[center][h3]Esaka - the Pools[/h3] [b]Setting:[/b] Sunny Thursday Noon Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (190/150) Level 11 Big Band (85/110) Amaterasu’s [@DracoLunaris] Roland’s [@Archmage MC] Pit’s [@Yankee] Sakura & Juri’s [@Zoey Boey] Captain Falcon’s [@Double] Harry and Kim’s [@Eviledd1984] Terry’s [@Terry Bogard] Yayama’s [@Chevaleresse] Grima’s [@Goggy] [b]Word Count:[/b] 1888 / 1220[/center] It took a little while for Nadia to retrace her steps to the World Warrior portion of the Pools, especially with Shina and Beowulf tagging along. From what little she’d seen so far of the tournaments’ qualifying rounds, the majority of opponents tended not to speak much to one another either before or after the fight, often offering one another little more than a curt ‘good fight’ once the duel concluded one way or another. People who traded banter beforehand or discussed the match afterward were in the minority. And even though Nadia herself was on the more talkative side, she thought it made sense. With a lot on the line, especially in Mortal Kombat, tensions ran high and tempers could flare easily. If good sportsmanship predominated, it was less out of the kindness of fighters’ hearts and more out of fear of the Heavenly Principles, always watching and waiting for any injunction. Beowulf and Shina, however, were exceptions to that rule. Even after their clash ended with a ring-out every single round (and such cheap wins often sparked anger) they laughed off their bruises, complimented one anothers’ techniques, and poked fun at each others’ patterns. With such outgoing, larger-than-life personalities, the wrestler and the mercenary were two peas in a pod. With people like that around, the extroverted Ms Fortune couldn’t help but laugh and joke along. By the time they finally reached the World Warriors matches, it was almost lunch time. With three sets of eyes, at least, it took less time to find the other NMO members again. It was Beowulf that spotted Annie’s distinctive mint-green hair through the crowd, and when he led the way over across an arched stone bridge, the two found her and Filia together at a gazebo-like rest area. Even Robo-fortune happened to be there, standing off to the side with her arms crossed as she scoped out the competition. “Hey!” Nadia waved enthusiastically as she trotted over, getting the girls’ attention. “Wanna get lunch?” “That sounds great!” Filia perked up right away and practically leaped to her feet, her ruby-red eyes sparkling. “I’m famished!” The parasite in the back of her agreed in his typical gruff manner. “You can say that again.” Nadia wondered if Filia and Samson shared the same stomach. They had to, right? But did that mean Filia had a second throat through the back of her head…? Well, whatever. It wasn’t like her whole deal made any more sense. Parasites were probably just magic, too. Annie, meanwhile, had taken a second to consult the gazebo’s bulletin board, which fortunately nobody else was using at the moment. “Yeah, looks like we’ve got time.’ She picked up her [url=https://i.imgur.com/xcoHP9g.png]stuffed rabbit, Sagan,[/url] by one ear and slung him over her shoulder like a backpack. The eye inside his mouth, which looked just like Annie’s sole remaining eye, visibly shifted to stare at Nadia. The feral gave him the I’m-watching-you gesture, and Annie glanced over her shoulder to see what Nadia was pointing at. “Not that much time, though. Let’s get a move on.” “Where to?” Filia asked, eager to get going. Beowulf shrugged. “Fortune and I figured we’d head up to the Middle Tier and wing it.” “Shocker,” Annie mumbled. The five set off, headed for the southwestern elevator. Robo followed along behind them, clearly interested in neither speaking nor eating with the others. As they walked, the first subject on everyone’s mind was how everyone was doing in their brackets so far. “So,” Filia started, pulling up beside Beowulf and Shina. “How’s Tekken going for you so far, Beo?” “So far, so good!” The wrestler reported with a grin and a thumbs-up. “Three-one against this goober named ‘Terrific Forelock’ in round one, and three-two against Shina here in round two! Slaaaaam dunk!” The mercenary shrugged, chuckling. “Oh, please. It was down to the wire. Could’ve gone the other way just as easily. If I get the runback in Losers, you’d better get that ass ready for a whooping!” That hardly seemed to intimidate Beowulf–in fact, he seemed more excited than anything. “Haha, we can run it back any time you want lady, day or night!” “Hah. Don’t tempt me,” Shina replied. Walking alongside Annie, Nadia raised an eyebrow at her. [i]Are they flirting?