Compared especially to Primrose, Nadia didnât have the same knack for the art of expression, either in terms of cultivating and controlling her own, or reading into those of others. She tended to gloss over conflict, stress, and anxiety with lighthearted cheeriness and corny jokes, but other than that, the catgirl usually wore her heart on her sleeve. Of course, that was easier on some days than others, and today was clearly a difficult day for her. It didnât exactly take someone with Primroseâs social perceptiveness to tell that Nadia was troubled, if not outright guilty. Her new outfit, despite its face-obscuring hood, didnât actually disguise her identity all that well; her fighting style, and tendency to show her face by using her detachable head as a weapon, saw to that. Instead it more seemed to symbolize her desire to hide, to run away from her mistakes -and those who could hold her accountable- so she could try and fix things on her own.
Even if Primrose could more or less tell all this at a glance, though, the onus was on Nadia herself to come clean, to try and dispel doubts while clearing up her good intentions. As scary as it could be, she did intend to take responsibility, at least in her own way. Plus, if she couldnât bring herself to confront the angry faces and accusatory fingers of the Seekers, maybe Primrose could put in a good word for her. Lend her a little much-needed credibility. After all, Nadia never meant for this to happen. It might be a stretch to call what she did an âhonest mistakeâ, but she never wanted anyone to get hurt. That counted for something, right?
Nadia followed Primroseâs questioning glance to Robo-fortune, but didnât dismiss her doppelganger. In truth, she didnât really care what Robo did or didnât know. By her very nature, the two of them were a package deal, stuck together. Hopefully she wasnât making a mistake by putting so much faith in her âevil cloneâ to do the logical thing. âYeah, weâre fine. Making it work.â Was that true? Eh. It was unfortunate that everyone had definitive proof she was alive, since the pathos of returning from the dead could have worked in her favor. In the end though, it was probably better to play things straight. Earn her way back through deeds, not schemes. After all, Nadiaâs grand plan wasnât anything secret or special. She assumed it was the same one harbored by every other competitor in her tournament.
âItâs simple. Weâre gonna win Mortal Kombat and take out Shao Kahn.â Nadia offered the dancer a determined smile, the mark of a supposedly indomitable spirit. âRegardless of what happened, Iâm gonna do what Iâm supposed to. Canât argue with results, right?â The catgirl didnât seem to consider the possibility of failing, however close sheâd come during her match with Maya and Mira. Right now, she couldnât afford to entertain that possibility. She wouldnât even allude to it, as if it were some boogeyman that would manifest if talked about.
Although she hadnât intentionally ditched her original linkpearl, Nadia considered her loss to be a blessing in disguise. It was the perfect excuse for avoiding the other Seekers, and she did not want that to change, even if Primroseâs offer now meant that the feral would be willfully irresponsible. âUhâŠIâm good without a pearl for now. And I wanna stay off the othersâ radar. Need toâŠtsk. Focus. You know.â A harder taskmaster could have easily exploited the openings in Nadiaâs armor, but the catgirl was relieved to have Primrose confronting her rather than anyone else. The dancer was no narc, and she knew the value of discretion. Some space, as Primrose put it, was exactly what Nadia desperately needed. She was beyond thankful for her friendâs leniency, so much so that mere words didnât feel appropriate. After fidgeting for a moment, Nadia stepped forward and embraced her friend in a quick but intense hug. Hopefully that said everything that she couldnât.
A brief moment later Nadia pulled back, untouched by either embarrassment or regret. Still, she sighed, shaking her head. âHah. I donât deserve a friend like you. But Iâll try and make you proud. All of you.â With that in mind, sheâd be fighting for a lot more than an empty title or championship belt. When did the plucky underdog heroine, hungry for redemption, ever lose? Now that she knew someone still had faith in her, Nadia genuinely felt a lot better. She crossed her arms. âIâm tourna-meant for big things, ya know. See ya âround, Rosey?â
With Big Band following along, Leduc eagerly led the way toward home base, steadily navigating counter-clockwise through the Low Tierâs mazelike streets, around its southern area and back toward the east. Remembering that Empty Space ought to be south of Esaka according to the three-dimensional holographic map of the World of Light aboard the Avenger, Band cast his gaze southward a couple times when sufficient gaps happened to open between buildings, but he never saw anything other than mountains. A small range, featuring forested foothills, seemed to stand between the Tiered City and the gargantuan pit that scarred the center of the continent. Band wasnât terribly interested in the area or anything, even though the Seekersâ campaign dictated that theyâd venture there eventually, but he couldnât help but be a little curious. Oh well.
