Yankee

Tabletop peeps? Why just 5th edition?

I too have a friend who will not shut up about how great 3.5E is when compared to 5E. But the the thing is that my favorite part of role playing is the actual role playing. Fighting has never been my favorite part of D&D and regardless of edition the encounters seem to take forever. This is especially true when it comes to the less enthused among us that seem to forget what their character can do every session.

@BrokenPromise

This is the same for me. I do suffer through AD&D and other older, very restrictive and rules-heavy TTRPG systems because its what a lot of my friends like to play, and its fun because we get to joke around in person and help each other (read: help me lol) when we struggle with a part of the system. I probably wouldn't do rules and system heavy games over discord or forum. I mean just as an example I don't even play magic classes in 5E because I don't want the hassle of tracking spells.

It's why I've been trying out some of the more roleplay heavy systems lately, or trying to.

World of Light

Word Count: 2137 (+3 exp)
Level: 6 - Total EXP: 118/60
Location: The Under
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●

When Therion laid down on the warm stone beside the oven, not even bothering to return to his human form and just curling up as a cat to let his fur dry, he neither intended nor expected to fall asleep. His head was laid across his front paws, and his eyes were closed but his ears were perked up and swiveling subtly towards the Seekers still awake as they talked in hushed tones. Eventually, their voices blended together into a low rumble. When the adrenaline in his system wore off it took all of his energy with it. The few hours he'd napped earlier were not enough to keep his mind awake.

His breathing evened out and he went slowly from dozing to dreaming.

* * *

A lot of the time it was easy for Therion to tell that he was in a dream. He didn't often have them in the first place, given his propensity for sleeping in short segments of time. Tonight he found himself walking a well worn path on a bright autumn day, and though he sensed that it wasn't real at first his consciousness gradually gave in to the illusion.

"Mr. Therion!"

He turned to see a woman hurrying up to him. She was dressed in a simple teal kimono and had a gentle, if somewhat nervous smile on her face. Therion himself had a similar outfit on, though it was a faded purple in color, and where the manacle usually hung on his wrist there was a woven bracelet instead. When she was close enough the woman held a small cloth parcel out to him.

"Here. I wanted to give you these. They are— o-oh, you're opening them now?"

Bundled up inside were a few pastries, delightfully golden brown and smelling faintly of apples. They were still slightly warm to the touch. Therion stared at them for what must have been a worryingly long amount of time, because the blonde woman fidgeted and asked, "Do they look alright...? I wasn't sure if they would be to your liking."

"They're fine - I mean, they look good. I'm just... wondering why you're giving them to me."

Because he knew this person, though her name slipped away from his mind. It wasn't something he would have expected her to do. She was a jailer, or a benefactor, or... no, she was a neighbor.

Right, she lived just down the road in the village. His lived experience and his dream bled together, and inside the dream he was none the wiser. Not only was she a neighbor, but she also purchased a lot of apples from him - she was probably his best local customer, as most of the other fruits form his small orchard were packed in barrels and sold to sea-faring merchants.

The woman smiled again. "I just thought you'd like a taste of what your apples are being used for. "

"That so? Then I'll be sure to eat them." He wrapped them back up and gave her a small smile in return, watching her cheeks turn pink. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome Mr. Therion. Now, I should leave you to it..."

They said their goodbyes and Therion continued his walk. He'd just come from market, his baskets blessedly empty as he crested the hill that led to his home. It was a small house, one that would have been wholly unfamiliar to him in the waking world. Wooden with a sloping hip-and-gable roof, sliding reed doors and tatami mat floors. Behind the house was his pride and joy, the dozen or so apple trees that made up his grove.

He went inside and took to eating the pastries. After a short rest he'd be back to packing baskets to take to market for tomorrow while the ripening season lasted.

His days continued on like that, as they had for the past few years. If the off seasons he spent his time watching the village slowly expand - it was far from the largest town, but being close to the sea it made for an easy spot for travelers to visit, and sometimes to stay. Gradually the town gained other draws too, like the small dojo run by a stern, but kind man with salt and pepper hair. He hadn't been able to keep a grin from his face when Therion cracked a joke about their similar facial scars when they'd first met. A little further past the village into the mountains was even a shrine tended to by a miko and mysterious kagura dancer that saw regular visitors.

Once, when another autumn had come and gone and winter was cooling the area down with the first signs of frost, Therion had even discovered that the house opposite his own which had sat empty for years had finally been purchased. The young man dabbled in medicine of some kind, and they'd met when he was marveling at the trees just across the street.

"Ya gotta let me help with the crop," he'd told Therion with a bright, slightly lopsided smile, a sprig of grass hanging from his mouth. "I won't even ask for nothing, if we're gonna be neighbors its only right to lend a hand. But if ya felt like sharing some fruit, I sure wouldn't say no!"

And he had ended up helping the next harvest, and the ones after that. Market trips were a lot more lively, as the man would chat anyone up, including the woman that Therion would often trade with, fruit for meats, though he'd hardly spoken to her prior. On their way back from port the stately blonde, now their collective neighbor, took to baking extras and gifting it to the two men whenever she got the chance. She was a busy woman herself lately, funding a library in town and working to stock it together with the wise man she'd invited to manage the place.

It felt good to see the town grow. It felt like soon their village might even become a major business hub in the future, and wouldn't that be a sight? Today though had been a long one, and Therion was looking forward to turning in early.

"See you tomorrow," he said, waving a lazy goodbye to the other man.

"Yup, see ya Therion!"

It was a warmer autumn night, sure to make for a warm morning the next day. Therion would sleep well again.

...baked apples had a wonderfully pleasant smell. A rich, fruity, warm scent that invoked a feeling of comfort and familiarity. They were best made in a water bath, cooked long over a low flame so that the fruit's flesh slowly warmed until it was tender and sweet. Cooked too fast and the insides kept firmed, though no less delicious. Cooked too hot and the apples were likely to rupture and make a mess.

One needed to keep a close eye on them, for as with any food they could go from baked to burnt in no time at all. It was this smell that Therion awoke to: acrid and bitter as the watery skins caught fire, thick and choking as tree trunks turned to smoke and charcoal and ashes. He was up in a flash, sprinting from his bed and slamming the sliding door open.

The orchard was in flames. What trees weren't already on fire would be engulfed soon. Overhead dark storm clouds cast random bolts of lightning down onto the area, and judging by the damage to some of the plants they'd definitely been hit. He didn't stop to wonder how the fire had spread so fast from just a lightning strike, rushing from the veranda toward the small shed nearby - then changing direction to run around toward the front of the house. He needed to put the fire out, but there was no way he could do it alone. He had to find help.