[/i] she mouthed. Annie just pursed her lips, wincing. “Uh, moving on…I did win my second match, too. My opponent was a boxer named Wei. He was no slouch, I’ll give him that. Actually had to get a little serious.” She shrugged. “Definitely not a low seed. Bet he’ll tear things up in Losers.” “Oh, I won my first Losers match!” Filia reported happily. “They put me up against this huge, buff old giant named Raizo. He looked scary, but he turned out to be pretty nice.” She crossed her arms, unable to hide her smug smile. “And pretty slow!” Samson snickered. “We ran circles around him. Couldn’t deal with our air game.” Laughing, Beowulf reached his brawny, hairy arms out to clap a hand on both Nadia and Annie’s shoulders. “Hah! Sounds like NMO is killin’ it so far! We might be on the up and up!” With a huff, Annie brushed his hand off. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, has-been. We’ve all got a long road ahead of us.” The road to the Middle Tier, at least, was relatively short. Once they reached the elevator they waited around for it to arrive, long enough for Robo-fortune to catch up, and a minute later they boarded the lift together. In no time at all they reached the middle tier, but without enough time to sit down at a real restaurant, the five decided to follow a time-honored tournament tradition and grab some street food instead. They found a [url=https://i.imgur.com/HieqGk0.png]plaza[/url] where a number of food trucks had congregated around a couple dozen round tables, each endowed with a colorful table cloth and umbrella. Right now, with it being lunchtime at all, the place was full of other fighters who’d had the same idea, but the five found an open table and planted Robo-fortune there to claim it. They then settled on Burrito OS, a Mexican food truck offering burritos, tacos, chimichangas, and so on, and returned to their table laden with food after a few minutes in line. The food and vibes were both great, especially since Nadia offered to pay for everyone out of her ill-gotten gains. After crunching through her chimichanga, Nadia licked her fingers. “Purr-etty good. Coulda been way spicier, though.” Beowulf looked at her like she was crazy. “You serious? I thought it was kind of spicy already…” “‘Fur’ real?” Nadia snickered at him. [sub]”Pussy.”[/sub] The wrestler gave her a heartbroken look, which he promptly turned on Shina once the mercenary started chuckling too. “Aw, c’mon. No wonder you ladies like it hot, your hearts are ice-cold!” “Oh, Shina!” Nadia got her fellow blonde’s attention. “I can turn into a tiger too, you know! Well, a little.” Shina crossed her arms. “Hey, I’m a [i]leopard[/i], not a tiger. What d’you mean by ‘a little’? Like, a little tiger? Sounds cute.” “Nono, I mean a paw-tial transformation,” Nadia explained as she raised one arm to flex. “Check meowt~” Using the Fluffy Soft power gained from her Super Anthromorph fusion, Nadia morphed her arm into that of a white tiger, with pale fur, black stripes, and huge curved claws. “Cool!” Filia cooed through a mouthful of burrito. As she chewed and swallowed, she tossed the rest of the burrito into the air. Samson lashed out a lock of raven-black hair like a tentacle, caught it, and stuffed it in his fanged maw. Then Filia began to unwrap her third burrito. “By the way, Ms Fortune, Samson asked you a question earlier, but it was too grumbly for you to hear.” Her parasite paused mid-chew. “He asked, what’s with all the puns?” Filia did her best impression of her partner’s deep, growly voice, then bit into her burrito. Samson swallowed. “That was rhetorical,” he grumbled under his breath. The feral batted her eyelashes at him, pouting. “Aw, you don’t like ‘em? You’re gonna hurt my felines…” “Bah, that’s a stretch,” Shina criticized jovially before turning her attention to Filia. “You can sure pack it away, huh kid?” Filia’s eyes went wide as she froze, her face reddening, then swallowed. “W-well, I’m