It was more worthwhile for the detective to pay attention to the city streets as he and Leduc went along. Band hadnât been in Esaka for long, only about thirty hours all told, but heâd already begun to really hear the âwhispersâ of the city, steadily giving him a better idea of Esaka and its people. He wasnât on Acucena or Chloeâs case right now, but such accumulated background information served as the crucial frame of reference through which all investigations were conducted, so the more he knew, the better off he'd be when it was his turn to actually figure stuff out. Of course, there was no shortage of detectives on the Gold Teamâs roster, but Band had an old-fashioned work ethic and wanted to show Kim, Harry, and Zenkichi that he could pull his weight, even if his enormous chassis did weigh five thousand pounds.
After about ten minutes, the two cyborgs reached an old warehouse on the southeast edge of town, right up against the wall. Although rather dingy, with plenty of wear and tear, it seemed to be in use processing shipments of goods newly arrived to Esaka. Rather than enter the warehouse, Leduc descended an adjacent flight of stairs to a large cellar door. Though cumbersome and rusty in appearance, the door featured heavy-duty locks and a security terminal sophisticated enough to scan the young manâs eyes before a couple loud clunks signalled that the lockdown had been lifted. When Band followed the boy inside, the passage turned out to be longer than expected, leading even farther downward. He barely fit, often brushing up against the brick walls or the many pipes that protruded from the arched ceiling.
Just when the detective was starting to get incredulous, the two made a turn and the tunnel opened up into a
big underground chamber, comparable in size to the warehouse sitting above it. There were grungy conveyor belts, apparati, pipes, computer desks, screens, and so forth all over the place, making it the very picture of a mad science lab. Compared to Anti-Skullgirl Lab 8, it was much less shadowy, oppressive, and heavy, all copper sheets, green tubes, and bright spotlights instead of steel girders, orange tanks, and pitch-black shadows. Still, the whole place still felt familiar. It was a fitting retreat for the misfit refugees of Lab 8, and as he stomped in, he could see a handful of recognizable faces turn his way.
âYouâre back!â At the sight of Leduc, a
strange girl buzzed over, floating with the help of the Synthetic Parasite wrapped around her arms. Hive had been so fixated on her fellow teen that for a brief moment, she didnât even seem to notice the trench-coated titan behind him, but when she realized just who she was looking at Hive went bug-eyed. âOmigosh. Ben!? You found us!â
Her high-pitched squeaks drew the attention of the others, and in no time flat Big Band found himself swarmed. The primary offenders were the youngsters Leduc referred to as âthe littlesâ, a collection of orphans taken in by Lab 8 to become weapons against the Skullgirl threat that left them without anywhere else to turn. Those who recognized Band were universally delighted to see the gentle giant once more, climbing all over him like hungry kittens. And as always, wherever the littles could be found,
Ileum was nearby. One of the few older ASG experiments, the masked bundle of intestines often played the role of âmomâ, similar to how Band played the role of âdadâ. That wasnât to say that Band and Ileum were close, but the detective was happy to see her again, and despite her mask he could tell that the feeling was mutual.
Of course, there was no mistaking one of the figures who strode over to greet Band with a smile:
Stanley. Even before joining Lab 8, the Dagonian had been outstanding in his field, and his involvement with the ASG program had allowed him to work his magic without regard to budget or ethicsâthere was no cost too great when it came to stopping the Skullgirls, after all. Today, Stanley was just the shark Band wanted to see.
There was one scientist Band didnât recognize, though, who floated toward him at Stanleyâs side. This
masked woman sported a white lab coat, a swoop of green hair, and two large mechanical arms of coiled brass instrumentation not too unlike Bandâs. Thematically, she was a perfect fit here, though even if the others seemed to trust (or at least tolerate) her, something about her made Band a little weary. After he greeted the others, this woman introduced herself as Dr. Coyle, the owner of this lab and the boss around here. Band raised an eyebrow at her claims to leadership, although he supposed that in Dr. Avianâs absence another strong-willed (and morally dubious) individual was necessary to run the freak show that was Lab 8.