A bright flash in the sky signaled another strike of lightning. It crashed into the home next door, followed shortly by a burst of thunder. Wood and stone flew apart where the lightning struck, showering the space between the houses, and Therion, with debris. What the hell is going on?! he thought, panicked and untangling himself from the rubble. He opened his mouth and called out for anyone nearby. He was stuck, his orchard was burning, help, but to his horror the only replies back he could hear echoed his own.

Help me!

I'm hurt!

Gods, why...!

The storm...!

Help me, please, help me!!

Therion was frozen; in fear, in despair, still caught in the debris that had rained down on him. It sounded like the entire town was being razed to the ground. Heat and dust rose up everywhere, lightning rang out above and signaled the crunch of stones falling, or buildings toppling over. The screams of men and women could only be heard in between peals of thunder. While his brain tried to process what was happening the damaged house next door buckled under its own weight and sloped toward him, trapping him completely when it collapsed.

It took a long time for Therion to free himself. He was bleeding, and he might have blacked out once or twice, but he made it - stubbornly pushing the rubble just enough out of the way so that he could move his limbs and wriggle through the slim spaces between wooden beams and roof tiles. He dragged himself from the ruined home, sore and gasping for breath. He forced himself to stand.

Everything around him was in ruins. From where he lived up on the hill he could see down towards the village proper - houses were leveled, business ripped apart, the ships in the small port aflame. His own home was a smoldering shell of its former self, and across the street the friendly medicine man's home wasn't much better. The roof was caved in, as well as the walls, though the framework still stood. At the front door of the veranda there was an oozing pool of blood.

Therion covered his mouth and ran. He didn't know where to go or what to do. The entire town, his friends, his whole life was just— gone. Destroyed. The storm still raged overhead, casting the area in a grizzly light. And in a flash of lightning, he saw her.

She'd blazed a trail of destruction throughout the village. She was dressed in crimson armor, and upon her face was a helmet that evoked a terrible villain from some kabuki play. She was ahead of him on the road, dragging the spearhead of her naginata through a man that'd been pleading for his life. When he was dead she flicked the weapon to rid it of blood before turning her gaze on Therion.

"You..." he breathed out. This person, wreathed in violet lightning, was the calamity that had brought ruin to the town. Why? He didn't ask, instead he turned and ran the other way. She was killing everyone, and she was going to kill him too if he didn't—

He felt the lightning well before he heard the thunder.

* * *

The phantom feeling of electrocution and his body on fire lingered after the nightmare ended. Therion woke up with a start, launching himself from his spot on the floor and all his fur standing on end. His claws were extended and his tail was double its size in fright. If he had been in his human form he might have cried out, but as it was he merely stared around the room wide-eyed and slowly coming back to himself.

Though he didn't dream often, when he did dream he sometimes dreamt of himself dying. He'd had a lot of near death experiences already. But that dream was... something else. It was weird. It was uncomfortable. He shifted out of his beast form and felt his chest where the lightning bolt had passed through him, but as expected there was no damage. He was in his usual clothes, and the fool's bangle was still there.

What the fuck was that about...? he questioned. He could feel beads of sweat form even now that he was awake and aware. It must have been close to morning since though most of the Seekers were still asleep there were some that were already awake, like that knight and Primrose. Or perhaps they hadn't slept at all, going by the circles beginning to form under the dancer's eyes. She glanced over at him, a questioning look in her eyes, but he shook his head. He spent the little while before the others rose leaning back against the tower's stone wall and getting his heart rate under control. By the time the entire group was awake he was back to normal, though a nagging, ominous feeling haunted a corner of his mind.

Ready to explore

Welcome to RPG!

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

I have such low expectations yet such high hopes for Starfield.

I'd love to see them turn it around and make RPGs again, but are they capable of it?

@BangoSkank

From what I saw of the "Starfield Direct" it has more actual RPG elements in it than, say, Skyrim. With skill trees and perks that affected dialogue like older Fallout games, stuff like that. Honestly I'm not really into space settings and probably won't even play Starfield but the game did look fun (though I didn't watch the entire Starfield showcase which they did right after the Xbox one).

World of Light

Word Count: 610 (+1 exp)
Level: 9 - Total EXP: 222/90
Location: Edinburgh MagicaPolis

As fast as the felynes were at their work, they couldn't beat instant teleportation. So it was that the Ace Cadet was the first to arrive back at the Grammeowster's Kitchen. He appeared in the living quarters above the restaurant itself, the homeward bone he'd unwittingly used to get there crumbling to dust in his hand. He had a minor case of vertigo, plus that spine tingling feeling he got when magic was involved, so the hunter let himself lay on the ground for a bit - at least until he realized that he wasn't alone in the room.

He pushed himself to his feat, worse for wear, giving Lucia, Frisk, and Albedo no time to question where he'd come from before he filled them in himself. He paused in his story telling only to take a potion and then dove right back in, telling them all about what the three (and eventually, four) Seekers had seen and done - and the fate they'd succumbed to.

It wasn't much later that the rest of his group showed up at the restaurant's doorstep, unceremoniously dumped by the Felynes that had rescued them. Classic - it meant their charges were alive and well. Once everyone was ushered upstairs and reunited once more, a more in depth explanation was given to those that stayed behind and discussion began.

"It was basically like cheating," the Cadet added when Lucia remarked on the Consul's abilities. He'd already drained his tea and at some point had gone to get another cup plus a tray of food, which sat in front of him on the table.

"I don't know if it was really time control or what, it was like... he flapped his hand, trying to pull the right words from the air. "Blinking, and stopping? Whatever it is, it giggisux."

It was hard to describe, especially because it was hard to even grasp what it was, and what it was doing to them. Albedo pointed out that it had its flaws, it wasn't unbeatable. There couldn't really be a power out there that totally perfect anyway, or so the Cadet believed. He nodded his head, agreeing with Albedo's assessment now that he was looking back on the fight with hindsight. There was another thing too - it all started with that "connection." Maybe if they avoided that, the latency wouldn't effect them in the first place.

When Band mentioned he was already looking for a rematch, the Cadet shot the man a grin. "It'd feel great to clean his clock, that's for sure."

But there were a lot of things to consider, which were brought up the next moment. The matter of L, who might join the battle after having healed herself. The Consul's locations, which most likely would have changed from the Aether Paradise. The "Flame Clock" was something that the Cadet had no idea where to start. It was a clock that didn't tell time, instead if filled up with light and somehow able to heal? Probably some magic thing that he brushed off.

And of course, there was the matter of Linkle.

"That's a great idea!" the Ace Cadet said once Albedo put forth his suggestion. That morning the hunter had come to the conclusion that the Hylian was looking for them too, so it would be best to find her as soon as possible. "With a hero of justice like her back on our side there's no way we'd lose. And we'll be able to help her out with the whole skull-curse she's got going on."