a growing girl, hehe.” She pointed at the back of her head. “Samson says I have to eat a lot if I want to build muscle!” “Oh? But this doesn’t look like muscle to me!” With a grin Shina poked Filia, who squeaked. “If you want abs like mine, you’ve got to work out every day! Sit-ups, crunches, lateral raises!” Fila groaned and reached for her fourth burrito. “But working out is haaaard…” “It can be fun, though!” Beowulf insisted, looking at Shina. “Right? I bet with Shina’s help, I could finally make a regimen you’ll actually wanna do, Filia!” “Yeah!” Shina pumped her fist. Filia blanched. “Oh gosh, now there are two of you meatheads after me?” She hid behind Annie for protection. “Save me, Annie!” “Save yourself,” the Girl of the Stars muttered as Samson took advantage of the distraction to delicately prize the last burrito from his host’s grasp. The group continued to bicker and joke until the conversation turned back toward the tournament. This time, Nadia actually did consult the bulletin board beforehand. “Next up, me and Robo are fightin’ two gals named Maya and Mira.” “From the Killer Instinct dojo,” Annie informed her. “Sisters. They’re no pushovers, actually. You two better bring your A-game.” Nadia laughed halfheartedly. “Right, haha. Maybe we oughta…well, practice or somethin’...” “What about me?” Beowulf asked. “I’m up against Mitsurugi.” The Girl of the Stars nodded sagaciously. “A samurai who wields the Shishi-oh. From the Soul Calibur dojo. Their top fighters used to be stars on par with King of Fighters or Tekken, but nowadays they’ve fallen off, leaving them firmly in the Middle Tier. Still, Mitsurugi is a mainstay of the dojo, and not a foe to take lightly.” Nodding, Beowulf looked impressed. “A samurai,” he repeated, the word unfamiliar on his tongue. “Wow, you really do know everything. How old [i]are[/i] you, really?” “That’s none of your fffffffudging business,” Annie replied matter-of-factly, failing to utter her desired swear word. A moment later Shina got to her feet, stretching her strong arms. “Well, that was a good meal. Thanks for having me along. Gotta bounce, though. Ten minutes ‘til my next match.” Realizing what time it was, Nadia jumped up. “Holy crap, I better get goin’. The Mortal Kombat pools are farther away. Better cut across the Middle Tier to make it in time.” “Good luck!” Filia told her. Beowulf, who had been crunching through a honeyed sopapilla as he stood to go after Shina, just waved. As Shina jogged away, the feral took off, sprinting the opposite direction. Robo-fortune fell in behind her as they headed north, her metal frame clanking with each hurried step. Sisters from the Killer Instinct dojo, eh? It sounded like Nadia would have a real fight on her hands. Hopefully she wouldn’t be late. [hr] True to Anji’s description, the Wine-cup Hold did resemble a castle, a picturesque, almost fairytale specimen of Renaissance French architecture, with spotless white plaster along its stone brick walls and rounded towers covered with exuberant ornamentation, their roofs full of lucarne windows. Of course, as a winery and not a fortified palace, many of the Wine-cup Hold’s features were purely decorative, and so much smaller than their real-life counterparts that they couldn’t practically be used. Still, the functional portcullis that permitted entry into the winery’s lavish walled yard was rather charming, and the wrought iron tables and chairs in that outdoor seating area were as elegant as the flourishing rose bushes. By the time they reached the castle’s gates, there were so many Seekers along for the ride that Band couldn’t help but feel like the vanguard of an invading army. The one omission that surprised him was Zenkichi, who he would have definitely expected to be here. Yayama had beaten the rest of her new allies here, but aside from here there weren’t many people present in the sunny, aromatic courtyard. A bespectacled [url=https://i.imgur.com/5q8ajH0.png]dancer[/url] in stylish Japanese attire stood in the shade of a young hawthorn tree with gray bark and red berries, keeping his muscular chest cool with the help of a large, patterned fan. This was Anji Mito, whose name Yayama had offered her compatriots along with that of their destination in a follow-up call. In a corner stood