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Level: 6 (56 -> 57/60)
Location: Limsa Lominscuttle Town - Sky’s Hatchery
Word Count: 491 (+1 EXP)


Hat Kid’s assessment turned out to be half correct; there were indeed things that could fly (or at least looked like they could) at the top. What she expected to find, however, was more of an airdock akin to the naval yard of the Bulwark Hall rather than a place of business sporting air vehicles of the more… alive variety. Being a storefront instead of a base, presumably accessible by anyone regardless of ability, made her roundabout method to get there moot. Furthermore, she could forget about casing the joint as she had originally intended in accordance with her prior expectations, as the establishment’s owner immediately noticed her upon arrival and welcomed her to browse their selection, which was probably the better alternative to what she had hoped for. Either way, it would ultimately fulfill the same purpose: to get her over the water.

Among the options presented, only half of them looked like they could reasonably support her for any respectable amount of time, and one of which she would rather not bother with at all. While she was partial to birds, despite her mixed history with them (and perhaps because of it), she wasn’t liking the way the crow demon looked, or looked at her, locking a knowing gaze on the child. The crows she dealt with in the past were shady enough on their own, but were otherwise harmless in spite of that. THIS crow was harmful by its downright nightmarish appearance alone. Was it even acceptable to have it on display for the eyes of the general public? Probably, considering children and families weren’t likely in the market for aerial mounts or a living, breathing, actual scarecrow anyway, so there was unlikely to be any business lost there.

The child shrank back nervously from the Crow with a look of equal parts disgust and worry that resettled as she continued looking over the rest of the available stock. Half of them didn’t appear capable of supporting her for any respectable distance or duration, and of the two she was partial to--the giant parrot and the Carbuncle--she wasn’t entirely sure that the latter was actually airworthy. Worse still, would either of them survive, or even manage the trip she had in mind? Perhaps the shop’s curator had something ‘off-shelf’ that would suit her better; something that wasn’t on open display. With that in mind Hat Kid inquired as much in her ‘silent’ explanation, indicating both of her planned headings--Inkwell Isle and the Bottomless Sea--by gesture...

...Then, she remembered she had a balance of exactly zero of any acceptable currency on her person. That was what she got for dealing fairly with career criminals. Her lack of funds was a matter she saw fit to leave out until the matter of compensation came up. At which point, of course, she would have to figure something out, but she wanted to see if Sky had anything worth her while first.


Level: 5 (4 -> 6/50)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Lakeside
Word Count: 836 (+2 EXP)


For a first, their attempt at swaying diplomacy appeared to be going surprisingly smoothly. Where Fox had expected some level of apprehension or resistance to their proposal, they were instead met with a gradually building line-up of eager new recruits, most of which were moved by seamingly little more than the desire and opportunity to make a greater contribution, their motives as of yet unspoken (save for Heavy). Just as a handful of willing crusaders-to-be were stepping forward to answer the call to action, the voice of displeased authority came over the loudspeaker to sour the whole negotiation. Fox’s almost visible satisfaction was quickly replaced with an alert response as his attention shot to the nearest source of the voice barking commands urgently calling for the trio’s termination. He might have guessed that someone was behind the looping turf war between those unwittingly gathered in the conspicuously symmetrical battleground they’d been calling home for an untold time, and silently cursed for being right.

Just like that, hopeful converts backed off against their better interest, motivated backwards by flash-bred skepticism. The Soldier did the honors (unintentionally) bringing to light a programmed facsimile of contrarian rationale; something about a ‘briefcase’ apparently containing sensitive intelligence that the crusader trio obviously knew nothing of, let alone would they care to steal it. Had that been the case, Fox couldn’t imagine why they would need to ‘distract’ or even bother engaging with them at all if they already weren’t paying attention to this thing they suddenly so valued enough to fight over but not enough to keep safely on their person. No, this wasn’t a healthy skepticism at work. This was the talk and action of one reaching for an excuse to repel outside influence in accordance with the brainwashing of their faceless masters; one they knew of, one they had yet to discover.

Yet, in spite of this attempt to engender an irreconcilable divide between all parties present, reasonable doubt and insubordination persisted among a few of the mercenaries. However, all it took was one voice in her favor calling ‘treachery’ to instigate conflict among them. Alas, where her attempts at militant sophistry failed to dissuade her subjects from defecting, she was able to leverage afforded privileges of conditional immortality over them to fan the flames of continued in-fighting, now with a more adversarial touch. The terms were set, the teams assembling, and the countdown initiated.

“Move!” Fox commanded Poppi and the Queen, as in ‘away’ to find the farthest cover they could reach before the countdown was up. It was clear that reason would serve them no further here, so it was time for them to fall back and improvise. Fox rapidly devised a course of action for the three of them and issued their parts in it as soon as they were out of sight. “Sectonia, alert the others, tell Midna we need cover. Get a sandstorm going. Poppi, find that case--OR her--then me,” he ordered, referring to the aforementioned briefcase and the Administrator, which they would likely find in the same place. “Wait for our cover to move,” he further clarified, expecting her to take his meaning through context.

He reasoned internally that Poppi could better move through the battlefield at speed unseen with her comparably lower profile, while Sectonia wouldn’t have to stress the same on a round trip to and from Naboris, and being the more eloquent of the two, she could better relay the call for backup. Furthermore, his sudden interest in the briefcase had more to do with the Administrator herself and her apparent knowledge of Spirits, which by itself made her a considerable enough threat to not want to send Poppi after her alone; just to find her first. Should she happen to return with a case of precious intel however, there was a chance they might actually be able to learn something useful from it.

As for Fox, he decided that the best and only thing they could do now was play their game, but he had no intention of playing it their, or rather her way, or by her rules. He would not honor the conventions of a dishonorable engagement. He preferred this time to disrupt the established order of controlled chaos, and she just gave him the perfect excuse to try. His idea was to start with the one player she couldn’t have managed this without, her compulsory lapdog, the Soldier, and go from there.

