it shot down too. She missed the remaining back and forth (not that there was much to miss), because after Raz’s suggestion, Joker shouted out to Fox, the actual fox looking one not the teen’s fellow partner in crime, who was already starting to soldier forwards into the blizzard, like the hero he was.

Alone.

”What in the- what is he- uuuuurgh” the imp threw her hands up in frustration, unable to find the words for her exasperation at the pilot’s stubbornness.

”Goddesses damn it… I’m going after him” she declared with a resigned tone to the rest of them. Then she waved a hand, summoned her Wolf-dran, mounted the beast and then, clinging to its body with her chest pressed to its back to reduce drag, urged the wolf to chase after the fox. Taking off at a sprint, that quickly slowed to reserved padding once the wolf-dran got a full understanding of the situation it was in for, twilight princess and beast disappeared into the white wall after Fox.

The wind tore at them both, but, being lower to the ground and a bit better suited to the weather, just a bit, they caught up with him soon enough via following his scent, rather than sight or sound of which there was only the raging passage of the frigid flakes to be seen/heard, carried backwards to them on the stormwinds.

---

Having already drifted shortly out of earshot before anyone took notice, partly on account of the wind-howl that buried any voice that tried to carry against the current, Fox failed to hear or heed Joker (or anyone else) as he attempted calling out to him. Incidentally, he and his troupe of Phantom Thieves were a passing subject of his active ruminations that he passed the minutes with to psychologically avail him of the adversity he presently faced; a motivating distraction. How long ago had it been since he occupied the same fresh pair of leadership shoes—at the same apparent age, no less—and how far had t/he/y come since then? He knew a worthy leader when he saw one, and in the boy he most certainly saw one. It was plain to see, as was their potential; how much greater they stood to become, together. If anyone was to find an alternate solution to safely crossing the snowfield, it would be him and his gang, thanks to him. He almost managed a proud smile at the thought, had he the feeling left in his face to spare for one.

That, he thought, may have marked the difference in their actions, given the circumstances. If the Thieves’ leader hesitated at all, it was understandably for their sakes. Might Fox have done the same had his own team been there with him? To set aside an extra moment of consideration for their preservation and well-being, concerned secondarily (if that) with his own? Or might he have changed nothing at all, pressing on just as he had chosen to, but with even greater confidence that they would make it through the storm, together? The lasting words of both rival and idol echoed in his mind as ever-present reminders…

“Don’t hesitate! When the time comes, just act!”

“Never give up. Trust your instincts.”

One he came to recall in times of need, the other he had always lived by. What his instincts told him now… was that their enemy rightly feared them. They touted astronomical odds, insisting on their impossibility, acting to talk them out of their crusade at chosen points, monologuing self-assurances at them that they would surely die trying, knowing better than to think that it should stop them. The truth was, whenever it came to that, it came invariably as a sign that they were afraid. The better interest of the Seekers was axiomatically absent from their intent; they were just scared that they might actually try… and succeed.

Be that as it may, the unforgiving reality of their quest bore credence. They faced down perceivably impossible challenges wherever they went, and were due to continue to, should they survive them. Even with the not-so-immediate end (literally) in sight, in the grand, overall scheme of everything, concerning their mission, the cruel fact remained that they were just getting started. The early point they were at in their journey was no time to lose heart or hope. No time to give up. No time to hesitate.

Fox less heard than saw, ‘felt’, or vaguely noticed another from Yellow Team somehow managed to catch up with him, laboring to join him at his side—one moreso than the other. Astride her transformed mount came the Twilight Princess, evidently the first to come after him.

”You're going to die, trying to do this alone” Midna shouted at him over the wind and snow, as she rode up to move alongside him.

The protesting words found him this time, but he said nothing in return. What was he to say? That he knew, but had no better ideas? Ask her if she did? Tell her that he was glad to have her there, so then they didn’t have to die or do anything alone? What would have been the use? She was already there with him, on the same path, so there was nothing to be said; nothing to convince her of. As he saw it, practically, his numbing breath was better saved (as much as he was able) for managing his energy than spent on a belaboring word to one who already understood, whether they said so or not.

As such, he continued to hike wordlessly onward, at a momentary loss for words, or any perceived need for them. All the same, and though he didn’t say, he was glad to have her there with him. It proved, in spite of expressed doubts, that someone shared his faith.

The princess’s sigh of resignation was lost to the wind and the cloth and kevlar covering her mouth, though the little shake of her head got across some of how she felt about this fool's errand. After that, she wasted no more breath, and instead simply moved her mount in closer such that they could move as one, forwards, into the white.

Because what else was there to do, but keep on pushing forwards?

[MULTI_MEDIA_MAN]

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle- Where All Things Must Come

Lvl 9 (16/90) -> Lvl 9 (20/90)

Word Count: 535 words

As the Orphan ripped out another placental grenade and detonated the beach in front of it, Geralt dove away from the front of the Orphan, rolling over his shoulder and forcing himself back to his feet in barely a moment, blade still at the ready. He avoided the follow-up cluster of grenades as well, though it forced him further away than he'd have liked, some of the more agile Seekers closing the distance as he was still making his way to the Guardian. Ironically, this helped him keep close when the Orphan leapt up and above those attacking it, throwing still more grenades that Geralt was forced to dodge.

This time, however, he was close enough to reach his opponent as Sakura, Peach, and one of Nadia's strange clones joined the attack. One of his swings managed to prompt the ATG Missile Launcher on his shoulder to activate, dealing a hefty blow to the Orphan on top of what he was already doing with his oversized sword.

As the Orphan continued its erratic, manic fighting, the Seekers continuously rushed it down, forcing the thing to constantly move about the area. The little hits it had gotten off on them over the course of the chase were starting to wear them down, slowly but surely, even with Blazermate's healing. They could go a while longer, especially after Geralt was feeling up to summoning the Judicator again for a quick boost of healing, but it wouldn't last forever.

Finally, the moment they'd been fighting for came, and Rika's whale reached where the Orphan touched down for a moment. In an admittedly disappointing exchange of blows, the Orphan destroyed the Abyssal creature while taking a massive chomp from the thing.

And the fight was back on, though only for a moment before being interrupted by the Orphan itself. The Guardian slammed its weapon into the sand, sending up waves of dirt and sand and staggering the incoming wave of fighters. Geralt was drawing circles with his blade to ward off a sneak attack while his other hand wiped the debris from his eyes. Getting the worst of it free just in time to watch the Orphan grab Sakura and slam her into the ground before striking her with a brutal overhead swing of its monstrous weapon.

Bella's sprint was the stuff of legends, the freed Abyssal spurred on by the same fear of loss that afflicted many of the Seekers, and Geralt could only nod in approval as she summoned a swarm of seaplanes to destroy the incoming grenades that had been thrown from on high. As he reached the pair, Geralt cursed when the Orphan landed not far from them. "Keep her safe," He grunted, charging after the Orphan and crossing paths with Nadia. "Nadia, I have an idea. Can you stretch yourself out to keep that thing held down for a minute, like a living rope?" Stowing his blade, Geralt readied himself to act.

With Nadia's flexible muscle fibers, he could throw her like a bolas and trip the Orphan up, buying the Seekers valuable time to heal Sakura, let Blazermate use her Medaforce beam, and otherwise keep putting the hurt on the clearly wounded Orphan.

[Dark Cloud]

Level: 1 Experience: 5/10
Location: Snowdin - Treat's Doll House Word Count: Less than 700 (+1 EXP)
Interactions: @Majoras End, @Gentlemanvaultboy and @Lugubrious

Papyrus simply looked from Frisk to her other allies, his brow knitted together trying to understand what happened and why it couldn't have been resolved with words "I DON'T UNDERSTAND," he said sounding dejected looking where the man once lay "WH-WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE THIS WAY?!" violence was never his solution to any problem, puzzles weren't solved by force it takes patience and time even if you didn't have any to spare.

Thus he was distraught and confused at how the whole situation couldn't have been handled differently, the man must have had a reason to attack them? Maybe they hurt his feelings, or he was just afraid of them so he lashed out yes that must have been the reason...

Right?

[Lugubrious]

Tora, Poppi, and Big Band

Location: Sandswept Sky - Graveyard of the Peaks
Level 9 Tora (138/90) Level 9 Poppi (138/90) Level 5 Big Band (76/50)
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Fox’s @Dawnrider, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, and the Scout
Word Count: 1581

To walk forward was a simple thing, but as the gathered group took the first steps of their arduous final ascent, they knew that this time it would not be easy. None of them, however, marched forth under any delusions about the task ahead. This may well be their most grueling challenge so far, the coldly impersonal elements of Split Mountain a more terrifying foe than Megadragonbowser, the Ender Dragon, or the rebels of Al Mamoon. But in their unity the Seekers of Light could be one another’s strength, the heroes that Master Hand challenged them to be, and overcome even the tallest mountains set before them. So they walked, pushing and shoving and plodding through the snow, their V formation leaving behind a streak of trenches carved through the heavy carpet of light like the musical score that flowed so adamantly from the instrument on Big Band’s back.

The wind buffeted them, rigorous and relentless. It forced the climbers to lean into it and ply their strength, their every footfall a small achievement in its own right. At irregular intervals, every few minutes or so, the blizzard would quicken to such an extent that no progress at all could be made. The Seekers could only hunker down, shield themselves, and endure for seconds that seemed like hours until the gale subsided to less unmanageable levels. The issues with linking hands the whole way through would become apparent early on, for the vast morphological differences among a number of party members made it regrettably unfeasible. For fear of their friends soaring away into the snowstorm, close-knit subgroups like the Phantom Thieves, Octopath Travellers, or Tora and Poppi continued to hold together, but the rest had to focus on holding formation instead, and praying that nobody disappeared.

It was impossible to gauge how much time passed, or how far the climbers got. The radiant rift in the peak above never seemed to get closer. At times it would seem like the team wasn’t making any progress at all, if not for the reassurance of the trail left behind, and the tombstones passing by. Knowing that any deviations or delays could lead to one or more party members joining them, nobody stopped to inspect, loot, or pay respects to the fallen, other than to grab on to an opportunistic handhold, maybe. Whether or not that handhold snapped off under the duress of holding someone’s weight against the wind was another matter.

Gradually, the Seekers realized more and more of the truth behind Master Hand’s decision to spawn no enemies for them, for the blizzard itself attacked them like a living thing. It howled, it bit, it roared, and it stung. At times outcroppings of stone rose to the left and the right, their surfaces carved by unknown hands into mournful faces with frozen tiers, and across their contours the wind twisted into strange cadences, oddly suggestive of a wild and half-sentient piping, as if the mountain itself sang the heroes’ funeral dirge. It seemed to Tora like the faces were staring at him, waiting for him to fall like vultures. Those stupid faces will be disappointed. Whoever put them there won’t scare me!, he insisted to himself, grabbing hold of any spite that would help fuel his next step forward, and the next.

After some time, Big Band realized that no more landmarks seemed to be forthcoming. The stone faces stopped, and even the steady smattering of tombstones petered out. Snow fell hard and fast, piling up on the his shoulders and hat, as well as on the hoods and head of everyone around him. Behind them, their tracks vanished within minutes. It was as if the team had left the mountain behind, and become trapped in a void of withering cold, a white abyss where no sign existed of progress either forward or back. His face numbed by the cold, Band lifted his vision to the slope before him, peering past frosted eyelashes for any sign of either Midna or Fox. But just like every time before, there were none to be found. With no other options at this point but to trust in them, though, he grit his teeth and pushed on.

The loss of landmarks, however, seemed to precipitate a new degree of turbulence in the storm. The beast of the winds lashed out with ever greater fury, and after a certain point its teeth weren’t just biting at the heroes, but ripping at them. Rips and tears began to form in their protective gear as the wind sliced into their scarves, their coats, and the borrowed cloaks from the Tostarena sports store. Entire strips and shreds of cloth and stuffing disappeared into the storm, including Primrose’s scarf, and as the heroes’ defenses broke down the cold flooded in.

As conditions and the collective team health continued to deteriorate, stress began to mount, even for the team members most acclimatized to extreme conditions. It wasn’t too long before the short-tempered Scout decided he’d had enough. His environmental suit had been the difference between life and death in the depths of Hoxxes IV’s Glacial Strata and Magma Core, and to feel it being cut to pieces around him pushed him over the edge. “Roight, bugger this!” he declared, reaching down to his gear. He yanked loose his pickaxe and grapple gun, took aim, and fired it up the mountain. The moment it snagged on the stone beneath the snow he zipped off. When he arrived he smashed his pick into the ground for purchase while his grapple gun re-pressurized, then repeated in the process. In no time at all it was gone, blitzing through the blizzard with the remarkable power of Deep Rock’s industrial technology.

Many of his fellows, however, neither saw nor heard him leave. They were having troubles of their own. The frigid wind that numbed Mona’s paws also meant that he didn’t feel himself slipping from his grasp around Braum’s neck until it was just a little too late. “Can’t…hold on!” he gasped, straining his near-nonexistent muscles, until he lost hold. He yowled in fear and, on instinct, sank his claws into the Freljordian’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to avoid sailing off into the storm.

“Hrrk!” Braum jerked in pain and surprise.

“I’m sorry!” Mona cried, his eyes streaming tears.

“It’s…okay!” Though the big man tried to reassure his hanger-on, the sudden attachment hurt a lot, and for all his valor Braum wasn’t doing so hot himself. While he fought through the pain as best he could, Mona came to a worrisome realization. Braum’s natural defense meant his claws didn’t sink that deep. While the rest of him flapped like a flag, the wind worked him free, and after only a couple more moments the little thief popped out in a spray of Braum’s blood.

“Nyaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!” he cried as he hurtled backward, his scream washed away by the wind. Spotting him, Panther broke formation to try and grab him with her whip. It was a one-in-a-million shot, and she didn’t make it, but in the nick of time Mona summoned Zorro to blast him in the direction of the whip with a burst of wind. He grabbed hold, only for his weight to push Panther past her tipping point. With a yelp she fell face-first into the snow, then immediately began to slide. She and Mona tumbled a couple hundred feet before they came to a stop in a drift of snow.

“ANN!” Skull bellowed, already on his way after her no matter what any of the others might have to say. He practically threw himself down the slope after her, tumbling end over end until he plopped into the drift beside her. Lacking Panther’s ice weakness, he’d been in a much better condition before the fall, but now a thorough soak in the snow plus a bevy of bumps and bruises left him dazed. “Are you…okay?” he asked, searching for any sign of injury on his fellow thieves even as his head swam.

“...Yeah,” Mona replied, his voice weak. “Man, this isn’t going so good, huh?”

“It’s too much.” It looked like Panther was on the verge of collapse. “Can’t we stop a moment…? Take a break?”

After shaking out his dizziness, Mona tugged at her sleeve with urgency in his voice. “No, no, no! If you lose consciousness in the snow, you’ll never wake up!”

“We’ve gotta push onward, no matter how shitty it is,” Skull confirmed.

Together, the three strove to pick themselves up and resume the climb. Up above, Joker, Fox, and Necronomicon watched, relieved that their friends weren’t lost but still terrified. Big Band, Tora, Poppi, and the others had proceeded a short distance before Band realized the loss, setting off a chain reaction that paused the whole group. Staring down at the kids struggling to make their way up, the detective continued to play, hoping that his sweet jazz would reach the Thieves through the storm.

Of course, it was at that time that the wind picked up. Everyone hunkered down in a hurry as visibility dropped to just a few feet, and Big Band’s music got drowned out. Down below, Skull and Panther fought with everything they had for each step, arms interlocked, with Mona plastered against the lock by the wind. “Gotta…keep…goin’!” Skull rasped. “Gotta…keep…!

Just twelve seconds later, the storm died back down. When visibility returned to normal, however, the three thieves were nowhere to be seen.

