With a plan in mind, both Fortune and Robo-fortune got practicing. First, Nadia warmed up with a couple of her tried-and-true combos, starting small and then building up. In the heat of battle she had a habit of pulling through when it mattered, but without any adrenaline in her veins or anything on the line, she found herself being a bit more lax. Easy combos more or less executed themselves, but to get real damage, elements like microwalks, tight cancels, and brief pauses came into play, and every link that involved precise timing became an opportunity for her Mokujin training dummy to slip from her grasp and clatter to the floor.
Plus, now that she had her daggers in hand, the feral was a little out of her element. Knifework came relatively easy to her, but the muscle memory built up from countless hours spent fighting with her base skillset would be hard to overcome. Her twin Athames, being fairly long as daggers go, granted her a little extra reach, makeshift projectiles, and much more damaging thrust attacks, but they demanded more precise maneuvering than her claws, so swinging them came less naturally. And if she threw them, which was a more tantalizing prospect than ever after seeing Maya in action, their retrieval was one more thing for her to manage. The âmental stackâ was a well-documented phenomenon in Esaka, and it paid to keep the stack low. Having too many moves and resources was bound to distract and divide a fighterâs focus, making it easier for their opponents to overwhelm them once their own game plans got rolling. The basic strike-throw, high-low, and left-right mixups were plenty to keep track of already, after all! The more Nadia messed up, the more she found herself admitting that practicing like this was a pretty good deal after all. Better to screw up here in the dojo then out there in a match.
Bit by bit, Nadia refined her combos, incorporating more knifework. With how often she used her hands in combat, she found it more comfortable to use a single Athame by default rather than both at once, although she could pull out the second to make the most of certain techniques. She didnât need that much extra range, after all, when she could always extend her limbs a little farther. Wicked slashes and stabs could replace certain claw swipes and punches throughout her moveset without too much effort, and it wasnât that long before the cat burglar hit her stride. For now, it still felt like she was imitating Mayaâs masterful knifework, but if her plan came to fruition sheâd be able to more fully adopt the amazonâs style.
The real challenge came once Nadia and Robo began to work in concert. This involved a totally different kind of teamwork than what sheâd grown accustomed to with the Seekers so far. Usually, they ended up fighting monsters with telegraphed attacks, passing their rancor around like hot potatoes as they took turns dishing out damage. Proper tag-team fighting involved precisely orchestrated timing, like choreography, and when it came to leading this dance Nadia had two left feet. For a while, it seemed like Robo was actively working against her, as her assist calls invariably led to a dropped combo. Nadia resisted the urge to bicker, though, and tried to get a better idea of when her Kameoâs attacks would land and where theyâd leave her target.
Luckily, her doppelgangerâs âdangerâ actions lent themselves to this task pretty well. Roboâs Head Swap Action had next to no range, but it juggled struck targets high, which meant that Nadia could substitute it for her Limber Up launcher or use it to combo into Fiber Upper for a high-flying air combo. Flailing Arm Hazard was better for grounded opponents, its many strikes allowing Nadia to side switch and sandwich her foe before continuing the combo the other way. Finally, Rotating Component Hazard turned out to be a strong combo ender that launched foes away, but if Nadia managed to reach the spot where her opponents would end up, she could catch them out of the air and land a few more hits. No combo could last forever, since the gradual build up of hitstun decay would make it harder and harder to keep Nadiaâs foes captive, but careful use of combo extenders could keep the pain train rolling. And as always, it paid dividends to end strong with a Blockbuster than let a slightly longer combo peter out.