Rather than waste time reminiscing or questioning, Band got down to business at the first opportunity. âStanley, my man. When I heard you were here, I came runninâ.â He gave a wry smile as he deployed a small mechanical arm to lift up the dangling tube of his broken respirator. âAs you probably noticed, Iâm in need of a serious tune-up.â
The shark nodded, adjusting his glasses. âMy mindâs already racing. I think Iâve got just the parts for the job. Come on over to the back, weâll get you fixed up in no time.â
As Hive and Leduc went off together to put away the groceries, Band gently dislodged the kids clinging to him and stomped after Stanley to his workshop, aware that Coyle was silently (and eerily) floating after them. âSo whatâve you been up to?â Stanley asked. âYou look like you got mauled by a bear.â
âClose. A tiger. Either a mutant or pumped up on steroids,â Band told him. âIâm fightinâ in the World Warrior tournament, actually. Kinda a long story.â As he considered what to tell his old friends (in light of the persistent presence of Dr. Coyle) something occurred to Band that they really ought to know. Part of him wondered if he shouldnât keep it secret, out of loyalty for someone heâd come to consider a friend, but Band knew the stakes.
He took a deep breath. âI got some bad news. Thereâs a new Skullgirl at large. Last seen in Edinburgh MagicaPolis.â At the deadly word Stanley inhaled sharply as he paused, his eyes making contact with Bandâs. The detective was not joking, however. Even Coyle seemed intensely interested; the ASG refugees had no doubt filled her in about their worldâs greatest threat. âHer nameâs Linkle. Sheâs a tough cookie, fightinâ the Skull Heart as hard as she can, but sheâs already in a bad way. Half skeletal, brimminâ with blue fire and raisinâ the dead wherever she goes. Only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose.â
Stanley swallowed. âThat
is bad news. Catastrophic, even. I donât know if thereâs anything we can do. Even with you back, weâre at a fraction of our former strength. But even if we somehow mobilized every fighter in Esaka, it might still not be enoughâŠâ
âI know, Stan, I know.â Band shook his head. âFirst things first, though. I ainât gonna be doinâ much for anyone if I ainât fightinâ fit.â
Coyle seemed to be smiling. âDonât worry, Detective. Weâll fix you up even better than before. In fact, Iâd be more than willing to throw in a little tech of my own. It sounds like weâll have great need of you in the days to comeâŠâ
Well, that was ominous. But in his current state, Band voiced no objections. He found his way to Stanleyâs sturdiest worktable, and with both doctors in attendance, the operation began.
After glancing back at the Gigas, Azucena put her hands on her hips, her expression one of aloof condescension. âMy coffeeâs success speaks for itself, mister. Maybe all your smoking has killed your taste buds.â She rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly playing to the crowd. âAs for my bodyguards, they havenât interfered once with any of the battles Iâve had so far. This isnât some Low Tier street fight; the Heavenly Principles are making sure the fun and games are fair for everyone.â
The Peruvian martial artist then crossed her arms. âTheyâre mostly for thugs and wannabes trying to steal my spotlight and make a scene for no good reason. If youâre not here for the Coffee Challenge, maybe you wanna make their acquaintance?â Harryâs bad attitude and groundless derision had prompted Azucena to give him an ultimatum: put his money where his mouth was, beat it, or learn a harsh lesson about manners in the High Tier. With all eyes now on the detective, the choice was his to make.
Kimâs initial comment prompted a snort from Eddy. The capoeirista was initially wary of the man who approached him, neither recognizing him nor expecting any kind of casual pleasantry from any of Chloeâs goons, but Kimâs casual manner convinced him to let down his guard somewhat. âWish that I could. But no. Thatâd get me in a whole lot more trouble than itâd be worth, and he knows it. Not gonna let some has-been get his jollies from me.â
When offered a cigarette, however, Eddy raised an eyebrow before waving him off. âFighters donât smoke,â he said pointedly. Since Kim didnât light his own, there was a chance that he was just âwearingâ the cigarette for style points, but it still seemed to make Eddy take him less seriously. What he said made sense, after all; one couldnât engage in such an exertion-heavy sport with the reduced lung capacity and impaired breathing common to smokers. That naturally begged the question: if Kim wasnât a fighter in the city of fighters, he was either someoneâs lackeyâŠor a tourist.
Kim went on to turn the conversation toward Eddyâs least favorite subject: Lucky Chloe. Telling him that he could beat her in a fight only reminded him about the reason he was in this whole mess to begin with, which happened to be losing a fight to her. Still irate, Eddy couldnât help but be suspicious about why one of Chloeâs employees would be trying to fan the flames (or working for âsome diveâ, as he put it, in the first place). Regardless, there was a reason why he couldnât take action against her, one that everyone here ought to be able to guess at if they didnât actually know.