Convent of Our Lady of the Charred Visage

Laharl and Flonne’s @Dark Cloud

At this point, it had been almost a full week since the small but solemn party of ministers, clerics, and acolytes set off from the warmth of Tostarena Town on their journey to the lonesome monastery that, according to rumor and hearsay, dwelled in suffering silence not so far from the snowy summit of Split Mountain. Swaddled like babes in heavy furs and possessed of fiery censers to keep themselves warm, the eight chose to make the dangerous climb for a variety of reasons, be it penance, evangelism, the desire for relics, a vision quest, or -in the case of one young lady- simply in the name of love. And now, having found at the end of her journey that whole trip had been in vain, Flonne was all alone.

For a while the trip had gone as well as one could have hoped. The reckless Riders gave the party a few bruises, and as they trudged through Baur’s Reach in wonderment of winter the wind nipped at their faces, but patience, miracles, and wisdom allowed them to reach the sanctuary of High Hrothgar without much trouble. After spending the night, they began their climb anew, but tragedy struck early on into their climb around the mountain. An ice-encrusted monstrosity barred their path, savage and insatiable, whose hideous head of twisted spigots blasted them with streams of freezing water. Three of their number became trapped in the ice, and after the creature bit off one poor man’s head, the rest of the party could only save one more member before fleeing for their lives.

Farther up the ill-fated group encountered yetis and other fearsome creatures. Despite their best attempts to lay low, they reached an impasse where their most stalwart warrior chose to challenge the giant in their way. When he was launched into the stratosphere, the others were forced to make a mad dash for safety up a dangerous incline. Higher still, one more cleric would succumb to her wounds from the cold.

Despite the odds, the surviving four managed to reach the Convent. At first the sisters welcomed them as pilgrims, eager for their supplication and offerings, and in particular the angel Flonne was heralded as a messenger of the Grievous Miracle come to stoke the flames of their faith. All too soon, however, the sisters realized the truth; that Flonne and her cohort would rather take away their holy suffering rather than deepen and glorify it further. For the newcomers’ blasphemy the sisters sought to snuff out what remained of their fire for good.

After the first murder, the remaining three split up, fugitives in the Convent’s desolate halls, lost amidst streams of lava and bloodthirsty nuns, and unable to leave. How long it had been since then, Flonne couldn’t say. All the boundless love in her heart couldn’t keep her warm or fed, and unlike soft-spoken Father Armen or brusque Sister Rosaria, she couldn’t fight back that well against her assailants, either. Desperate for escape, the girl kept a sharp eye out the abbey’s frosted windows as often as she could, and during one such plaintive search she caught sight of movement through a lull in the storm. A procession of people -as well as a giant wasp and some sort of wolf?- across a distant bridge, thousands of feet away, but still visible through the storm. Then, a few minutes later, a fiery fury. Was it a signal that help was coming? Maybe she could somehow signal back? If she was going to do anything to get out of this dire place, it would need to be now.

Ms Fortune

Location: Carcass Isle - Where All Things Must Come
Level 7 Nadia (73/70)
Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Hat Kid’s @Dawnrider, Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN, Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 1588

Peach leading the Orphan on a not-so-merry chase in the direction of the sea meant another headlong sprint across the sandy beach for Ms Fortune, but this time she found herself slowing down before she so much as reached the halfway point. Though at an annoyingly inopportune time, it was beginning to dawn on Nadia just how incredibly tired she was. Her body was one big ache, with her muscles sore and bones weary from constant exertion. This wasn’t the time for reflection, but it made sense; it had been one hell of a day, to say the least. The sheer chaos of the morning’s naval battle on Blackwater Bay had given way to the nightmare circus that was the Maw, with only an all-too-brief lunchtime break in the paradisiacal Luma Pools between them. Then, as if literal warfare and her own personal horror story weren’t enough stimulation for one day, there was the shipwreck on Carcass Isle followed by the back-to-back slugfests on and beneath the island itself. It had to be past midnight at this point, maybe hours past. She was hungry, hurt, filthy, and exhausted, and the others couldn’t be much better. Realistically speaking, it was a wonder that Blue Team was still standing. All that remained was to keep it that way–and make sure that the Orphan went down.

Reasoning that she’d be more of a liability than an asset if she rejoined the fight too hastily, Nadia came to a stop for a brief moment. She bent forward and, hands on her knees, focused on taking deep breaths. All her mobility and copycats left her somewhat low on blood, and if she was going to be at her best, the feral needed to get it pumping once more. Still, she kept her eyes on the fight.

Everyone wanted to keep the Orphan as far away from Sakura as they could get it while she recovered, and the Koopa Troop didn’t waste the initiative that Peach’s decoy effort offered them. A whole armada of spiritbound shells, painted with electrified slime for extra oomph, set off across the water with Junior in the middle. Judging by the ground the Orphan covered so far with the sea never higher than its calves, the water remained shallow for quite a ways. As the summoned shells cruised in, the Princess narrowly evaded a brutal overhead smash from the abomination in pursuit of her, but before she could get far the wave kicked up by the ensuing eruption knocked her legs out from under her. The Orphan ran toward her, but before it could reach her the first wave of shell ramped off the wave and smacked it across the side with a bip-bip-bip-bip. Though their voltaic coating dealt only negligible damage on top of the already tame impact, the Orphan of Kos reacted nonetheless, wheeling around to see Junior’s shell cut through the wave and careen in direction.

Snarling, the monster ripped out more meat from its placental cleaver and lobbed it out over the water. Geysers of accursed blood and noxious tidewater erupted across a wide area, but just a little too late to stop Junior in his tracks. Flying in before the blasts, the Koopa Prince’s shell bonked the Orphan in the shin. A flurry of suppressive fire added insult to injury, and though staggered for only a second, the screaming horror let its weapon fly. The cleaver carved through the shallows in a spiral around it, and before either Peach or Junior could get clear both got clipped. The princess managed to block with Chao Ho’s giant fan, but the force of the blow cracked her elegant weapon of war almost in half as she slid a dozen meters backward across the water.

The exchange made Nadia wince, and with a final deep breath she straightened up. With Ace and Hatty taking up defensive positions around Sakura and Bella, Link not in her eyeshot, and Blazermate off on a risky attempt to collect some ubercharge, her team needed her on the frontlines. Trouble was, at the moment they had less of a ‘line’ and more of a wing and a prayer. Well, at least I won’t be alone up there, she thought ruefully, keeping her copycats in mind. She crouched down at the water’s edge to gather herself for a water-pressure superjump, watching with furrowed brows as Blazermate went on the offensive. She swooped in and, despite her optimistic goal of hitting its weakspot both times, managed to strike the Orphan twice at the cost of her shield arm. Her limb was in shambles as she backed away to a safe distance, but now that her gambit paid off, the Medabot had everything she needed to pull off a Blockbuster of her very own–everything except a guarantee that she’d hit her target. Blazermate called for help, asking that her allies put the fearsome Orphan of Kos on lockdown. It was a tall order, and as much as Nadia wanted to fill it, she couldn’t for the life of her imagine how.

Luckily, someone showed up who could. As Geralt passed Nadia by on his own journey to engage the Orphan in combat, a sudden idea struck him like a bolt from the blue. Nadia saw the genius in the Witcher’s plan straight away, and given how well things turned out the last time Geralt threw her at an enemy, she was more than willing to lend a hand. “Nyaow we’re talkin’! I mean, I’d prefer a bola noodles, but this oughta work. Lemme at ‘em, Gary!” She cut off her charge and stood, extending her hands for him to take. As the swordsman lifted her up she allowed the rest of herself to go limp, so that when he began to spin her around like a meteor hammer above his head, she automatically extended to about twice her usual length.

A moment later Geralt let her rip, and the elongated feral flew across the water like a chain shot from a cannon. She whipped through the air with the murky seashore a blur around her, yowling her heart out the whole time, then struck the Orphan right on the money. Her momentum sent her into a breakneck bright blue spiral around the confused monster, her ropy muscle fibers winding around and around its ghoulish husk, tighter and tighter, until it could barely stand. Unlike Bowser’s dog-pile where it could clearly register both the attack and what it could lash out against in turn, the Orphan seemed baffled by the phenomenon that had befallen it, and could only flail around as it sought to regain its balance with skeletal legs bound together. The feral’s eyes blinked open. “Oh hey, it worked! Didn’t think I’d get this far…hurk!” The Orphan’s burgeoning strength tested Nadia’s muscle fibers sorely, but they held for the crucial moment it took for her to hatch up another scheme. “Remember, remember…” She opened wide and, despite very strong reservations, bit down on the horror’s grisly neck. With a grunt she unleashed her pent-up water pressure from her limbs, and in an burst of vital fluid her constituent components blasted off in all directions, leaving the off-kilter Orphan spinning for a moment in the water. As they flew, her bloody rockets turned back around, headed straight to where her head held tight. She let go, spitting out traces of the Orphan’s execrable flesh, and as her head rolled down its back cried out, “...The fifth of dismember!

Her body smashed together in a gruesome explosion, a level three Blockbuster that left the Orphan dazed for one critical moment as Nadia sailed out of out the carnage. She landed in the she shallows with a roll and hopped to her feet like a gymnast, all in one piece and ready for her perfect tens, only for the power of Blazermate’s Medaforce Beam to nearly bowl her over. The baleful ray of light fell upon the Orphan like an orbital laser, blowing back the tidewater in a radius around it, and in the midst of its radiance the shadow of the wizened abomination contorted in agony, filling the beach with the echo of its haunting scream. A moment later and the lightshow was over, and the Orphan of Kos stood with smoking flesh as the watcher filled back in around it. Its head hung down, but only for a moment.

Its head snapped back up as it howled, its cry even more hideous than the first time it assaulted the heroes’ ears. A pillar of lightning dropped from the sky, but this time Blazermate -not Kos- was the eye of the storm. It slammed her down into the surf before a wave of lightning spread out from her position to roll across the area once more. When it rebounded, it would coalesce on her as well, no matter where on the beach she went. For a brief moment Nadia’s shoulders sagged, the look on her face a silent plea for someone, anyone to end her suffering, but she shook it off. This time she knew the Orphan’s tricks, and after everything it had suffered, it couldn’t be long for this world. Could it? Nadia swallowed and got ready to dodge, already thinking about what to do next. Hopefully she and the others had bought enough time to get poor Sakura back on her feet.

The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Skeleton, and the Skullgirl

Location: Frozen Highlands - Snowdin
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Papyrus’ @Dark Cloud

As Albedo backpedaled out of the range where the Dollmaker’s frenzied swipes could hit him, Linkle stepped forward with her shiny new crossbows in hand, courtesy of Frisk. The alchemist felt like he could sense a modicum of reluctance in her, but possibly due to the disadvantage of her prospective target, but it paused her for only the briefest of moments. Like him, she recognized that this ghastly creep, a definite stalker and at the very least attempted murderer, deserved little in the way of pity.

In a better world an act of undeserved mercy might prompt a bout of introspection, and maybe plant the seeds of understanding that could bud into beautiful blossoms at some point down the line. But this was the World of Light, and once begun any fight must necessarily end by force, however much Frisk and this pacifistic Papyrus might want otherwise. Any leeway granted to the Dollmaker would only serve the purpose of getting everyone else hurt, maybe even killed. It could be this way even in a hypothetical scenario where Galeem’s influence didn’t exist as a factor. Some things, Albedo knew, simply came out wrong. Even if their hearts of darkness yearned for the light of warmth and companionship, deeds of cruelty would forever stain their vows of virtue, and those they hurt couldn’t be blamed for fighting back. That was the nature of the world, whichever world that might be.

Even after Linkle dealt the decisive blow, the ghoulish giant clung to life a few seconds longer, possessed of such a festering desire that the pieces of his riven body continued to move. They grasped, desperately, longingly, for the lives that the Dollmaker could never obtain for himself. Then the dreary basement fell silent, the golden light of Albedo’s flower shining softly on unhappy faces and piled-up ash. The Skullgirl collected her attacker’s remains, turned to the others, and offered them an apology.

Her new friend’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression one of guarded concern. If anyone should be sorry, it should have been him. This world was one of limitless surprises, and he should have known there would be more to the story of Treat’s current domicile than met the eye. Just how much power did Linkle have to tap into because of his oversight? How much deeper had the day’s events allowed the Skull Heart to delve? Misadventures like this were the last thing she needed.

Papyrus was yelling about the situation, and it intimidated Albedo. He didn’t know what to say, so he skipped over it and addressed the star player. “Don’t worry about it, Linkle,” he told her. “It looks to have been quite the troublesome situation. Are you feeling alright?”

With the matter at hand settled, the Skullgirl’s consideration turned to those around her, and quickly Treat came to mind. Albedo decided to take the liberty of answering for the skeleton for the sake of expediency. “This is Papyrus. Treat is okay, though I regret to say she had a sprained ankle. She’s waiting for us in front of the house, so let’s get her away from this place.”

The group was all too eager to leave the dingy, eerie darkness beneath the Beneviento House behind. Once outside, the crisp alpine air helped get them together again, and they made for the cliffside manor’s main gate. There they found the lonely wolfgirl seated atop Linkle’s sled, with Albedo’s Corgi dutifully reclined in her arms, all four little paws in the air as he tried to lick Treat’s nose. “Aw, stop, stop,” she gasped, unable to suppress a smile despite the dire circumstances. Her attempts to crane her neck away from the living loaf’s eager tongue meant she spotted the incoming quarter straight away, causing her to perk up instantly. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

She made to rise and greet the other properly, but Albedo held out his hand. “Stay right there and take it easy. We’ll get your things, then push you down to the village and get that ankle looked at by a professional.” He looked over the sled, wondering if he and Linkle together could lift it like a stretcher.

“Oh no, no need to do that,” Treat grimaced, shaking her free hand. “I don’t want to be a bother or anything.”

Albedo ignored her and took up a position behind the sled. “While I would not presume to know what’s best for you, I know that there’s no shame in asking for help. People aren’t made for living alone, and I believe you’ve been on your own long enough. Please, let us help you.”

Embarrassed, Treat held still so long that the Corgi managed to lick her right on the mouth. “Ugh, gross!” she sputtered. “I mean, uh…sure, I guess. I-if it’s not too much trouble.”

As if to gather empirical evidence, the alchemist looked between the others, hoping to hear their thoughts.

[Dark Cloud]

F L O N N E

Word Count: Less than 700+ (+1 EXP)
LVL/EXP: 1 (1/10)
Location: Convent of Our Lady of the Charred Visage → Graveyard of the Peaks
@DracoLunaris and @Dawnrider

In the dusty corner of the fiery Convent, Flonne peered out the frosty window to the flicker of a light between the sudden calm of the wind and snow just beyond the abbey from the corner of a small chamber within which the young girl hid from her pursuers bent on snuffing out her flame after learning her fellow brothers and sisters whom seeked pilgrimage were healers, the sisters hunted them throughout the sweltering heat within the halls of their gods abbey.

Flonne saw the light in the distance as a beacon of hope yet the frost of the windows dulled the light of her own aura "Oh dear," her heart was racing as her pursuers sounded as though they were getting closer and closer, fear and panic befalling the angel "Lord give me strength." Flonne whispered stepping backwards from the window, footfalls closing in behind her and the girl closed her eyes breathing a deep breath in and out before opening them and rushing towards the thin glass separating her from the cold landscape beyond.

She put all her might and conviction into colliding with the veritable wall of glass before her, pushing the full weight of her petite little body into shattering the window just as the sound of her assailant reached her hiding place. Thankfully the glass gave, showering the white blanket below amidst a shower of tiny shards following the distinct sound of glass breaking and someone screaming shrilly as they fell through and out onto the snow, her ankles and wrists bleeding ever so slightly from being pierced by glass, snow around her feet red with blood yet her aura soothed the pain little by little however she strained to stand, unable to get up "Help! Please someone, help!" she called out down the mountain hoping her voice would be heard.

[Gentlemanvaultboy]

Link

Word Count: 1703

Level 8 - (-01/80) +6

Location: Carcass Island ~ Kosm's Beach

---

---

Bowser's plan ended in catastrophic failure. Royalty fell like rain across the beach, each shadow cast by Kamek and Mimi's magic dissolving in flight as the genuine article was caught by those cats, who began ferrying him to some place far better than this blasted beach. The creature didn't seem to be hurt at all by the Koopa dogpile. In fact it had grown stronger, it's weapon bloated as it stood tall in the moonlight with its makeshift cape fluttering in a sea breeze that didn't exist. Was it still developing? Was this child growing up before their eyes, becoming more dangerous with every second that they fought it?

