Forbidden Kingdom - Yellow Wind Ridge / Esakaâs Pools Tier
Setting: Clear Friday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (292/150) Level 11 Big Band (227/110)
Bowser Jr, Rika & Amaterasuâs
@DracoLunaris Primrose, Therion & Pitâs
@Yankee Sakura & Juriâs
@Zoey Boey Captain Falconâs
@Double Yayamaâs
@Chevaleresse Grimaâs
@GoggyWord Count: 2474 / 1659
Once the linkpearl conversation with the others about interlinks and R tapered off, Nadia returned her focus to her original goal: reaching the top of a pagoda in order to gain a vantage point over the borderland region. The gnarly peahat plants sheâd awakened from their dormancy with a healthy sprinkling of pond water offered what looked like a perfect alternative to climbing the dusty old tower herself, although using them presented its own set of challenges.
For one, this ascent requires a lot of precise mechanical motion on her part. Every time, she needed to pressurize her arm by pumping blood into it, take careful aim, then slacken her muscle fibers as she released the blood in a controlled burst to launch her forearm. Once her claws sank into the root bundle on a peahatâs underside, she then needed to tighten the elastic muscle fibers that connected her disjointed forearm to her body into bungee cords in order to snap to her target. Pressurize, aim, blast, grab, retract, rinse, and repeat for a good dozen floating peahats.
This only got harder when she realized, upon grappling to the first plant, that the lift generated by its whirling leaves could not handle the extra weight instilled in the feral by the downside of her Massachusetts fusion, 2,700 Pounds of Justice. It was easy to forget since she didnât look it at all, but Nadia technically weighed over three hundred and fifty pounds, which was enough to make any peahat she hung from start to sink downward. That gave her only a brief window after each snap in which she could perform the next one. Combined with inconsistent wind and Nadiaâs own impetuous tendencies, and the catgirl ended up either missing her mark or outright falling from the sky seven or eight times, which demanded quick and clever use of her other abilities like Charge to salvage.
Still, it made for an engaging challenge if nothing else, and the minutes positively flew by. Eventually, Nadia finally did reach the top of the pagoda, where she seated herself on the sloped gray shingles with a tired but satisfied sigh to enjoy a well-earned sunbath. It was warm up here, pleasantly peaceful, and the view was excellent. Although Yellow Wind Ridge didnât look like much at first glance, she could see all sorts of nooks, crannies, and creatures that seemed interesting enough to warrant a visit if she had the time. In fact, some of her allies had used their time in the area to do just that, delving into hidden lairs or warming up with a fight against a local menace or two.
The Seekers were here on a mission, though, and a little over half an hour, their communication sigils lit up again. This time, rather than talk to the interception team herself, Sandalphon patched them through directly to Poppi. The artificial bladeâs voice was a little hard to hear over the sound of rushing wind, but her news was important enough that Nadia, Pit, and the others hung on every word.
âAttention, Gold Team friends. This Poppi. Consul convoy just entered canyon airspace, where Sandalphon said you waiting. Poppi and Grimm ready to down target, but Poppi batteries too low to fight too. Once consul out of sky, rest is up to friends on ground.â She paused for a moment as she cranked up her thrusters and began to accelerate toward the flock of airborne reptiles from behind. âBeginning strike. Over and out!â
Suddenly energized, Nadia hopped to her feet and searched the skies. After a moment she pointed toward the northwest, hopping up and down. âOh, oh, I see them! Headinâ this way!â
While most of her teammates couldnât see over the borderland regionâs rocky ridges, Nadiaâs vantage point allowed her to make out a large shape that looked like a big bird with a backpack or something, surrounded by a bunch of smaller birds. As they flew closer, chaos suddenly erupted among the flock. Crimson fireballs began to shoot out from the house on the quetzalâs saddled back, aimed at the pteranodons flying in formation around the giant reptile. Attacked out of the blue by what seemed to be their own boss, the argonian wingmen panicked. Some of them broke off to reach a safe distance, while others turned their crossbows or destruction spells on the mobile home. Only Poppi, closing the distance toward the convoy from behind, could see the truth right now: that a number of newly-summoned Grimmkin had emerged from within the structure to open fire on the unwitting guardsmen, almost impossible to see when in shadow.