âG-Corpâs got me on a tight leash,â he told Kim flatly. âIf I donât play along with this crap, or if anything happens to her, theyâre gonna make me disappear.â He didnât expect to get a solution, or any pity for that matter. As far as he knew, Chloe only wanted him for her next gig, and if she got bored of him, G-Corp ought to leave him alone, since their only concern seemed to be making their little superstar happy.
Pretty much as soon as the troop of Jack-5s touched down on solid ground, things got chaotic. No strategies had been discussed on how to deal with the robot mob beforehand, but it quickly became obvious what the Seekers and their associates needed to do in order to come out of this clash on top: divide and conquer. On paper, they were outnumbered only about two to one, but if four or five Jack-5s managed to converge on a single target, their iron fists would pummel that target into oblivion without much chance of fighting back, no matter who it might be. Even out here, the rule of hitstun seemed to hold sway, and so did the Jacksâ ability to block, allowing them to reduce almost any attack to chip damage if they could react in time.
After they more or less dealt with Therionâs stunning roar, blocking was the Jack unitsâ primary response to Rika and Juniorâs withering bombardment, and even if a couple got hit, the inconsistent barrage usually resulted in a dropped combo that gave struck robots a chance to recover and start blocking. As a result, while only one Jack-5 got atomized by Peekaâs Lifeform Disintegration Ray, the whole squad got more or less softened up by the kidsâ bullets, bombs, bolts, and blasts. Those in front received substantially more damage than those behind them, while those toward the rear escaped largely unscathed. Still, the cannonade did leave the Jacks either stuck in blockstun or stuck hiding behind those stuck in blockstun, which left them grouped up like sitting ducks for Yayamaâs joyride.
Her Chopper was what really wrecked havoc on the Jacksâ formation, forcing them to scatter or get reduced to scrap metal beneath a grinding wheel that wouldâve put a road rollerâs to shame. The explosive payloads of brutish war machineâs cannons were icing on the cake. Yayamaâs vehicle proved difficult for the melee-oriented robots to hit, especially without getting plowed the next second themselves, and even those who did manage to land a solid punch achieved little thanks to Yayamaâs aetheric shield.
Without too much risk to herself, Yayama managed to destroy four Jack-5s in quick succession thanks to her Chopper, and drive a fifth into the muddy ground where it would be an easy target for anyone who could spare a moment or two to deal with it. However, as she slowed down to make a turn for another crash through the enemyâs thinned ranks, one of the daunting Jack-8 units managed to catch up to her. Rather than just try and hit the Chopper, the black-armored juggernaut grabbed onto the fuselage near the cockpit. Then he attempted to boot her out of the driverâs seat with a leg bigger and heavier than Yayama was, and hijack the Chopper for himself.
As a result of Junior, Rika, and Yayamaâs efforts, only eight Jack-5s remained to challenge everyone else, although two still seemed intent on going after Yayama regardless of how her tangle with her hijacker went. Now regrouped, Anji, Dolores, and Darli moved forward to challenge the others, with Therion waiting in the wings. The thiefâs timely intervention prevented the other Jack-8 from leading the charge, so the UN agents got the first strike against the rank-and-file. Anji covered their approach with a handful of summoned butterflies, which fluttered forward. Whether they hit or got blocked, each would transform into a bird that flapped up to dive down before dissipating. These Shitsu projectiles were handy for locking opponents down and forcing them to guess, and Darli definitely appreciated the chance to cut loose.
Though not as mobile as the machines, the carpenter could deal huge amounts of damage with individual swings of her giant saw. Its savage teeth could tear through the Jack-5sâ artificial skin and the endoskeletons beneath. She scored a quick kill, her quarry reduced to a pile of sparking limbs. Soon after, though, two more Jack-5s ganged up on her and quickly put her on the back foot. Their mobility allowed them to circle around Darli, split her attention, and overwhelm her. Rather than just sit there and block until she keeled over from chip damage, Darli fought back whenever she could, even as the counterhits and bruises mounted.
Of the three, Dolores seemed most adept at fighting multiple enemies. Using her geomancy, she could soften the ground beneath the Jacksâ feet to slow them down, or cause spikes of earth to emerge and either strike or entrap her foes. If a single Jack reached her, her CQC abilities were nothing to scoff at, but if sufficiently pressured she could sink into the earth herself using Altariq to emerge farther away, her spotless skin inexplicably untouched by the mud. With her skills she held off three Jack-5âs at once, even managing to crush one within a miniature landslide.