It lifted it's head, called out to the sky and the sky answered it. From the dark clouds came a bolt of lightning, striking the creature's mother and sending electricity crashing across the beach. While the rest of them jumped the wave Delsin dived right into it, imbuing himself with power before sprinting at the horror as though he had learned nothing from the previous time he had tried to face the thing one on one.

No, that wasn't right. He had been smarter about it this time. He dashed in, turning wholly into the creature's own lightning as he did. He lashed it, then it plunged its hand into that ghastly weapon and he dashed away. He had recognized what was about to happen. There was no preparing for what happened next, because you would be preparing for the wrong thing. If Link had taken the opportunity to move in it would have caught him too, it would have caught any one of them. The creature plunged the pinkish-red bulb it had ripped from its weapon into the beach, just like it had before. Instead of blowing up the area around it, though, the blast spread out in front of it and blew the surprised man high into the air. Link watched him tumble in slow motion, started moving before the creature itself did but he was too far away. He swore he could feel the air pressing against his skin as he went, slowing him. Holding him back as though he were trying to spring across the ocean floor. It was this world. There was too much world in the way and the creature was so much faster.

The man landed before Link could take two steps. The creature was on him before Link could even take another one, and then there was just the screaming and the sounds of rending meat and there was no miracle, no cats, no hearts, no heroes that could save him now. No, no, the time to save him had come before this. The time to save this man was back at the beach, the real beach, not this impossible place. Back where they had a ship, a ship to fly away from here. Stay on the ship, Delsin. That was what he had said. He had known, even then, that something like this would happen. He had just been too much of a coward to force the issue. He had let this man, who understood nothing, walk into the jaws of death. He may as well have stuck the blade in himself.

He almost didn't feel the lightning as it slammed into his back. The physical anguish was nothing compared to the pain flowing through his quivering brain, but the combination brought the hero down. First onto his knees, the hero's sword flying out of grip and landing blade down in the sand. He joined it soon after, collapsing face first into the much of the beach dead to the world save the screams still digging furrows through his mind.

He was paralyzed there for what felt like an eternity, far too long to simply chalk it up to being paralyzed by the electricity. It was a call that drew him out of it, a familiar voice that made him turn his face in the sand and point one eye upward toward the sky to spot the ink chunks raining down on the beach. Meteor?

It wasn’t fear that pushed him up when he realized what they were, nor any survival instinct. It was the pun. A man was dead and Ms. Fortune was still making puns? Terrible puns. It was infuriating. A righteous anger that was, at least for the moment, not directed inward fed power into his limbs and allowed him to try and drag himself away from the pink death that was coming down toward him.

He didn't dodge the whole blast, but he at least managed to throw himself clear of certain death. The explosion sent him flying across the beach, one arm and part of his face painted an ugnly red and pulsing with pain like a wasp sting, though whether that was from the damage or the gore was acidic he couldn’t know. He landed in a heap, but the shock had knocked the last of the paralysis out of him. He dragged himself back to his feet and looked up to see how the battle was going, only to find that it had gone to the cliffs.The creature was easy to spot, a pale while shape upon the black rocks, and he could just make out Ace before the creature again rained it’s organixc bombs down upon them. He sprinted away, dodging the explosions that he could feel on his back, but this only took him further from where the battle had moved in the time he had been out of action. Just as he started his way back there was another gut wrenching explosion as the entire cliff face seemed to shatter and rain down on the field.

A huge boulder came hurtling out of the sky right at him, and his hand went to the Sheikah Slate once more. As the boulder filled his vision he cast the Stasis rune once more, binding the boulder in the air before him. He could hear every impact it took, see other boulders falling beside him as they struck the back of his makeshift barrier and bounced off. He took note of the time as it began to flash faster and faster, until a couple of seconds passed where there were no impacts. Then he selected a new Rune, one he had noticed when preparing to block the Creature in with ice.

A bomb appeared in his hands as he did, blue and glowing like a weak lantern. He jumped back, tossed the explosive at the boulder in front of him, and detonated it. At first there didn't seem to be any effect, but once stasis ended the boulder that had saved him flew off, slamming into the cliff face and joining the debris that now littered the beach.

The debris was the only thing he could see, though. Though he could hear the sounds of battle he could no longer spot the melee through the veritable garden of boulders that now separated him from his allies, and even the sounds were echoing weirdly so he couldn't be quite sure where they were coming from. He climbed up on one of the rocks to get a better view, and began running along the tops of the boulders in whatever direction seemed promising. The battle was frantically moving, though. He would occasionally catch flashes of action between the rocks, but besides Blazermate hovering over the battlefield he could not pin anyone else down. The problem was the creature. He could see it leaping about, leading the others further and further from him as it layered the area with constant explosions. His mind reeled, deadly visions of what could be happening flashing before his eyes with every blast that reached his ears.

Finally he managed to catch up to someone, though the sight didn't bring him any relief.He jumped down from the rocks to find Sakura, planted in the dirt. Bella hovered over her like a mother cat. He caught the Seaplane Tender’s eye, sharing a moment of the abyssals' worry and anger before moving on toward the beach, his breathing ragged.

He caught up to the group just in time to witness a combination of explosive attacks. Ms. Fortune, who had bound up the creature with her own body, separated and then came back together like a living bomb before getting out of the way just in time for Blazermate to unleash what he could only describe as point blank annihilation upon it. That was it. That had to be it. A burgeoning hope started to build in his chest as he watched the creature's shadow contort within the beam of light and then…no…no! How?!?

It was still standing. The creature was still standing. Was it even winded? No! It was still on the attack, lifting its head to scream at the sky and call down another of those lightning beams right on Blazermate.

It wasn’t the only one screaming this time. Link charged down the beach, finding one of the goop trails Junior had left for Rika and skating down it onto the water. Both of his cannons resounded, a full broadside slamming into the creature as he vaulted the wave of lightning that sprung from Blazermate’s position, the noise they made only matched by the primal scream coming from Links throat. He screamed in frustration, at the unfairness of this thing’s sturdiness, but most of all he just wanted this nightmare over and done with before he had to see even one more comrade on the ground.

The creature turned to face him, swinging its blade out at him as he approached, but his fingers were already on the slate. A column of ice sprung up in the blade's way, shattering on impact but knocking the blade off course. Link didn't slow down and never stopped firing as the distance closed between them. It yanked the black back into its grip and swung as Link closed into melee range, but he ducked under its swing and rose up fist first. The black iron of the Ro Cestus covered his arm again, and through it he aimed the full force of his desperate charge right at the creature's face.

[Dark Cloud]

Level: 3 (9/30 EXP)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Graveyard of the Peaks
Word Count: Less Than 750 Words (+1 EXP)
_{Interaction: Everyone}

Amidst the whipping wind and the cold blustery snowfall it seemed the prince's words fell upon deaf ears "F-Fine f-freeze to death for a-all I c-care," Laharl spat at the Seekers sneering angrily, his lip curling up through chattering teeth as he scrunched up his face "G-Go ahead and g-get yourselves KILLED!" all at once his frustration over where he was and how he needed to lower himself by taking orders rather than giving them, it all came full circle. He was angry he had lost his purpose, his allies, his power and most of all a sense of control.

Yet amidst the howling wind and snow, between gravestones and snowbanks something gave the half-demon the strangest feeling. He had opened his mouth to say something yet shut it abruptly, something giving Laharl pause in the midst of his royal tirade to perk his pointed ears and furrow his brow turning his head towards the building in the distance that Big Band had initially pointed out then he heard something, or rather someone.

"Help! Please, someone! Help!" it was unmistakable, the voice, no that voice. Laharl knew it or rather whom it belonged to and it was the only reason he hadn't stormed off down the mountain. If it was the angel then maybe just maybe he wasn't alone in the world, maybe Etna was lost somewhere and maybe even up this cursed mountain. Suddenly he felt something, unlike anything he had ever felt before like something ignited in him almost akin to a fire being kindled to life or the ignition in a car being turned and the key was this feeling and it was hope. Was this what everyone else had? Was it carrying them up the mountain? Was this what having a purpose felt like?

Laharl's fists turned white from tightly cracking the bones in his knuckles, gripping his winter jacket hard within his grip as he stared into the heart of the blizzard the sneer on his face disappearing, gritting his teeth as he tried to stop their nigh incessant chatter. Shaking furiously from both the cold that bit his joints and the fire in his heart Laharl opened his mouth shouting with purpose in his voice.

"I-I AM COMING!" voice carrying well past the Seekers up ahead, full of newfound vigor and purpose the demon boy began to claw through the snow with flames to melt it away, vaulting himself over the tombs dotting the mountainside throwing balls of flame up ahead as he desperately climbed up by himself "I WON'T LET YOU DIE!" had it been under less dire of situations the prince would have likely made an excuse or even pulled a childish face to appear disgusted yet at the moment he wanted more than anything to see someone he knew, and deep in his stubborn little heart he really cared about the well-being of the people he often called his servants.

[Yankee]

^{____________________________________________________}
Level: 6 - Total EXP: 77/60 ------ Level: 2 - Total EXP: 19/20
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
Word Count: 877 (+2 exp)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Split Mountain

One step at a time.

The last leg of the journey almost seemed possible, at first. Filing in behind Big Band and moving forward like the world's slowest arrow, the Seekers pushed through the blizzard. Snow was piling up by the second, numbing their legs and slowing them down. Wind pushed against them and forced them to stop at times. But they persevered, little by little. Primrose held tight to the people clinging to each of her hands and focused on channeling the flame of Warmth through her palms and into theirs', staving off as much of the cold as she could. The summit was so close. If they could just bear the storm for a little longer, they could make it... there was no way that their journey to the top had been in vain as Laharl suggested before he split off. That just wouldn't do. All they had to do was keep walking forward.

Easier said than done.

It was getting harder and harder to progress, because somehow the mountain had more to throw at them. Earlier Therion had felt that the wind was so cold it was cutting his skin - now that actually was the case, it's speed and power tearing holes in his shawl, and Primrose's cloak. When her white scarf was ripped away from her neck she gasped, and immediately regretted it as the cold soaked into her throat. She clamped her mouth shut and stubbornly continued walking, practically dragging Therion with her. At some point the Seekers had to let go of their formation, but so long as they could hear Band's music over the din of the storm then they would be able to keep together. That was the hope at least. Only, the wind's roar had grown so loud that his notes barely carried, and the snow so heavy that visibility was nearly zero.

These conditions were on and off, but frequent enough that being lost on the mountain was a real possibility. The two that had gone on ahead were still nowhere to be seen, and they only had a couple minutes on the rest of the Seekers - and after a particularly harsh burst of wind when Primrose looked at the group, it seemed like it was missing a couple of members too. Confused, she swept the area with her eyes and spotted Panther, Skull, and Mona a little ways behind them.

Then another gust picked up the snow and colored everything white, forcing the Seekers to draw in on themselves for what little protection that offered, and when it died down again the three were no longer lagging behind but completely gone.

"Panther!?" Primrose made to move to where she'd last seen the Thieves, but she didn't get farther than a single step back. The hand in hers squeezed tightly, bringing a short lived relief that the dancer hadn't just been dragging around her friend's frozen corpse. It also stopped her in place, and when she followed the arm it was attached to up to Therion's face she met his cold eyes. He pulled her forward.

"What are you doing?" Primrose hissed at him, her voice stuttering from cold and barely rising above the wind. "They c-could die if we leave them."

"We will die if we waste t-time looking for them." As soon as the words left Therion's mouth he knew Primrose would be pissed at him. Sure enough he felt the heat of her stare even through the blizzard. He met her frustration with stubbornness, keeping their hands locked tightly together and pressing his lips into a thin line. He didn't know what most of these weirdos did to gain the dancer's favor, but she did always have a soft spot for those younger than her.

"They know where we're g-going. They'll either g-go up or back d-down," he said to reason with her. They really shouldn't be stopped here, the blizzard was too dangerous to stand around in. Right now more than anything Therion just wanted to get to the summit and then get off of this mountain as soon as possible. Primrose shared his sentiments there, but she still looked torn between continuing on and searching for the teens. She looked to the remaining Phantom Thieves, particularly at Necronomicon. Although Primrose probably would never be able to truly understand how the persona functioned, she knew at least that she had some way of tracking or sensing people.

"Alibaba?" She asked, no need to voice her question out loud to the spacecraft. She let Therion drag her forward to regroup with those remaining, hoping that Necronomicon had some kind of read on the missing Thieves. Maybe Panther and Skull were already calling out to let everyone know they were alright, but their voices were being drowned by the storm. The wind switched between smothering sounds and carrying them, cutting them up - shouting from further down the mountain could be heard, but the words were muddled by the blizzard. Primrose wondered if Laharl hadn't changed his mind again and was on his way up, maybe he would run into Panther and Skull in that case. Some wishful thinking passed through her mind that once the Guardian of this area was defeated the storm would subside and they'd be able to rescue anyone left stranded. Of course, that lead back to the mission at hand: they had to reach the summit first.

[Gentlemanvaultboy]

Linkle

Merge Rate: 33%

Word Count: 296

Level 10 - (26/100) + 1

Location: Frozen Highlands ~ Snowdin - Treat's Doll House

@Dark Cloud@Majoras End

---

---

Linkle quirked an eyebrow at the Stalfos. What on earth did he mean "why?" His response triggered just as much confusion in her as her summery execution of the man had inspired in him. She tilted her head, puzzling out what it was about this situation that would be unclear or hard to understand. Maybe he just hadn't been filled in on the circumstances on the way here. "You know the wolf girl?" She answered. "He was living in her walls and creeping on her and got so scared of her taking off that he was gonna' 'disassemble' her. Lucky I was here, so that couldn't have happened." She puffed out her chest, full of the same pride an exterminator feels when they bag a particularly large rat.

Speaking of things that scurry around where they weren't wanted, she turned back to the pile of ash that had once been the man and zeroed in on the his spirit. As she crouched down and swept some of the ash away to scoop it up, Albedo asked about of she felt. Reaching over and feeling down her arm and the side of her chest, she flinched slightly as she pinched down at a few spots. "A little bruised maybe. I really couldn't dodge in the dark, and he could see a little better than me I think. Other than that and the sweat I worked up, I'm fine."

Upon learning that that Stalfos was named Papyrus, and the happy news that Treat had gotten out of the basement A-OK (though with the caveat that she had hurt herself in her haste to get Linkle's weapons, a statement that made the girl flinch worse than any bruise), the small group bid farewell to the basemen and ascended up the ladder back into the the sunlight.

Linkle waved down at the stricken wolf girl with both arms as she descended the stairs. "I told you I was good at this!" She said, picking out the pace and taking the stairs two or three at a time.

"This isn't going to be any trouble." Linkle said eagerly as they began discussing getting the girl to a town so she could get her leg looked at, though thinking about it one obstacle did present itself. "Hey Papyrus, you're pretty tall." She said. Tall and strong went together pretty often. "Do you think you could carry a cool magic fireplace?"

[MULTI_MEDIA_MAN]

Geralt of Rivia

Carcass Isle- Where All Things Must Come

Lvl 9 (20/90) -> Lvl 9 (24/90)

Word Count: 530 words

As Nadia flew towards the Orphan, Geralt drew his silver blade yet again and rushed in, circling around to a safe area once Blazermate put her Medaforce beam into action, launching an absolutely devastating blow against the Guardian that easily beat out any single shot even the Breaching Bastion could deliver. While he was unable to advance during the duration of the beam, it did give him a moment to re-cast Quen, shielding himself yet again.