Using all those moves again and again, trying and retrying-each combo as many times as needed, took a great deal of exertion. Eventually, Nadia ran out of gas and sat down on the papery floor, panting. Sheâd ditched her hooded beige coat pretty early on, but even in her leathery black romper she built up a serious sweat. This surprised her even more than it did Robo-fortune; for all her resistance toward practice, and her insistence that such exercises were boring and unnecessary, the training had engaged her enough that sheâd put in a lot of effort. It helped that Robo was a harsh taskmistress, demanding mechanical repetition and exactness. Her deadpan belittlements and corrections were just what the feral had needed to keep on trying out of indignation and spite. âHoohâŠhoohâŠhooh,â Nadia gasped before swallowing to moisten her dry throat. She wiped sweat from her forehead, then leaned back, her hands planted behind her for support. âSoâŠâ She fixed her counterpart with a smug smile. âHowâd you like my swinging?â
Robo just stood there and analyzed the feralâs training data for a moment, quietly generating a consensus. âAdequate,â she reported after a moment. âFor any given standard combo, I predict a ninety-five percent success rate on average. For dagger combos, eighty-five percent. For Kameo combos, seventy percent.â She narrowed her optics. âSixty-five percent, to be safe.â
Nadia blinked at her, her expression somewhat dismayed. âSeriously? All that, and Iâm still missinâ one third of my tag combos?â She scratched at her temple. âThat seems kind ofâŠum, bad.â
âCorrect,â Robo confirmed. âIt would be statistically more optimal to refrain from calling me for combo extension, at least without more practice.â
Dumbfounded, Nadia shook her head in disbelief. âCâmon, after all that, Iâm still not good enough for ya? Judgy bucket of boltsâŠâ With a heavy sigh, she picked herself up off the ground. âWait, so how much do I have to practice to make you happy?â
The automatonâs gaze was pitiless. âEvery day.â
âWHAT!?â Without anybody but the heartless robot around to console her, Nadia decided to give up then and there. âWell, that was great and all, but practicinâ is too much work,â she announced, half-joking, as she collected her daggers and coat. âIf I die, I die.â
Robo seemed about as amused as she normally did, which was to say, not remotely. âThat is certainly the direction youâre heading, if you do not commit yourself to self-improvement.â
âIâd rather commit myself to the funny farm,â Nadia retorted. âAnd youâve got a screw loose or somethinâ with those purr-centages, âcause I was hittinâ those confirms, man. Iâm gonna call you in combo in tournament, and youâre gonna like it.â She strode away, giving Robo a dismissive wave of her hand. Outside, the sun was sinking toward the horizon, and the afternoon would soon turn into evening. âNow scram, tin cans. Iâve got a whole night ahead of me, and youâre not gonna optimize the fun outta it.â
Without moving from her spot, nor offering any kind of farewell, Robo watched the catgirl go. Even after the dojoâs glass doors shut and the lights died down, her unblinking yellow gaze remained fixed on Nadiaâs retreating silhouette.
Shadows were beginning to lengthen across the city of Esaka as Big Band and Ileum reached the World Warrior section of the Pools. By now, the tournamentsâ first day was really winding down, so many arenas were vacant and plenty of spectators had drifted away. Even the yokai had evanesced for the most part, and the few that remained congregated around a handful of relatively high-profile matches. Still, the fights -and the tier itself- all seemed very interesting to Ileum, who gave Band the impression that she hadnât been very involved in Esakaâs tournaments so far. Despite the rather horrific acid and contortion-based abilities sheâd gained from her time at Lab 8, she was not an avid fighter. Band expected that she would fight tooth and claw to defend the lab and her found family if push came to shove, but competition probably interested her a lot less than looking after the little ones. Of course, that made her presence by Bandâs side that much more of a welcome surprise. True to her prediction, not that many of the passers-by the two encountered looked at her askance. The detective supposed that in a place where just about everyone looked strange, nobody did.
Stopping by a bulletin board to learn the name of Bandâs designated stage also had the unavoidable side effect of spoiling who heâd be up against.
Balrog. Heâd heard the name only once, but it had been part of one of yesterdayâs more memorable encounters. He recalled the two blue-clad boxers whoâd been at each othersâ throats in the Middle Tier yesterday, a savage street fight only forestalled by the ultimatum that the two would settle their differences in bracket instead. Band said nothing, but the obvious question lodged in his mind as he moved on: had Balrog and TJ Combo clashed already, or was their showdown yet to come?
A few minutes later, Band reached the spot where his final fight of the day would go down. This stage took the form of a
little island with a small red-and-white striped lighthouse atop it, with a small fishing boat moored just a couple yards away from a dock scarcely large enough to have a picnic on. Unlike most of the Pools tierâs arenas this one seemed to be dirt and grass instead of wood or stone, but it also seemed smaller than average despite the tall structure. And since Band had taken his time getting here, his opponent had already arrived. When he approached,
Balrog turned to look his way, a sneer of recognition spreading across his brutish features. Having apparently not changed outfits since yesterday, he was still wearing that hooded blue coat, its sleeves ripped to show off his huge shoulders and biceps. From his red boxing gloves to his laced black boots the man was decked out in gold, including an impressive belt buckle in the shape of a golden bull.