In the hours before night fall he could prepare; concoct, restock, maintain his equipment... Tonight when they went looking for her, he wouldn't fail again.

World of Light

Beneath the Mask I

Location:The City of Glass - Vandelay Campus
Attendees: Susie, Raz, Goldlewis, Zenkichi, Midna, Roxas, Karin
Viewers: Blazermate, Tora, Giovanna, Geralt, Sakura, Pit, Benedict, Partitio
Word Count: 6163 (+7)

The conversation about their ethical and moral strategy going forwards ebbed and flowed like the waters lapping against the ship as they crossed the bay. Then all too soon and well past time the trip came to an end, and it was time to go listen to a debate instead of having one.

Upon getting across the lake and getting ready to look at the debate, the group had to decide who would go where. With only six press passes, it would be useful for those who were interested in the whole political situation to ask some questions that would help them learn more about what was going on and perhaps get someone like Shinra to let loose some information they normally wouldn’t.

Karin took a pass between her index and middle finger and nodded a pre-emptive goodbye at Sakura.

Blazermate wasn’t all that interested in the proceedings herself, deciding to just go with the viewer group. Politics weren’t her thing, she preferred fighting and healing. Or maybe playing some carnival games. Plus, Tora needed a support robot right now so she figured she’d stay near the guy. ”Hey Tora. I’ll be your partner for now. Maybe we can find some fun things to do in the viewer area?” Blazermate said, trying to cheer him up a little.

Judging by the withering look Tora gave her, he completely abhorred her well-meaning suggestion. “Tora not need or want replacement. Only Poppi.”

Susie meanwhile decided to take one of the passes. She had some questions for both of the people running for office, and she knew how to read political and corporate doublespeak, so she figured she’d be a good candidate for that team. Although from what she could tell of the two so far, Armstrong might be the easier of the two to get information from, while Shinra would have the more important information.

Zenkichi took a pass while Geralt practically scoffed and informed the others that the last political action he took was a regicide, and that likely wouldn’t be appreciated here. Zenkichi chuckled at the joke (That was a joke, right? Right???) and let the others know he’d figure something out, and if his bosses saw him in the debate audience, he’d figure something out.

”Keep that in the back pocket for now, especially seeing as the only royal who’s going to be there is me” Midna commented, signaling her intention to go, though as she could just ride along in the shadows there’d be no need for her to take a pass (though she’d take one if there was one spare), before continuing ”because I know at least one king that’ll need offing if Galeem put him on the board.”

”I’ll come too,” Raz piped up. ”All this political intrigue and espionage is just what the Psychonauts are trained for! Plus, they’re politicians: they always lie, so I can be there as a kind’ve lie detector! Read their thoughts on certain topics and whatever.”

”I… guess I’ll go too, if no one else wants to take a pass.” Roxas joined in after a moment of hesitation. He didn’t really understand anything about the election that everyone was talking about, so maybe attending this debate would be a chance to try and learn a bit about it?

The topic of all this political mumbo-jumbo flew right over Partitio's head, though the topic of regicide made the merchant do a double take before shaking his head and chuckling awkwardly "Uh you got yourself an odd sense of humor partner'" Geralt did succeed in drastically changing the topic though thankfully, Benedict saw nary a point to continually pushing the subject he did however made a somewhat amused noise when Raz spoke on topic of politicians lying.

"Politics are a dance of intrigue and deceit, though to read one's thoughts…" it did strike the elderly strategist as an interesting tactic indeed, such an edge would be valuable in such a debate as the one to unfold "What an intriguing idea." There were not any passes left for him at this point, however, so the former Turk need not take the risk of being recognized.

Pit was fine with staying outside of the amphitheater, grouped with the others who would be watching from afar. With all the passes given out to those that were more interested in seeing the proceedings first hand, the angel crossed his arms behind his head and bid those going in a slightly awkward "have fun," with a less awkward smile.

With that ironed out, it was time for the two divisions of the team to proceed to their respective locations and await the start of tonight’s festivities.

Those destined to attend the debate in person allowed themselves to be swept up by the steady stream of people converging on the path to the regal Dendemille Showcase Theater, only taking one slight detour on the way. Position strategically along one of the Vandelay Campus’s most public avenues was a special on-site outlet store for the apparel retailer Crazy Cap, exclusively offering Vandelay-branded clothing. They offered a selection of t-shirts, hoodies, scarves, beanies, baseball caps, shades (including shutter shades), and more. Offered as souvenirs as much as if not more so than functional attire despite the tastelessness of such a practice at a serious political convention, these clothes were about as bland and corporate as one might expect, but they did present one tangential benefit. Goldlewis floated the idea of using them to help mask the identities of those among the Seekers whose faces might be recognizable to just the sort of government higher-ups that might very well be in attendance. Of course, being a retired official rather than a rogue agent, the veteran felt no need to disguise himself. Once everyone had what they needed, he boldly led the team the rest of the way to the debate’s prestigious venue.

Zenkichi, being pulled along by the crowd, spotted the souvenir shop and tapped Goldlewis on the shoulder, gesturing to the store before quickly pushing through the wave of people. He didn’t bother trying to be heard over the crowd, and shouting that you were getting a disguise was generally considered a bad idea. Quickly grabbing himself a beanie and a pair of shades, he paid and got out of there, searching for the former Secretary of Defense’s massive frame in the crowd.

Midna, being a twili turned imp turned chimera who was highly identified by the fact that there was nothing else like her in the city, and also not intending to make a public appearance, skipped this bit of dress up, and instead took it upon herself to make snippy comments about the new look of any who did.

Despite probably not having much to worry about from being noticed, Raz decided to take a pitstop at the merch store too, picking out a hoodie way too big for him (it reached down to his legs and the sleeves went past his arms), popping the hood of it up over his helmet and tugging his goggles over his face. ”How do I look? In-cog-nito?” He wasn’t too sure if he was assumed dead after not showing back up after the Other mission, so it was better safe than sorry. Stifling a chuckle as best he could, Goldlewis gave a nod of approval. As long as the fashion police weren’t around, Raz ought to be in the clear.

Hang on… the Other mission, Psych-OSF… ”Aw shoot, Lili!” Raz blurted out, quickly covering his mouth when attention was drawn their way. Once people stopped being interested in them Raz whispered to the group, ”I totally forgot to check in with Lili! She’s my, uh, my friend, from when we were just Psychonauts. Me and Roxas brought her to her senses and then sortaaaaa abandoned her… crap, she’s gonna kill me after all this.”

”Yeah, maybe you and I should check in on her when we get a chance?” Roxas suggested to the psychic boy.

Susie looked at all the corporate wear, and wasn't really interested in any of it. IT wouldn’t do for the head of a new business in town to hide herself, nor did she have any reason to. So she just waited for everyone else.