As he closed in during the moment of vulnerability, he caught not only the bolt of lightning that slammed Blazermate into the beach like a fist from the heavens, but Link's own charging barrage. The Shipboy hero rode the goop that Junior had laid down as an obstacle for the Orphan, unloading his guns into the thing before engaging in melee with speed that was hard to believe. As his Ro Cestus counterattack slammed into the Orphan's face, Geralt's blade carved a bloody line through the back of its neck, failing to deliver the decapitating swing Geralt had hoped it would, but still managing a painful blow.

With a curse, he lifted his blade and deflected the blade which spun around at him, thankfully devoid of much of its momentum after Link's blow slightly stunned the creature. As the organic weapon crashed into the sand, Geralt sliced and diced at the monster in between the two Seekers, only barely reacting to the backhand he got in retaliation. As it hefted its blade and leapt away, taking a swing at him, Geralt moved through the attack, dodging forward and past the blade, closing the distance yet again as the Orphan landed and spun its blade about its body, centripetal force giving the incoming blow significantly greater power.

The clash of mysterious material on silver let out a shower of sparks and a hideous noise, and the shield granted by Quen flickered and shattered as Geralt full-on blocked the blow, his bones aching but unrelenting. As he pushed the blade back, he quickly spun his much lighter weapon in a practiced maneuver, scoring a trio of lighter but true cuts against the Guardian's upper and lower torso as well as its thigh, before rolling under and away from the follow-up blow that he didn't have the protective magic to tank.

Moving back in, Geralt swung again and again, the proverbial clock ticking towards Blazermate's destruction under the unstoppable waves of lightning spurring him to do his old job yet again and kill the monster. He tried to avoid blocking or deflecting attacks whenever possible, but this more aggressive style meant he was taking greater risks with the hope of ending the fight sooner rather than later.

With the support of the others, though, he knew this could very well be the end. This thing was bleeding, charred, smoking, just littered with wounds.

They could do this! Geralt grunted as he dodged another blow, his stamina finally starting to flag. His breaths were coming quicker and heavier, but he was still going. A little soreness never stopped him before. He'd get plenty of rest and meditation once this was over with and they were safe.

[Yankee]

Word Count: 667 (+4 exp)
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 112/80
Location: Edge of the Blue

The Ace Cadet waited only as long as it took Blazermate and Kamek to convene and heal Sakura before he broke away from his impromptu guard post. Though it had been hard to watch Sakura get beaten into the dirt, that kid was tough so he knew she would be fine after a pick me up. Now it was time to go back on the attack. Well, after one thing. The hunter put plenty of space between himself and the healers, adding his own little bump of health to the Seekers at large in the form of his last lifepowder. The spores spread out and did their job, giving that little extra bit of healing to the group and patching up the smaller injuries that had started to pile up. By the time the situation with Sakura was sorted and the Cadet was ready to move, Geralt had already pitched Nadia and the feral had stunned the Orphan with her explosive move - then came back together in one piece, thankfully.

The Cadet glanced at the Hat Kid ice sculpture. "Get ready, we're gonna charge," he told her, giving her the opportunity to take a breather before they moved in. It had been several grueling minutes with every wound an ally took seeming to stretch the time out, but the battle had to be nearing its end. Just so long as the Orphan didn't pull out another form change. "Eradicating fiends like that is the meaning of justice. Let's go!"

In the next moment the Cadet was running down the beach toward the surf with Hat Kid perched on his shoulder. Blazermate's beam attack went flying by and slammed right into Galeem's Guardian, but even that wasn't enough to stop the monster. Eager to get back into the fray directly the Cadet ran all the harder towards it, following the trail Link blazed. Rigging weapons primed he moved up, too far now to even attempt to help out Blazermate after the lightning dropped down on her. He'd just focus on putting in as much damage as possible so that they could put a stop to all this.

"Kid!" he said, signaling to the girl on his shoulder that they'd need her ice form again. Once she slotted herself into place the Cadet used the weapon as a spring to vault them over the shock waves, calling on a combination of his experience with the Great Sword and the Insect Glaive, plus the Ice Hat's own ability. It was effective, and once clear of that danger the duo landed on the water and rushed right towards a different kind.

"Heads up!" He skated forward on the water, adding his rigging's gunshots to the ones already boring into the Orphan. He came around from behind the Hylian, intending to follow up Link's uppercut with the lance turned ice hammer. Raising it over his head, the Cadet swiftly brought the weapon down on the Orphan's skull where Link had popped it up. The strike sent the monster crashing into the waves for a second, powerless to stop any of Geralt's slices, and then it was propelled back into the air again. The Orphan was already starting to regain it's bearings, raising it's blade to retaliate against the Seekers engaging it at that moment. It lashed out, attacking the three men indiscriminately. The Cadet was banking on his armor protecting him from a lethal hit, focusing on keeping the precious ice statue out of shattering range. At one point the Orphan screeched and aimed it's blade at one of the other's heads, and the Cadet rushed forward to use the body of the Sharq Attack to block the blow. The force of it took a huge chunk out of the frozen sharq and sent reverberations through the Cadet's arms but he held tight. With Hat Kid hanging in there he once again brought the weapon down on the Orphan, knowing that after that attack the lance wasn't much longer for this world. But they were so close. So close! They had to be!

_@Dawnrider

[DracoLunaris]

The Koopa Troop

wordcount: 858 (+6)
Bowser: Level 10 EXP: //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (173/100)
Bowser Jr: Level 9 EXP: ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (125/90)
Kamek: Level 10 EXP: ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////(45/100)
Location: Bottomless Sea – Carcass Isle
Feat: Rika

”uh oh” went Jr as the shells didn't really do much individually to the monster. No karts were sent spinning here. Instead the Orphan only received a series of annoying bonks that served to get the it’s attention and draw it to the prince who was wheeling around giving a volley of fire and alongside Kamek, Mimi and Peach, with Rika edging around, still hurt, trying to find a line between safety and usefulness. A line the prince failed to balance upon.

Blasting boils hurled by the monster failed to strike him down, but a brutal swing caught him on the shell, launching the small prince out into the waters with a cry of fear and pain, along with his sholder-born companion.

“I got you! I got you!” Rika cried out as she used her remaining strength to dash into the prince’s path and catch him in her arms, an action that fortunately only bruised her torso rather than impaling it on the prince’s spikes.

The light little Mimi meanwhile found herself drifting down onto Kamek’s palm, and as effectively the only member of the troup not hurt and/or worn down to the bone. Getting to ride the battle out on your trainer’s shoulder would do that after all. The other three members still on the field looked haggard to hell and back, and yet the fight still wasn’t over.

Closer to the beach the others pulled up what might well be their last reserves in a series of attempted finishers. Nadia got herself all wrapped up around it and then seemed to more or less blow herself up, which was an alarming desperate looking play. Even more alarming was the fact that Blazermate’s massively blasting mega beam got her struck by lightning for her troubles. Which rapidly become everyone else’s troubles as another wave of lighting washed out over the bay.

“Oh shoot not again! Uh, Uh,” Rika panicked as she found herself holding a hurt and groaning Jr as the lighting approached with nothing but water behind her rather than a nice safe cliff to scale.

”Up here” Kamek called as she drifted down with Mimi riding at the tip of her broom once more. The mage held out an arm and said ”young master! Take my hand!”

”uuuugh, everything hurts” the prince complained as he reached up, gripped the mage’s offered arm by the wrist and was grabbed by his own in turn. ”I’ve got you” the prince’s long suffering caretaker insisted as she strained to haul him up into the air and up out of Rika’s supporting arms. To the prince’s holder Kamek asked ”You’ll be alright too, won’t you?”

The shipgirl nodded and gave her a not so reassuring “mmm” as she backed away into the sea, leaving the koopas to just barely manage an ascend high enough that the lightning swept under them.

The ship girl got as much distance as she could, took a deep breath, and then sped back towards the wave of energy. Not exactly being built for jumping or athletics, when she jumped and tried to clear the hurdle leg power alone wasn't enough. Even as she turned all her guns and cannons downwards and blasted them into the waves, using both the recoil of the guns and the updraft of the explosions to give her extra height to it was just not quite clear the electrical shockwave.

Rika cried out in pain as the lighting arched up from where her feet clipped the wave of lightning, and then stumbled her landing, winding up with one gauntlet down in the surf. Jr dropped down from Kamek’s lift to try and help, but he too stumbled his landing, and found himself up to his knees in water and clutching the side of his shell where a crack ran alongside it.

Ahead of them, the attempts to finally just end the Orphan continued, as the previously stunned Link came in with a hail Mary of an uppercut, the ace cadet wielded a frozen hat kid as a hammerhead and the Witcher clad himself in spellcraft. All of them assailed the beast with all his fury and skill, seeking that last blow that would end this fight.

”I only have a bit of mana left, but it will have to do between me and you” Kamek told Mimi, deciding she’d best put it back to work with the old reliable spell.

Under her orders the little mon lept off of Kamek’s broom and plopped down into the, for her, rather deep waters as the mage chanted

”
You who once was littlest,
And now will be largest,
Show this child of the grave
of whom it should be afraid!”

And pushed the remains of her mana reserves into Mimi, causing the pint sized pokemon to grow and grow in size till her cotton clad bulk formed a cloth barrier between the hurt young ones under Kamek’s care and the child of Kos.

With a grand and deep “Miiii Miiii” the now towering hidden horror extended her kraken’s tentacle of an arm and then plunged it into the surf. At first it might be thought that she was simply standing there, until you noticed how her engulfing shadow began to stretch out further and further, blocking out more and more of the moonlight as it snuck its way beneath the orphan and the heroes fighting to bring it down.

Then a specter joined their dance of death, a hulking thing of ghostly might reaching up from the darkness at their feet and clawing at the orphan's back again and again and again, adding the oversized Mimiku’s power to the battle without ever getting in the way of the others, or her leaving her towering guard over the tired and hurt troop.

At least that is what she would do until Kamek overtaxed magic reserves finally gave up the ghost, and that would not be long, of that the mage herself was quite sure.

[Zoey Boey]

Level 7: 49/70
Location: Carcass Isle- Kosm's Beach
Word Count: 580
Points Gained: 4
New EXP Balance--- Level 7: 53/70

Sakura’s big brown eyes opened with a start. Her health erupted back up to a startling 100%. For a moment she looked at Bella and Peach and the whirling Kamek clones around her, who pointed their magic wands quite redundantly at her now. Normally there would be some residual pain to push through, but their magic had taken care of that. Sakura felt brand new! Though her body had used up the energy required for this get out of jail free card. Regardless: It was time for Round Two.

Bella was looking quite upset that Sakura was hurt. Again. The street fighter wondered when she would break the news to Bella that Sakura professionally blocked punches with her face. For fun. Maybe later.

Sakura wrenched herself from the earth she was pummeled into, sitting up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Let’s go!” She shouted. She pushed away and dismissed any hypothetical protests otherwise, scrambled to her feet, and ran back into the fray. The Orphan was near the beach now, and her allies were laying into the foul beast. One after the other, the monster couldn’t seem to rid itself of their onslaught. It’s ticket had been punched. It’s short, violent life was about to come to an end.

Sakura moved around the side, skimming over the ocean’s surface to get a good angle on the creature. Link, Geralt, Cadet, Hat Kid, and everyone was mustering the full might of their powers. The monster couldn’t catch a break. Sakura was eager to play her part in the chain. Seeing the masters at work got her blood pumping. Time to end this. It was all going to be worth it. They just had to win.

Sakura’s getting knocked unconscious had lost her V-meter, but her EXTRA SPECIAL Meter was ready to go. Taking big hits meant she just had a better chance to do a comeback.

As she got closer, she noticed something she had missed. Blazermate had marked some kind of weak spot on the creature’s neck. Had that been there the whole time? In all the particle effects, Sakura must have missed it! Time to take advantage, while the creature was distracted with her monster hunting companions. Geralt, Link, and Cadet. The three guys put together had slain more epic monsters than Sakura had eaten hot meals. With them coordinating their strikes, the Blue Team couldn’t lose! Sakura leaned forward and skimmed faster, circling around behind the meleed creature. Sakura took her opportunity right as the shadow manifestation if Mimi returned to its owner.

As the Orphan swung wildly, the street fighter leapt cleanly over the 360 swipe. The sweet features of her face were stretched by the precise killing intent she now possessed. She planted her feet cleanly on the back of the creature and kicked off of it, doing some stomp damage and back-flipping even higher into the air. At the apex of her retreating leap, she span once again. For a brief second she hovered there, in the air. Then, pushed by her internal ki alone, she shot towards the back of the monsters head.

“You’re through!” She shouted. With a vibrant flash, she drilled a flying kick into the back of the creature’s neck, where she saw Blazermate's critical marker. There was a sharp crack and bright flash, like a heavy firework, as the kick connected. Sakura’s sneaker would either thrust deep into the back of the creature’s neck until she bounced off. Or her converse sneaker would crush all the way through like the lance of an airborne cavalry charge.

[Lugubrious]

Tora, Poppi, and Big Band

Location: Sandswept Sky - Graveyard of the Peaks
Level 9 Tora (142/90) Level 9 Poppi (142/90) Level 5 Big Band (80/50)
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Fox’s @Dawnrider, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, and the Scout
Word Count: 3455

Eyes as wide as saucers, Big Band blinked a couple times just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but no matter how much he might wish otherwise there was no mistaking it. In the space of just a few moments amidst the turbulent tempest, the three Phantom Thieves who’d fallen behind had completely and utterly disappeared, without a single trace. “Good heavens,” he breathed, his mind racing to figure out what happened, but at every turn his train of thought hit a dead end. It seemed impossible that the same storm front which only battered the rest of the Seekers managed to hurl those downwind from the slope, or leave them buried beneath the snow, even if all three of them gave up the ghost and collapsed simultaneously. Yet they were gone all the same.

For those who remained, disbelief, astonishment, and woe ran amuck. After staring down for a few seconds in horror, Tora glanced at Poppi, silently imploring her for any reassurance her keen sensors might be able to offer, but she shook her head. Several team members made ready to race downhill in search of their vanished friends, but before any more barely-warm bodies could tumble through the stupefyingly cold snow, cooler heads prevailed. Therion stopped Primrose before she could begin her descent, and though none of the others could hear their urgent exchange through the ceaseless caterwaul of snowstorm, they could reach the same conclusions. The Seekers stood knee-deep in a haystack that extended as far as anyone could see in every direction, and in these conditions searching for three needles would demand far more time and energy than they had.

Tora’s head swam, not just from the piercing chill that seemed to numb his very brain, but from the unfairness of it all. In his heart of hearts he knew that if he wanted to make it through, he didn’t have much of a choice at all, but clinging to that justification only made him feel worse. An awful weight had come to rest in his guts, coagulated from the guilt he felt for spurring everyone onward. Not for a second did he believe that anyone would actually falter in this decisive final stretch of their journey–how could such a horrible, ignominious thing happen to such awesome heroes, after all? Now, however, the Nopon was beginning to realize that he’d made a terrible mistake. His friends were not safe. Poppi wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe. He began to shake, wondering how many more would disappear before the party reached their destination. How many more gone, lost in the blizzard, just like that?

Though almost as rattled as their naive Nopon defender, the remaining Thieves managed to keep their despair at bay. Like Primrose they looked to their navigator for guidance, knowing that if anyone could offer any clue to their friends’ conditions or whereabouts, it was Necronomicon. Sure enough, the Persona had already kicked her scanners and diagnostics into overdrive, pinging the snowfield again and again in a flurry of activity. Just seconds later the results were in, checked and rechecked, and using the Thieves’ radio channel she relayed her findings. “I’m not picking up anything within a couple hundred meters, and my transmissions to them didn’t complete, prolly ‘cause of the storm! They’re not anywhere around here!”

Brows furrowed, Joker nodded repeatedly. “Okay. Okay. That means they either b-blew down the mountain and can glide to safety, or s-s-something took them.”

“You th-think M-master Hand left something in the storm, after all?” Though only a couple feet away from his friend, Fox’s voice only came through clearly thanks to their communication line.

“Maybe. Might be what h-happened to the others, too. P-picking us off one by one. Whatever the case, we’ve g-gotta keep moving.”