Band tensed up to leap to the island, only for Ileumâs fingers to clasp his newly-repaired trench coat. âBenâŠâ He looked down at her, but only for a moment, since she began to elongate her intestinal body to bring her head closer to his. He averted his gaze as Ileum pulled back her mask just enough for a quick peck on the cheek. âGood luck.â
Mustering up a smile, Band reconfigured his body as Ileum stepped back in order to rocket over to the island where Balrog waited. Once he landed, the boxer curled his lip at him, then slammed his gloved fists together. âHah, you again!â He punched the air, ending with an uppercut. âReady to get beat, cop?â
Band grunted. âRead as Iâll ever be. âFore we get started, though. You run into that Combo fella yet?â
The ugly grin on Balrogâs face told Band everything before he even uttered a word. âHahaha! Yeah, I did. Knocked that pansy-ass dipshit down to Losers where he belongs!â
Disappointed, Band sighed through his nose. After seeing Balrogâs bad attitude for himself, and hearing about his tendency to fight dirty, heâd been rooting for TJ to teach this thug a lesson or two. Unfortunately, it looked like Balrog had the skills to back up his big talk. âHmph. Guess Iâll have to knock you down a peg too, and make sure Mr. Combo gets his runback.â
In an instant Balrogâs gloating smile turned to a nasty scowl. âWhen Iâm done with you, youâll be eatinâ through a tube, big man!â
ROUND ONE: FIGHT!Like trackstars at a starting pistol, both fighters shot forward, extending a straight lunge punch with strength born of inner fury. Balrogâs red glove met the brass teeth of Bandâs Lokjaw in a bone-jarring impact, its shockwave powerful enough to flatten the grass that surrounded them and draw curious looks from all directions. As the dust settled, Balrog started off with his v-skill KKB, a revolving step forward that ended with Buffalo Swing, a formidable hook punch. Band, whoâd backed off after the clash, blocked the hit only for Balrog to slide a half-step forward and snatch him with his throw, Dirty Bomber.
A strong grip led into a gut punch mighty enough to lift Band just off the ground, followed by an overhead punch that bowled the detective over. Landing on his back with his head toward Balrog, and his feet not too far away from the stageâs edge, Band was forced to right himself quickly and block while crouching to shut down a low slug that wouldâve swept him back down if he stood tall too hastily. A pushblock sent Balrog sliding backward across the grass, causing his follow-up stomp to whiff, and Band rose with a grimace. After just one interaction, he could already see that the rumors about this boxer were well-founded.
Balrog wasnât one to hold back for long. He hunkered down for a brief moment, then plowed forward with another Dash Straight. Band charged a split second longer, during which he had an intriguing realization, before letting fly his own punch. His Brass Knuckle soaked the heavy hit from his foe, then blasted Balrog back as his Lokjaw released an explosive charge. As the boxer tumbled, Band closed the distance with another Brass Knuckle canceled into Emergency Break, then went for a short hop into jump-in Jelly Roll. His whirling tambourine fell just short, however, as his opponent swerved ducked down, then burst upward surrounded in orange energy. âUnstoppable!â His EX Screw Smash uppercut popped Band up like a jack-in-the-box, giving the huge cyborg enough air time that Balrog could tighten his muscles, KKB forward, and then nail Band with a Turn Punch on the way down. âTwo!â
When he tried to apply his own pressure on wakeup, though, Balrog discovered a couple things about his opponent himself, starting with the fact that Band had his own reversal. âBeatâŠâ He shrugged off Balrogâs attempted meaty hit with the armor from his giant tambourine halves, snapping them together around his foeâs burly body. âExtend!â A serious jangling left Balrog jarred enough that when he flopped to the ground, Band could catch him with the kick pedal from Hot Socks, then combo with Bass Drop and uppercut him with Air Mail Special into an air combo. A few soundblasts from his side caps precipitated a hefty 5000lb Slam, the dropkick launching Balrog far enough that he slammed down on the tiny dock on the other side of the little island, now precariously close to the water himself. Band teched forward once he landed on his back, but the elevation change proved to be enough that he couldnât pick Balrog up with a double trombone thrust to continue the combo, so the boxer got to regain his feet.
Immediately Balrog crouched down, his burly arms raised to protect his face as he stared up at his opponent. The more Band saw of his foesâ moves, the more he became convinced that heâd been matched up against someone with a suspiciously similar fighting style. It seemed like Balrog, too, needed to hold his ground for a split second in order to gather strength for massive strikes. Unfortunately for the boxer, todayâs upgrades meant that Band had more of a range advantage than ever. Content to let Balrog charge, the detective did the same, and when he released his punches his Lokjaws sprang forward on their massive coils. âHead hunter!â One after another, each wrecking ball stretched across the distance and hammered Balrogâs guard, then belted out a red-back energy burst.
But Balrog was more patient than Band gave him credit for, and after taking all that chip damage, he bulled forward with an EX Dash Straight. âNo escape!â It crashed into Band just as his Lokjaw retracted to his arm, a split second before he could block. A follow-up smashed him the next second, every bit as brutal as the first, and as Band composed himself his foe walked forward to keep up the pressure.