Once the wingmen returned fire, of course, the consul relaxedly enjoying his afternoon snack inside reacted with equal parts confusion and fury. âWhat!? Whatâs happening!?â R threw open the front door and ran out onto the patio in time to see a few ice spikes and lightning bolts strike his mobile home. âCease fire, you buffoons! This instant!â At that moment, however, Poppi boosted into view with her saber wrench in one hand and her umbrella lance in the other. She plunged the lance into a riderâs back, then as he writhed, slashed at the pteranodon beneath him to send both spiralling downward, then jetted away to avoid the other argoniansâ wrath.
A creaking board from behind him prompted R to look over his shoulder. In the darkness of the doorway behind him loomed a black bug with a white face and scarlet eyes. Râs slitted eyes narrowed behind his mask. âThis is your doing?â A bejeweled scepter appeared in his hand, aglow with magic. âItâll be the last mistake you ever make!â
Meanwhile the ground team awaited R's convoy to crest the ridge, tense and ready for action. All except their captain, who'd been standing by in the middle of the flat land of the ridge. Clear of the rising stones and surrounded by nothing but sandy earth, it was the perfect take off point; and as soon as he heard Poppi confirm that she and Grimm were moving, he leapt up high into the air himself.
"Everybody in position!" Pit called. If there were any preparations the Seekers hadn't taken, they had better get it done fast.
"We're gonna ground him hard and fast!"A brief prayer later and the angel's wings began to glow with soft blue light, the same that formed the goddess Palutena's sigil-like halo. From there Pit rocketed higher into the air, turning sharply in R's direction once the consul's crew came into sight.
You have no idea how glad I am you got the Power of Flight working long distance, Lady Palutena!I have some idea. It wasn't easy, but now that we've got you airborne... let's really put it to the test!You got it! Let's go!Pit hurtled forward like a comet. The convoy's guard seemed just as unprepared for a frontal assault as they had been from the rear and center, so when the angel blitzed passed a pair of them with his bow-blade flashing there was little else they could do but for beasts and riders to prepare for a collision course with the ground.
He sped up to meet with the artificial blade as she moved to dispatch another guardsman, giving her a grin and brief salute.
"Poppi! Good to see you back in action! Can you handle the small fries while I take down this big lizard?"A stream of lightning from the argonian mage atop the pteranodon slammed into a bright blue bubble shield projected by the artificial bladeâs built-in generator. From the ash cloud hurtled Poppiâs lance, but the guardsman brought up a shield in time to block it. The drill bit on the staffâs end barely penetrated, but when Poppi triggered the magnetic retrieval system, the lance yanked the screaming argonian out of his saddle as the weapon flew back toward her. She gave Pit a nod. âPoppi got this covered!â
That prompted the angel to circle back around toward the quetzal. It wasnât armored, but thanks to its size it boasted a lot of power. If Pit got swatted by its huge wing or beak, such a blow would be hard to recover from. As he studied the target, his gaze inevitably shifted toward the commotion on the front porch of the house on the quetzalâs back. There, Grimm and two of his Grimmkin were facing off against R, but what started as an assassination attempt had become a frenzied fight for the insectâs survival.
Protecting himself with a shield of elemental water that totally shut down the troupe masterâs burn skills, R cast streams of blazing fire and scalding acid from his scepter. One after another, the Grimmkin were swallowed by Râs flame. Grimm warped into the air above R, hung there for a split second, then launched himself downward, shrouded in his cloak like a drill. Its point tore into the watery barrier, strong enough to disperse it, only to plow into an ice spell that left him frozen long enough for R to summon a rock and drop it on him. Crumpled like a squashed bug, Grimm lay on the porch until R picked him up by the throat and began to squeeze. âFilthy insect,â R spat, his eyes narrowing. âTime for you to go
splat!â
Pit did not hesitate. Crashing the quetzal was important, and he had a window of opportunity to do it now while R was distracted - but there was no way he was going to just ignore a fellow Seeker in peril, even one he barely knew. He shot towards R, blade swapped for shields in a brief spark that left golden particles in his wake. With all the force of a battering ram Pit barreled in, one of the Orbitars aimed to crush the arm R held Grimm with while the other sought to daze him with a blow to the head with a dual Shield Smite.