Karin carefully picked out her outfit. Despite it being a shop for bland and corporate outfits, Karin emerged looking like a snazzy business woman in a suit and skirt, with sunglasses riding high on her forehead. It wasn’t so much a disguise as it was a chance for her to buy yet another new outfit for herself.

Benedict glanced over a few colorful "t-shirts" and "baseball caps" as they called them, a sport and a mass produced piece of clothing one of which he found fascinating while the other he cared less for.

Slipping on the closest thing to a plain shirt, and with a sour look on his face as he put the hat on "This clothing is appalling to the eye but…Necessary." conceding to the point of the disguise he sighed. Partitio talked up a storm with the person standing behind the souvenir shop’s counter. "Nice little place ya got here partner, name's Partitio and I'm something of a salesman myself. Got a few tradesmen secrets too!" the merchant firmly shook the hapless shopkeeper’s hand who just smiled and nodded, not quite getting what Partitio's deal was. Once Benedict satisfied his paranoia with a disguise, the two men hurried back to the other group that would not be attending the debate.

Meanwhile, the contingent who elected to view the proceedings remotely looked for a place to spend the time. Naturally, most of the Vandelay Campus was off-limits, but the public-facing subsection known as Circuit Royal featured a handful of licensed establishments in the same vein as Crazy Cap, all intended for live-in employees as much as visitors. There were a few restaurants, stores, and entertainment destinations, even an arcade. None of it interested Tora as much as a tour through the less free-roam parts of the Vandelay Campus to get a peek at what made Midgar’s robotics industry leader tick, but even if any such experiences were scheduled this late, tonight’s slate had been wiped clean to make way for the main event: the debate. So with a heavy heart Tora joined the search for somewhere to go. With plenty of Vandelay robots around, Giovanna recommended going as off the beaten path as possible, and before too long the gang found just such a place. Tucked away on the second story above a Burger Town fast food restaurant was a lounge called Penguin Sniper, accessible by an enclosed stairway next door. Inside the team found a bar serving all kinds of beverages alongside pretty run-of-the-mill bar food, darts, billiards, and a couple game cabinets available for play. Everyone could get a quick bite to eat before the time came to settle in and watch the debate on the wide-screen TVs in the corners.

For once though, Tora wasn’t hungry. He climbed up into a booth, piled up his computer kit, and got back to work. His wings buzzed with nervous energy and couldn’t remain still, not while Poppi’s fate hung in the balance. It became apparent that he wouldn’t eat of his own volition if left to his own devices.

Blazermate, deciding to be Tora’s support medabot for the time being, hovered around him, saying. ”We’ll find her, don’t worry. You’ve gotta eat though so you can keep up the search at full steam.” And saying that, Blazermate acted like a nurse, helping to feed Tora while he worked, giving him a bit of light healing to help his shaky nerves as the soothing healing washed over him.

Geralt gave the pair an odd look, but if Tora wasn’t going to say anything, he wouldn’t either. He felt it in poor taste, personally, but again, Tora could speak for himself. He focused instead on their surroundings, a small frown on his face as he anticipated the inevitable shitshow that they were about to experience. He couldn’t stand political problems, especially ones that involved this blatantly corrupt city. Still, getting an insight into what was going on (and being close by in the event of an implied attack or other such action) was important for their cause. So here he was.

"That Wallace guy was pretty funny, I hope he ends up being able to find a friend," Pit mused while they waited for the event to start. He'd claimed a barstool and dragged it over to the other Seekers, sitting with his legs pulled up and folded beneath him. There was a bowl of slowly disappearing peanuts in his lap. He felt fidgety with want to go out and do something, but like Goldlewis had mentioned it was probably best not to be separated from the group for now. And, well, he was at least a little bit curious about the debate. It wasn't every day one got to see human politics up close.

Sakura had some gold coins on her still from Limsa that she could use to buy her food. Or rather, one gold coin, and probably a lot of change. Eagerly eating a hamburger, she considered the quarters she had collected and cast a look over at the inviting arcade machines. Then she slapped herself on either side of her head. ”Stay focused…”

As the minutes ticked by, the feeling of anticipation shared among the patrons of Penguin Sniper steadily grew. Normally people would come to a place like this to take a load off, to chat with friends over drinks and play games, but the closer to nine o’ clock it got the more eyes kept wandering back to the TVs. For now, they only delivered the faces and voices of reporters and other media personalities, either extracting or delivering opinions on the state of the candidates’ campaigns, or making predictions about tonight’s debate and how it would affect the last leg of this heated presidential race. Contention, opinion, post-truth tribalism, worry and uncertainty, promises, trust, and representation…it all simmered like a cookpot poised to boil over. Naturally, this heightened atmosphere extended well beyond this lounge; the city of Midgar itself was watching with bated breath. Nowhere was the atmosphere quite as electric, of course, than within Dendemille Showcase Theater itself. The grand auditorium, used as often for Vandelay-sponsored publicity gigs as investor and shareholder conferences, was appropriately awe-inspiring in size, with many descending rows of seats, white marble columns along the sides, and a second level elevated above the ground floor. Ushered toward the designated press rows after the inspection of their passes, Goldlewis and the others quickly took their seats. Upon the stage, in front of two enormous red-and-white banners, stood a pair of wooden podiums facing the audience, but tilted toward one another. For now they stood empty, but not for long. In a matter of minutes, two of the most powerful men in Midgar would be standing here in the flesh. The Seekers had heard about these two long enough; now, they’d see them with their own eyes.

Though it felt like hours, it was a few minutes more before the event began. The lights dimmed, the chatter ceased, and the moderator of the tonight’s debate -a middle-aged man with a thick brown mustache and eyebrows- clasped his hands, stared deep into the camera, and began.

“Good evening from the Dendemille Showcase Theater at the Vandelay Campus in the City of Glass, Midgar Sector 06. I’m H.C. Udo, COG News Hour, and I welcome you to the last of the presidential debates between President Shinra, the Administration incumbent, and Steven Armstrong, Senator of Sector 08. Tonight’s debate, just as with the prior four, is sponsored by the Commission for Presidential Debates. Tonight’s sixty minutes will focus on both domestic and external issues, and will follow a format designed by the Commission. There will be a series of segments with two-minute answers to the posed question, then open discussion for the remainder of each segment. Thousands of people offered suggestions on segment subjects and questions, but I made the final selection, and for the record they were not submitted for approval to the Commission or the candidates. The segments, as I announced beforehand, will have an emphasis throughout on specifics, differences, and choices. Both candidates will also have two-minute closing statements. The audience here is promised to remain silent at all times, so we may all concentrate on what the candidates have to say. However, there will now be one exception, so please join me in welcoming Senator Armstrong and President Shinra.”