two black women who stopped chatting to watch the Seekers as they arrived. One, with [url=https://i.imgur.com/jZpf7pz.png]thick white braids[/url], geometric tattoos, and black clothes, wore gold jewelry and glasses that gave her the look of a fashionista. The other, who sported [url=https://i.imgur.com/2NqTuBQ.png]thin purple dreads[/url], favored white cloth with red and green accents, blue beads, and leather belts. She also leaned on a giant sawtoothed cleaver, as easily as someone might lean on a cane. Finally, there was an old gentleman with white hair, goatee, and sunglasses, wearing an exceptionally fine off-white suit that featured a purple tie. He was the only one seated at a table, with one leg crossed over the other and a wine glass a quarter full of deep red merlot in arm’s reach. Also on the table lay what looked like a high-tech scabbard with glowing purple lights built into the case, the black handle of a discreetly curved swordblade protruding from one end. “Ah, there you are,” Anji addressed the Seekers with a smile before gesturing to the empty tables. “Welcome to Wine-cup Hold. Please, seat yourselves and relax. We’ve rented the place out for the hour, so nobody will disturb us. The staff will be out shortly to take your orders.” He extended an arm toward the seated man. “It is my pleasure to introduce to you the provisional head of the United Nations, Mr. Victor Chevalier.” Chevalier nodded his head. “The pleasure is mine,” he began, speaking in perfect French. Somehow, everyone understood him anyway, and not just Yayama whose Echo nullified all language barriers. “Allow me to be brief and get business out of the way up front, so that we may enjoy our meal and afternoon. I am indeed the leader of the United Nations, although we are hardly a coalition of nations with entire populations and economies at our backs. In Esaka, we are merely a group of like-minded fighters from the many different countries of Earth.” “I, naturally, represent France.” Chevalier glanced toward Anji, who bowed. “This is Mr. Anji Mito, representative of Japan. And over in the corner there, those beautiful ladies are Dolores and Darli, representatives of Mali and Madagascar, respectively.” Dolores, standing with her arms crossed, merely adjusted her glasses, while Darli gave a confident wave. Big Band’s eyes rested longer on Dolores than perhaps they should have, and when he realized he looked away. Chevalier continued. “Our goal as an organization is simple: to overthrow the Four Kings’ tyrannical rule and establish a democratic government. This is easier said than done, of course, given our limited numbers and resources. What we do have, however, is knowledge. About Esaka, and the people in it.” He took a sip from his glass, composed and classy. “For instance, we know what has become of the ambitious few who’ve attempted to raid the G-Corp HQ so far. It seems they have more Jack units than the ones they used last night.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Their numbers are not infinite, however, and they’re already moving to replenish their ranks. A new shipment is already on its way from G-Corp’s main production plant in the Tangled Shore.” He pursed his lips, frowning. “If we are to work together to destroy G-Corp, our first goal is to weaken G-corp and force its higher-ups to take action. As such, rather than fall for the obvious trap that is storming the building, my plan is this. Split into three teams. Team A shall leave the city to target the incoming Jack shipment and destroy them all in one fell swoop. Meanwhile, Teams B and C shall target known G-Corp accomplices in Esaka itself. Azucena Ortiz, coffee magnate, and Lucky Chloe, pop star. Both are sponsored by G-Corp in an effort to improve its public image. Targeting them will make it clear that any alliance with G-Corp is a death sentence, and only the diehard loyalists will remain.” Chevalier leaned back in his chair and reached for his wineglass again, waving his other hand in a nonchalant manner. “Then, once Kazuya and his elite are isolated, without friends or reinforcements, we can flush them out and hunt them down. Normally the Heavenly Principles or Four Kings might get involved, but not this time. With your numbers to back up my agents, this should be [i]un jeu