[center][h3][color=tan]Courier 6[/color] and [color=orange]Ratchet[/color] and [color=sandybrown]Jak &[/color] [color=darkorange]Daxter[/color][/h3]
[b]Level 5[/b] - (40/50) EXP (+3), [b]Level 5[/b] - (7/50) (+3), [b]Level 2[/b] - (5/20) (+3)
[b]Location:[/b] Land of Adventure - Outside Lumbridge, Redgraccoon City - Charnal Lane
[b]Word Count:[/b] 2771[/center]

Unusually for the Courier, he was worryingly silent for a pretty long stretch of time. Leaving the guild hall accompanied by Bowser and Linkle, they met up with a strange new man who looked like he came right out of an old Groknak the Barbarian comic book, with fantasy style armor, medieval weaponry, and strange eyes suggesting he wasn’t quite human. He had a gruff, grizzled appearance to him that matched the Courier’s own, and the mailman felt something of a kindred nature to this “witcher,” if not in ability then in theme. He could feel this Geralt (as he introduced himself) felt the same way. Maybe there was some sort of psychic connection between those who died and came back from the brink? An unknown connection? Bah, these weren’t the sort of thoughts he normally cared for.

The koopa king’s wizard rejoined them as well, saying he had visited the Master of Masters, which instantly caused the Courier’s blood to boil. The red in his face would be visible to anybody who even half paid him any attention (ironic for a professional gambler to have such a terrible poker face!). According to Kamek, the MoM had no relationship whatsoever with the local guildmaster, and their similar wardrobe choice had more to do with a primordial force of evil magic in their world than any particular group. Naturally the Courier found this claim to be highly suspicious, but he couldn’t write it off as lies so quickly. After all, the best liars knew when to include the truth to bolster their lies. Damn, if only he knew magic himself, then he might be able to figure out what the MoM was up to, or force him to tell the truth. Maybe he [i]could[/i] learn magic. Either by being taught, or through a much faster way… With a spirit.

The Courier’s thoughts were forced back to the present as Din rejoined them alongside another dancer, who claimed to also be a fortune teller. This woman offered to tell all their fortunes, something that Linkle was all too happy to lap up. What the hell? The Courier wasn’t one to deny any free service, and who knows? The Forecaster back home was always right, and he was just a little kid. A psychic little kid that amplified his natural gift with a helmet sure enough, but a little kid all the same. Who knew what sort of results could come from a magical fortune teller who had more years to hone her craft?

The Courier watched the shadows move and listened to their master speak, interpreting the events. First a tall figure with long sleeves running in fear, then enveloped in fire. The fortune teller said that they would soon “understand the task” implying they didn’t fully grasp their current reality, which 6 thought was fair. But which task? Killing Galeem’s cronies to get to the ball of light itself? The quests this guild gave them all? Something they hadn’t even run into yet? The next vision was a bit more explicit, with what appeared to be Linkle and another long-eared individual, coupled with the narration that there would be a betrayal, but one that would be beneficial to them all. Curious. Could his own plotting against the Master be seen as a betrayal to the group? But what role would Linkle and this other individual play into that if true? Kamek reported that, according to the Master of Masters, his group wore animal masks. If that was a kernal of truth, then perhaps… The scene faded as both were attacked by large blades, only to be replaced by a separate scene of Bowser and Kamek, utterly unmistakable, with some statements about discovery and choosing sides (perhaps the betrayal earlier would fracture the group?). A smaller figure appeared to be absorbing a spirit, becoming, as the fortune teller said, “what was meant to be.” Fuck that, nothing is meant to be. Choice was the only thing that mattered. Finally the last image, a man and woman with swords, apparently about to battle? But they did not want to, according to the teller’s interpretation.

Apparently the adventure would be full of incredible revelations as they carried onward. Not unexpected, really. This was a hodgepodge of dozens, if not hundreds or thousands of worlds. There was absolutely no way they could have a full understanding of what was going on so early on in the game. Especially not when much of that exposition was given to them by [i]him.[/i] Best to place down their bets and spin the wheel. After that, whatever happens, happens.

After that the fortune teller excused herself, leaving the group to mull over what they had just witnessed. The Courier kept his thoughts to himself, for obvious reasons, and didn’t comment on the others. Instead he focused on the [url=https://i.ytimg.com/vi/P4idky18D94/maxresdefault.jpg]flying alien spaceship[/url] passing overhead. Nobody else seemed to pay it any mind, so the Courier figured it must have been a local and didn’t bring it up, even as it disappeared over the horizon.

[img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/fallout/images/f/fa/Perk_wild_wasteland.png/revision/latest?cb=20101127221309[/img]

Since Linkle had agreed to accompany the Courier to go wrangle up some wigglers (which Bowser deemed as potentially dangerous and used in his own army, which meant that they couldn’t [i]possibly[/i] be harmful) he decided to stick around with the group as they meandered and wasted some time. First was a trip to a kitchen, where Bowser was given a list of ingredients. Mmm, some down home cookin’, using whatever you found out in the wild. That was his style. His style, but not his quest. He’d leave such a “dignified” quest to the monarch.