Each arrived in the midst of a miniature mob of their own personal security details, independent of the Vandelay SBR units stationed throughout the premises for general security. On one side, cyborgs in expensive suits, their technological augmentations plain to see. Under their protection was a tall, burly man of rare fortitude for a politician, with slicked-back brown hair on the verge of receding, a pronounced forehead above thick-rimmed rectangular glasses, a dimpled chin, and a broad, self-assured smile that exuded natural confidence. Despite his uncommon stature, the leader of his entourage towered above him, drawing hushed whispers and awed gazed. He was a giant among men, ferociously bald, his enormous frame clad in a heavy black trench coat that turned red toward the bottom. After receiving a nod from the man in charge, Sundowner stepped down from the stage to stand on the right side as the rest of the guards seated themselves in the front row to the right side of the moderator’s desk, and Armstrong attended his podium. Not to be outdone, his opponent emerged from the left-hand side of the stage flanked by a handful of Claws, wearing both suits and coats, their faces hidden and their serum-filled injectors glowing softly. Only two of his guards showed their faces: an unremarkable man with a bored look on his face, and the unit captain, a wolf-eared woman with a special variation on the Claws’ armored left arms. Any former Turk would recognize her: Penance, the Auditor known also as the Judge. Once she and the others took their seats on the left side of the front row, President Shinra approached the podium opposite Armstrong. Despite his wrinkles and thinning blonde hair, he had eyes as sharp and ice-blue as an arctic glacier, and his perennial suspicion-filled glare was just as cold. The two approached one another in tacit silence, locked eyes, and shook hands before returning to their podiums.

Susie, seeing the two politicians in the flesh for once, could see why even though Shinra seemed to have that old cougar sort of wit and sharpness behind him, why Armstrong could stand up to him. Armstrong looked like a meathead, and he for sure looked like it. In fact, if she could make him a bodyguard of hers, she would. He looked like he’d be a very strong one. But while she could gleam what Shinra was, she couldn’t really grasp what Armstrong was about besides he was strong. Perhaps Armstrong could be just as manipulative or even more so than Shinra.

Although that being said, Shinra did have better looking security. It was almost like the difference between old and new money, with Shinra being old money and Armstrong being new money. She also noticed that besides one of his guards, Shinra seemed to have superior guards. Perhaps that was because Armstrong was super strong on his own and barely needed security?

Zenkichi sucked in a sharp breath when he saw Penance, hoping against hope that what they’d heard about ‘something’ happening tonight wouldn’t mean any attacks going on. If there was one…well, he hoped they wouldn’t have to fight her. The other guards would be no slouches, but that woman had earned her nickname and her rank fair and square.

He wondered, though, about Armstrong. Shinra was very obviously corrupt to the core, but there was…something…about the contender that he couldn’t place. Something that raised his hackles ever so slightly. Politicians tended to keep themselves in fair enough shape, true, but Armstrong was built like a train and could probably give any Turk one hell of a beatdown. Not only that, but DespoRHado being so gung-ho on backing him, to the point that his security guard consisted solely of cyborgs? He didn’t like it.

Midna didn’t like it either. In her feudal understanding of politics, the two groups showing up to this discussion with large well armed retinues in tow and on prominent display was not a particularly healthy state of affairs. It was a rather blatant show of force on both sides, and she had to wonder if either one would back down should the democratic process, however it worked, not go their way.

While he may not have understood everything, Roxas could recognize a show of force if nothing else. And seeing this one made the Nobody tilt his head, ”This is… supposed to be just a debate, right? Why all the goons and weapons? Are the candidates expecting the other to try to assassinate them or something? I don’t get it.” Unfortunately the idea of appearances and political optics was completely lost on Roxas.

”Oh boy, hope nothing bad starts happening,” Raz said, ”or this place is gonna be lit up.” Wanting to keep track of the peace, and with no better time to start, Raz slipped one of his arms from its too-long sleeve and brought his fingers to his temple under his hood. If anyone asked this was a completely planned bit of deception on Raz’s part, letting him pull off psychic shenanigans - in this case, putting out his mind reader feelers - without being too obvious about it. Not at all something he chanced upon. Again.

”Though it would be both entertaining and enlightening should the politicians come to blows, would it not?” Karin said, clearly amused by the prospect.

Without further ado, Udo posed the first question. “Gentlemen, our first segment is about the Ever Crisis. The Others, the Machines, and Redshift continue to pose a threat to the citizens of Midgar. What are the differences between your plans to gain ground in this protracted conflict? Senator, a coin flip has decided that you’ll go first, you have two minutes.”

Frowning, Armstrong filled his massive lungs with air to reply. “Our citizens have lived in fear of the Ever Crisis for far, far too long. Year after year, the city’s elite sit in their ivory towers behind their walls, happy to send poor young men and women to fight and die on their behalf. Fighting a war of attrition they don’t believe in and can’t win. Why? Because it’s the undercities that suffer most, and that suits the current Administration just fine. As long as they stay in power, and the poor cityfolk die without ever having control of their own destiny, my opponent is happy to let the Ever Crisis come–it’s thanks to this lax attitude that things are as bad as they are! My plan is to take the initiative. To take the fight out of our streets and neighborhoods, and into the Valley of Ruin! To pull the Ever Crisis out by its roots, no matter how deep they go. Only when, and the cage we’ve been hiding in is open, can the people of Midgar be truly free.”

The man had come out swinging, and Shinra looked angrier than ever, but he kept it coldly suppressed as he gave his own answer. “The difference between myself and my opponent is that he has never tasted conflict. He may be in DespoRHado’s pocket, as we all well know, but he knows nothing of the reality of war. So he makes attractive promises, saying ‘we’ll do something at last!’ In truth, his so-called plan will squander all of Midgar’s forces on this wild goose chase, and will result in far more massive casualties than this supposed ‘war of attrition’. And then, the Ever Crisis would go for our throats. But my Administration has not been sitting idle. We have been hard at work to better understand our enemies, and to improve and perfect our countermeasures. Once I am reelected, the coming months will see the scales tip in Midgar’s favor, and the stream of attacks will dwindle to a trickle. Just this morning, in fact, my latest initiative exterminated a horde of Others infesting the subway system outside Sector 05, giving us a crucial strategic foothold. This is just a taste of what’s to come.”

“Your two minutes are up, you may now rebut your opponent,” Udo told them, as if the two men hadn’t practically opened fire already.

Armstrong gladly took the opportunity. “Abandoned old tunnels, a strategic foothold? Don’t make me laugh. It was a cheap publicity stunt, like all your ‘achievements’. You say you’re hard at work, but all the Administration does is subsist until it’s time for some smoke and mirrors to make it look like you’re doing something. Public Security prefers overpolicing and pushing around its own citizens to killing monsters, and while you’re polishing the plates, it’s DespoRHado putting boots on the ground to fight for people down below. I support DespoRHado because they’re the ones making a difference in people’s lives. That’s what matters, Shinra–results!”