Fox and his team were neither RED nor BLU; they were one. Though, for the purpose of the scenario at play, they were still Yellow Team and would remain to be. Though outnumbered on both sides, with no respawns, they were short no advantages of their own with every plan to make use of them. Their hard-earned success here would mark YLW’s first victory in the last battle that would be fought on these grounds. Heeding his own directive to Poppi, he would await the obscuration of the battlefield by Midna through Naboris to mobilize.


Level: 5 (2 -> 4/50)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Lakeside
Word Count: 1072 (+2 EXP)


In no time at all, the volunteer scouting trio arrived at the compound just moments after leaving for it. Fox had little trouble keeping pace with the two fliers of their company, being naturally fleet-footed as he was, and perfectly capable of facilitating his own landing from the low skydive off of Naboris with a guided, curved thrust to drift him down and forward. With a couple of leading steps, he bounded over the fence after his compatriots in a full twist layout and continued making his way in unimpeded.

It was oddly quiet and empty within, absent of any dead, dying, or battle to see to either. Of course, they knew the conflict had ceased prior to their departure, but even still there were no signs of an expected aftermath to be found. After a moment or two, they discovered what was happening instead, which only raised more questions, such as ‘why’. Fox was puzzled by their findings; that the two opposing sides seemed to be gathered together, casually socializing following their no doubt deadly territorial standoff (and perhaps preceding another). Seeing as they weren’t actively posing a threat, Poppi took the initiative to approach and make first contact, effectively compromising their anonymity, and since there was now no point in trying to maintain it, Fox left cover to follow suit.

He kept sharp eyes out for anyone among the mercenary assemblage that looked ready to use their weapons, still ready to act as they made their approach and introductions from Poppi. Her attempt at a warm welcome and succinct explanation of their purpose there was met largely with rhetorical questionnaire or overall dismissal, and while Fox didn’t feel the need to directly answer the Soldier’s question, his answer was ‘yes’. Him and his lot (whoever they are at any given time) did indeed have a habit of showing up unannounced to intervene in ongoing conflicts; that was exactly the type of thing he would do. Though, he wouldn’t have called what they had stepped in an “active warzone” as it was, even if it could be at a moment’s notice--a fact he kept well in mind as the conversation went on. A few of them begged to disagree, believing somehow that they had better things to do where they were, and attempted to turn the trio away before they could get a proper word in.

“You don’t seem to understand,” Fox piped up, stepping forward to draw the room’s attention. “Believe it or not, like it or not, our business IS your business,” he spoke generally to the entire crowd, in response to the Infiltrator’s comments. He looked about all of them as he continued to make his address, starting with the Soldier. “You’re right about one thing: you are at war… you just don’t know it yet.” This statement would likely provoke a curious look or two from the group, so he began to elaborate.

“See that?” he asked, pointing to the titanic camel they rode in on, which would prove hard NOT to see. “With or without us, that would have found its way here eventually,” he conjectured in half-truth, more aiming to make an example of it in his explanation. “Consider yourselves lucky saner minds prevailed to tame it. It could have just as easily stomped through here raining lightning and reducing this place to dust.” He spoke calmly as he made his point, but still with the intent to make an impression. “In case any of you feel like you can keep ignoring the world and all its problems, just know they won’t ignore you forever.”

Turning back to face them, he continued. “I hate to break it to you, but the real war is out there. Some of us are already fighting it, while you’ve been missing it, and right now, you’re exactly where our--YOUR--enemies want you to be. Acting in circles, distracted, fighting your friends...” Fox prodded at them by reasoning believably sinister motives for subterfuge on behalf of a nondescript ‘enemy’, but also genuinely curious as to who that could be, suspecting there might actually be one. Being no stranger to fighting for sport himself, as arranged initially by a cosmic entity, he knew that these things didn’t happen on their own. Someone had to be behind them.

To that end, he was all but certain the combatants here were unaware that they had been hamster wheeling their way through fight after fight with nothing to show for it. All signs pointed to that being the working scenario, and their given time spent there clarified as much. The question was, could they be convinced to break the monotonous cycle of repeat conflict, or were they bound and compelled by ‘influence’ to sustain it until broken? In part, Fox was trying to test them to get a read for it.

“I doubt you’re all just here for a cheap thrill with no reward. I would know,” he related broadly while wondering over and casually snatching a filled shot glass from the bar nearby. “So, if you think you’ve got a case to make for why staying here to keep doing what you’re doing is somehow better, feel free to sell us on it,” he challenged, expecting any takers to understand (or at least believe) they would have a hard sell to make. “Or you can come with us, and do some actual good,” he proposed, this time more in earnest, assuming any of them cared to. “Who knows, maybe you’ll even be rewarded,” he added in his pitch, appealing to the overall mercenarial sense he got from the group.

“If you really need a better reason, I’m sure something can be worked out,” he said, looking to Sectonia to better know how to handle matters of potential compensation, should it come up further. “Either way, there are kids in that pyramid who need our help,” he gestured to the monument in question across the lake. “So decide fast, and decide now. Stay here, keep shooting at each other to pass the time while you wait for an honest threat to kick down your door, or get on board, join the real fight, and actually fight for something.” At the end of his piece, he shot back the mouthful of whiskey in his hand and gently knocked the thick base of the now empty glass on the countertop as he set it down. “Your call.”


Level: 6 (8 -> 20 -> 22/60)
Location: Dead Zone - Hell-bent City -> Library - Crypt
Word Count: 1027 (+2 EXP)

Power: Split-up
Blue Eggs: 39 -> 30/100
Red Feathers: 44 -> 40 - > 36/50


After successfully making an otherwise troublesome advance through the library, thanks in large part to those sporting incendiary means, Red Team and company proceeded downward into and through the underground to arrive at the crypt hidden beneath it. The way was lit with veins of glowing necrotic energy intermingling with underworldly overgrowth from the Qliphoth, the traces leading them to the source where they found a thousandfold of the same... right where they needed to be. Before them, at the center of this lower sanctum, stretch the third and final root, and between them and it, the ‘Skullgirl’.