[hr]

Courier 6 was about to leave Lumbridge when Linkle (obviously) got distracted. He was about to reprimand her when, shock of shocks, she was attracted to a strange breed of chickens. He had seen pictures of these animals in books from before the Great War, but never in person. Like most animals in his world, chickens had gone extinct. Fucking nuclear wasteland. Linkle called them her friends. Really now? So she was good with animals too? This was just too precious to ruin with a good tongue thrashing. He approached and held his hand over the fence alongside the hylian girl, where a “cuccoo” landed on his hand and bawked happily. For the first time in a while he broke his silence.

[color=tan]”Heh. I reckon they like me. No surprise there, most animals take a shinin’ to me even more’n the master they’ve loved fer years. Don’t know why.”[/color] He turned to face Linkle and, with Din’s own affirmation, nodded in agreement. [color=tan]”I’ll make a promise to ya, pardner. We’ll get yer little friends back no matter what, an’ I never break a pardner promise. If’n Boone or Arcade or any of the old posse were here right now, I know they’d tell ya what my word is worth.”[/color]

With that said, the Courier took off South, heading for the area where he was supposed to be catching up some wigglers. That was the plan he had laid out, after all. Go south, get wigglers, then head east to the fish monster problem. Two nearby quest areas in a quick pinch, yee-haw! Ah, but walking would take a while, wouldn’t it? If only they had a faster way of getting out there… That’s when the Courier spotted some of those [url=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/6/67/Chocobo.png]giant birds[/url] that were roaming around outside the town. They looked mighty strong, and were certainly big enough to be a good mount! Better than his heracross, anyway. He didn’t imagine the giant beetle was a fast runner.

[color=tan]”Howdy birdies!”[/color] he hollered out, waving his arms. A small group of three chocobos stopped what they were doing to stare at the Courier, puzzled and curious. He waved them on over, an invite they took. Though they showed no signs of fear to the Courier himself, they did appear to be wary of his companions. [color=tan]”There there, birdies. It’s alright,”[/color] he said with a drawl, patting the nearest chocobo on the beak. It cooed in appreciation, so he hopped on up without a fuss.

[color=tan]”Perfect. Y’all are welcome t’see if’n they’re willin’ ta let you ride them. In any case, I’m off to wrangle me some wigglers. Feel free to saddle up with me, either way I’ll be headin’ off t’the fish monsters right after. YEE-HAW!”[/color] And with that his chocobo mount took off South, running far faster than he had anticipated.

[hr][hr]

The shoulder slap and encouragement from the pretty boy did nothing for Ratchet, mostly because what he assumed to be Ratchet wasn’t actually there. His hand phased right through the Dec0y hologram. The real Ratchet, invisible, was right up in the thick of the action already bashing the tank zombie around the head, standing atop its shoulders. His invisibility phased out as the Dec0y was spotted for what it really was, but he had already gotten several good thwacks in with his omniwrench. Unlike Gene however, he knew when to get the heck out of dodge. That beeping was signal enough, especially for a lombax who used enough heavy firepower weapons himself. With some well timed backflip hops he was safely out of the danger zone. Gene? Not so much. 

The tank exploded violently, spreading ludicrous gibs all over the place. Jak landed, his wings dissipating into the air like a thousand little fire embers dying out, his light form doing much the same. [color=sandybrown]”Not the brightest bulb in the kitchen, are you?”[/color] Jak asked a bit more smug than was necessary.

[color=darkorange]”Yeah, we were all the way up in the sky and we still recognized the sound of a bomb! What a dingus!”[/color] Daxter added.

[color=orange]”Hold up guys, I mean, he took that bomb to the face and still walked away from it,”[/color] Ratchet reasoned. [color=orange]”He’s probably weaker than normal, like the rest of us, and just went off of muscle memory. Maybe at his full power that kind of explosion wouldn’t phase him? After all, [i]you[/i] broke your car trying to ram him earlier and didn’t leave a scratch on the guy.”[/color]

[color=sandybrown]”Hmf. Fair enough. But he needs to watch himself, because I’m not pulling any of my punches.”[/color]

[color=darkorange]”Guys, guys, set that all aside and let’s focus on the important stuff!”[/color] Daxter intervened, sounding abnormally like the voice of reason. [color=darkorange]”Who had more kills?”[/color] He narrowed his eyes on Ratchet with a condescending grin. Well, that voice of reason lasted all of two seconds, a new personal best. [color=darkorange]”Because by my count your puny boom boom gun didn’t do JACK while [i]I[/i]-”[/color] Jak glared at his friend. [color=darkorange]”-I mean WE, took out a dozen, no, a hundred, no A THOUSAND slobbering zombies!”[/color]

Clank appeared to counter Daxter’s ludicrous claims. “By my observation the ensuing shrapnel of Ratchet’s explosions fell three nearby zombies, while Jak’s vulcan fury pierced through and destroyed thirty-nine. Would you like a visual playback?”