"Let him go!"R proved much lighter than the angel might have expected. The blow sent the diminutive consul flying like heâd been hit like a car, crashing back through the front door of his mobile home. He tumbled through the living room and straight out the back patio, where he stopped upon colliding with the rear flower box. âGyaaaah!â He lay there for a moment, dazed and dangerously close to falling off the quetzal, as Grimm gasped for breath.
Pit alighted next to the troupe master, surprised that his attack had been so effective. That surprise swiftly turned to determination; with the element of surprise on the Seekers' side, maybe this fight would go way more smoothly than they'd thought. And with R already on the edge of his ride, maybe they wouldn't even need to bring the entire dinosaur down - if it flew on, happy to be rid of its master while they took just the man himself to earth, then all the better!
He did not pause to make check on or conversation with Grimm, especially as the angel did not have any sort of healing he could offer, but he did spare the bug a glance and a
"good work, get somewhere safe!" before he sprinted towards R once more. He would make to snatch the Consul and drag him into open sky himself where he could then send the man into free fall.
Knocked off the quetzal, R plummeted downward, screaming bloody murder. After a second or two, though, he reached out with his Moebius power to control a pair of the remaining pteranodons. The reptiles immediately dived down after him, ignoring their riders as they picked up so much speed that the argonians passed out a few seconds later.
With the job far from over, Pit zipped down after them. He pressed a hand to the linkpearl, shouting over the wind to warn the others,
"incoming! R's going down! And he's got some kind of elemental powers!"The pteranodons managed to catch up with R and grabbed onto him to try and stop his fall, but by then heâd plummeted so far and so fast that they could only reduce the consulâs speed until all three slammed into the earth of Yellow Wind Ridge, to the east of the other Seekersâ current position.
Nevertheless, it did not take the heroes long to scramble to the spot where R struck the ground. As Nadiaâs jog slowed to a walk near the crater, Pit touched down nearby, his Power of Flight exhausted for now. All eyes were on the dusty cloud kicked up by the impact as it slowly cleared, revealing R flat on his back between four ashen corpses, still very much alive. He stirred suddenly, wracked by coughing as he tried to pick himself up. His eyes glared up at the Seekers from within his helmet as he stood with the help of his scepter.
âYou thinkâŠyouâve got me cornered, do you? Outnumbered? Outgunned?â R hissed. The purple core in his chest was glowing brightly. âWellâŠits the cornered beast that fights hardest! GRAAAAAARH!â
R let out a roar, and a high-speed pulse of energy emanated from his position. It rapidly expanded across the surrounding area, including all Seekers present. Almost everything in the vicinity began to change, from the nearby plants to the Seekers themselves. Metal weapons turned to wood and stone, clothes and armor became hide and fur, technology regressed to the stone age, and living things returned to their primeval origins. A weird sensation spread across Nadia as her outfit became little more than a fur-lined beast-hide poncho, and sabre teeth extended downward from her upper jaw as her hair and tail became wild and scraggly. âWhuh? Whatâth happeninâ to me!?â Pitâs angel wings became the scaly flaps of a pteranodon and his swords became a simple bow, amongst other changes.