The revenant maid, as if waiting for them, greeted them coldly in her opening address. Banjo and Kazooie could see Nadia’s hesitation, and putting together that this was somehow related to her business with the ‘Skull Heart’, they kept to themselves long enough to allow her a moment to tend to it herself. After a second of silence, its bearer confirmed as much aloud with a direct, perhaps rhetorical inquiry. As convenient as it was to have both of their objectives one place, everyone could sense already that it wouldn’t be that easy, or simple. To begin, Bowser’s atypically desperate plea for an alternative fell on deaf ears as Marie made clear her refusal to part with the Skull Heart, wishing to see her vengeful ambition through to the last days of her undeath.

“You know… we kinda just… walked in here. Maybe you could just leave out the way we came in?” Banjo awkwardly suggested at the girl’s mention of being “trapped” there by the root, pointing back with a thumb over his shoulder. He might have known better than to expect that simply having a door left open would be enough. No doubt there was something more to it than that, but the good news was that they had in common that goal of destroying the Qliphoth root. “We’re actually here to get rid of that thing too,” he clarified, pointing to the very root the Skullgirl’s reanimated soldiers were going to work on, “so we could probably help with that if you’d like.”

Had she been willing to accept either of Banjo’s suggestions, it would take her no time at all, and everyone might have come away with what they wanted (except Nadia, maybe). The bad news was that which Nero had to share: that they were on a deadline. He gave his shortest version of the story that amounted to, of all things, a delivery boy personally carrying an IWMD to the region’s center, and that they had less than a day left to complete their mission before the Dead Zone was obliterated.

“And you just… let him take it?” Kazooie interjected with a subdued tone of irritation (possibly in unintended sync with Daxter). “I’m guessing he also somehow beat us there while we weren’t looking?” she added, assuming the porter in question shared their intended destination, questioning how he could make it there so soon in light of the trouble they’d gone through thus far to accomplish the same, and resisting the urge to say “off-screen” instead.

This obviously only served to complicate matters further, as it prompted the Skullgirl to act more dramatically to the revelation. Suddenly believing her own power to be inadequate, she decided to invoke the law of the new world by challenging the party for their own, broadcasting her new intent to take it from them and amass it within herself. Thus, any hope there was of a peaceful resolution was irrevocably lost.

The earth began to rumble and rupture underfoot and all around them, threatening to crush or claim any who failed to escape it. The duo swiftly made sure that wouldn’t include them as Kazooie brought them skyward with an assisting jump from Banjo, burning as many feathers as it took to reach the next closest tier of solid ground (or whatever passed for it). “All this, but she can’t cut through a bloody stump?” Kazooie remarked, regarding the root (and meaning ‘bloody’ in both senses), as they carefully made their ascent through the catacombs coming down around them. After they touched down onto the high-risen battleground, and following one more round of preceding banter between Nadia and Marie, the battle proper was underway.

“Are we still leaving this one for her?” Kazooie asked Banjo, unsure at this point which convention or courtesy they were honoring in the first place (that of fighting games or respect for personal affairs), but knowing it now involved all of them regardless.

“Looks like we’ll have to,” he replied upon seeing the myriad skeletal horde emerge at the command of their revenant master.

“Let’s make it a fair fight then.” To that, Banjo answered with a crack of his neck and a concurring nod, pounding knuckle to palm in a show of eager enthusiasm. It wasn’t so much that he was excited about it (as he typically wasn’t) so much that he was ready to do what he had to, scant as their options were now. Plus, they were due to be officially recognized fighters themselves now (which made for the exception), so it was best that he learned to make the most of it.

The duo Trotted Bowser’s shell and lept overhead, with Banjo entering a spin, slinging his backpack by the straps while Kazooie spun her wings rapidly. At the height of his momentous buildup, and nearing the end of his fall, he slung Kazooie free to circle them like a top, wing cutting down any of the smaller skeletons she caught up in her attack. Then Banjo, with his pack now empty, landed atop a stalhorse, bodying its rider off in doing so, and pulled the sack down over its head, holding onto the straps to use as reigns as it entered a panicked frenzy. He attempted to run it forward and through the mass of undead before them while Kazooie continued concurrently sawing away others in serpentine. As her momentum died down, Banjo dismounted the horse to let it continue bowling over the lesser skeletons as he made to catch his partner, regrouping for the next round.


feat.


@DracoLunaris

Level: 4 (33 -> 39 -> 42/40) LEVEL UP! ---> 5 (2/50)/2 (6 -> 9/20)
Location: Sandswept Sky; Aboard Vah Naboris; Inbound for Lakeside
Word Count: 4131 (+3 EXP)

Power: Impact Shot


The collective efforts of the ground force paid off in short order before more lightning could be called down on them, which Fox was dangerously close to suffering on foot. He was saved having to make a snap decision to aim-dodge the bombardment with a closely timed dash or try to take it with his shield--the latter of which he was almost certain would fail if hazarded--and clearing the Beast’s underside as its mass descended was easy enough with or without Morgana’s help. He would still accept a ride regardless, jumping aboard mid-sprint for the round trip back to Naboris. Boarding the creature was apparently as simple as taking the conveniently placed ramp at its side, whereupon it began rising once more to its feet. It was as if the Beast practically beckoned them aboard.

Within the Beast, a battle waged in the central chamber, with a great warrior woman and her dark, ghastly, phantasmal counterpart gaining the upper hand on those that had entered before. Fox was late to answer her on her call-out thanks to the Thunderblight blitzing its way to the ground floor to meet them all with a rapid assault, and took a hit he wasn’t quite prepared for. To say the least it was astonishing to witness up close the speed at which the phantom covered so much ground to reach them, though they now knew to expect it. After another round or two, Fox noticed that the creature had a tell for when it rushed; it tended to gently sway into its takeoff. Using this new insight, and his own matching movement technique, he evasively led the monstrosity even further away from its ally while he and his own picked it apart. Fox eventually managed to place a solid string of shots directly into its singular eye that, despite their low power, stunned the Thunderblight long enough to bring it down.