Joker waved his arm, signaling the team to keep moving. Band raised an eyebrow as if to ask if the teenager was sure. After a stiff nod he replied in kind, turned, and began to spearhead the uphill slog once more. Anger at the kids’ disappearance infused the detective with an adrenaline shot of defiant determination, and unwilling to lose anyone else, he took a deep breath. “Guess I gotta play over you.” He put his lips to his mouthpiece, and his soul into his music. His saxophone blared out in revolt against the snowstorm, fighting back against its howl with a strident symphony of jazz, pitting sweet blues against the tide of bitter white that sought to drown him out. The world around him, already rendered claustrophobic by the storm that closed in around him, shrunk even further as he squeezed his eyes shut, rendering him blind even to the allies that pushed doggedly onward alongside him. Nothing existed but his solo, a grave procession of rhythms and footfalls taken one at a time. Too focused to count the minutes, he played on and on, step by step and note by note, until the one-man-band finally ran out of breath.

Covered in snow and frozen stiff, unable to take another step, Band pulled his chapped lips from his mouthpiece at last. His eyes opened one last time, peering upward into the wind at the split peak. For all his herculean effort, it seemed no closer. Just like always. The corners of his mouth twisted into a wry smile. Whether against injustice or the elements, no one man could soldier onward forever. At this final hour it all came to nothing, his noble aspirations unfulfilled, the sad story of his life wrapped up in another unhappy ending. Had his purpose, his old-fashioned visions of truth and justice, service and protection, all been an exercise in futility?

No. Nobody lasted forever. Every journey had its end, and wherever that might be, it didn’t mean that the journey had been meaningless. As he sank to his knees in the snow, the man once known as Ben Birdland felt oddly at peace. Like he could pass on content in the knowledge that he stuck to his guns the whole way through–that he held high the word of law, no matter how far it might have fallen. He only regretted not making it through to the end. “Salt…” he grunted, lamenting the mischief that Peacock would no doubt get up to in his absence. “...peanuts.” Then he fell, face-first in the snow, and was still.

The loud metallic slam made Tora jump. He loosened his death grip on Poppi Alpha for a moment to look back for the first time in ages, and saw where Band had collapsed. For a moment he stood there in the roaring wind and cruel cold, mouth agape, before what he was seeing really began to sink in. Aside from the detective, there was no sign of…anyone. Not Primrose and Therion, not Joker and Fox, not Raz, not Sectonia, and not Braum. “F-f-friends?” he quavered, the voice that welled within him feeble. “Friends!?” he then called, louder and more fearful, desperately scanning the snowstorm for even the vaguest silhouette of one of his allies who’d surely just fallen behind.

But nobody came.

“...Meh-meh,” Tora gulped. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be the last one standing, having outlasted the others purely by virtue of his robust constitution. Fading fast, he turned to his companion and pressed himself against her, desperate for any modicum of heat. “Poppi. Poppi!” he wept, tears welling up in his eyes. “Everyone gone. Everyone! We only ones left! Poppi, you hear? It just you and…and…”

Her ether furnace was cold. Speechless, Tora stared up at Poppi’s expressionless face. She was offline.

“P..P…Poppi?” he stammered, cold tears streaming from his eyes to freeze on his fuzzy, frost-bitten cheeks. “No. No! Come back, Poppi! There have to be more ether! Please turn on Poppi, don’t leave me! Don’t leave Tora…alone…” The Nopon sagged to the ground, his muscles limp. With his last conscious thought, he nudged his head against Poppi’s leg. Then his eyes slid shut.

When he opened them again, he found himself surrounded by dreamlike stillness. Beneath him he found a glowing white expanse, and above him a swirling gray sky. It wasn’t hot, or cold, or anything. He felt weirdly fine. Great, even, as if he’d just woken up from a nice, long nap. No pain or fatigue or discomfort of any kind troubled him. “Meh, meh meh? Is Tora…dead!?” A little groggy and very confused, he put his wings against the ground and pushed himself up. His gaze fell on the backs of six robed figures, facing away from him, and before his eyes they faded away. As they disappeared, they left behind a dim, distant light in the sky that flickered like a star, drawing Tora’s attention. He squinted, trying to make it out, until he realized that it must be the mountain’s split peak.

Then two arms grasped him from behind and hauled him into the air. “Meh meh meh!” he yelped, struggling for a moment until he felt himself pressed against a familiar chest. As the arms squeezed him tight in a hug craned his neck around to see the face of Poppi QT Pi, her core ablaze with the vivid orange of ether. A golden glow surrounded her body, and after a brief moment Tora realized it was on him, too. “Poppi!” he cried, seconds away from bursting into tears of joy. “Tora thought he lost you! What the heck going on!?”

Some sort of power seemed to be welling up around them. The artificial blade glanced up through the clouds at the far-off light, and tightened her grasp around her creator’s middle. “Poppi have no idea, but Masterpon should brace himself!”

“Brace!? Brace for what!?”

The next second he and Poppi launched skyward, zooming up at a breakneck pace. “Meeeeeeeeeeeh!” Tora cried, both his and Poppi’s hair and clothes whipped into a frenzy by the wind, as the pair left the mountainside behind. Together they shot up into a swirling tunnel of storm clouds, like surfers in the tube of a wave. As they ascended, both became aware of other golden lights soaring in the same direction ahead of them. One was close enough that the dynamic duo was able to catch up, and as they circled around the blazing trail it left behind they recognized Big Band in his rocket form. Delighted to see the detective alive and well, Tora waved at him, and Band tipped his hat in reply.

Not even bothering to ask if he knew anything and just along for the ride now, Tora turned his attention back to the light at the end of the tunnel. Green flashes in the stormclouds illuminated dark shapes as they cut through, like sharks in the water. Only after a couple broke through into the vortex could the Nopon really make them out, although they still didn’t quite make sense. Though shaped like great six-winged serpents, each blocky body was segmented into a series of stony pieces, and from each head shone a single ferocious searchlight. The creatures veered dangerously close, but Poppi didn’t seem able to change course, so with no other options, Tora held on for dear life. Well before the Guardian could strike them, however, a brilliant green beam slammed into its body, blasting it out of the way. Tora peered in the direction of the source, but got only the briefest glimpse at a familiar figure clad in white before he and Poppi were long gone. With Big Band just ahead of them, the duo continued to speed upward, higher and higher through the thickening haze, until finally…

They reached the sky.

---

The Apex of the World

In a puff of fluffy vapor, Tora and Poppi emerged from the clouds, and even without needing to breathe the artificial blade shared her Masterpon’s gasp of amazement. They found themselves struck dumb by the sight of pristine mountains that rose like islands from a sea of clouds beneath the clearest, bluest sky that either of them had ever seen, tinged only on one side by the colors of the coming sunset. It was so like their home of Alrest that a flood of memories swept over them, leaving both quite unable to speak. Frosted peaks sparkled like jewels in that late afternoon radiance, so dazzlingly bright that Tora had to rub his eyes. A procession of spires led toward a grand ring of lesser peaks, arranged like an ancient council around a vast basin, and over that primeval conclave loomed the uncontested eminence of the mountain’s summit: the split peak whose inexplicable effulgence could be seen from every corner of the Sandswept Sky.

No matter how far either Tora or Poppi looked in any other direction, they could find no other solid ground, but the clouds formed breathtaking vistas of their own. They did, however, manage to spot distant islands that floated in the empty air, as well as the majestic temples and towering citadels. For now though, they focused on the objective before them. Still empowered by the golden glow, Poppi soared after Big Band, following the flat-top spires like stepping stones. They made for the vast crimson gate that stood atop the last spire, for around its pillars they spotted a group of familiar figures. Elated beyond description, Tora and Poppi cruised straight there, and after only a few moments they touched down.

“Hey, hey! Took ya guys long enough!” Skull greeted them, a big grin plastered across his face. He and Panther sat together on a rock, holding hands while Mona sat at their feet, trying not to look dejected.

After a brofist of epic proportions with Big Band, Braum stomped over to sweep Tora and Poppi onto his shoulders, wearing a smile so warm it was hard to believe the snow wasn’t melting. “Aha, welcome, little ones! I am so very, very glad to see everyone safe and sound!” Indeed, a quick head count turned up each and every Seeker who had undertaken the climb. Save one.

A moment later, however, a grappling hook attached to the edge of the platform, and the next second the Scout appeared. He looked cold, exhausted, and thoroughly miserable, with no sign of the golden aura that clung to everyone else. Seeing everyone, his jaw dropped in astonishment, and he plopped down into a sitting position. “Bloody hell, how’d you lot beat me up here!?”

Joker blinked. “Did you…climb up here on your own?”

“Well, I used me ol’ grappler, plus Engie’s platform gun, but yeh, pretty much,” the dwarf replied. “Could really go for a beer right now.”

“At this point, I ain’t even gonna question it,” Band sighed. “I sure as hell can’t explain it, but I’m groovin’ high like a new man. Never flown like that before, either.”

Though confused as everyone else, Necronomicon offered her diagnosis. “It looks like everyone’s in peak condition, somehow! No wounds, no hypothermia, nothing. Plus, I’m detecting some kind of buff. Must be how everyone flew up here.”

Panther nodded. “Yeah, like, one minute I was dying in the blizzard, and the next my glider opens up all on its own. Me, Skull, and Mona just fwooshed straight to the top, right past all these crazy giant rock snakes.”

“We saw Ram!” Tora supplied. “She help clear way for us with biggy-big lasers, meh!”

Fox appeared contemplative. “So, it was some sort of test, after all. When we faltered in our attempt to reach the summit, we received some sort of vision, then got flown up to the top. Rather poetic, in a way. Would that I had my paints with me.” He held out his fingers in two L-shapes, putting them together to form a rectangle that he swept over the scenery. “This environment really is quite remarkable.”

“Considering how high we are, I thought it would be colder, but it actually quite nice,” Poppi observed, her arms crossed. “Poppi certainly not complain. All well that end well, I suppose?”

Skull looked annoyed. “I dunno, as challenges go, that one was pretty bullshit. I mean, just plod up a mountain until you keel over to win?”

“Yeah, that was pretty unintuitive,” Mona agreed. “Good thing we’re all stupid.”

“Speak for yourself,” Band gruffed. “Whatever the case, we ain’t there just yet.” He pointed toward the nearest lesser peak, joined to the spire where everyone rested by a bridge of brown cloth. “Now that we’re all here and fightin’-fit, we oughta boogie on over there. Our head honcho’s just around the corner.”

Once everyone had their bearings, the whole troop could proceed. While the cloth bridge didn’t look like it could support the weight of Tora, let alone Big Band and Braum, the golden glow that still shone from the ascendants caused runes to light up along its length, and over the rippling fabric they could flow without issue. After making their way across, the heroes could make their way up a spiraling incline to a rocky pass between two of the ring’s peaks. Everyone knew to keep an eye out for the region boss, but the view that opened up before them took them by surprise.

Within the ring of peaks, between them and the split summit, lay an enormous basin, perfectly and unnaturally circular, with walls of dark bronze rather than stone. Manmade patterns emblazoned its interior, particularly the likenesses of men seized by suffering and grief. A great many bridges criss-crossed its span, reaching out from the edges or suspended from great chains, although the two sturdiest bridges lay across its top in a tremendous plus sign. Even from this here, four oxidized bronze statues of men could be seen on the bridge, one on each of the spokes that met at the center, and all held great chains of their own. It was so much to take in that the frontrunners almost didn’t notice a wizened, bent-over figure standing among the stones at the end of the pass until he spoke.

“O itinerant ones!” he hailed, drawing the Seekers’ attention. When they looked they found an old man, his ankles bound together by ropes and his hands tied behind his back, stooped by the weight of the jar that hung from his neck. “We traverse strange roads under the same firmament. My name is Redento, barefoot pilgrim of the Order of Genuflectors. Prithee taketh nay affront in my not looking at thy visage, for we at each moment lean forth, so as not to divert our eyes from the path. Such is our olde precept.”
He gestured to the metal basin before them. “We are before Jondo, the great buried bell, erected upside down so that its ringing would make the earth tremble and reach distant lands. Now Jondo resoundeth in a deep triune moan, that traveleth in echoes through its broad spiraling circles.”
Suddenly overcome by sorrow, he hung his head even further. “My feet wish to cross to the other side of this ancient valley to move onto the next destination. But I dare not venture forth, lest the creature knock me from the precipice. Oh, my sins! Who could help me?”
“Creature?” Big Band glanced out across Jondo. “What creature, old timer?”

Redento flicked his head. “There. Look!”

As he spoke, a shadow emerged from behind the eastern lesser peaks. It was a flying leviathan, its color like the desert sands, eel-like with its many winglike fins and odd protuberances. Three immense gas bladders allowed it to float, while four gleaming sunset-red eyes stared listlessly down at the great bell, and with a deep, low groan the beast began to circle. It took a second to get a grasp of its sheer size; each wing had to measure at least sixty feet in length, and the width of its body could support four cars driving side by side. Despite its vast size and bizarre biology it flew with an odd grace, the lazy circle it wove through the air devoid of hostility. There could be no doubt that this serpentine colossus was the monster glimpsed from the desert below, and the Guardian that the heroes had come to slay.

Ms Fortune

Location: Carcass Isle - Where All Things Must Come
Level 7 Nadia (79/70)
Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Hat Kid’s @Dawnrider, Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN, Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 1425

For the second time a monsoon of lightning crackled across the beach, and though it spread out from Blazermate’s position like a ripple on a pond to rage throughout the whole area, it wasn’t taking anyone by surprise this time. Opportunistic as ever and eager to save whatever she could of her flagging stamina, Nadia figured she’d make use of the devastation her enemy wrought earlier. On all fours she raced the wave to reach the spot where one of the boulders that the Orphan sundered from the craggy cliffside came to rest. With the gravitational reduction still very much in effect, she didn’t even need to let off a spurt of blue blood to pounce right up on top of the rock, and when the electric tide surged through her area a moment later, the feral remained high and dry. Confident that she’d be protected both going and coming from another nasty electrocution, she heaved a sigh of profound relief, and after a much-needed Nyawn to kickstart her recovery ndia turned her attention to her allies.

While Rika wiped out and Junior couldn’t help out until he got healed, everyone else managed to clear the shockwave, and together the wrathful band of heroes closed in on their loathsome adversary. Nadia was glad to see the Hero of the Wild back on his feet again, and Link did not disappoint. He led the charge into the shallows with a cannonade of Abyssal artillery and a blood-curdling scream that scared Nadia a lot more than any of the Orphan’s, seizing the monster’s attention while his comrades followed in his footsteps. Geralt’s long stride meant he joined the melee right on the smaller hero’s heels, his silver sword eager to claim its prize at last. After pulling off a sweet pole vault, Ace hurried after them, teamed up with an ice-bound Hat Kid once again to deal some serious damage. Even Mimi lent a hand or two, empowered by Kamek’s sorcery into a shadow force to be reckoned with. And as if that wasn’t enough, the sight of her fellow catgirl back in action filled Nadia with joy. Sakura leaped up from the mucky crater where the Orphan laid her to rest with barely a scratch on her, taking the distraught Bella so utterly by surprise that the she almost fell over backward, but once the Street Fighter got a move on the ecstatic Seaplane Tender joined her without a second thought.

Seeing everyone come together for the final bout, despite all the physical and mental pain they’d endured, today filled Nadia with exhilaration, piercing through the fatigue that weighed her down to stoke her inner fire. “Kick its gnarly ass, ya goddamn heroes!” she cheered, pumping her fists, and the heroes bent their efforts to the task.

Once Link paved the way with his Cryonis rune, he started off with a bang. His jawbreaker slammed into the Orphan’s mouth, shattering more than a few of its baby teeth, and as the nightmare reeled from the counterhit the rest of the Seekers descended on it with everything they had. What Link knocked up, Ace hammered down, and though it trashed around in the water Geralt’s argent blade danced through the storm, carving through muscle and gristle alike as he weathered its wanton fury. The grievous wounds he left behind made tempting targets for Mimi’s claws of darkness, whose savage mauling left the Orphan in such exquisite pain that it lashed out in blind fury. Yet even as they pressed their advantage in a whirlwind of shadow and steel, a flurry of activity so intense that Nadia could barely follow it, the Seekers watched out for one another. As Geralt stepped back, Ace went on the defensive, and Mimi withdrew, enough space opened up for Sakura to make her move.