He tested the waters with a flurry of quick, noncommittal jabs, testing Bandâs blocking abilities as he tried to bait out a reversal. When he went for a throw, his timing was predictable enough that Band was ready. âOh, yeah?â Quickly deploying a couple small mechanical arms, the older man turned away his foeâs gloved grasp, forcing the two apart.
This time Band whipped out his giant
drum pedal to pound the earth, shaking the grassy aisle. Unfortunately, Balrog was one step ahead. âToo slow!â His footwork was light enough that his KKB carried him past the tremor, allowing him to unleash a massive Grand Blow hook punch aimed at Bandâs legs. Once again the detective hit the ground with a grunt, and a bad guess on wakeup gave Balrog the chance to sidle up and throw him again, leaving Band right back where he started at the little islandâs east shore.
He rose to see Balrog charging again, and had an idea. When he slid forward, Balrog whirled around in another KKB to sidestep his Brass Knuckle, only to get snatched by Take the A Train. âSlow train rollinâ!â Bandâs Lokjaw opened wide to gulp Balrog down, holding him inside the cyborgâs giant metal arm while the built-in trombone slide slammed him.
BANG BANGâŠBANG! The third hit dumped Balrog out, but before he could hit the ground, Bandâs Blockbuster stole the show. âSuperâŠSonic!â His
Super-Sonic Jazz hit the boxer like a runaway truck, carrying him across the island and into the light house.
A web of cracks spread across the white plaster as Balrog grunted, the wind driven from his lungs. Rather than slump to the grass, though, he landed on his feet, desperately drawing on the last of his strength. He raised his arm into the air, flexed, and pumped it as red and blue ink swirled around him. âYou wonât hear the full ten-count!â He lunged forward with Gigaton Blow, his mightiest Dash Straight yet. âGO TO HELL!â
His glove clanged off Bandâs cymbal as the detective parried him. âWhatâs that?â As Balrog reeled, Band deployed his
mega-tuba to blast his foe senseless with Overblow. The wall of sound slammed him back into the lighthouse, and this time Balrog stayed down. âWhatâs that, son?â As his tuba retracted, Band held up a little horn to his head like an ear trumpet. âBetter speak up, now, I canât seem to hear ya!â
BIG BAND WINS!As he stepped away, leaving Balrog to collect himself, a smattering of cheers and shouts reached him from a handful of yokai spectators. Some had come to watch the infamous Balrog in action, others just to enjoy the all-out slugfest. Band kept his eyes on Ileum, though, as his fellow ASG agent applauded. As it turned out, âgirls are watchingâ was a serious power-up. With one round under his belt against the braggart boxer and only one to go, Band didnât plan to let Ileum down.
With the Seekersâ and UN agentsâ combined prowess, it wasnât long before the last few Jack-5s were demolished. That just left the superior Jack-8s, and despite their fighting power, the war machines had a fatal disadvantage in the numbers department. Their reach, durability, and brutal strength meant little if they had to try and take on three or more enemy combatants at once. Being grossly outnumbered left them perpetually stuck in hitstun and assailed from more angles at once than they could hope to block, so it was only a matter of time before their opponents broke them down. Therion and Yayama struck the final blows to reduce the Jack-8s to ashy scrap metal, their images glaring balefully from the spirits that lay amongst the wreckage.
âWhoo!â Darli cheered as she shouldered her saw, then wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. âThat was a slaughter!â
âInsofar as any of these things were alive,â Dolores added, pushing up her glasses. If sheâd been troubled by the Jack-5s that attacked her, the elegant lady gave no sign.
Anji fanned himself lightly as he sauntered over to regroup with the others. âWell done, everyone. Your fighting skills are very impressive.â He casually peered around at the heaps of ash and robotic parts than now littered the churned-up clearing. âThatâs one mission complete. Without these reinforcements, G-Corp will be substantially weaker. Shall we return to Esaka?â
Holding a hand to her chin, Darli considered the suggestion as she took in the surrounding bamboo forest. Without a battle to occupy her attention, she could really appreciate the areaâs natural beauty. âI dunno. Itâs real pretty here, and we never get a chance to travel outside the city. Couldnât hurt to fart around for a bit, huh?â The combative carpenter grinned. âI kinda wanna chop down some bamboo and see if itâs any good for makinâ stuff.â
âThe forest certainly has its charms,â Anji admitted. âAnd who am I to refuse a ladyâs request?â He raised an eyebrow at the Seekers. âOf course, since we took different vehicles youâre not beholden to our whims. Feel free to come and go as you like. Iâm sure we wouldnât mind the company, though.â
Dolores crossed her arms. âIf there truly are legendary yokai in this forest as they say, we wouldnât go wrong with the extra strength. Though, perhaps itâs just a legend among the pandaren.â
With nothing else to do for now, the Seekers could deliberate on where to go next. Retracing their steps northward would, of course, eventually return them to the Fields of Gold and to Esaka. If they proceeded south the way the APC came from, they could theoretically reach the Tangled Shore it came from, a highly technological area very unlike the Forbidden Kingdom. To the east, the bamboo forest thinned somewhat as
the terrain became more mountainous, with all kinds of hidden secrets possible among its rocky spires, winding gorges, and reed-choked rivers. To the west, the forest seemed more ominous, the
bamboo thick and tall enough that misty shadows obscured the land ahead, though traces of Buddhist statues and shrines suggested the presence of some kind of temple deeper in.