From there the Phantom Thieves made good on the opening afforded to them, capitalizing in spectacular fashion as they ripped through the Thunderblight in streaks of sharp shadow hitting it from every angle. Mona, who led the Thieves’ finishing assault, emerged from the battle-haze after dealing the final blow and smugly sending off their foe with a celebratory puff. The spewing dark ichor from the phantom’s mortal wounds dissipated into glittering, ashen dust, followed closely by the creature itself, and with that, the fight was over.

Fox realized late that the amazon-esque woman had fallen as well, learning as much upon noticing her Spirit floating next to that of her previous killer turned comrade. Accompanied with statements of the obvious, he began having thoughts about their overall situation, and with it, he had a hard time feeling satisfied enough with their victory to call it one. The more evident half of his thoughts were echoed aloud with the question of their ability to commandeer the Divine Beast. Only then did it seem to occur to them that perhaps this was a loss they couldn’t necessarily afford, until Primrose stepped in to remind them otherwise. She was the first to suggest one of them taking in Urbosa’s Spirit, taking the two in hand and presenting them to whoever found themselves willing. Rather than entertain the suggestion, more feeling than thinking himself an ill-suited candidate for it, he started quietly taking his first steps away from the scene to further ruminate on the subject.

Sure, maybe they could just annex the necessary knowledge and/or abilities of whoever by way of Spirit absorption as needed, but even if such a loss could be considered affordable, was it really necessary? Being a soldier of fortune (admittedly a thin, supplementary cover for good causes in his case), who had struck down entire armies and even a whole species in the past with not an iota of guilt, hesitation or regret, it was conventionally unbecoming of him to suddenly dwell on the value of individual life. After being ‘awake’ in this new world for less than a day and receiving a crash course on its rules as those before understood them, he was already seeing a problem with how it worked. In a world where everyone--even old friends--could be considered an enemy, and every enemy--even mortal--a potential ally, it seemed a mistake not to more carefully consider that in future engagements as far as who to slay and who to spare. Fox personally understood, if nothing else, the strength of unique individuals as part of a unit over that of one alone, and so silently pledged to act accordingly by setting the example when the next opportunity presented itself. If he could help it, they’d not lose anyone else that they didn’t have to.

As per the proposed method, Midna didn’t hesitate to take in the Spirit of her fallen foe, casually alluding to some intuited connection to Ganondorf to rationalize her (second) death. Fox paused in his steps at the mention of the name, one that had become loosely familiar to him in years past, and not in the best of ways. Of those present, that made him and her the only two present who knew of him at all. He was suddenly curious as to her relationship to him, guessing that they hailed from the same world, yet somehow, based on her cautiously optimistic conjecture about his ‘awakening’, he knew almost better than her that they were all but certain to run into him, reminding him once more of who and what was inevitably in store for them. If there was ever any one enemy (from another world) he had ever encountered that made him think and act more carefully in dealing with…

Fox made his way over to the Beast’s core near where Midna resided, listening to the brief she gave of her newfound bond with and seamless command of it. Observing the terminal itself, it was evident that this was a relatively primitive, but no less sophisticated technology at work, one which he couldn’t begin to comprehend. If it hailed from Hyrule, given what little he understood about anything from there, it was the likely product of primordial techno-magicka, not that he could conclude that on his own. More interesting to him was the revelation that it was intended as a weaponized deterrent against Ganon, which prompted him to take the impish princess up on her offer to “chat.”

“So what else do you know now?” Fox opened with the vague line of inquiry, expecting her to take his meaning.

Midna looked over at him from where she lay, the tearful overlaid eye of the sheikah staying in place as her own found him for a moment, before it turned back to the ceiling ”I’ve been trying to figure that out,” she admitted after a moment. The princess let silence hang for a moment after, likely mulling over what to say before trying her best to explain.

”I don't exactly know things she knew. I don't have memories of being her, or at least I can’t find any. So I didn’t remember how to control Vah Naboris, I just looked at it and suddenly it just made sense, almost instinctively,” she pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows in thought for a moment before she added ”Which is maybe more concerning than if I had memories that I knew weren't my own.”

Fox nodded softly at the latter end of her statement, bearing a thoughtful look about him. While contemplating the potential consequences of thoughtlessly taking someone out for their Spirit that he skipped over the possible side effects Spirit absorption on those who undergo it. Still, in consideration of the former, he couldn’t fault her for killing Urbosa, for she had what she believed to be good reason to.

“Not to alarm you,” he began, focusing away from the terminal to face her more directly, “but if you know what to call it--and what it’s for--you may be getting some feedback,” he theorized. Turning his back to the core to prop himself against it, he looked off once more into the mostly vacant space of Naboris’ central chamber and continued. “But I’m sure you knew some of it already. To me... it doesn’t make much sense.” He paused for a second for her attention before asking, at the risk of punching a hole in her previous assumption about the Gerudo Champion, “What would a servant of Ganon be doing with a weapon made to kill him?”

Midna paused, raised a finger and looked up and to the right as she was dug through her own memories before saying ”No... No, she called it that when she showed up. Before you came.That’s where I know it from,” not sounding like she was entirely confident with what she was saying.

She shuffled a little on her spot, clearly uncomfortable, before taking a breath and becoming calm again, regaining her relaxed position and smiling at him ”I appreciate the concern foxy, but I've got this under control.”