She announced her return with a spectacular footstool-jump-turned-flip. As she hung in the air above it the Orphan craned its bloody, battered head upward, its jaw loosely flapping beneath baleful, soulless eyes. It began to move, but from the side Bella’s leviathan lunged forward to close its fearsome jaws around the nightmare’s eviscerated torso to hold it still. Then Sakura descended to mete out the death sentence that she pronounced. Her superlative divekick cannoned straight into the spinal cord exposed from its knotted flesh, and with a sickening crunch she ended what Geralt’s well-aimed chop had begun. The next second Sakura hit the ground, sliding to a stop in a spray of wet sand, and behind her the headless cadaver of the Orphan of Kos fell to its knees. It reeled limply backward one last time, as if seeking succor from the sky it could no longer see, then toppled forward into the shallow tidewater. Its gruesome husk exploded on contact, reduced to an ashy goop that fell over the beach like so much rain.

For a moment Nadia waited, scarcely daring to breathe. Then she slid down off her rock to patter across the sand, joining her allies at the water’s edge. For once, the feral was silent, since what was there to say? No words from her felt appropriate to cap off such an awful, despicable, egregious experience. Yet for all the abomination’s eldritch, unholy power, she and the other Seekers had beaten it. They were dirty, wounded, exhausted, and probably scarred for life, but they won. It would be a while before they could feel good about it, but still.

Having limped over, Peach put a hand on the shoulders of the nearest compatriots, those being Link and Junior. “Congratulations, everyone. This victory was hard-fought, to say the least, but at the end of it all we’re one step closer to achieving our goal. To saving not this world, but every world, and every soul between them. That is something worth savoring.” The princess gave a weak smile. “And I, for one, can’t imagine things getting any worse than that.” She glanced over at Nadia, curious as to why the feral seemed to be picking through the shallows where the Orphan had fallen. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, uh,” Nadia cleared her throat, a little embarrassed. “Well, just looking for loot, you know. That’s how these things work, right?”

“Sort of,” Peach replied, creasing her brow. Her expression darkened. “In…in fact…did anyone happen to, er…pick up its spirit?”

Blinking, Nadia looked around, but instead of a spirit she found something else. She stared quizzically at the body of a crab that seemed to be floating above the water. It levitated up into the air as if unaffected by gravity, but a pitch black cord hung down from its middle into the shallows. All around, corpses of small animals and globules of a tarlike substance were rising into the air. Nadia’s ears suddenly stood up straight, the hairs on the back of her neck on end and goosebumps breaking out across her skin. She sprang to her feet. “Somethin’s happenin’,” she hissed as her wide eyes swept across the beach. “Somethin’s very, very wrong…”

All across the beach, inky pools were welling up, turning the black sand into glossy, sticky tar. Fog had rolled in across the impossible sea, even though Nadia could feel no wind on her wet skin. She swallowed, and watched as some of the boulders scattered across the beach by the Orphan began to sink. In other places entirely new objects rose from the muck, rowboats, rafts, wagons and doors, all as briny and encrusted as everything in the fishing village, until the dilapidated roofs of a few whole buildings poked through. A slight but profoundly disquieting noise pivoted her ears behind her, and in a fright Nadia turned in the direction of the huge white corpse from which the Orphan had arisen. For a moment she frozen in terror, her eyes fixed on the vaguely humanoid shadow that hung above the beached cadaver. Then it was gone, and from the fog over the water beyond the shore, a tarry colossus appeared. Its fingers were but strands that extended into the water like dredge lines, an umbilical cord hung from its belly, and rather than a head, only a nest of grasping hands sprang from its shoulders. At its heart was a patch of golden crystal, from which a collapsed eye gazed drunkenly outward. The titan stood at least seven stories high, motionless for only a moment, before it slowly began to wade toward the shore.

[Gentlemanvaultboy]

Link

Word Count: 979

Level 8 - (05/80) + 4

Location: Carcass Island ~ Kosm's Beach

@DracoLunaris@Archmage MC

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The only reason that a scream of frustration didn't explode out of his mouth was that his throat was already spent from the first one.

The second that he had seen Sakura's shoe blow through that monster's skull it was as though the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. It was dead. Gone. Crumpled into ash and carried away by the surf. It, and the profound danger it presented to everyone around him, had finally come to an end. He didn't feel any exhilaration in the victory. Fear and fatigue had sapped the celebratory spirit from him, and he knew that back the way they had come was an army of monsters who had been praying to the creature they had just destroyed. It would be a hard fought battle back to their little airship. For now, at least for now though, they were safe.

It was Ms. Fortune that alerted him to how wrong he was, and he really should have noticed it sooner. According to what Linkle had told him, something was supposed to happen when The Guardian died. He had never seen what it looked like, but she had described it as a wave of darkness. He had seen its after effects though. It had to have been what had transformed the black void where they had done battle with the Dragon into the beautiful and serene Eryth Sea. Not only that, but she was right. They couldn't see the spirit of the creature anywhere.

What they could see were the changes that began to take place on this impossible beach. Gravity went haywire, bodies and liquid lifting into the air, and from the beach itself a black liquid started rising from the ground to consume the rocks and corpses not lucky enough to be lifted up. Link knelt down as he watched, gingerly lifting the nearby Junior up out of the surf as the liquid spread. Far from the clear water and floating islands, the defeat of the Guardian had made the island more treacherous instead of less. Things began to rise from the liquid, things that couldn't possibly have been just hiding under the sand. Boat's and debris he could believe, but when the roofs of buildings began rising out of the soup he was convinced that something even stranger was going on.

The cause of all this was apparent as soon as it stepped out of the thickening fog. A colossal beast stood there out in the surf, focusing on them with a single eye. There wasn't any doubt in Link's mind about what it was. Just like with Bowser, when they had knocked it down it had just risen again. Stronger. More adult than it was before. Less one head, thankfully, but not dead. He wondered whether or not the thing was an adult yet, or if it still had a ways to go?

How many times were they going to have to kill this thing? It had taken everything they had just to keep up with it until now! The feeling of that relief being ripped away was like having his legs torn off.

Then it took one slow, ponderous step toward them and far from being intimidated he felt his spirits lift just a little bit. "At least we finally slowed it down," he breathed out, giving a quick look around at anyone who couldn't glide across the tar. The Kid was still with the Cadet, and he trusted that Ms.Fortune would be able to jump to one of those new buildings if she had too. Geralt would be impossible to carry, but he had that platform he could summon and if this tar was deep enough for buildings he didn't doubt that it was deep enough for that thing. Blazermate, though, didn't look like she was in any shape to take flight after that lightning strike. It was a miracle to him that she was even still functional, but it seemed as though she was built Guardian tough.

“Rika?” He said, placing the Prince in the abyssals arms. “Take care. Try not to let him fall in the tar.” Making sure she could carry him, Link nodded and skated over to where Blazrmate had landed. “Come on, let’s get you someplace safer.” He said, scooping the Medabot up before turning back toward what was left of the beach and powering toward it at top speed. Spying one of the building tops just starting to push its way up out of the tar. He drifted over to it and set Blazermate down to recuperate, watching to make sure the building was still rising before setting off to deal with the less pressing concern of the giant monster.

It’s reduction in speed opened up opportunities for tactics that would have worked on the fast and chaotic juvenile forms. Not all of the rocks that had come down when it shattered the cliff had yet sunk, and Link made a beeline right for the biggest one that he could spot. Pulling out the slate he bound this one in golden chains, just like its brother before it. Putting the rock between himself and the tarred colossus advancing on the beach he began wailing on the frozen rock with the Ro Cestus. He needed to give it enough power to fly as straight as possible, hit it in just the right places so it flew at the correct angle. This was, admittedly, farther than he had ever attempted to throw a boulder like this before but with the reduced gravity he believed that it could make the journey.

He slid back as the timer on Stasis began to tick down. If he had done this right, it would hit. If he had done this perfectly, it would fly right into the creature's new eye.

[XoXKieroBombXoX]

Level 1 -

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Word Count:4747
+5 EXP!!
Tostarena Town - Base of the Mountain

Collab with @Lugubrious

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After ultimately making the decision that a life of seeking just cause rather than acting on it, Raiden stood from the edge of the roof, and lept downward. Now falling, Raiden felt the hot winds blowing upwards against his face as he held his hat to his head, keeping his mariachi outfit intact. Raiden stuck the landing as a ninja would, quickly regaining his composure and standing straight. Now with a new motive to move forward, Raiden popped his neck in a new excitement he hadn't felt in a particularly decent while. In a fast stride, Raiden meant to obtain an object he had left behind.

While Raiden was never one to leave anywhere without a blade, he needed to backtrack to collect one he had previously left behind. The HF Murasama was no ordinary weapon. It was similar in design to Raiden's signature HF Blade, but was heavier, and more damn indestructible than his. What it lacked in speed, it made up for in design. It was the blade that had saved Raiden from the crushing blows of Senator Armstrong so many months ago, the blade that ended the war between the two. The inn that Raiden had been staying at was very well kept and always respected his belongings. Raiden always liked that, they treated his property like their guests too. After arriving at his room, he entered his key into the keyhole and turnt the door unlocked. Entering, he'd swiftly track down the red blade and pick it up.

Quickly, Raiden sat on the bed and examined the sword carefully after removing it from the metallic sheathe. His eyes intricately taking in all of the details of sharp edge. So few memories associated with the artifact... yet, somehow it was his. Memories filled the brain of the cyborg as he stared the blade down, tip to hilt, memories of those he had fought those many months ago. Nodding, he stood and sheathed it just as quickly as he initially removed it. He was now ready to move on, as it magnetically latched to his side, now a piece of him once again.

Taking a step out of his room to the lobby, he'd nod, tip his hat at the attendee watching over the place, as he tossed the key underhand to the undead compatriot. "I'll be gone for good now. Keep that bed warm for another soul." He directed it at the skeleton watching over. After fixing the brim of his hat, he stepped out of the building, seeking one of the individuals who had arrived by train earlier that day.

It wasn't long before Raiden's efforts bore fruit. Although the steady supply of itinerant tourists who frequented Tostarena meant that one could always find a wealth of unfamiliar faces alongside the town's bright-eyed skeletal inhabitants, the couple dozen strangers who rolled in that afternoon were fresh on his mind. They appearances ran the gamut from innocent and childlike to monstrous and menacing, but none of those distinctive newcomers stuck with him quite so much as the largest among their number. He recalled two that stood over the rest, one a mustached titan whose rippling bare muscles bore a mosaic of tattoos and sunburns, the other a keg-shaped gumshoe whose brass instrumentation brought to mind another big man who concealed fearsome cybernetic augmentation beneath his trench coat. It didn't take much more scrutiny to tell that his suspicions might be on the money, either; just about every movement the detective made elicited some mechanical sound, and Raiden got more than one glimpse at the squad metal legs that carried Big Band through town. Unlike Sundowner, however, this man seemed decidedly old-fashioned, more like a brass contraption than a cutting-edge weapon of war. Compared to him, the enormous wasp with wrought-gold wings looked like much more of a threat.

All three of them had gone up the mountain, however, leaving the cyborg ninja with just one person of interest to track down. A few succinct questions posed here and there to obliging Tostarenans soon brought him to one the town's largest buildings, the wrestling arena. Woven from a material like black velvet and painted in vivid patterns that seemed to glow under the blacklights, it housed a quartet of rectangular wrestling rings -red, purple, orange, and green- arrayed like tennis courts, where visitors could watch or even participate in matches with the color-coded luchadors. More of a spectacle than a competition thanks to the undisputed championship of Tostarena's hero Juan Aguacate, the place put on regular 'fights' to entertain the tourists, and today Raiden's target was among their number.

Even in the somewhat dodgy light, she was easy enough to spot as she leaned against the wall, idly watching Cobra, Dragon, Eagle, and Tiger duke it out. Vindictive fusion with the spirit of a slain Resistance member had made Ciella shorter than her usual look, with more defined muscles and a more punk flair to her attire, but she still towered over the average man at almost seven feet tall, not including her rabbit ears. Her mask made it impossible to get a perfect read on her, but her expression suggested that the current tag-team match only barely managed to capture her attention. More than likely, she only sought to pass the time while she waited for something, possibly for the others of her group to return from the mountain. Still, it was as good an opportunity as Raiden could ask for to speak to one of the newcomers face to face--if he didn't mind looking up at her, that is.

With a determined step, Raiden approached the towering lady with purpose and determination. Normally, he'd use his cybernetic eye to get a read on some of the woman's basic biology and origin, but since he has been neglected care to his robotic body, there was no such option at the current time being. The swordsman looked up, now standing to her side, leaning against the very same wall she rested on, giving some appropriate distance. He tried his best to not be awkward about the situation, but the truth is that he was a stranger with metal harnessing his entire body and acting as though this lady was an old timey friend. Eyes stared down the fight that happened not to far away, trying to gauge how to enter the conversation. After thinking for a moment, he spoke to the women, avoiding immediate eye contact. "Pinnacle of the town, eh? Not much of a wrestling fan myself. I usually find myself in situations that involve guns and blades." Now sure he had gained her attention he crossed his arms and look up, his eye now meeting her eyes.

"Mind if I talk to you for a minute? I have some questions I need answered. Hell, I'll even buy you a drink if I get the answers I need." Raiden kept his hand on his sword's handle, now watching the fight that had been going on in the background.

The limits imposed on Ciella's peripheral vision by her mask meant that she didn't happen to notice the cautious cyborg until he announced his presence. As he made his opener, which very quickly went beyond the bounds of what one might typically call 'normal conversation', she shifted her weight from one leg to another. While only a slight change in terms of posture, it allowed her to cast her hidden eyes his way and scope him out. At first glance he appeared to be an armored warrior, whose form-fitting suit and black metal plates mimicked the musculature of the human body, but the make was unlike anything that the Agito had seen before. Perhaps he, like many of the people strewn throughout this anachronous World of Light, hailed from a realm where technological revolution -the sort that Validar even now worked to achieve for Al Mamoon- was a thing of the distant past. Either way, his gear bothered Ciella less than his intentions. Whether he recognized her as one of the three Grimleal elites or not, just what business did this stranger have with her?

He asked if she could spare some time for an interview, even offering a free libation from a local bar to make it worth her while. Ciella, however, remained wary. Though Raiden addressed her casually, his hand never left the hilt of his blade, which combined with his appearance in the wrestling arena's mostly-dark interior gave him an air of unmistakable menace. Her cyan-painted lips curled in disdain as all sorts of ideas sprang to mind. Although yesterday's raids throughout Al Mamoon culminated in the destruction of the Resistance, a few of its members remained at large, including the boss at whose behest the manipulative Nastasia sowed a campaign of chaos throughout the city. Was this man an assassin, come to squeeze her of all the information he could before taking revenge for his fallen comrades? If he knows of me and would still seek to aggress, he must be confident indeed. But such conceited bravado will come to naught.

Leaning on her longbow like a staff, Ciella put her hand on her hip and replied, her tone even as she kept her eyes on the luchadors. "I will indulge your curiosity, but before we proceed, I should like to make one thing plain." She paused for a moment as one wrestler suplexed the other, the WHACK of the impact against the wooden table below the ring echoing through the whole arena. "Do you believe in despair?"

She ran a hand through her hair, then replaced it on her waist before elaborating. "Not in its existence, mind you, but in its righteousness. That the deceivers and the deceived alike might know the truth, painful as it may be. That their foolish dreams and flimsy ideals should be broken, their lies exposed and illusions dispelled, that all may awaken from their deluded fantasies and confront our harsh, cold reality for what it is." What could be seen in her face was aloof and dispassionate, without pity or mercy. "If you understand, then we have no quarrel, and if we have no quarrel, I will tell you what I know."