R cackled deviously. âBehold my power, Revert! Iâve turned back the clock, reverting everything to its most primitive, prehistorical form! In other words, Iâve evened the playing field. And nowâŠâ
Purple power surged outward across Râs body from his core, completely dissolving his body. A moment later, a new body took shape from the Moebius energyâa much, much bigger one. After a few seconds, the energy coalesced into a
demonic titan as tall as a tyrannosaurus rex. Holding a magic staff the size of a tree, Moebius R unleashed a deafening roar. âAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Now, the ballâs in MY court!â He leered down at the reverted Seekers of Light. âPuny, would-be assassins! Prepare yourselvesâŠfor extinction!â
vs the Tyrant King, Rage of Dinosaurs, Moebius R
By the time Big Band retraced his steps from Ashwat Village to Esaka, the sun was out and the somber grey clouds that hung above the Forbidden Kingdom that morning were no more than scattered puffs of marshmallowy white against a blue sky. It felt a lot warmer in the sunâs rays, but not warm enough to require the cooling system within Bandâs brass body as he trudged past the Aurumaton gatekeepers and into the Low Tier. His time in the Sandswept Sky, beat like a drum by the desert heat, had revealed just how insufficient and obsolete his onboard life support systems really were. On the whole, that mobile iron lung of his could use a LOT of tune-ups, but for now the Lokjaw upgrades from Lab 8 would have to do. Hopefully they would serve him better in his upcoming match than they had against Potemkin, since now that heâd fallen to Losers, one loss was all itâd take to eliminate the detective from the World Warrior tournament completely.
Thorough consultation of several of the cityâs special bulletin boards allowed him to make his way back up to the Pools tier and to the designated arena where his next fight would take place. As a rule, the stages where Pools matches happened varied a lot in terms of shape, size, material, and quality, but this one actually impressed him with how meager it was. It appeared to be a simple cube, a good fifty feet in length and width, its top surface only a foot or so above the water, composed entirely of standard white pool or bathroom tiles with no other features. No spectators hung around the area, less due to the lack of accommodations than to the unknowns scheduled to compete. At the very least, two of the tierâs wooden walkways formed piers leading to opposite sides, so getting to the arena was easy. Since Band happened to be a little early, he plodded over, lowered himself down atop the tiles, and began to wait.
A few minutes later, his opponent appeared in unceremonious silence, no different in manner from any random spectator until he stepped onto the arena and revealed himself as Bandâs opponent. As he rose, his ascent marked by an unflattering rusty creak from his joints, the detective lifted an eyebrow. In front of him loomed a
masked man in a tan fedora and trench coat much like his own, who stood at an impressive 7â7â--in other words, exactly as tall as Band himself. This man of mystery looked much lighter than the bell-shaped cyborg, but still sturdy, not to mention menacing with his metal face and glowing eyes. Was this fighter even human? At least he fell five inches (and many steroids) short of Bandâs last opponent, but the detective couldnât help but wonder at the strangely consistent pattern of foes heâd been facing, at least since Balrog.
âWell, hello there,â Band greeted his opponent, his voice flat. âSo youâre Q, huh?â
Q said nothing. Whatever he was, he was a man or machine of few words. Band didnât mind getting straight to business, so a taciturn foe suited him just fine. âStrong but silent, I see,â he remarked, planting one foot behind him as he readied himself for combat. âGuess weâll let our fists do the talkinâ.â
ROUND ONE, the Heavenly Principles spelled out.
FIGHT!Both fighters anticipated a rush from the other, but they took different tacts. Q crouched down in a defensive stance, while Band hopped directly upward and extended his clarinet in downward stab in the hopes of counterhitting his opponentâs charge. After landing with a
thud, Band sidled backward slightly, and Q stepped forward only to crouch down again. From the furthest reach possible, the detective unleashed Giant Step. The big drum pedal fell just short of hitting Q overhead, but the unblockable tremor caused by its impact with the ground took Q by surprise and knocked him down. Band took a big step forward as Q picked himself up and poked at his foe twice with the twin trombone slides of Glissando, but the man of mystery stand-blocked patiently.
Still testing his opponent, Band took another step forward to try and grab the other gumshoe with Heavy Toll, but Q seemed to anticipate the throw and jumped away, out of the reach of Bandâs bell halves. Q landed within a few paces of the arenaâs edge, so Band kept up the pressure. So far, it seemed like both fighters favored slower, longer-ranged moves over close-quarters rushdown, making for a methodical match-up. If Q was anything like Band, though, he had a surprise or two up his sleeve, so Band remained cautious. He whiffed his saxophone uppercut, Air Mail Special, and recovered just in time to guard as Q suddenly bulled forward with a
charging slug aimed at his head. Having spaced his special move well, Q turned out to be safe, but rather than attempt a frame trap he simply crouched down again. That gave him all the time in the world to react as Band hopped forward to attempt a jump-in Jelly Roll, which lost to an upward punch that anti-aired him.