”As for why she was with it, presumably for the same reason the dark machine specter was. To stop people using it. Zant, a treacherous usurper who served Gannon, did the same with the twilight mirror to stop me from using it to return home and reclaim my throne. He couldn’t destroy it completely, the fake king that he was, so he broke it into 4 pieces. Then he hid 3 of them from me and created monsters to guard them,” Midna said, casual confidence fully returned. ”Didn’t work of course. Your’s truly found them all, used them to get home and then killed that treacherous little bokoblin. With a little help from my Link.”

Midna’s logic checked out, with an anecdote to corroborate it. She would sooner know than him in any case. “Maybe you’re right,” he stolidly, halfheartedly concurred with her theory about Urbosa safeguarding the Beast against any who would use it, “and I’m sure you can handle… this,” he added, gesturing generally to Naboris. “I’m not worried about that,” he calmly, but earnestly reassured as he paced over to the edge of the platform near where Midna lay. "There is something bothering me about all this though," he admitted while seating himself at the ledge, leaning on palm and raised knee, leaving a comfortable gap between them. “Besides what we know of, I’m not sure I can tell who our real enemies are.”

”Good, because I can” Midna agreed with him before rolling to the side to look at him when he sat next to her, elbow leaning on her wolfos and fist holding up her cheek as she continued to speak, her one exposed eye roaming over him as if she where only now taking the time to properly examine him. The motion put her a touch closer to him, but the gap reminded the comfortable distance between meer associates nonetheless.

”I suppose i’ve gotten lucky in a way with this being familiar-ish stuff so far,” she waved a hand around the beast before continuing ”also having done this before in a way, though that was time rather than reality getting all mashed up and twisted,”

”With so much unfamiliar stuff in this world, it’s probably best to assume hostility from anyone and everyone till proven otherwise. Red eyes or clear,” Midna said after a few moments of contemplation on his question, ”I’m not saying we cant learn to trust people, just that you shouldn’t risk exposing your throat to the unknown”

“No...” he concurred, “because that would mean trusting everything, and I would rather be prepared for it.” This came as a tacit admission to just how little he knew about what to expect in spite of his previous experiences, with an allusion to his main point tacked onto it. He let a brief second of silence hang as he adjusted himself, leaning slightly forward, still bearing visible pensivity. “This isn’t a first for me either.”

Minda raised an eyebrow and leaned in a little closer, clearly all ears on the subject ”It’s not?”

“Making allies out of people I barely knew, or just met, with only a greater common enemy to trust them by, and a god at the end of all of them who just wanted the world for himself...” Fox started listing the general facts of a particular episode in his life years prior that might strike Midna as parallel or familiar to their current overarching predicament. “Truth is I’ve been here before, and I’m not the only one. There are some of us now who still remember it. I remember us almost losing.” Fox’s tone shifted subtly while he stoically recounted the pivotal moments of the Subspace Incident.

“It wasn’t enough to have the best of us altogether. We pulled through because all of us came together. We won… with the help of our friends, and our enemies,” which, between him and Wolf, actually made for a second time for him. He turned his head slightly more toward Midna as he made to further illustrate his point. “If you can believe it, even Ganondorf was with us in the end,” and the beginning the time after that, at the cliffside, when they did lose, but he neglected to mention that much.

”He was what!” Minda balked at the possibility, flinching backwards, causing her wolfos cushion to stir and growl at Fox. The implicit threat from her mount seemed to draw Midna out of the rage and shock she was feeling. ”No. Down.” she ordered the beast, pressing its head back down to the ground.

The princess sat up from resting against the beast, her hands gripping the side of the stone platform they were sitting on as she asked ”Who could have possibly thought that working with him was a good idea? How did it not end in disaster?”

While he did watch it more attentively, Fox had no strong reaction to Midna’s lupine mount baring its fangs at him, not even so much as hovering a hand over his sidearm. In a manner of speaking, he was rather used to it by now. “I don’t know,” Fox admitted, lightly shaking his head in response. He thought back on his encounters with Bowser at the time, personally knowing him to have been responsible for it in part. “Maybe it just didn’t work out for them, and they realized they had no options left,” he guessed. Such tended to be the case for the Koopa King, having many times before sided with his nemesis upon failure, and even now sided with them in their campaign.

”I don’t like it, not one bit” Midna asserted before sighing and looking up at the ceiling ”but I take it if you don’t know much then you didn’t get close,” she glanced over at him and added ”So I think you’re safe. I’m not going to be open to working with him if that somehow ends up being a thing. But I’ll keep what you said in mind overall” before going quiet and implicitly letting him continue talking about subspace

“The last time this happened, none of us knew what we were really up against, who was behind it all, or what was at stake. We didn’t have the luxury of understanding our enemy,” a fact that remained largely unchanged, all things considered, “but at least then the burden fell on able bodies. Only those of us who could deal with it had to. Now…” he sat up into a kneel, looking down over the ledge and into the distance none of their travel companions in particular, “it’s everyone’s problem; everyone’s involved, whether they can afford to be or not.”

”These kinds of threats are always everyone’s problem, most of the time your average person won’t or can't step up to face it. That said, I don’t think we're at the point where we need to force farmers into illfiting armor to face world ending horrors at spearpoint just yet. If Galeem starts feilding armies we might need to worry about burdening the common folk, but for now the burdens are still on well worn shoulders. Anyone else can go stay in Alcamoth” She replied. She’d let go of the parapet by the time she finished speaking, but she hadn’t gone back to lounging.

”Also, how do we know that won’t happen again,” she then asked, ”Do we know for sure this is the whole picture? That Galeem’s everything we have to worry about, or is it’s light blinding us to another master behind the monster?”

Fox hung his head in thought at the question, not having speculated that far ahead. “I guess we’ll find out,” he said, blinking softly as he stood back up. “Until then, we could do worse than to improve our odds, by shortening theirs. Give them less to use against us,” he suggested, appealing to her sense of pragmatism. He began tracing the edge with his steps, then pacing around behind Midna as he continued to speak. “Not everyone in this world is even aware that anything’s wrong. I didn’t remember myself until this morning.” A more somber expression creeped onto him with his own reminder of his time under Galeem’s influence. “I could have ended up just like her,” referring not so subtly to Urbosa, “Any one of us could have.”