Raiden after fixing his sombrero which had tilted slightly to one side of his head listened to her speech and took a genuine moment to consider, REALLY consider what she had said. Raiden had always had an idea of common philosophies such as anguish, despair, and pain, his time in Liberia had verified that, although he had always suppressed those memories. He did so now as well despite the giant woman's inquiry. As he adjusted the large blade on his hip he spoke in his raspy voice. "I guess no one's a hero. We all have something that makes us cruel and unjust. We're all villains in someone else's stories. And no, I didn't get that from the internet." Raiden's arms crossed over one another as he took another moment to hear his own thoughts among the shouts of the spectators and the wrestlers who did their performances.

"Philosophy isn't my strong suit, all I believe in is fighting in what you believe in, even if that fighting involves huge hulking guys in masks beating the shit out of each other." He nodded to the arenas that she had been watching earlier, quickly grabbing the reigns of the conversation again. "A psychopath told me that, but there is some truth to it." There was a moment when Raiden remembered the spiel the Crazy Senator had forced into his metallic framed skull. Another moment of silence passed before Raiden added his final statement. "Yes, I believe in despair... You get the answers you needed?"

"Hmph." While Ciella didn't follow everything the mostly-metal man told her in response, especially about some organization that he referred to as 'the Internet', he managed to grasp her meaning at least in part. For once, it seemed, the Agito would be spared a deluge of inane platitudes about friendship and justice. Most of the time talk turned out to a loathsome waste of time, for seldom did it make any understand her righteousness. Few could even bring themselves to pretend to. The painful truth simply lay beyond them, a scab they couldn't bear to tear free. Thus did she prefer to cut to the chase, draw her bow taut, brush deception aside, and fill her nocked arrow with despair. But if Raiden counted himself a man free from the binds of delusion, able to fight for what he believed in no matter how small-minded people might call foul, the two of them could get along for now.

"That will suffice. State your questions," she replied.

Raiden was somewhat relieved when the tall woman would be at least somewhat in agreement with what Raiden had said. There were many things about this woman that left Raiden concerned. Maybe it was the way she held her demeanor, or maybe it was just simply how she stated their ideal, but that was not why Raiden was here. As she confirmed that his beliefs were valid, Raiden would nod, now considering how to phrase his question. Yes, it was true he had somewhat watched the group since the moment they got here, yet he somehow did not know anything about their purpose in the small town, nor did he wish to reveal this information to the towering woman who could very easily knock Raiden on his side if he were caught off guard.

Raiden scratched his chin as he finally asked his question: "Your 'friends', if I can call them that... They went up Split Mountain... Right?" There was a slight concern in his voice as he asked this question. He had once tried to brave the mountain once he had arrived a while ago, failing short near the clearing of trees, no longer able to keep going. If they had been gone this long then... Chances are they had no intention on stopping. Things became somewhat clearer in Raiden's introspection, able to now know where their goal lied. A feeling of stupidity now fell over Raiden, how the hell could he not see? Their mission was to reach the peak, the goal many tourists failed to even consider achieving, yet they had not come back.

Nothing would be held back in Raiden's next question, the inquiry hitting Ciella in it's full bluntness, "Why are they going to the peak?" Raiden was not particularly worried about their skills nor their dedication, but rather was purely in wonder. Why? Why take the risk of death just to meet the tip of the mountain? Why risk ones life for such a seemingly meaningless task? It confused Raiden. Sure, his initial climb had been cut short due to his cybernetics freezing up and his lack of motivation, but there had to be a deeper meaning. "Why the hell... Why the hell do they plan to go so far?!" His voice was hushed as he said this, but held the full force of Raiden's confusion in it. He knew people were always driven by delusion, but surely, no matter their intention, this was too far!... Right?

Raiden's misunderstanding made Ciella bristle. "Those people are certainly not my friends. Such an ephemeral, fragile concept, apt to change with the slightest whim, is of no use to me. But they did climb the mountain." She sighed, her head slightly tilted, as the cyborg inquired as to the Seekers' purpose. How unfortunate it was that he'd approach her of all people for information about the group she'd elected to keep tabs on, rather than any actual adherent to the Seekers' cause. These were questions that Validar -and to an extent she herself- wanted to know the answers to. Still, she could offer what little she knew.

"As far as I understand it, there is some sort of powerful adversary on the mountaintop whose very existence presents a threat to the world, and whose destruction would be for the greater good. Hmph, as if any such thing exists." She adjusted her mask slightly so that she could massage her temples with her thumb and index finger, as if the very idea of such a heroic quest gave her a headache.

Raiden couldn't help himself but slightly agree with the lady's ideals, although not to the extent in which she said them, there was truth to the statement. Friendships were a concept Raiden hadn't been entirely familiar with, so sure, maybe the concept to him was foreign, but he knew that companionship wasn't entirely pointless, it worked for some people. After she answered his initial question, he couldn't help but feel some sort of deep feeling of guilt in his gut. He had the ability to stop them before they stepped foot, but he had let them pursue their mission. While he isn't directly responsible for anything that happens to them, there was some form of feeling that he had led them to their death by not intervening.

But...

As he thought before, these were no civilians. These were individuals with the mentality and abilities of heroes, at least from first glance and the description he was just given. Maybe they hadn't been dead, maybe Raiden was just expecting the worst out of the situation for reasons beyond his own comprehension, yet he couldn't help worrying. Suppressing his current thoughts, he'd continue speaking. "Don't know how in the hell anything could live up there. I climbed that mountain for at least an hour and it only got more hypothermia inducing the further I went. I'm lucky my joints didn't completely freeze over." Maybe he was talking too much, he hadn't even told her his true interest in the situation yet.

"As much as I love listening to the sounds of parties raging throughout the town every night, I've grown restless. My body aches every passing minute and it's becoming more and more unbearable." Then his mind drifted to Maverick, the group that had made Raiden the cybernetic ninja he was today, to how he has become weaker as a result of negligence to his own body. There wasn't much he could do in terms of fighting right now, but... If he could get his hands on the spine of a corpse, he would immediately be back in action. The question he had been meaning to ask suddenly got formulated as he realized what he needed. "Do you know if there are any scientists that were in the group? Ones who understand cybernetics?"

He shook his head. No, there probably wasn't. The only people who understood Raiden's needs as a cyborg were the good Doktor and the medical research staff at Foxhound. It would be incredibly unlikely any of them could help Raiden, but it still didn't hurt to ask regardless. "How about..." He thought about phrasing for a moment. Openly talking about killing a human being may raise suspicion to Raiden that he currently didn't need nor want. He tipped his sombrero in thought before resuming his question. "A lot of things die in your guys' paths?" He couldn't reveal too much information, he was always trained to hide true intentions in the case of interrogations or similar circumstances, but he knew that the question itself in origin may have been unusual.

Although Ciella didn't plan on letting her guard down, just about everything coming out of this guy's mouth made him less and less intimidating by the second. He outright admitted that he'd tried and failed to climb the mountain, specifically because it was too cold. Being a master markswoman gave Ciella an eye for distances, and considering the frankly ridiculous scale of that peak, an hour didn't seem like it would get Raiden that high. He went on to let her know just how sick he was of living in this festive tourist town, and the Sylvan began to connect the dots. Provided that this wasn't some elaborate ploy, all this stranger really wanted was a ticket out of this place, or perhaps just some action to hone the killer instincts that unadulterated peacetime dulled. Altogether, her first impression of a hardscrabble would-be assassin had been one-hundred-percent ruined.

"Cyber...netics?" she repeated, mulling over the unfamiliar word. Interaction with someone from a vastly different world never stopped being annoying. Judging by his own artificial appearance and the mention of his body, she guessed that he must be referring to 'machinery'. During her tenure in Al Mamoon, Ciella had on a couple occasions watched local tinkerers and metalworkers ply their trade, but the sheer complication of the craft put her off. In her mind she accepted it as just a different kind of magic, something that she had no intention of understanding. "I am not versed in the technological arts. However, several of those adventurers seemed capable in that regard. One young woman did have limbs and joints of metal, not unlike yourself, and during the ride over her the small, round, fuzzy one tended to her with odd instruments."

As for Raiden's last question, she tossed her hair dismissively. "This realm is one of vicious conflict, its people consumed by such bloodlust that most every fight ends in brutality and bloodshed. As if the concept of 'surrender' no longer exists. In such a world, it's kill, or be killed."

Acknowledging his understanding held his chin in between his fingers, nodding in response to her. "I apologize for my unknown vocabulary in that case... Maybe I could get some help from those few..." The last part of his speech was spoken underneath his breath, but could still be heard. A moment was taken for Raiden to consider his options he could risk climbing up the mountain again with the priority of finding the travelers he now sought, which then brought the argument of his joints freezing and giving up midway through... No, that idea wouldn't work. All he could do was wait, either for a way to get up to them or for them to finish their quest. He didn't care, though he considered both as viable options to getting away from "fiesta central".

"They'd have to be pretty far if they hadn't died yet... Idiots... God, who the hell climbs in those conditions!?" Shaking his head, Raiden brought himself back to reality. Were they that stupid? Surely it had to get to deathly conditions? It was nearly there by the time Raiden have given up. Maybe their dedication allowed them to continue pushing, maybe they were stronger then he was, maybe they had something he lacked.

"Do you know when they'll be back? Or when I can see them? I'm on the brink of death nearly everyday, and I'm not one to ask for help from others, but this is my one exception." He thought about how he had changed so much, how much of him had changed after the events of Operation Tecumseh, and once more after being consumed by the light of a being unknown to Raiden. He went from using the support of allies to having no one in a matter of seconds and now lived life alone. He sighed as he crossed his arms, now unsure of what to think of himself. He needed allies, whether he liked it ultimately or not.

Though she ostensibly agreed with him, the vehemence with which Raiden decried her new associates' decision to scale the mountain still took Ciella by surprise. He seemed bizarrely eager to meat them, and only after the cyborg dropped another hint did she start to understand why. Apparently his life in this town was one spent perpetually on death's door. No wonder he seemed a little on edge. "I do not know when they will return," she told him with a shrug. "Or even if they will return. After all, who is to say whether or not the so-called heroes finally met their match?"

She inhaled deeply, a resigned air about her, before she continued. "If you've stopped deceiving yourself into believing that you can survive without help, you may as well go all the way. Given all the athletic activity hereabouts, this town must have an infirmary...an apothecary, perhaps? In my world, healing draughts are so common that the simple act of smashing crates may yield some. Then again, if you won't even help yourself, you're probably beyond help. May as well give into despair, and let the fight for what you believe in die with you." Taunting Raiden with his own words, she urged him to quit fooling himself and seek whatever aid he could find, albeit in a roundabout way.

It became clear to Raiden, there was little way of uniting with the group of travelers at the time being. Even if he were to haul himself up the mountain, he would find his joints lock in the coldest part of the mountain before he even dreamt of meeting them, or even reaching the peak. Raiden was not one to wallow in negative outcomes, nor was he one to ultimately wait around twiddling his thumbs. He has to find his own way to survive, in that sense, she was one hundred percent correct. Then she had mentioned something odd... In her world, there are healing draughts? He had never heard of something so absurd, a draught of healing? The word itself implied instantaneous recovery, but what had been in the liquid that made it so. Must be nanomachines or something. But, maybe if something like that existed in her world... just maybe it were here too. He just has to seek it out.

He didn't take offense to her wording, though he did find some purpose in it. Nodding, he decided staying here was no longer of his best interest and would be taking his leave. Before stepping away, he would hold his hand out, offering payment for her troubles, as he had somewhat promised at the beginning. "Thanks for your time. Your information will help." After giving her the payment he finally stepped away, exiting just as quickly as he entered. He found himself in the middle of the Mexican sidewalks with a somewhat newfound sense of awareness in what he needed. Sure, it would be nice to meet the adventurers and join their rankings, though there may not be an entire need to do so. All he needed to do was find a way to recover himself, whether it be the grizzly way he did it prior, find some mechanic, or find a "healing draught". Now suddenly gaining a sense of direction, Raiden made headway to the top of a nearby building, where he would sit idly for a moment, perhaps taking a moment of contemplation.

---

A short time after silently accepting Raiden's loose change, Ciella became aware of an unusual warmth in the pocket of her new leather bolero jacket. She slipped a hand inside and withdrew the smooth, round crystal that she'd been given as the Seekers began their long trek up the mountain. The ferrystone. In the palm of her hand it now shone with a blue luster, and she could sense the magic that welled up within, ready to reunite the fragment with the whole no matter the distance between them. Her brows rose ever so slightly at the realization that the others must have made it, and with the Portcrystal placed, it was time for her wings to unfurl in rejection at the falsehood of this region's so-called boss, and ascend her to the heights of the world where she might cast that pretender down to the depths of despair. Ciella squeezed the crystal tight, and in a vortex of magic, disappeared.

[TruthHurts22]

RANK 3
16/30 EXP

Sandswept Sky - Graveyard of the Peaks

This was rough going. No, that's putting it lightly.

This was impossible.

As the doomed trek up the final stretch of the mountain got under way Raz was beginning to realize, finally, just how dangerous this was. Despite how fantastical the locales have been and how many odd monsters they've encountered, he wasn't in a mental world. If he ended up succumbing to injury, the elements, or simply taking the wrong step, he wouldn't be shunted back to the real world and be able to try again. This was it.

That didn't fill Raz with much confidence. There wasn't a surge of renewed vigor now that he understood the peril, and his adrenaline didn't kick in - that was long gone by now. If anything the thought that he would most likely die on this mountain was the final straw.

Unlike the others, flying off into the blizzard with shouts and screams, Raz went slowly, quietly. His trudging through the show, so high that it buried his whole legs, eased to a crawl. The cold wore him down, hunching the boy further and further, until it all culminated in him laying right down without a sound. There wasn't much hope in Raz, not anymore, and he let his consciousness fade, shivering alone in the snow.

Only to then find himself safe, somewhere else from the endless blizzard. For a second he thought he was dead, much like Tora even though neither could see one another. He stood, opening his mouth to address the robed figures, only for them to vanish as soon as Raz laid eyes on them. A golden glow enveloped him, and before he knew it, he was rocketing into the skies! To anyone who may have seen him in their shared soaring through the storm clouds, the young psychic looked like he was hanging onto the tail of a comet for dear life, his Levitation ball pulling him like it had a mind of its own.

With no control over any of it, all Raz could do was scream - mostly in fear, partly in fun - as the gang were given their final push towards...

Sandswept Sky - Apex of the World

Bursting through the cloud layer, Raz's wild flight slowed considerably, almost as if he was just thrown into the air and was reaching the peak of the arc before the plummet back down. There wouldn't be any Raz pancakes on the menu, fortunately, as the mysterious gold boost let him carry himself by the weight of his levitation still, hovering slower than normal as he cruised towards the nearest stable surface. The view was impressive, but there had been just a bit too much that happened for Raz to appreciate it fully, right now. And while he was incredibly happy that everyone made it out okay, Raz grew a lot quieter and distant than he'd been during the climb.

Even if it ended up working out in the end, he couldn't shake the fact that he let himself fail. It wasn't the wind, the cold, the snow that had gotten him, really. He just gave up. That knowledge really weighed on Raz - had he even been helpful before? What was the point of hanging around if he was going to be such a load?

When the Champion revealed itself in all its unusual, gigantic glory, Raz pushed his goggles back up his head. The scale of the monster made his knees buckle, and he took a step back to stop himself from falling. There was no way he could do anything against that. "Uhh, hey, I think you guys got this one," Raz said, the first thing out of his mouth since they arrived. "I'm going to stay here with..." He glanced back at Redenton, "that guy, you know, keep him safe. Keep Scout company since, well, he needs the rest more than any of us, right? Hah..."