The Midnight Walk - Alpine Climb
Setting: Snowy Thursday Evening
Lvl 9 Sandalphon (92/90) Level 7 Heismay (32/70)
Edwardâs
@DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectoniaâs
@Archmage MC Ace Cadetâs
@Yankee Roxas & Ganondorfâs
@Double Ramattra and Tennaâs
@XoXKieroBombXoX Mokouâs
@GoggyWord Count: 3437
Nameless Stagecoachđ„: 8/8 | đĄïž: 6/8 |
ââââ |
Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/Icebox |
Companion: Ratshaker Rat
Considering the way ahead, it was clear what one group had to do.
âMan, sometimes they just have to make it obvious huh?â Blazermate said, looking at the cliff they had to scale to the next spot.
âAnd it has to be cold. Of course it isâŠâ Sectonia said, looking at the cliff face and how annoying it would be to deal with.
âI suppose we will have to take someone with us. Any volunteersâŠ?ââOh, before that⊠Gotta free Layton!â Blazermate said, turning on the detective by first banishing Sectonia to get her illusions, something that woke her up from her stupor once she got out of it, and using said illusions and her own punches, held and worked down Layton with her own damage increasing debuffs, illusions and attacks to get him in range to friend heart him, then doing so.
The man had been surveying the cliff with the rest of them, quietly ruminating about the answer heâd been given about the Seekers. Even though he still had suspicions, Layton figured them to be kind enough people, and so was almost entirely blindsided by Blazermateâs onslaught. The Professor was floored, literally, near prone on the ground held up only on one elbow in the aftermath. He tried to keep a rising panic at bay; there must have been
some reason for an attack that didnât incapacitate him.
If anything he was more free than before.
âSorry about that, just gotta break ya free of the big badâs control. Ok, so⊠Sandalphon can explain things while weâre down here, or well, whatever seeker you go with. If you want a more detailed explanation, Sectonia seems to give them a lot.â Blazermate said, apologizing to Layton and briefly explaining things.
Sectonia went on her little spiel about spirits and all that, giving him the lowdown on what was going on and all that, and of course.
âAnd if you follow my royal court, I can promise you power without the cost of losing your looks and charm.ââ........Yes,â Layton eventually said, picking himself up off the ground.
âThat was indeed a very⊠thorough explanation.â In the face of all this new, pressing information, Layton was in enough control of his faculties to doff his hat to Sectonia, even if his eyes werenât entirely focused on her. And then, as he began to walk away from the group, he quietly said,
âIf youâll excuse me.ââNow like I was saying, any volunteers?âSheltered from the intermittent, brutally cold wind gusts by the stagecoach itself, Heismay watched in mild alarm as Blazermate decided to free the Seekersâ newest tagalong, Professor Layton, then and there. To call it a ârude awakeningâ was to make an understatement; it was basically an ambush, the injury Blazermate inflicted only offset by the restoration of the Friend Heart she planted on him afterward. The poor man stood no chance, and now in addition to dealing with the daunting obstacle ahead, he needed to come to terms with the nature of his existence in the World of Light. Anyone would be disoriented. In a state like that, Sectoniaâs rote explanation about spirits probably rolled off his overloaded brain like water off a duckâs back. Heismay couldnât help but feel bad for him, but even if it hurt, at least the bandage had been ripped off.
In all honesty Professor Layton was already bouncing back from it. Heâs no stranger to the fantastical after all. The scope of this world he found himself in, though⊠that was something that threatened to overwhelm him. So he chose to remain by the stagecoach as others plotted their way up the cliff, giving himself the time needed to let things sink in.