He stopped at the ledge leading up to one of the ramps, looking around at each of his teammates scattered throughout Naboris’ interior. “I don’t expect to save everyone, or to conscript them all if we do,” he clarified, not wanting to be misunderstood, knowing better than to be able to. Casualties of war and all. “Anyone who can and wants to help us will. That’ll be their choice to make, but I think anyone we can spare it for should have the chance to decide that for themselves,” He glanced back over to Midna. “The same one we have.”

”There’s risk involved there,” Midna countered, drifting up off the platform so she could face him as he walked behind her ”She attacked us first, first with lightning and then with sword. She was with Gannon’s servant. She would have kept fighting after she was freed,” Midna insisted ”There are people and things that cannot be reasoned with and if we try it just gives them an opening. If we don’t know they are going to be friendly or neutral when freed, then trying it anyway is a bet with lives on the line.”

She floated upwards keeping herself at eye level with him as he walked. Her arms folded and for the first time that they had been speaking she was maintaining eye contact as she spoke. ”Sure. We can try and free those we can, but if it’s a gamble on whether they’ll help or not, and the thing we are betting is the lives of those we know are in this fight? Then that’s not a bet I’d want to take. It’s a real heroic thing, what you want to do. But I hope you keep the risks in mind before you put other’s lives on the table.”

Fox slowed his pace to a halt before speaking up. “They already are,” he started, pausing for emphasis. “Ours; theirs; everyone’s lives are already at stake. Like it or not, every decision we make from here on out is a bet made on someone’s life,” he explained calmly.

With a soft sigh, he continued, “I’m not asking you to act against your better judgement; to do anything you can’t or otherwise wouldn’t do. Really, I’m not asking you to do anything at all.” In his open left palm, Fox gently manifested a fuschia heart-shape aglow with healing warmth to float idly in presentation. I can do it. I’ll make the first bet,” he assured, “and if I’m wrong, you can let me pay for it later.” With that, he closed his grip softly around the Friend Heart to dismiss and continued walking past the Twi-imp at a leisurely pace as he continued to speak.

“You don’t have to trust everyone you meet. I won’t even ask you to trust me. I’m sure you have your reasons.” He briefly halted in his steps to further clarify, “I just need you to understand mine, so that you won’t try to stop me.”

He stopped once more on his way as a singular forethought creeped back into his head to remind him why he started this conversation in the first place. “At some point, sooner or later, you’re bound to find people you know in this world. Some you can’t do without,” he glanced back over his shoulder at Midna, “and others, like Ganon.” He brought this matter back up for the moment as a means of meeting the princess halfway as well as letting his own point set in.

“Do you think this ‘weapon’ will be enough by then?” He asked earnestly regarding Naboris’ function, looking to Midna as the resident expert on the matter of Ganon as a whole. “Could you do it alone, or will you need all you can get?” Fox returned his attention forward as he let the questions linger. “When the time comes, I’ll trust you to know,” he stated in closing before continuing on his way.

“This thing will help, that I’m sure, but enough? No. If he’s here, we’ll need every advantage we can get,” Midna said to him as he left, before returning back to the spot she’d been sitting in, never managing to get quite as comfortable as she had been before they spoke.




Eventually, Midna called everyone to attention in announcement of their arrival as Naboris took its encroaching steps toward the oasis, as she could see first-hand through Naboris’ eyes. Fox joined the assembly on the right-most deck to observe the scene from afar, unable to match Poppi’s magnification, but discerning enough to loosely confirm her findings. The Phantom Thieves opted to disembark near the pyramid to tend to their appointed business there, while the rest moved closer to the temple grounds themselves across the lake from it. The conflict at ground level ceased shortly after they made their first stop, giving them time to deliberate on their next course of action before the second round, starting with deciding on their advance party and a suitable drop-off point.

“Wherever we set down, I don’t think it’ll matter how close we are. No doubt anyone looking has seen us already,” he reasoned, as there was no subtlety to be had when it came to walking an ancient towering war machine into one’s territory. “If we can get in on the ground though, we might still have the chance to surprise them while they fight each other.” Fox’s use of plural pronouns suggested he, respectfully, wasn’t all in on Tora’s plan to minimize the amount of manpower going in by sending Poppi alone.

“I’m going with you,” he insisted. “The rest of you be ready to get in behind us and back us up if we need it. Engage only if and when necessary,” he advised, keeping in mind the hyper-aggressive response of those still under the ‘Light’. “Try to keep casualties and collateral to a minimum where you can. Where you can’t,” he drew out his blaster to check the action on it, ‘chambering’ it before reholstering, “do what you have to.”

He singled out their Divine pilot to lay down one additional set of instructions. “Midna,” he called on with a look in her direction, “we’ll need you to hang back to keep us covered from here. You’re our contingency. If things get bad enough for us down there, bring the storm. Crash in if you have to. Give them something bigger to fight.” He awaited only confirmation from Midna before setting out for the battlefield with Poppi.

“Let’s go,” he said to the artificial Blade, already quickening his steps for the balustrade to leap from it and begin his descent. Whether she decided to catch and carry him in then fan out from there was up to her. He would fare well enough on his own with a well-timed Jet thrust otherwise. Once he broke the boundary and made entry, he would do his best to keep his profile down while co-opting reconnaissance with Poppi, ducking immediately between narrow areas of cover and putting his back to a shadowed wall where he could get a decent visual of the battlefield while remaining hidden. All the while, he kept a ready hand near both of his weapons, ready to draw either of them on a moment’s notice.