---

Word Count: 655
EXP Gain: +1

[DracoLunaris]

The Koopa Troop

wordcount: 856 (+6)
Bowser: Level 10 EXP: //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (173/100)
Bowser Jr: Level 9 EXP: ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (131/90)
Kamek: Level 10 EXP: ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////(51/100)
Location: Bottomless Sea – Carcass Isle
Feat: Rika

The heroes (and one big spooky mon) swarmed the orphan and put into practice all they had learned over the long, hard, grueling fight. With masterful grace hard ingrained by the Orphan’s punishing cleaves the fighter’s danced around it in sync, delivering blow after blow after blow until, at last, the miraculously revitalized Sakura came sprinting in and gave it a stomp to the cranium that would have made Mario proud. Or left him mortified considering the headshot straight up decapitated the abomination, causing it to sink to its knees and then start to dissolve into ash and dust.

There was little energy left for jubilation, only an overwhelming sense of relief from the troop, best reflected by Kamek breathing ”thank the stars” and then lowering her raised wand down, leaving Mimi to shrink back down to her usual size.

”I gotcha” Jr told the little mon as he reached down and carefully picked her out of the, for her, deep water. The prince gave a little grunt of pain as he did so, but soon enough Mimi was back on his shoulder, shaking herself as dry as she could while the prince hobbled up the beach clutching his side. Rika trudged alongside him, her legs still a little shaky from the shock, while Kamek herself hovered down and landed among the others.

“Well. Glad that’s over” Rika said as Jr gave a very tired little cheer to Peach’s little speech and Kamek leaned on her broom for support. All of them were looking forward to getting out of here, while also starting to worry a little bit about how Bowser was holding up on his own now that the adrenaline was leaving their bodies. The faster they got out of here, the sooner they could reunite with him and then get some well deserved rest.

Unfortunately, reality had other plans, because things were not over yet. Nadia realizing that there was no spirit to be found tipped them off to the start of the problem, and then a few moments later everything went to hell. Or perhaps hell came to them.

Fog swept in and black tar started swelling up from the sand like a bursting oilfield. Ruins and derelicts followed the muck in its ascension and then it arose. A titan of sludge, who began gazing down at them from the waves with an eye reminiscent of the sickening moon in the sky. It’s glare bore down on them for a few scant horrifying moments, and then it started moving towards them.

The protective link moved first, picking Jr up (with a ”wow” from the heavy boy) who found himself quickly passed off into Rika’s hands, who strained a little more under his weight than she had last time.

”Hey, I can still walk!” he complained, and then grimace as he tried to wiggle free to no avail

”Perhaps not for much longer with the beach going the way it is” Kamek said as she remounted her broom and hovered up above the rapidly deteriorating land. She was impressed with Link's seemingly bottomless well of energy, which he put to work helping Blazermate out next. She might be younger now, but she was nowhere close to hero in terms of reserves. Jr, who was presently up far past his bedtime, had a similar problem, leaving only the nebulously aged Rika with any amount of reserves still going for her.

“Mmm, if I can float on it, this’ll be safer than you riksing sinking into it” Rika agreed with the koopa, hugging Jr to her chest so he could hold onto her as she carried him, before asking “but what can we even do against that thing?”

”I. Uh.” Jr said, entirely unsure while Kamek had one basic idea and that was ”Distance first, I think. The more time it has to spend walking towards us the better”

The others nodded and soon enough they were retreating back up the beach while Link wailed on a rock for a reason the troop were too tired and worried to put together. As the burdened Rika navigated the mess the beach was becoming, Kamek had one other idea. She hovered over to the nearest table looking building and then summoned his pair of sniper strikers.

Neither looked pleased with where they were, and the End was more than happy to vocalize that by saying “Would it kill you to give us a bit of sunshine?” before shrugging and saying “Ah well” and kneeling down next to Quiet to ready a shot.

“The eye, I take it?” he said, as the pair got a good unsettling look at the titan’s torso bound socket.

”Those are normally weak spots, yes” the mage agreed, to which the old man mused “Didn’t take you as someone prone to gouging eyes out” in response.

Kamek cocked her head in confusion at this little comment, but she didn't have time for clearing up misunderstandings, instead drifting down and heading after her wards while the pair of sharp shooters lined up their rifles, checked the wind and the distance, and then began delivering lead and darts to the titan’s eye at high velocities.

[Zoey Boey]

Level 5: 27/50
Word Count: Very short please forgive me
Location: Tostarena Town --> Apex of the World
Points Gained: 1
NEW EXP balance--- Level 5: 28/50

Jesse scrambled to the fountain, scooped up a glowing ferrystone, where it activated in her grasp. There was a flash of magic, disappeared. From the middle to the bottom to the top.

With the port crystal place, the haggard director re-appeared with Yellow Team. Alllll the way at the top. She looked around, saw everyone, and swore, running her hand through her red hair. "I am... so fucking sorry. I got distracted." She apologised, taking a moment to take in her new surroundings. Including a quick head count of the Seekers. "Glad to see you all survived without me. Glowing with health, infact. Maybe I was just slowing you down."

Including yet another weird, tired, beat up looking old man. And another giant monster. Definitely fit the description of the boss monsters she had seen so far.

"I'll uh, fill you in later. Is that it?" She asked, squinting up at the flying serpent. "How can we know?" The Service Weapon appeared in her hand.

[Lugubrious]

Ms Fortune

Location: Carcass Isle - Where All Things Must Come
Level 8 Nadia (15/80)
Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Hat Kid’s @Dawnrider, Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN, Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 2480

The moment that Nadia felt the ground underfoot begin to change, she made a mad dash back to the sanctuary of the nearest boulder. With every step the beach beneath her became more unstable and mucky, less like sand and more like a bog of tar. By the time the feral reached her shelter only a moment later, she needed to pull her leg free from the sticky black quagmire that would in just a matter of moments blanket the entirety of the Kosm’s accursed cove. The morass clutched at her so doggedly that she almost lost her foot to it in the process, and even after popping it back on she soon realized -from the slow ascent of her surroundings- that her refuge wouldn’t keep her safe for long. Grimacing, she bunched herself up and leaped over to the roof of one of the oyster-encrusted hovels that had arisen from below.
Nadia looked around in an effort to grasp the full scope of the changes to the beach, trying to get her bearings. Floating sea corpses, random stuff from around the island, and pitch-back tar. Everywhere. She took a deep breath. If her fears came to pass and the fight really wasn’t over, her team might be in for a seriously bad time. If not for a static and dependable battleground their slobberknocker with the Orphan so far might have gone very differently, and now it looked like the Seekers’ theater of war would be in constant flux. While the others could probably slog through the gunk, especially the tallest and most physically powerful among them, its viscosity limited movement to such a degree that fighting in the muck was basically impossible. “This is some raw-ass butt,” she concluded.

Naturally, it only got worse from there. She stared, paralyzed, as the Beached Thing made its presence known off the coast. Unlike the Orphan, a grisly affair of blood, guts, and twisted flesh that shambled and lunged like a horror movie monster, the BT appeared to be uncannily human in shape, normal except for the strands in place of fingers, the freaky umbilical cord, and the hands where a head ought to be. It walked like a man too, swinging its arms as it ambled toward the shore at what could only be described as a leisurely pace, as if it struggled with the molasses that now coated the beach too. Its cord writhed in a terribly disquieting manner as the creature dragged it along, like a worm in the water. Aside from its staggering size, it almost struck Nadia as something incapable of fighting, or even being fought, which in turn made it all the more ominous.

“You’ve gotta be kitten me,” she groaned, making the pun unconsciously. “That wasn’t even its final form? How’re we even supposed to fight this…this giant-ass ghost?” After taking a second to pull herself together, however, and hearing Link point out a significant silver lining, Nadia began to realize that this might actually not be that bad. In a way it even made sense; when she and the others challenged the Skullgirl back in the Dead Zone, she also evolved throughout the encounter, with her third and last phase the strangest. That form also moved around the least, making it an easy target if you could get past the utter pandemonium of her skeletal legions. After a quick breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, Nadia rolled her neck, then her shoulders, then stretched her arms. “The final stretch,” she murmured, a thin, wry smile on her face. With some of her vitality and stamina restored by her Nyawn, she stanced up, ready as she was going to get for one more round. If this thing was some kind of vengeful spirit, then it was past time the Seekers laid it to rest.

Nadia’s first order of business was to get up to the BT in order to hit it, since that eye over its heart looked like the mother of all weak spots, and Link’s idea gave her one, too. Remembering when the Hero of the Wild used that same lockdown power on his spear earlier, particularly the way it hurtled away with all the motive force it stored up while in stasis, she charged up her water purr-essure to rocket herself his way. As Link walloped the immobile boulder she sailed in to land on top of it, light enough on her feet that one punch from the swordsman was more than enough to counteract her impact. “Don’t mind me!” she told him with as cheery a wave as she could muster. “Just think of me as-?” She fell silent as the shriek of Bella’s leviathan tail heralded the departure of a railgun shot, aimed for the BT’s heart. Owing to the instability of the rowboat beneath her, however, the Abyssal’s shell missed the mark, and slammed into the eidolon’s shoulder, producing a burst of inky, icky tar. “Think of me as-” Nadia tried again, only to be drowned out a second time by a tremendous, deep reverberation, a long and bassy groan almost like the lowing of primeval cattle. It swept over the beach like a gust of wind, playing at the startled feral’s ears and hair alike. She swallowed. “As a…cat-apult,” she finished, and not a moment too soon. The rapid blinking of the boulder beneath her culminated in a shattering of its illusory chains, and very abruptly both rock and rider hurtled away.

When it came to hitting the eye Link aimed well, but not perfectly. His makeshift projectile flew on a collision course toward the vicinity of the lower sternum, and at about the halfway point Nadia sprang off the rock, revving up her right forearm like a drill as she cruised in on borrowed momentum. A burst of vital fluid pushed her faster still, although less-than-ideal aim and timing caused her to overshoot her target, and just a heartbeat later she plunged her arm into the monster’s left bicep. Behind her the boulder strunk the BT’s chest hard enough to stagger it, and with glee the cat burglar carved into the viscous flesh she’d landed on.

Instantaneously her arm started to slow down, and before Nadia knew it she was stuck, buried up to the elbow in the gunk. “Uh oh,” muttered, trying to pull her limb loose, only to find out after repeated attempts that she couldn’t get free without leaving a part of her behind. Even worse, when she braced against the BT’s body to try and yank her arm out, her shins and left palm got stuck, too. “Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh.” As her mind raced for any solution, the titan’s lowing drew her attention upward, where she spotted a host of creepy jellyfish-things floating out like balloons from the pit of the BT’s neck. They began to spread over the beach, and as they drifted, the monster began its attack. It lifted its ten finger-strands from the water, revealing a human hand on the end of each, and whipped them toward the gathered heroes like enormous cat-o-nine-tails. Some flailed around with closed fists, but others reached out with open hands, seeking to seize hold of whatever Seekers they could and reel them in for consumption.

The BT’s attack posed an even greater problem for Nadia. When it moved its arm, Nadia moved with it, and when it changed directions it jerked her hard enough to drive her even deeper into the muck. As the side of her head splatted against its body, stuck fast, her brain went haywire from fear. “Nyaaaagh!” she yowled, and from her blue blood she created two copycats to help extract her from the colossal mire. It was then that the feral’s luck took a turn for the better, for the moment the doubles jammed their hands into the goop, it began to sizzle and steam like fat in a frying pan. They went on the offensive, clawing away at the BT’s bizarre flesh until it was weak enough for Nadia to wrench herself out with all her parts intact. Realizing that the turnabout must have something to do with her blood, she planted her feet against the giant’s arm, re-absorbed her copycats and put all that hydropower into a massive double eruption from her legs. The next second she blasted off, leaving a messy crater behind in the nightmare’s bicep as she swooped back down toward the beach.

She struck one of the tar-balloons on the way down, causing it to rupture explosively. The trauma stunned her, rendering her totally unable to optimize her landing. All she could do as she fell, dangerously close to unconsciousness, was hope that one of her allies managed to catch her.

Her comrades did not let her down. “Oof!” she grunted as she came to a stop in Geralt’s strong arms. “My hero,” she gasped, clapping her hand on the Witcher’s shoulder by way of thanks. While she wouldn’t have minded coming to a stop in Ace’s embrace instead, which would have put the shoe on the other foot from earlier, she wasn’t about to be picky when it came to saving her skin. After a brief moment Geralt set her down on solid ground, and as the BT’s strands came whipping their way, they split up once again. Nadia ended up on top of another shack, where she looked up at the Bt to see the extent of the damage. What she found left her disappointed. The hole she’d blown in its arm had already scabbed over with golden crystal, and despite taking an enormous hunk of solid stone to the chest, the BT seemed pretty much fine. Unless the team could crystallize every inch of the colossus and turn it into one big, gaudy statue, it seemed like they would need to target that repulsive eye specifically. That, unfortunately, was a task easier said than done, especially with the diaspora of their enemy’s Gas Bags over the beach.

The team’s ranged fighters had a better time of it, especially Kamek with her snipers. With spell, arrow, or bullet they could blow up the gas bags from afar, and plug away at the eye from a safe distance while avoiding the BT’s strands without too much trouble. Before they could get too comfortable, however, it revealed another nasty trick. With a wave of its arms it hurled handfuls of golden, goopy humanoids that homed in on their targets, curving through the air like wraiths from beyond. Though vulnerable to being shot down themselves, those living missiles aimed to tackle the Seekers from their perches and into the tar, where they could try to drag them beneath.

Still panting, Nadia bent over again, her hands on her knees as she shook her head in frustration. Not every crazy idea was meant to be, and even if it couldn’t be called a disaster, her latest stunt had taken a lot out of her. Now, with no good way to attack this thing owing to her close range and flagging stamina, she found herself up the creek without a paddle. But she couldn’t just sit back and let the others struggle without her. Think, you stupid cat, think, she thought, glancing around. There has to be something, anything…!

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye, and she glanced over with a snarl. “What now!?” She spotted four dark shapes waving at her as they stood in the tar, murky and indistinct, and for a moment she couldn’t tell what she was looking at. Something about them bothered her, however–some inexplicable familiarity. The cat burglar looked closer, the giant BT all but forgotten. She crouched on the edge of her shack's roof, squinting, but even then it took her another couple seconds to recognize what stood before her.

When she did, Nadia fell to her knees, her mouth hung ever-so-slightly ajar. For the first time in untold years, tears welled up in her eyes. Those four figures, those Dagonians…one tall and chiseled, one long and lean, one broad and boisterous, one squat and surly. Just the same as she remembered them from that old drawing, one of the few mementos that withstood the test of time. As she stared, spellbound and speechless, the broad one hucked something at her. Though lobbed underhanded and slow, it bounced off the feral’s forehead before dropping right down into her hands. She glanced down to see a small container with a number of pinkish grubs floating around inside, with a label that read LIVE CRYPTOBIOTES - FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION. She looked back up to see the thrower laughing. The familiarity of his raucous guffaws, so strong that they just about bent him over, caused her tears to run down her cheeks–even if she couldn’t hear them now, she remembered just what they sounded like. The others threw their gifts one at a time, and Nadia caught them all. From the tall one she received a box that jangled as if full of coins, from the skinny one she got frame housing a collapsed weapon of some kind, and from the squat one she was somehow not at all surprised to receive a six-pack of beer. Timefall porter, she read. When she looked up again Nadia saw the four men turn away, as if to leave. “Wait!” she cried, springing to her feet. “Don’t go! I have so much to tell you! I…” Powerless to do anything, she could only watch as the Dagonian thieves disappeared one by one. The broad one saluted, the skinny one bowed, the tall one blew a kiss and finally, after a moment of glowering, the squat one cracked a side-grin. He winked, waved goodbye, and was gone.

“You jerks.” Nadia’s head fell, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Always got places to…to be, h-huh? Couldn’t spare your…your little girl any more time?” she whispered, her voice cracking as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “Well…I can’t explain it. Not even a li’l bit. But ya gave me somethin’ precious. Then…and now.” At the press of a button the collapsed firearm expanded to its full size, bursting out of the frame in the process. Nadia planted her feet and took aim, wincing for only a moment as the gun drew a measure of blood from her to load. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna waste it.” Even if she’d never used a gun before, they all operated on a similar principle: aim and pull the trigger. And with a target this big, how could she miss?