d’enfant[/i].” Like taking candy from a baby. Band, unable to seat himself at any wrought-iron table, had stood while listening to Chevalier. This place was awfully classy for the Middle Tier, and in such esteemed and expensively-dressed company, he felt even worse about his shredded hat and trench coat. He found himself unable to object to Chevalier’s plan. Part of him worried about some kind of set-up, of course, since this seemed at least a little too good to be true, but for now the Seekers had no better lead on how to go about their mission of reprisal against G-Corp. It sounded like storming G-Corp’s HQ was about as dangerous and fruitless an endeavor as he worried it’d be, as well. Nobody with a brain would leave their most important assets out in the open where anyone could just walk in off the street and seize them, after all. Of course, this decision rested with everyone else, and not just because he wasn’t Gold Team’s leader. The World Warrior tournament would keep Big Band occupied for the foreseeable future, though he’d be able to join the Seekers’ campaign against G-Corp if he did get eliminated. With that in mind, for now the detective was mostly an observer, and interested in hearing what the others had to say as he further considered the United Nations and their proposal. [center][h3]The Midnight Walk - Scuttled Coalhaven[/h3] [b]Setting:[/b] Snowy Thursday Morning Lvl 9 Sandalphon (63/90) Level 6 Heismay (62/60) Edward’s [@DracoLunaris] Blazermate & Sectonia’s [@Archmage MC] Ace Cadet’s [@Yankee] Roxas & Ganondorf’s [@Double] Ramattra and Tenna’s [@XoXKieroBombXoX] Mokou’s [@Goggy] [b]Word Count:[/b] 1887 [b][url=https://i.imgur.com/p76VSWM.png]Nameless Stagecoach[/url][/b] 𖥞: 6/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | [color=blue]◆[/color]◆◆◆ | [b]Equipment:[/b] Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | [b]Companion[/b]: Ratshaker Rat[/center] The more Heismay saw of the ruined village as the stagecoach rattle through its snowy streets, the more the desolate place intrigued him. From the buildings to the fences to the headstones in the graveyard on the hill, everything in this place seemed warped or twisted, not in a grotesque way, but in a fascinatingly inorganic fashion nonetheless. He couldn’t help but wonder why the builders and craftsmen of this burnt-out town would purposefully give this place such a crooked, haunted aspect, as if each decrepit structure and macabre decoration had been fastidiously fashioned from clay by giant, dextrous hands. His gaze rested longest on the giant metal kiln. Maybe it had blazed tall and proud against the cold winter nights long ago, but now the hollow hulk was every bit as dead and cold as the shallow graves in the cemetery, a solitary and forlorn sentinel over the old and withered memories that filled this place like ghosts. In terms of actual specters, however, Heismay could see none. Only odd, ethereal links wound around that metal furnace, like a coffin chained shut so that its contents would never again see the light of day. Thanks to the persistent low roar of the wind into which the stagecoach pushed onward, Heismay saw the rabbits before he heard them, even through the Highlands’ perennial gloom. Noticing the ordinary rabbits with white winter coats reminded him of Sandalphon’s request to stock up on food supplies, but the sight of the much larger, burlier, humanoid rabbits gave him pause. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that the small ones might in truth be the young of the bunnymen, or at least dear to them in some way. If that was the case, whatever gamey nuggets of meat the Seekers might be able to pry from the rabbits might not be worth the wrath of the tribesmen, and in these conditions even Heismay’s keen senses couldn’t definitively suss out their numbers. When Tenna and his Shadowguys began to weave dry yellow plant fibers into traps, however, Heismay couldn’t help but be impressed with their craftsmanship. Ramattra could only help so much with one arm, but his sharp tactical mind did allow him to place the completed traps in the most effective spots, baited with berries to draw the little creatures in. It was a lot of effort, put forth by inorganic beings who couldn’t even enjoy the fruits of their labor, which struck Heismay as rather touching. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that their efforts wouldn’t be worth it, though he did caution the machines against arousing the wrath of the bunnymen. “If you catch any, make sure those big ones don’t see. They may not take kindly to their brethren’s capture.” To their credit, Tenna’s plan actually seemed to work: by the time the stagecoach left Coalhaven, four wriggling animals were in the trappers’ grasp. It would be hard work to prepare them for the stewpot, but easy enough to snap their little necks and put an end to their unpleasant shrieking. As they went about their business, Heismay’s attention turned to something else. Since he and the others arrived in the Highlands, the dense cloud cover over the region completely masked both stars and sky, day in and day out. Over Coalhaven, however, the eugief observed a curious phenomenon. Stars hung in the frosty air overhead, much lower and smaller than they ought to be. When the stagecoach drew near one, Heismay stood and narrowed his eyes for a closer look. Though it glowed like a lantern, the [url=https://i.imgur.com/wJKFWDM.png]star[/url] appeared to be made of crumpled paper, about as big as he was, and -most interestingly- hung on a string that seemed to extend all the way up to the clouds. After staring for a moment in puzzlement, Heismay reached out his claws to touch it. Then he paused, imagining a baited hook on the end of a celestial fishing line, and sat back down to watch the dangling star pass by. In the stagecoach beneath him, Sandalphon had been focused on more internal affairs. Since leaving the winter lodge she had the vehicle’s interior mostly to herself, and she used the opportunity to make some calls. At this point she’d decided on enough details that she could begin to put stage two of plan into action, which involved phoning some contacts both among the Midgar refugees and aboard the Avenger, the latter of which she called first and spent most of her time on. Very focused on this task, she paused only to assist Edward with his ovis spirits when he came calling, and to make a quick request once they finished. “I would ask that we install the window either in the rear door or in the front, at the driver’s back,” she suggested. “Otherwise, it will not be symmetrical.” The archangel didn’t obsess over symmetry, but all organized minds -human or otherwise- naturally and unwittingly liked it, so why not? While Sandalphon kept to herself, her manner did not suggest confidentially, so if someone managed to surreptitiously listen in they might overhear her going over some sort of specialized machine prototype, including necessary components and capabilities, mostly highly technical details that would be nigh-meaningless to someone not in the know. The voice on the other end of her sigil was male, but high and reedy, with a rather squeaky British accent and a strange, cutesy dialect which made ready enough use of the third person to make identifying the speaker easy. It was Tora, the young Nopon inventor who could typically be found in the Avenger’s Proving Grounds, and despite his selfish tendencies he seemed extremely interested in Sandalphon’s project. After assuring her that he could source enough ‘goddesium’ to meet her demands, Tora bid her farewell and Sandalphon ended the call. In short order, the Seekers bid Coalhaven farewell. The boost pads and jumps ahead of them on the Polar Pass raceway presented a daunting challenge, but Edward prepared the coach and its pullers as best he could. When the expedition finally got underway, the track turned out to be much less of a problem than it seemed. When approached the right way, the boost pads took care of most of the physics themselves, allowing the whole kit and kaboodle to sail through the air and then come down without crashing, crumpling, or tangling. Those parts of the track were exhilarating, but ultimately not that common. For the most part, the road merely wound around the ice-cold pools and icebergs of the Polar Pass, and with no other drivers around to hog the track, Edward could afford to take his time. As it turned out, the environment around the raceway seemed to be a popular spot for a specific type of arctic wildlife: seals. With no polar bears or killer whales