Level: 6 (55 -> 56/60)
Location: Limsa Lominscuttle Town; Going up!
Word Count: 222 (+1 EXP)


In her haste, Hat Kid missed the conversation Peach and company were having about acquiring a means of air travel as she drifted steadily further out of earshot, then sight. She would be disappointed soon after to find soon after reaching the heights at the outer edge of the city that her Hat would provide her no helpful guidance, as it was pointing directly to the Bottomless Sea. In fairness, it was functioning exactly as it should by generally indicating an objective destination. It just didn’t do her much good in this circumstance as far as finding a good way to get there.

After a second spent grumbling at the realization from atop a freight suspended up high on a winch, Hat Kid figured there was nowhere to go from there but up… literally. Her next move was to reach the highest point in Limsa. She didn’t know what to expect or have much of a plan for when she got there, but she made her two best assumptions about it. One, if nothing else, she would have a good vantage point from which to spot whatever she thought to seek out next. Two, if anything, or anyone else was up there with her, they probably flew to get there (unless they just so happened to be prodigal acrobats like herself).


Level: 6 (53 -> 55/60)
Location: Edge of the Blue - Inkwell Isle Three -> Seaward Bay -> Limsa Lominscuttle Town - Hawker’s Alley -> Bulwark Hall -> ???
Word Count: 766 (+2 EXP)


As tempting as it was to jump ship to chase a Time Piece on her radar just as they were leaving port, Hat Kid made the difficult decision to instead set sail and come back for it later. The voice in her head was right. There was no telling what she would be tasked with or asked to do by the time she found it, and she would then have to find her own way across the sea afterwards to catch up. Besides, she didn’t like to work that way anyway. Anytime she made planetfall/went somewhere with a specific task or goal in mind, she didn’t detract from it to tend to another; she saw it through. There was always next time, when they made their eventual return trip on their way to the Dark Forest, so she was content to simply make it her next goal for when they passed back through.

Kid settled in as they left port and seated herself for the ride in the stillest spot she could find on an animate vessel that lived on the basic principles of animation. Of course, she made sure her spot had a panoramic view; perhaps the crow’s nest would suffice. This way she could calmly scan the horizon on all sides, from the bay to the Sea, while also keeping her mind’s eye on the waypoint and direction given respectively by her Hat and Compass. The former pointed ahead, and the latter behind, so she wanted to be aware of any sudden changes made to that as they went. Needless to say she would be opting out of the fishing minigame, but casually observing as they passed the trawler heading the opposite way.

They eventually made port at the seaborne town; Hat Kid didn’t wait for them to finish docking to jump ship and begin looking around, consulting her Hat and Compass once more. She quickly lost focus on either of her objectives with the arrival and introduction of the hybrid ship-girls, whom she giddily redirected her full attention to. Okay, maybe not her full attention. She mostly just looked them over and admired the novelty of their concept whilst skimming the listening portion of the rundown Shropshire was giving them, mostly honing in on the answer she gave that they were, in fact, ships. But is that what she really meant, or were they but pilots wearing/wielding ship parts being classified as ‘ships’? Related inquiries aside--such as how mass shipments of anything were handled in the presumed absence of proper freighters larger than a female humanoid--the child had a feeling she would have her answer sooner or later.

With Shropshire’s departure and Peach’s permission, the latter of which she wouldn’t have waited for anyway, Kid set off to explore the city at every altitude she could manage, just to cut loose in this bustling new locale they had made the right decision to come to. Though, she kept track of where Peach went in case she needed to get back to her in a hurry, which wasn’t and wouldn’t be too hard for her. In any case, the shopping district wouldn’t keep the child long, given she had nothing to spend there to make it worth her while.

Some few minutes after leaving Hawker’s Alley for the ‘ship’-yard to get a better look at its ‘navy’, Kid ended up incidentally reuniting with Peach, both of whom skipped conventional routes to get there. The Admiral, who was not at all like the subjects she commanded, was stern and rather blunt in her dialogue with the Princess, initially dismissing their mission as folly. She was right about one thing though: trust really wasn’t earned through taskwork. Hat Kid personally knew this much from experience; she mutually distrusted just about everyone she ever did a favor for, and for what almost always turned out to be good reason. Still, that didn’t seem to stop her from assigning them what sounded like a sizable task before returning to her own duties and sending them on their way.

Regarding where to go from there, the child consulted her internal waypoint for the next relevant point of interest while the others debated on the next step to take. Then it was just a matter of monkeying her way there (not that she had to, but would choose to) to see what was in store. Any who wished to follow her were welcomed to do so, but she would have to manage her pace and route choice to accommodate those less mobile than her if that included everyone.


Level: 6 (7 -> 8/60)
Location: Dead Zone - Argent Tower -> Sundered Avenue -> Hell-bent City
Word Count: 701 (+1 EXP)

Power: Pending…
Blue Eggs: 100 -> 62 -> 39/100
Red Feathers: 50 -> 44/50


The going away from the tower was hardly the fastest, but at least now they were making their getaway. With a vehicularly inexperienced mechanoid at the wheel, however, coupled with the resistance they would no doubt meet along the way, the diminished pace didn’t the going any easier. The duo maintaining their balance atop an armored vehicle with a mounted weapon meant having to hang onto it with every other turn (even the most shallow) while making sure to avoid it every time it fired, on top of repelling the share of Flood that got past it between charges. For what it was worth, they were decently suited to the task in one way that no one else was. While they were unaware of the specific threat posed by the smaller, skittering Flood forms, their perpetual back-to-back positioning conveniently ensured that none of them would find purchase on the back of either of their necks.

By sheer quantity there was no stopping a small, but appreciable number of the Flood jumping or crawling aboard the dozer in waves, those that managed to not be splattered under its tires or against its front bumper. It fell to the duo (and whoever else) to fix that from the roof. They began by spitting off a few repelling shots at the bounding combat forms until too many were aboard to keep shooting at, whereupon they resorted to Beak Bayonet for close range, then Breegull Bash shortly thereafter before stowing Kazooie to cover Banjo’s back. They didn’t have too much difficulty fighting them aside from their numbers, the first of which were cleared by the turret, manned by an inexperienced driver who couldn’t see them. After that close call enemies began piling on again, but sharp beak and heavy paw seemed to suffice for another round more, with a wing stomp to clear the crawler buildup.