Meanwhile, Anji focused on the Jack-8 shackled by Therion. His fighting style turned out to be a tricky mix of elegance and strength, making use of moves that could pan out in different ways. His Suigetsu No Hakobi was a twirling flourish that could evade an attack, and his Fujin windblast offered a number of different follow-ups, including a low, an overhead, a jump into downward projectile, and a side-changing hop. He had to be very careful against Jack-8, though. The war machineâs fearsome strength and toughness allowed him to fight like a belligerent brute, blowing through Anjiâs little tricks and punishing his Fujin follow-ups if he recognized the correct response to each. Anji could hold his own, but this Jack-8 demanded all his focus, and he did not go untouched.
The Midnight Walk - Christmas Village
Setting: Wintry Thursday Evening
Lvl 9 Sandalphon (74/90) Level 7 Heismay (10/70)
Edwardâs
@DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectoniaâs
@Archmage MC Ace Cadetâs
@Yankee Roxas & Ganondorfâs
@Double Ramattra and Tennaâs
@XoXKieroBombXoX Mokouâs
@GoggyWord Count: 1542
Nameless Stagecoachđ„: 8/8 | đĄïž: 6/8 |
ââââ |
Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) |
Companion: Ratshaker Rat
When the egotistical Ice King revealed himself, haughtily condemning the festivities and then issuing a threatening proclamation, Sandalphon steeled herself for battle. Her muscles, steadily relaxed by hours of peacefully productive or fun activities, tensed again in a heartbeat as she prepared to take the initiative and organize a defense. A quick scan backed up her visual assessment that the surly sabertoothâs forces were really nothing to write home about, especially given the sheer number of Seekers who had barely engaged in combat today, but the Ice King himself concerned her. He seemed to be responsible for that blizzard barrier, after all, and if he could control -or even summon- a snowstorm of that magnitude, he possessed an alarming amount of power. Even if her team could withstand his withering cryomancy, the odds of the Christmas Village -not to mention its populace- escaping intact were abysmally low. She needed to construct a battle plan, create a diversionâŠ
âŠOr maybe change her perspective.
Sandalphon watched, quietly alarmed, as the unassuming and amicable Professor Layton strolled straight toward the self-professed winter sovereign, a platter of warm food in hand, with plentiful portions of meat. The Chilfos turned their horned heads to observe him, their warning for Layton to watch himself implicit since they did not dare to move without their kingâs command. The Ice King himself did not bristle or raise his hackles, sufficiently intrigued by Laytonâs boldness to entertain his approach until the aromas of pan-seared golden salmon, shucked snow crab, and spit-roasted Gammoth reached his nostrils.
âHmmâŠâ he murmured, licking his lips.
Layton then beseeched him politely, begging his forgiveness. It would have been more proper if the man addressed him as âyour Highnessâ, but the choice offerings greased the wheel, so to speak.
âIndeed,â he replied sharply as Layton admitted his mistake, raising a paw. He unfurled his pinky toe, then extended a shining claw the size of a cutlass. With utmost refinement and delicacy he speared the golden salmon, brought it to his lips, and sampled it.
âOh, hm.â He listened, savoring the fish as the professor extended him an invitation, then tried the Gammoth and found it to his liking as well.
âWellâŠâ he motioned for Layton to set down the plate.
âI suppose itâs a start.âThe Seekers had plenty more in store, though. Next Edward stepped up, offering a precious gift heâd only just received himself, along with praise, in a sophisticated tongue no less.
âA present?â The Ice King stared at the box imperiously, his tone a little derisive.
âHow quaint.â Still delicately eating one item of Laytonâs tribute at a time, he motioned for a Chilfos to deal with the present. The icy lancer marched over, stooped, and unwrapped the gift in order to reveal the picturesque poke puffs, all bright and jubilant colors. They seemed to please the Ice Kingâs discerning eye.
âSweet little treats of some sort?â He tried one, which disappeared like a snowflake on the big catâs tongue.
âPleasing. But rather paltry. Such morsels hardly satisfy. Still, I might as well.â The entire lot disappeared in one gulp.
Next, the illustrious feline turned his eyes to Sectonia. Her size, regal bearing, and plentiful baubles marked her as a noble of some repute, although she did not attempt to address him as an equal. Good for her, knowing her place beneath him! Instead, she summoned a few underlings and bid them to attend the Ice King. They elicited an even stronger response from the Chilfos and Ty-foos, but in light of their lordâs supreme confidence, the winter soldiers stayed their hands. When the Antlers began to pet the Ice King, they evoked a strong, immediate response.