in sight to hunt them, and plenty of fish in the water, a variety of seals splashed around in the water or lounged around on the icy riverside, often collecting into big, blubbery piles for warmth. There were energetic [url=https://i.imgur.com/q5uzN26.png]Catapult Seals[/url] with tails strong enough to launch troublemakers several stories high, adorable [url=https://i.imgur.com/RWqXUM7.png]blubberbeast[/url] families, regular old [url=https://i.imgur.com/5rkqzxD.png]gray seals[/url], and of course, perfectly spherical [url=https://i.imgur.com/zW1su7Q.png]spheals[/url]. Unilaterally lazy and friendly, they posed no threat to the Seekers as they drove past, and Heismay enjoyed watching them a great deal. The team’s trip through Polar Pass would not last long, though. After a couple slippery swerves and heart-pounding jumps, they followed the Midnight Walk as it diverged from the raceway. It led through an unremarkable, relatively barren [url=https://i.imgur.com/nhb3axN.jpeg]stretch of land[/url] before bringing the expedition to what looked like a mining facility, overlooking a coniferous valley to the south. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RzqHjnG.png[/img][/center] Like the ruined village and the icy raceway before it, the plant seemed to be long abandoned. Thick blankets of snow coated the ground and the roofs, while huge icicles -several feet long in some cases- hung from the eaves, occasionally blocking doorways. What few mine tracks weren’t buried beneath the snow had long since been warped by exposure to the cold, and it would take great strength to push shrieking, rusty minecarts along them, if they could be moved at all. There was no telling how long it had been since the [url=https://i.imgur.com/CwZ0I1L.jpeg]aerial tramway[/url] had last hauled away material for processing, but thorough Seekers -or ones with a keen sense for minerals- might still be able to find useful minerals or tools left behind by the prospectors and miners of old. Looking at the frozen-over buildings as the stagecoach approached, Heismay got a bad feeling about the place. It would be one thing if the mine had simply become unprofitable and neglected, but the frosty corpse dangling from one of the cranes told another story. The winds that howled through the wood support towers and metal struts quickly took on a sinister timbre. “Let’s watch our backs around here,” he advised the team. “Tis an ill-omened place, and I do not like what I’m hearing.” Though the low light made it hard to tell exactly, the above-ground facility didn’t look too big, so it’d take only a few minutes for the stagecoach to get in and out unless some obstacle barred the way. But there was no telling how far its subterranean portion went, nor what might be lurking in the ice-cold darkness. Any Seekers that did leave the stagecoach behind to prowl around inside the derelict buildings would not go unchallenged for long, for the mine was not quite as abandoned as it looked. In the darkness shuffled hideous frostbitten shapes, no two exactly alike. At some point they had perhaps been people, excessively bundled up as if to resist some ungodly cold, but with slate-blue faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain, icicles growing from their skin, and additional limbs either contorted in desperate attempts to huddle up or reach out for warmth, these things weren’t human anymore. The monsters came clad in [url=https://i.imgur.com/XKk9kB7.png]balaclava[/url], [url=https://i.imgur.com/KkPl2bI.png]earmuffs[/url], [url=https://i.imgur.com/yWWxPep.png]trapper hats[/url], [url=https://i.imgur.com/hcuMsho.png]ski hats[/url], [url=https://i.imgur.com/KPjagL5.png]scarves[/url], and [url=https://i.imgur.com/mc9qBy7.png]beanies[/url], each resistant to all types of physical damage, but vulnerable to fire. If any prospective heroes delved a truly foolish distance into the facility, they might even encounter the monstrous [url=https://i.imgur.com/LAC1JtY.png]Pompom[/url], a hulking amalgamate with impressive strength and freezing power. Only one ray of hope could be found in the whole mine: an isolated camp site set up in the tramway control room, where a frostbitten monster in a [url=https://i.imgur.com/19DC0OO.png]fur coat[/url] might offer explorers a mug of hot cocoa.