With the duel beginning to accelerate, Band jumped again the moment he touched down, undeterred. He met Q in the air, whoâd taken his leave of the ground himself, and to his surprise the Baritone Blast released from his centermost side-cap missed as Q performed an
ungainly somersault stomp that sent Band crashing down. Once he hit the ground, Band teched backward, regained his feet, and brought up his music stand to defend against another, slightly different
slug that probably wouldâve beaned him overhead if heâd been hunkered down. After that Band hopped again, and Q crouched, only for the cyborg to whip out his tremendous
Cymbal Clash to deafen Q with a disjointed overhead unperturbed by any anti-air jab. Finally, Band got to use his Sound Stun to leave his foeâs head ringing and allow him to follow up. He landed, zoomed forward a few paces for a Bass Drop, then unleashed a brief but resounding series of auditory attacks that ended with a classic Take the A-Train into Super Sonic Jazz.
Sent flying backward toward center stage, Q rose with a sizable life deficit but no signs of either fatigue or distress. Instead he halted Bandâs attempt to use Bagpipe Blues with a
swipe that boasted deceptive range, even for him. This he chained into an EX dash punch that did respective damage for a single hit. Upon recovering, Band jumped forward to perform his armored dropkick, 5000lb Slam, only for Q to see through it and parry it by puffing out his chest. That gave the man of mystery free reign to counterattack with a
heavy barrage of swipes, clumsy but powerful.
Letting out a disgruntled grunt, Band pulled backward. He needed to not divert too much of his focus toward analysis, but he could already tell that Q had a solid grasp of fundamentals, with a fighting style that wasnât anything fancy but boasted both offense and defense to spare. As he watched, Q performed some sort of
move that prompted Band to guard, but no attack came out that he could see, which left him puzzled. Was that some kind of taunt? Or, like his Bagpipe Blues, did it confer some sort of advantage? Well, Band had plenty more knowledge checks of his own.
âGimme a hit!â He burst forward with a heavy Brass Knuckle that Q wisely blocked, held back for a moment, then did it again. This time, though, his Lokjaw was wide open, so rather than guard a strike Q got scooped up by the command grab that was Take the A Train. âSlow train rollinâ!â Its piston hammered him twice, then spat him out, and Band followed up with an extended explosive spring punch from his other Lokjaw for good measure. The detonation sent Q sliding dangerously close to the stageâs edge again. Band charged a Lokjaw punch that he sent flying over to try and finish his foe, but Q sidestepped after rising so that the blast would go past him, and with a nod Band pulled his arm back.
This round was almost hisâBand could feel it. Now far away, he went for another Giant Step that forced Q to jump or be knocked down. He leaped closer, remained steadfast as Band plowed forward with a Brass Knuckle cancelled via Emergency Break, then tried to close the distance with his long-range swipe. His gloved hand glanced off of Big Bandâs high hat cymbal as the detective proved that he could parry too. âUh huh.â The Noise Cancel made a low hit from Hot Socks a no-brainer, and the ensuing combo ended with
Timpani Drive âYouâre gonna get beat!â The percussive beatdown proved more than enough to finish the round in Bandâs favor.
ROUND ONE: BIG BAND WINS!Calming his breathing, Band stepped back to let Q rise, then cracked his head from side to side. Q seemed like a good fighter, but it seemed like Big Band could do a lot more, and he was feeling refreshingly good. Only time would tell if the man of mystery rose to the occasion.
Once the Man in the Moon showed his eerie, milk-white face, the hollow planetoidâs interior erupted into chaos. The Seekers scrambled to avoid an onslaught of burst-fire projectiles and black spike waves from every direction, forcing them to pay as much attention to their surroundings as they did to the boss itself. In this fight, speed was life.