[color=orange]”Clank!”[/color] Ratchet shouted. The little robot ever so slightly recoiled back in surprise.

“... Not helping?”


[color=orange]”Not helping,”[/color] Ratchet agreed.

“Then pardon my intrusion.” Clank gave a little bow, then vanished again.

At about this time Nero called for everyone to pack up and head out. Jak and Ratchet were about to race each other over to the tank zombie’s spirit, only for it to have already been taken by one of the others. Damn, too much time arguing! Oh well, there would be others.

Nero pointed out some sort of spire that looked like it was made not from any normal construction material, but of flesh and blood. “Eeeewwww, groddy!” was the thought through Daxter’s head, but he didn’t vocalize it (for once in his life) as they were to be moving through quietly. Even he recognized the importance of not drawing attention to yourself when surrounded in enemy territory! So Jak and Daxter hopped back into the van while Ratchet got back into his kart, and they all took off. 

[hr]

The van came to a halt in less than ideal circumstances, the Blue Falcon kart right behind it. A huge crater blocked their path, necessitating a detour. Situations like these always seemed to be ripe with ambushes, so every hero was alert: Ratchet, Clank, and Jak out of vigilance, and Daxter out of sheer anxiety. The van’s detour took it through a graveyard, first busting down the gates and then bouncing around the stairs. [color=darkorange]”WOAH WOAH WOAH HEY! WATCH THE ROAD YOU CRAZY DAME!”[/color]

[color=orange]”Oof! I don’t think the kart was made for terrain like this!”[/color] Ratchet commented as he followed behind. Something was knocked loose in the engine and parts of the frame cracked. [i]Great[/i] that was going to need extra work. The engine began smoking and died, the kart slowing to a total stop near the van. 

That’s when all Hell broke loose. A huge demon howled, bursting onto the scene and showing off its ability to turn corpses into yet another variety of zombie. [color=sandybrown]”Now that’s what I’m talking about!”[/color] Jak jumped out of the van, Daxter atop his shoulder. Ratchet sighed and hopped out of the now-dead kart, mourning its loss. Then another of these demons burst from the wall, knocking the van aside and into the void! Gasps came from all three heroes.

[color=darkorange]”We almost just died!”[/color] cried Daxter. Jak didn’t have the time to chastise his friend’s sense of priority, and Ratchet was already springing into action. Nero was displaying absolutely[i]inhuman[/i] strength by planting his feet and single handedly keeping the van from falling to its total doom, but this was taking everything the young demonslayer had, while enemies were quickly advancing on his position. Ratchet decided that he’d be up for some crowd control with his bombuilder, flipping right in front of Nero’s position.

[color=orange]”Locked and loaded!”[/color] he said, firing off a proximity bomb into the swarm to thin the numbers early and quickly. It landed directly on the corpse one of the suffering was in the middle of reviving, blasting the thing to smithereens and taking out a good chunk of the surrounding zombies with it… But the suffering only looked to be [i]pissed off.[/i]

[color=darkorange]”Get’im, Jak!”[/color] Jak needed no encouragement. He lived for this kind of grim fight. His morph gun switched to blaster form and he unloaded shot after shot of high powered yellow eco into the swarm, each ball of energy burning a chuck out of the zombie it hit. He charged forward as he shot until he came face to face with the suffering that was about to charge.

[color=darkviolet]”Prepare to die!”[/color] In a sudden surge of dark eco, Jak gained tremendous muscle mass, pitch black eyes, grayed skin, and long claws. Rippling with the power of dark eco, Dark Jak was ready to tussle with the suffering head on!

“ROOOOOAR!” The suffering slammed him aside almost effortlessly with two massive arms. Dark Jak tumbled along the ground, bouncing like a rubber ball.

[color=darkorange]”Jak? JAK?! What happened, buddy?!”[/color] Daxter shouted into his friend’s face, his own nature protecting him from the dark eco radiating off Jak’s body. Suddenly and without warning Jak’s eyes opened and he let out his own roar. Nearly throwing Daxter off, Jak jumped up and grabbed the nearest object to him, Ratchet’s broken down Blue Falcon.

[color=orange]”Hey! I was gonna fix that!”[/color] Ratchet’s protests went unheard and ignored. The metal and plastic began to warp, twist, and burn away. The dark eco arcing through Jak’s body destroyed parts, and altered others so the kart was unrecognizable from its original state. He charged forward, bashing zombies out of his way with the huge club until he came to the suffering again.

[color=darkviolet]”RAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”[/COLOR] Dark Jak smashed the kart, rippling with dark eco, right into the suffering with both arms, screaming with rage and adrenaline all the way.