That wouldnât take too long. It wasnât the first time he found himself socializing with robots, awakening in a magical realm, or dealing with world-threatening consequences, of course. Laytonâs rational side, the part of him that always played the skeptic to myths and folklore and unexplainable phenomena, was puzzling everything out as if it were a fiction still. Something that could be
explained. To what end, he couldnât say.
But heâd be foolish to act like none of it was real. Even in the event there was a trick being played on his mind - maybe everyoneâs - this was a dangerous world.
In the middle of his thoughts Layton thought back to the days before now, a smile breaking through his serious look.
âGiant fleas⊠remarkable.âAfter a moment, Heismay returned his attention to the cliff. Its uneven surface, with plenty of protruding outcrops, looked like it wouldnât be extremely hard for him to climb. He couldnât scale sheer surfaces, but he could jump quite high and glide long distances. The real challenge would be the winds. Now that heâd felt just one, which chilled him to the bone and nearly bowled him over, he knew that heâd have to take shelter whenever another gust kicked up. Even with his thick parka, ten seconds would probably be enough to cause serious damage to his circulatory system. Plus, if the wind caught him while he was on the wing, he could easily be dashed against the rocks or flung too far away from the cliff to recover. Better to keep gliding to a minimum.
Of course, Sectoniaâs offer provided a convenient way around all this challenge, provided that the big bug was a strong enough flier to not get tossed around by the wind herself. Heismay was certainly light enough to not cause her much hassle. With that in mind, he decided heâd volunteer to make the flight team a full party of four. âI shouldnât be much of a burden, and would be happy to assist in scouting ahead.â
Mokou herself walked up to the group as they were looking up at the cliffside, rubbing the back of her head after having changed back into her normal attire. Where she had found the time and privacy to do so was a mystery, but she didnât look like she cared much, âWell, I certainly wonât decline an extra hand. Iâm not going to be carrying you, howeverâ she commented, rolling her shoulders at the same moment, âIâm gonna start heading up though. Catch yâall at the topâ with that, the phoenix began to float upwards, her hands in her pockets once more as she ascended without a care for the windchill.
As the Seekersâ aerial aces flew higher and higher, Heismay kept a firm grip on Sectoniaâs shoulders. Just as he expected, the icy gales were a formidable adversary. They buffeted the fliers and pushed them around, seriously limiting visibility. In order to keep his carrier from slamming straight into hidden outcrops, the perceptive eugief pushed his eyes to the limit, barking precautions above the roaring wind. Worse still, ice steadily spread across the party membersâ bodies the longer they remained out of shelter, slowed down by Mokouâs pyrokinesis but never stopped or reversed. Still, while the cold worked fast, the Seekers were faster, and they were no fools. Within a couple minutes they finally crested the top of the cliff.
In front of the four loomed the ominous cathedral. Its forbidding ramparts and pointy spires were pitch-black, darker even than the night sky, as if carved from pure obsidian, or perhaps the darkness itself. Only icy blue reflections caught the ambient moonlight filtering through the clouds, giving shape and definition to the nebulous structure through their outlines and contours. Spikes protruded from the torn-up earth around it at odd angles, some floating in the air, and shadowy, suspiciously organic masses like spider webs stretched between the spars.
Heismay hopped down from Sectonia, his boots crunching in the snow. He didnât see any enemies yet, but he didnât need to in order to draw his longsaber. Theyâd be here. The hermit had a very bad feeling about this.
From the yawning, stygian maw of Oblivionâs Ingress, loathsome things emerged to welcome the travelers to the dark gateway. First, side by side, floated
twin Evangelists. Clad in dark armor and vestments, adorned with skull-like masks and iron crowns, their upper halves that wielded twin flat-tipped executionersâ blades could be mistaken for human, but the skirts of sinuous webbed tentacles that hung from their torsos could not be. Behind them shuffled an even more abhorrent cultist, the
Herald, its body bloated into a large, heart-like organ with an upside-down mask dangling from the front, fed by a lung like a bagpipeâs pouch into which its hands were fused. Finally, a grotesque
Altar slithered forth, little more than a giant octopus covered with bulbous black eyes, twisted horns, and a cloth upon which ghostlight candles burned. As the four approached, giant tentacles reached out from the abyssal nothingness behind them and coiled around the threshold, as if something terrible were trying to drag itself out into the World of Light. A horrid, otherworldly groan filled the night air, and a wave of nauseating anxiety washed over all four Seekers as they were afflicted with 1 Stress.
Heismay gritted his teeth, steeling himself against the mental attack. Both evangelists crossed their blades as pure light erupted from the holes in their masks. Their Nocturn Communion empowered each with Crit and Block tokens, each guaranteeing that its next attack would crit and its next hit taken would be reduced by 75%.