Unlike most of her battles, Sandalphon had no safe distance to retreat to nor sniperâs nest she could hole up in to keep track of the team from afar. Since shooting the Man in the Moon in his giant eyes seemed no more effective than pinging his murky, possibly amorphous body, Sandalphon chose to prioritize her own wellbeing over sheer damage output, and to stand ready with her miracles available should her alliesâ collective health fall too low. She did connect her ergo strings to Ramattra to lend him a hand with his own evasive abilities, but other than that and a couple opportune shots from her hexagun, the archangel found herself more than challenged by the task of evasion. As Roxas spread his Tailwind buff among more and more Seekers, though, its speed boost made it much easier to stay one step ahead of the chaos.
Even while obliged to stay on their toes, though, the Seekers were a force to be reckoned with. A fusillade of projectiles, from cannon shots and ignited arrows to divine power and spell bullets, slammed into the Man in the Moon in a non-stop barrage. In no time at all its oil-black body was burning thanks to the various fire and holy attacks headed its way. Although the lunar being did seem to possess a giant health pool, as one might expect of a heavenly body made manifest, it also presented an easy target if its enemies could get clear of its projectile pollution. The added firepower from the Seekersâ various minions, like Edwardâs constructs and Ganondorfâs, made the first few moments of the fight especially painful for the Man in the Moon. Their poor evasive abilities made them easy pickings for the spike waves, though. Within a minute, the minions would all be gone. Except for the heroesâ new cats, who all seemed uniquely well-suited to the task of dodging these projectiles (when not addled by Madness, of course).
Once they became more familiar with the Man in the Moonâs attack patterns, as well as the frequency with which The Dark Itself felt inclined to interfere, the teamâs melee fighters could leap into the fray with Roxasâ Tailwind at their backs. As speedy as ever, Heismay led the charge accompanied by three doppelgangers summoned by his Clone Art. His slashes did low damage, even when quadrupled, but every little bit sped up the rate at which the Man in the Moonâs health ticked down. Roxas, Ganondorf, and Ace (if the hunter opted to swap off his greatbow) hit much harder. Sectonia bade her minions to form a perimeter and help defend Mokou rather than employ her crystalline axe in melee range, but her spells punctuated her teammatesâ efforts. Things seemed to be going well, but nobody was perfect, and the amount of hits taken from the various projectiles would only add up over time.
Heismay decided to pivot, foregoing the Man in the Moonâs body in favor of one of its hands. He darted forward, zigging and zagging to avoid crimson fireballs, then leaped at the giant limb in Assassin form. âHave at you!â His Lurking Nightblade cleaved into the arm like an axe into a tree, leaving a deep gash. The hand looked downward, its firepower diverted from the others, and focused its fire on the Eugief beneath it. Heismay weaved around, sacrificing his clones to briefly stun the hand again and again, as he continued to slash at the arm. After a few more strikes, the limb flinched and began to crumble. The eye in the handâs palm went dark as it fell to the ground with a slam, which Heismay carefully avoided.
A couple seconds later, however, an eye opened on the back of the hand, and it levitated off the ground. Curling two of its four fingers against its palm, it began to float toward the nearest hero. It could no longer shoot projectiles, but it could still deliver a rock-hard wallop or seize a Seeker in its crushing grasp if approached.
Even once their sheer output dwindled a bit upon the destruction of their minions, the Seekers put out a lot of damage, aided by the Malice debuff applied by Blazermate. Just shy of a minute, the accumulated damage led to a loud crack as the Man in the Moonâs mask cracked. A huge fracture now split his face into three sections, and the pain seemed to awaken the beingâs inner rage. His eyes began to glow red, and the pupil a brilliant white, as an angry flush suffused his mask. In response, the many eyes of The Dark Itself began to fly around en masse, and the pace of the Man in the Moonâs projectiles sharply increased. The Seekers were clearly making progress, but things were going to get worse before they got better. All the while the dormant sun continue to drink in Mokouâs heat, glowing brighter and brighter, a blazing furnace. It wouldnât take much longer.