“Your populist rabble-rousing is nothing but inflammatory agitation, and it’s dangerous,” Shinra replied. “By inciting uproar among the masses, you seek to use a perfectly functional Administration as a stepping-stone to seize power for yourself, nevermind if the instability leads to disaster in the process. Public Security has been at the forefront of the war on the Others and the Aberrations, while DespoRHado only concerns itself with the Machines. A battle it’s been losing, might I add! Which is why in the coming weeks that the Administration’s defense contract with DespoRHado will be coming to an end–and Vandelay Technologies stepping in to do what your cronies cannot!”

By this point, the whispers and angry murmurs among the audience had swelled, and both candidates’ security details seemed to be one step away from each other’s throats. After a few moments Udo raised his voice, however, calling for calm. “Settle down, settle down!” he told them. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain civil. This is a presidential debate, not a wrestling ring. That goes for everyone.” He eyed the candidates, who gave him indignant looks in return.

Goldlewis shook his head, his forehead in the palm of his hand. “Goll-ee,” he muttered. This was just the first question.

”Well we already know that some part of the Psych-OSF is turning people into Others, so Mr. Armstrong is kinda right that it’s all a big publicity stunt, isn’t he?” Raz whispered to Goldlewis, who he sat next to because that size difference would be the funniest. The big man gave a stiff nod. Still, Armstrong almost certainly couldn’t have known, so while the Senator had a point Goldlewis didn’t want to fall into the trap of thinking he was in the right just yet. Hopefully things cooled down after this and the team could actually start getting an idea of what the candidates stood for, but the veteran didn’t intend to get his hopes up.

”Maybe he knows because he’s got agents in places people aren’t aware of?” Roxas suggested with a whisper. He recalled in his own world that one of the ways in which Xemnas was able to stay aware of everything going on was because he had people like Xigbar and Saix observing and reporting to him directly. Maybe Armstrong had people like that planted in different sectors and reporting what they see and hear back to him on the sly?

”Given what Raiden said about how DespoRHado worked in his world, they probably have something shady going on under the surface as well… but with a disease that takes over machines running around out there, switching to using Vandelay’s ones might prove disastrous if they don’t have a way to resist that,” Midna (who would not be entirely surprised if DespoRHado would keep that little detail to themselves out of spite) noted from the shadows before coming to a small realization ”But if they are expecting to go up against that, then they’ll be preparing ways to counter it, that adds even more reasons to investigate them for Poppi’s sake.”

Roxas gave a sidelong glance to where Midna was hidden. She was right. And that also meant that Raiden was right all along about DespoRHado, and Roxas decided to say as much, ”It sounds like we should have taken his suggestion to go after them more seriously.”

”Hmm… I can see why Armstrong has the charisma to run against Shinra.” Susie said, scratching her chin.

What a load of crap… Zenkichi thought when Shinra responded to Armstrong's accusations that Midgar was slowly beating back the opponents in the Ever Crisis. Pubsec nearly let an entire undercity get wiped out by Machines to make Armstrong and DesporHado look bad. He didn't buy for a second that Armstrong actually had any way to solve the Ever Crisis, though. Even going out into the Valley of Ruin to attack the Machines was hardly a guarantee of any results given how many bases they had out there. Besides, they had reason to believe DesporHado itself was compromised along with PubSec. Were their two choices in this election really just both rotten to the core? He wasn't sure he wanted to believe it, but he had no reason not to. "I wish we could let people know what's going on without blowing our cover…or looking crazy…" he mumbled.

Though a cacophony of thoughts filled the theater, swirling like a maelstrom on the water, Raz reached out into the storm, sifting through and parsing whatever he could. Upjumped meathead…trying to put us out of business…getting in my way…whatever it takes…shut him up…old hypocrite…just you wait…go ahead and try…Vandelay, replace us?...could break him in two…don’t get cocky... There were a lot of expletives. Almost nobody in the whole place had their mental guard up, except the two candidates. Neither seemed to be as vehement on the inside as they appeared to be on the out. As Raz tried to attune to them, however, he happened to snag a snippet of thought that just about turned him white.

This is already getting good! I won’t have to keep up the act for much longer. I can hardly wait to see what happens when they start to realize...hm? What’s this feeling?

A feeling washed over Raz. A surge of raw panic. Like he’d been covertly watching someone important from afar, only for them to whirl around and stare directly at him. Even though they couldn’t have possibly known.

Well now, that’s even better. I’m gonna have to tune you out though, ‘kay? Gotta wait in line like everyone else. See you real soon…

Then that line of thought disappeared, as suddenly and completely as a fisherman’s hook yanked from the waters.

---

Unlike in the Showcase Theater itself, the people inside Penguin Sniper didn’t need to restrain themselves. Practically everyone with any kind of opinion on Midgar’s political landscape had dropped what they were doing to comment on the proceedings, often repudiating the remarks of one candidate or another and offering insults. And when two people -or groups- happened to have strongly differing views in close proximity, tempers flared. Given that both presidential hopefuls had opened with statements more focused on condemning their opponents than actually shining light on the specifics of their plans, Giovanna couldn’t help but think this made sense. If anything it seemed intentional, this stoking the flames of partisan contention. Armstrong made no bones about it, but even if Shinra was right in condemning it as dangerous, he wasn’t doing much better. A classic case of having your cake and eating it too. These men weren’t trying to have a civil presidential race. She never paid too much attention to stuff like this back in America, but this somehow managed to strike her as even more volatile in comparison. Maybe Midgar’s situation made heated politics like this justified, but Gio didn’t like how the city felt like a tinderbox ready to go up in smoke. Still, one thing was preventing any actual conflict in Penguin Sniper for the moment–the fact that the overwhelming majority around here seemed to be in favor of Shinra. Anyone who thought otherwise probably wouldn’t dare to speak up.

Still, all the hubbub made it really hard for Tora to work. Wanting nothing more than peace and quiet to concentrate on his work, he found himself utterly unable to focus. It wasn’t just the chatter, but the heightened emotion around him that poked and prodded at him like so many mosquitoes. No way he could get anything done in a situation like this. Thus he pushed aside his computer for the time being and stared glumly at the nearest television, nibbling at a small carton of fries; if for no other reason than to get Blazermate off his back. His face was one of abject misery. Every minute that passed him by felt like time in which Poppi was slipping farther away.

”Wow, Armstrong is a meat mountain isn’t he?” Blazermate said, having watched the debate. Sadly there wasn’t much she caught onto from viewing things so far.

"No kidding!"