âOooh, these ones are a bit far from the seaâ Mokou commented as the cultists emerged, her hand rising into the air as her signature feathers quickly formed, âLetâs see what theyâre made ofâ she added, brushing off the mental assault before launching the first wave of her projectiles, pelting the opposition before the rest of the team moved in.
âWhatever they are, theyâre horrible. â Sectonia said, buffing her allies with Haste before throwing a horizontal column of swords and a large ring of light at the problems before her. Blazermate meanwhile went into medic mode, using Sectoniaâs bulk as cover as she healed and overhealed everyone as she could.
As projectile spells rained down upon the cultists, the Herald inhaled deeply, inflating its lung. Then it squeezed to unleash First Trumpet. Its pipes belted out a hideous cacophony of discordant notes layered atop one another, dealing minor damage to the furthest Seekers from the fight, those being Mokou and Blazermate. Their bodies recoiled from the ungodly noise, ripping open and catching fire to inflict painful Bleed and Burn.
Galvanized into action by the awful noise, Heismay took action. His first thought was to use Gunner to inflict Sleep Shot, but if both Mokou and Sectonia favored wide-range bombardments, any sedated target would be awoken immediately. Instead, he decided to take the direct approach. His foes were fearsome, but Blazermateâs presence emboldened him. âO, power of kings!â He assumed his Assassin archetype as he sprinted forward, his approach covered by Mokouâs blazing artillery. His katana cleaved through the snowfall with Lurking Nightblade to strike one Evangelist with a slash of darkness. The accuracy/evasion debuff would be helpful in the coming melee.
Mokou grimaced at the sound of the noise, but mostly due to the unflattering noise rather than the wounds it inflicted. It hurt, but Mokou was used to the hurt. Nevertheless, she ceased her rain of projectiles, instead being wreathed in flames before rocketing forth, smashing into the Herald with an explosion. She didnât know if it was better in melee than range, but Mokou knew that she could inflict enough damage fast enough to make melee combat a trivial task even if it was.
When the living missile blew up in its masked face, the Herald reeled, its warped form charred and smoldering. While it struggled, though, the Altar in the back took action. Its eldritch Flesh Weaving pieced the Heraldâs wounds back together, the burst of healing strong enough to undo all the damage inflicted so far. The unholy hex also imbued it with one Block token.
Now in the thick of things, Mokou quickly found herself turned upon by one of the Evangelists. The sword-wielding cultist whirled forward and lashed out with Blood Commune, an outward double slash. Its spring was sudden and fast enough to catch the phoenix in the back with a Crit, opening fresh wounds to intensify her Bleed and inflicting a second point of Stress.
At the same time, the other Evangelist -the one targeted by Heismay- used Blood Bond, a whirling slice that wouldâve struck both Heismay and Mokou if not for the accuracy debuff. Back in his normal form, the eugief managed to slip past the attack and land a deft double slash in return.
Seeing the powered up Evangelist, Blazermate hit it with a Disruption to give Mokou some breathing room and allow Blazermate to heal her up a bit. Sectonia meanwhile summoned some Red Antlers to keep the tentacles at bay with their flamethrowers. Otherwise all she did at the moment was keep up the ring of light attacks, her various buffs and abilities making them a bit difficult to dodge. As the Evangelist that was banished came back, two illusions, also buffed with its worshipped power, appeared with it and began to attack him. Although being in front of everyone wasnât the best for Sectoniaâs health, but Blazermateâs healing and her own occasional healing from her death pulse were doing well keeping her up and active. And with the various tools she had picked up over her time here, she was letting off skulls of fire, zaps of lightning, and explosions of glitter as she got constantly healed.
The Banish dealt respectable damage to the debuffed Evangelist even if initially blunted by Block, but once the assault died down, the Altarâs performed Flesh Weaving once more to restore a substantial amount of health to the wounded cultist. By now Mokouâs melee onslaught had undone the previous healing received by the Herald, but her target had more nasty surprises in store. Breathing deep, it let out a resounding, wretched Clarion Call. The guttural, otherworldly horns, meant for Sectonia, dealt no damage but stripped two of her buffs, inflicted two points of Stress to bring her to a total of three.
At that point, the Evangelist targeting Mokou specifically took center stage. Thanks to the Altar, its broken body stitched itself almost completely back together, making it clear that as long as the wretched cephalopod remained, the cultists would have substantial staying power. Enough to withstand unfocused projectile inundation, at least.