âOohâŠyes! Goodness me. Right thereâŠand there, yes. StrongerâŠnot that strong! Ah. YeeeeesâŠ.â The Ice King stood, then laid down to permit the Antlers -an Ace- better access to his favorite petting areas.
âFinally, some attention fit for a king! Lavish me with your finest pets and scratches, mmmâŠâAs Sandalphon watched the othersâ efforts, she slowly let go of her tension and banished the half-formed battle plans in her mind. Having dealt with mindlessly violent (or irredeemable) foes so often, she had assumed a violent solution would be necessary without considering the possibility of appeasement. Yet the denizens of the Christmas Village had plenty of delicious food and good cheer to spare. And come to think of it, giving the Ice King a warm welcome
was in keeping with the spirit of the holiday.
The archangel suddenly froze as a new, striking thought occurred to her. Was
this the trial of the Christmas ritual? Was the magic of Christmas not a spell to banish a blizzard, but a spirit warm enough to melt the Ice Kingâs frozen heart? There was no way to know for sure, but it made too much sense for her to ignore. If that was the case, she needed to help.
Sandalphon thought quickly. Lying wasnât an angelâs strong suit, but recontextualization was a tacticianâs forte. She stepped forward as Sectoniaâs Antlers continued to pet the Ice King, holding a hand to her heart as she bowed her head. âIf I may, Your Majesty. It was no coincidence that our singing reached you through the frozen storm. From the first to the last, our songs were sung in your honorâthe outcry of many hearts overflowing with admiration for the resplendence of winterâs king.â
âWere they, now?â The Ice King raised a furry eyebrow. He hadnât actually paid attention to the words, so he couldnât be sure one way or the other.
âThey were?â Maeve squeaked, giving Sandalphon a quizzical look. Then her eyebrows shot up. âOh, yes! They were! Uh!â She fluttered forward, clearing her throat. âUm, oh glorious Ice King! On behalf of the Christmas Village, allow me to welcome you toâŠa grand party dedicated to your honor! The King of Christmas!â She gestured toward the blazing fires and laden tables. âPlease, help yourself to whatever you like as you listen to our carols! Everyone is welcome here!â
Try as he might to seem above it all, the Ice King looked rather pleased. âHmmâŠI see. I suppose if youâve gone to all the trouble, it would be a shame if it all goes to waste. Very well!â He gestured dismissively to the Chilfos and Ty-foos, which shrank back into the dwindling snowstorm. He rose and padded forward into the village, swaggering as if he owned the place. âOnward, then. Now that your guest of honor has arrived, and youâre all very honored to have me Iâm sure, let the revelry continue!â
With the situation disarmed, Heismay let out his breath, released his grip on his longsaberâs hilt, and emerged from the shadow heâd sheltered in. Like many of the Seekers he didnât have much to add by way of appeasement, but heâd been ready for a fight in case things went south. Still, if the sheer size of that blizzard was anything to go by, a nonviolent solution was probably best for everybody. Given how pleasant the Seekersâ day here had been (Heismayâs brush with the Dark Itself being the one exception) it wouldâve been a shame to end on a sour note, up to and including the destruction of the Christmas Village itself. After watching the Ice King settle himself down by the fire, where he feasted on Gammoth meat before rolling onto his side for Antler belly rubs, Heismay sauntered over to get another cup of warm cider.
The festival had already been starting to wind down, and with the Ice King commandeering what was left of it, it wasnât long before the Seekersâ elected leader made a judgement call. Her sigil manifested by the ears of everyone in her network as she announced their next plan of action. âAttention, everyone. Now that the way is clear, we should proceed along the Midnight Walk. Today was pleasant, but todayâs progress toward Moon Mountain pales in comparison to yesterdayâs. While the night is still relatively young, and everyone has plenty of energy, we should make what progress we can. Let us pack everything up, say our farewells, and prepare to move out.â
Of course, Sandalphon made this announcement from the stagecoachâs interior, so she was ready to go. Even if it would take a little while for Edward to hitch the Reindrix back up, it paid to be prepared. Now that she was here, a quick inspection of the vegetubes confirmed that the teamâs crops were fully grown. The carrots would be helpful in the coming days, of course, but much more important was the mistletoe. Those spiky sprigs, according to Consul L herself, would prove quintessential to defeating the Highlandsâ Guardian. This was an excellent development; the Seekers were one step closer to finishing their mission.
Footsteps atop the stagecoach heralded Heismayâs arrival. As usual, the sharp-eyed eugief would stand sentinel (or sit sentinel, when possible) atop the Seekersâ wagon, facing the wind as the team pressed forward into the howling dark.