"Man's large enough to lift a wagon, it looks." Geralt half-seriously commented. Armstrong was not your average noble. He possessed neither the robust gut nor well-manicured frame that the upper class tended to gravitate towards in his experience, instead looking like he could put any witcher to shame in the physicality department. A small part of him wondered if he had any hidden enhancements like the cyborgs he was so close with, but he figured a city as invasive and obsessed with surveilling the every move of the populace as this one would be well aware of that fact and making it obvious. The things the two candidates were saying barely registered with Geralt beyond the fact that Armstrong was blaming Shinra for not making Midgar a city paved with gold and fed with exotic wines and spices, while Shinra warned that Armstrong would burn the city to the ground in his desperate quest for power. He’d much rather be drowning in ale than watching this nonsense, but instead he simply drank water and ate some fatty food to keep himself sated.

Sakura had her cheek resting in her hand. ”They should fight each other.” Sakura said, unknowingly echoing the sentiment of her friend Karin at the event itself.

"That'd be unfair for the old guy," Pit responded, "his opponent's like three times his size!"

He'd been watching the debate with brows furrowed and head tilted, actually trying to retain some of what the candidates were saying... but even though they'd been talking a lot, it didn't seem like either one of them actually answered the question they'd been posed. With no concrete information to grasp onto, it was easy for the angel's brain to slide from the proceedings to Sakura's suggestion.

"But maybe they could pick champions to fight for them. Did you guys see the big bald guy and the lady with the metal-y arm earlier? Tons of kings and gods do that." Of course in his experience, most gods didn't bother with debating anyway, skipping right to the violence. Judging by what was showing on the screen, it looked like that might still be in the cards if tension continued to build.

Expedition to Isekai

______________________________________________________________________

Masato barely registered that someone - Kogen, by the sound of it - had thrown themselves onto the monster before he was lifted up and tossed away. He bounced against the ground and after coming to a stop, he laid there with his eyes closed for more than a few seconds. He hadn't been able to escape on his own, despite his struggle. Still wasn't strong enough to get from under that weight. And of course it was Kogen that had been the one to save him this time. There was anger pooling in Masato's gut, but it was as muted as the rest of his senses at present.

The gentle touch on his face coaxed his eyes open, though focusing on the face hovering in front of him took longer than it should have.

Sato...?

It was her. She was saying something to him. Go? Surely she wasn't telling him to run. Upon glancing up he realized that wasn't it - everyone that had been ambushed at the bus managed to slip away from the chaos while the stronger students held the monsters' attentions. Injured or not, they were going to make a run for it.

As he sat there regaining his sense, he could imagine a host of futures playing out. In some he dove back into battle and the students overcame the beasts, in others the smell of Tsubaki's blood influenced his vision and every member of the class died no matter what they did. No matter what he did. He felt the familiar ache of a decision weighing him down. He looked back at Sato.

"Okay," he said, his voice so thick it nearly stuck in his throat.

If the other kids were going to escape into the woods, he would be there for them. The Changed students would have less to worry about with their friends out of the line of fire, and the Unchanged would need someone to protect them from anything else that was lurking in the night. The ones left to do battle would be alright. They were strong. This was the right choice.

He let Sato take his hand as he pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head a little to get his brain back into place. He ignored the coals churning in his core and moved to relieve Ohta of her burden. Stamped down the ire curled around them to focus on the task at hand.

"We'll get everyone somewhere safe," he told the assembled students, letting Ryuugasaki take the lead to guide them through the trees. Before coming back for the others, went unsaid.

World of Light

^{____________________________________________________}
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 175/80 ------ Level: 6 - Total EXP: 115/60
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
Word Count: 2203 (+3 exp)
Location: The Under

The downside of acquiring something by less than legal means was that finding someone to explain how to actually use it was difficult, if not impossible. The regular citizens in the Home of Tears had scarcely seen the Linkshell system up close, and asking a member of the Mermaid Corps was obviously off the table. The only option was trial and error.

The Linkshell itself was a simple looking item. Up close, Primrose thought her comparison of it being a cross between a conch and a scallop shell was an apt one. It was only a little larger than the palm of her hand, with smooth ridges on the top. It wasn't completely hollow, that much she could tell by its weight, but the pearls it produced came from a groove on the inside of it that led deeper in, where she imagined some animal might have made its home... if the shell was not a man-made construct. That she couldn't tell, but she did know that it must work based on some kind of magic given there were little other features to be found.

Primrose was seated with her umbrella's handle trapped between her arm and her side, shielding her from both the rain and any nosy passersby while she fiddled with the item. Therion had taken the pearl created earlier and, with nothing better to do at the moment, was listening in on the town guard's progress with whatever mission they were handling. Something about Flukes, which he'd seen his fair share of in the Royal Waterways.

"Oh."

The thief glanced over, but his line of sight was just as obscured as any random person on the street.

"What?"

"Its color changed."

Primrose hummed lightly, and with a few swipes of her hand the Linkshell's color changed once more. She wasn't quite sure what she'd done to start the process, but now that something had happened she pressed on. The hue cycled until it landed on a pretty, reddish color; and when she generated a pearl, its own color matched.

"...sounds like the connection's dead," Therion said, pulling the original pearl out of his ear. He hadn't been able to hear anything after Primrose changed the shell's color. She handed him the new pearl and he pressed that where the prior one had been. The dancer created her own and did the same.

"Let's see if this worked..." She held her fingers to her ear, watching Therion mirror the gesture. "Testing..."

She could instantly tell that something had happened by the brief look of surprise that passed over her friend's face. He returned the favor, confirming that with the changing of the device's color a new network was established. Very pleased with herself, Primrose let the Linkshell start producing as she tucked it away once more.

She stood, about to suggest to Therion that they try and find some of the others when a sigil lit up the "sky." A twisted red sign, the same that had been on Consul P. Therion turned quickly to see what she was staring at, and after recognition kicked in the travelers glanced at each other. Not a moment later they hurried through the rain drenched streets in the direction the ominous signal was coming from. They arrived at the central fountain, reunited with the other Seekers that had been drawn by the Consul's beacon.

He really was lured in by P's defeat, Primrose thought. Unfortunately most of the group were still fatigued and healing from the battle earlier. They would be hard pressed to try and take on a second Consul so soon after the first, especially if what F said was true about P being the weakest of their number. She was inclined to believe it. And though F said he wasn't interested in hurting them just then, Primrose prepared herself for a fight all the same - but what followed couldn't really be described as a simple fight.

When the Consul's ruse was put into motion Therion lashed out at the Consul with his fire, too little too late. The flames ate up the air F had been occupying and fizzled out. Therion let out a harsh breath, halfway to a snarl. He knew it was pointless to stick around looking for F, not to mention too dangerous, so he abandoned the central fountain with most of the others. He and Primrose made a beeline for the white whale, the latter clearing a path with her dark magic surging. Both of them were singed, cut, and scraped, but they'd made it to the vehicle of their escape.