The nightmarish lightshow made Heismay realize that the debuffed Evangelist could be healed at any moment, so he needed to act now, while the damage dealt by Sectonia and Blazermate was still there. âTake this!â He leaped forward, becoming his Assassin archetype, and dealt the cultist a heavy slash across its chest. Unfortunately, it would take more than that to put it down.
Seeing Heismay try a large attack, Sectonia followed up with her Reaperâs Scythe to finish it off. As the attack gathered all the ambient death in the air, a spectre of the grim reaper wooshed forward and slashed the Evangelist, paralyzing him in fear as it approached dealing damage based on how much health it was missing. Seeing this attack, Blazermate put Disseminate on the Evangelist to cause whatever damage Reaperâs scythe did to clone to every enemy around it at 25% effectiveness. As the Evangelist was weakened previously, this was enough damage to put it down into the ground.
Blazermate meanwhile sent forward her striker Armstrong to break the enemy defense with his mighty bulk and explosive punch. Perhaps even disorienting them for others to do something with.
Mokou had been staggered from the Evangelistâs attack, a bloody scar running across her back and staining her white hair with red. Once it had returned to the field and been healed, the phoenixâs head slowly turned around, a dangerous glint in her eyes as fire rapidly formed into her open hand, âNice hit. Let me show you what a real one looks likeâ she stated moments before she whirled around and leapt forward. The Evangelist was ready to strike her, but the sudden speed with her attack caught them off guard and allowed Mokou to grab its face directly, not wasting a second before her body erupted into white light, a column of flame engulfing both the Evangelist and Mokou herself. The pillar remained for a few moments, scorching the ground around them before eventually dispersing, the smoke revealing the Evangelist barely capable of standing and scorched black while Mokou herself was completely gone⊠Although it didnât take long for scattered embers to start gathering in a spot nearby, heralding her next revival.
As the Evangelist reeled on deathâs door, the Altar -still very much alive despite the ambient AoE damage thanks to its lack of focus- gave it a much-needed boost with Flesh Weaving. It then did what the Seekers hadnât so far: target the healer. Eldritch lightning surrounded its blades as it blitzed upward, a shadowy trail left in its wake, to strike Blazermate with Rush Judgement. At the same time, the Herald performed its most vile ritual yet: Inversion. In one fell swoop, all the debuffs applied to its whole team were transferred to it, then converted into equivalent buffs, granting it heightened evasion, accuracy, and defense.
Enough was enough. Even if the Altar wasnât very threatening, it couldnât be allowed to continue undoing everyoneâs progress. Heismay turned toward the verminous thing. and transformed, reaching deeper into his limited magla pool yet again. âGunner!â He took aim with his shoulder cannon and let fly his Poison Shot to blight the beast. Then he reverted and charged it, his saber at the ready. âThis ends here!â
Mokouâs body quickly reformed, the embers gathering into an orange outline before she seemed to practically pop back into existence. The phoenix didnât even look at the Altar, simply taking out the ball of ice and fire that she had gotten as a âChristmas giftâ, tossing it into the air above her and then initiating a swift frontflip, the back of her foot slamming into the Frozen Flame like a soccer ball, sending it flying towards the Evangelist that she had failed to kill the first time, a wave of feathers following the path of her attack. The frozen flame slammed into the cultistâs iron mask and froze it halfway bent over backward, perfectly primed for her pyrokinetic flechettes to riddle its body and bring it back down to low health.
Seeing the Evangelist charge her with what looked like a fairly hard hitting attack, Blazermate raised her hand to the sky and summoned a holy dome of energy around her, giving herself and any close by allies immunity to damage for a couple seconds while she channeled it. Hopefully this would not only give her allies some time to peel this thing off of her, but also let her recharge a few of her other abilities or even stop its attack cold in its tracks.
Sectonia meanwhile, as Mokou was finishing off the Evangelist, Sectonia attacked the Herald. Sheâd fire her own holy laser, blasting three radial fans of lasers from herself trying to direct one onto the Altar itself.
The Heraldâs converted buffs made it a stubborn foe to take down, even for a caster of Sectoniaâs caliber, but Heismay saw the opportunity to put the monstrosity down before the Altar could heal it again. He transformed and cast Mudo, adding a blot of darkness to the bug queenâs radiant light, though the latter certainly did most of the work. When the lightshow died down, the Herald had been scoured from the face of the earth.
That left just the Altar, which began to shake violently as it rose into the air. With no cultist compatriots left to support, the abominable healer swelled and exploded into viscous black mist as it met an Azoic End, bathing the minds of the Seekers with an additional 3 Stress to bring Sectonia to 6, Mokou to 5, and the others to 4.
The heroes had only a second or two to collect themselves, however. The howling darkness had more in store for them.
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