It seemed the entire city's population was after them, a scene similar to the one in the Metro but worse. Familiar faces were among the pursuers, from Irenes the friendly guard to Primrose's opponents from the Royal Canopy Club. All of them were robbed of their agency, one of their eyes lit up in an angry red glow. Forced to run, the travelers kept who they could at bay, fending off would be boarders while trying to deal with ranged attackers.

Primrose manifested the Makami and commanded it with a call of, "Mafrei!" Her striker howled and cast its magic, forcing a swath of citizens back away from the water's edge. Its master kept her own casting up, countering magic bolts and blasts that sailed the Seekers' way with her shadow. With her flame she ignited the boats in pursuit of them and spurned anyone gathered on the canal's edge looking for an attack of opportunity. The Devout Beads on her back let out a constant glow as they shot enemies and projectiles out of the air. This situation made her style of buff almost impossible, so rather than dance Primrose focused on her magic. The Baldur Shell having long since broken under the hail of attacks.

When he could, Therion lent her some of his mana - as well as ever other caster aboard. He darted around the creature's back playing support and clean up, tagging the magic users to donate his own mana in order to keep them going. He had his shield equipped, steadily blocking knives and arrows that came their way, and any sneaky hanger-ons that grasped to the side of the whale's body found themselves on the wrong end of his daggers.

It was an all out assault, with a desperate defense by the Seekers. If they couldn't hold out it would suck up the last of their energy and probably kill them. Fueled by adrenaline, Therion all but ignored Ichiban's words of thanks and just continued his work - which only got all the harder after the whale resurfaced from its dive.

A shadow passed under the water, and nearby their whale Barbary emerged from the canal. There was a sharp toothed grin on her face as she rose up, almost towering over the Seekers.

"Ye think ye can escape?" She bellowed, her tentacles thrashing beneath her and churning the water. "My bombs're gonna blow ye sky high!"

True to form she conjured a couple of bombs, seeming not to care that there were several of the city's citizens also present on the whale's back. She tossed them up, which refocused the Travelers' attentions. Therion threw a hand up with the intent to intercept them with his Wildfire, only for the spell to sputter and fail. He cursed under his breath. He'd always been bad at managing his own mana, but was he really out or was the stress of the situation affecting his focus?

Primrose stepped in then, hurling a Fire Orb Barbary's way. The fire ball met the bombs in midair, the explosion pushing the octopus woman back and washing the Seekers with hot air, nearly turning the rain to steam. The dancer let out a deep breath, meeting Barbary's annoyed glare.

"Why you..." the pirate growled, raising an arm to conjure another bomb. This time, Therion moved to preempt her. Barbary was close enough that one good dash and jump saw him land on the octopus' body, taking hold of one of her spikes to keep his footing.

"What are ye doing?!" She shrieked, surprised at she herself had been boarded. Her surprise turned to pained outrage when he turned his sword on her. The blade sliced through her sleeve and bit into her arm, making her yank the limb out of the sword's reach. Her tentacles came up all at once, but Therion was ready for them. He used up a Boost, energy glowing around his body as he strengthened himself. He cut through one tentacle, separating a majority of it from the base. Then another, a third, spraying blue blood as the limbs thrashed around.

He hoped that losing parts of her body might make the giant back down, but unfortunately that wasn't the case.

"Grrrrraaaaah!" Barbary slammed her wounded tentacles into the water, making a huge splash. Therion shielded his eyes from the water, and when he looked again all of the limbs were back to normal, if a little fresher looking. Completely regrown, as if his attack hadn't mattered at all.

"You're kidding me," he groaned. He turned back to Barbary's main body, the human-half that he suspected was probably her weak point. He raised his sword to stab her, but a tentacle shot towards him. It intercepted his sword and curled around him, and with a laugh Barbary flung the thief away.

"Therion!" Primrose had been tangling with a few enemies that recently swooped in overhead, but seeing her friend tossed through the air she swatted Zasp into the water and summoned her Makami again, willing it to zip over Therion's way. It wrapped its body around his arm to catch him and floated there in the air to stop his movement. He made an attractive target for many pursuers like that, but the spike of pain from an arrow was better than being cast into the water to drown. Plus he had a good angle on Barbary at the moment, using his Shackle Foe at the same time the Makami cast its Tarunda, the both of them lowering Barbary's attack power. He dropped back down onto the white whale's back once the striker's time was up.

Barbary could feel something happen to her, but she disregarded it entirely. Letting out a roar she lunged for the whale, hooking the claw of her front two tentacles into its body to slow it down.

"I'll be sending ye scallywags straight to the locker!" She raised her arms up, creating a bomb larger than the others. If the Seekers set it off preemptively, its size and proximity would mean the explosion would get to them either way. "Yaharharhar!"

She lobbed it right at the whale. She cackled as she watched the people on board scramble, but she didn't get to watch it explode. Fwip. A well placed knife severed its wick and the bomb landed on the blubber with an anticlimactic plop, taking a least one mind controlled citizen with it as it rolled off the other side. Barbary turned her glare on Therion who'd thwarted her bomb.

Before she could raise one tentacle to smash him, she felt the sting of Primrose's own dagger. It was swathed in dark magic, cutting Barbary's grasp on the whale. In the next moment the dark lance of the Rites of Termination formed and slammed down on the octopus woman. It slashed through her upper body and all but pinned half of her tentacles to the bottom of the canal, spreading magic that would crash into any other underwater pursuers. Barbary hollered more in anger than in pain, but either way she was stuck and the Seekers were free to get on with their escape.

Even after the whale they were riding left the canal and crashed into the cliff face of the Crumble Caverns, the pursuit didn't stop. Aquatic citizens tried to leap the gap themselves, while flying ones crossed right over. It pushed the Seekers into the tunnel, at which point the Travelers split up.

Therion assumed his beast form and shot forward, overtaking the other Seekers to blaze a path forward. He'd heard the brief exchange with Purse, so he knew the ultimate goal was a tower at the end of the cavern. The tunnel's obstacles didn't hinder him much at all, and the rat creatures that didn't flee at the sight of the large wild cat found themselves at the mercy of Therion's blade and claws, mercy which he didn't have much of at the moment.

Primrose took the opposite approach, following the safest path beat by the other Seekers. Although once she confirmed that everyone was inside the cavern, she paused only once to turn back to the way they'd come and summon her other striker.

"Hippowdon, collapse the entrance!" she said, and the Pokémon raised itself up onto its hind legs. She left it there to fulfill its command, and when it slammed its feet back down an Earthquake shook the area. Hopefully it would stop any other pursuers from getting inside the cavern, as there was no telling when F's control would wear off, or if it even would.

What Are You Listening To?

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