Soon, Banjo found himself having to hold his face shut after getting his first whiff of poisonous gas sourced from a flock of flying creatures that, while not allied with the Flood, still saw fit to harass them. Upon spotting them himself, and dodging a swooping bite from one of them, Banjo threw the turret arm at the nearest of them to swat them down. The weapon happened to be discharged at that moment to take out more mid-swing, and those that were still up and on them, the duo took care of with some parting egg fire.

While they managed to eventually break through and leave behind the greater mass of the Flood, they had not yet freed themselves of peril. For one obstacle, they traded another, as the terrain became their new enemy. Thankfully, by the time the path fractured, dropped, and made traversal and balance maintenance harder for those to whom it mattered, Jak and Daxter, the best drivers in the party, booted the Medabot from the driver’s seat and took the wheel from her, straightening out the difficulty curve somewhat. It didn’t entirely solve the problem of the Flood bomber dropping organic mines on the road ahead of them, however, boding near ill when the dozer finally hit one close to the upcoming gap. Suddenly, before anyone else had a chance to see to it themselves, a cloaked, phantasmal figure flew in unexpectedly, and from out of nowhere, to cleave the bomber down, clearing the jump for them.

Banjo hunkered down in preparation for the ramp. Whether the dozer cleared the gap or not, him and Kazooie decided to get off here. Just as the tires left the pavement, Kazooie sprang forward from a green platform, landing back atop the dozer at its apex in tandem arcs. Where she had left a green platform, she landed back on a blue and red one. Once they took to the air, they planned to stay there, at least for as long as they could or had to. They were silently thanking themselves for their good decision when the ground on the other side showed the first signs of giving way. In suit with the rest, the pair climbed in altitude and continued making their way for the remaining Qliphoth root, whether it meant following the group or leading them.






Level: 4 (32 -> 33/40)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Shadow of Vah Naboris
Word Count: 392 (+1 EXP)


To say the least, the party didn’t disperse their forces in quite the way he had hoped they would. When prompting the flyers to fan out and issuing the command to target the Beast’s feet, he didn’t expect or intend for them to fly straight to its interior while leaving the feet to them. In fact, he had counted on Poppi, boasting the heaviest artillery among them, to chip in on that front, and as for the Courier, it was impossible to tell where he was at on his end without being able to see or hear from him. There was no telling for him if this resulted from an error in communication or just everyone having their own ideas how they could best contribute, but there was no means of or sense in arguing it now. Besides, this was more his area than anyone else’s, even if he was presently under-equipped for it individually, and he wasn’t one to command anything of others that he wouldn’t do himself if he could.

“Be ready,” he called out after knocking on the van’s interior wall to alert both the van and the driver, “I’ll need you to pick me up.” It was hard to tell between Skull and Morgana who was really in control, so he made his request out loud nonspecifically to whichever one of them could better fulfill it. With the back wide open, while Primrose bolted one foot, Fox was free to take the other opposite. He took a calculated, deliberate fall out of the opening to line up with his target, and before hitting the sand, he dashed straight for its foot, stopping dead on top of it with an explosive report.

He found out quickly as the foot lifted up just how poor a foothold it made for. He slid down from the ankle of the rising hoof, kicking off of it, air dashing in reverse to hit it with another explosion before it got too far away from him, and caught himself against the ground in a recovery roll. He couldn’t afford to linger in the open for long, so he made haste in moving to intercept the van on its return trip. If he could manage, he would try to get off one more Burst to hit one of the other feet on his way back.


Level: 4 (30 -> 32/40)
Location: Sandswept Sky
Word Count: 859 (+2 EXP)


The enigmatic woman’s words to Fox were short and vague, sparing in details, but helpful enough in that there were elements of danger in her listing that he genuinely wouldn’t have guessed on his own. Particularly, her mention of cold and radiation stood out to him in that regard, as well as her offer to assist them prior to her abrupt takeoff. Everything else seemed obvious enough that he or anyone else could have predicted or figured it out. Even her given directive fell firmly in line with the party’s initial surprise assessment; that their goal in fact lay at the peak in plain view. One of them, perhaps.

Something about that still seemed wrong, however. It was too easy, he thought. Not in the sense that he expected the path there to be smooth, easy, non-violent or direct, despite appearances of the latter. The problem he saw lay in not only the fact that it appeared that way to begin with, but also that they already met a willing guide and participant to their cause… in the war effort against Galeem. The burning crimson in her eyes made it hard to tell if she meant to lead or lure them, intentionally or not. Fox, fresh off of the influence as of earlier in the day, could speak to the more than likely absence of awareness in her. It was entirely possible that she had every intention of aiding them in the coming conflict, but equally likely that things could go wrong beyond her control by the time they got there. Thus, her insistence on seeing them there personally was to be heeded with cautious scrutiny.

With the woman’s summary departure, Fox paced back over to the van where the others were gathered, contemplating their next move while they deliberated on it. While Fox was a fan of getting the job done, he couldn’t help getting the same impression that they might be in some way ill-prepared, and a side venture or two along the way might do them some good. To the Twili imp's query, he answered, “What we already knew. We’re on the right track...” He paused for a moment, glancing back toward the mountaintop, then to the Divine Beast, and beyond. “But if we have anything else to take care of here, let’s do that first,” he said in agreement with the consensus (prior to knowing of it) to explore ahead of the main fight. “Just be sure to watch our heading, and our footing closely as we go. I doubt we’ll be alone out here,” he finished, echoing the woman’s warning as he made to enter the van.

For the following stretch of the drive, Fox kept a constant eye looking out for any otherwise unseen dangers that might be upon them at a moment’s notice. As they soon found out, however, the first threat they would face lay in plain view. As the gang started to get a better look at the great camel, so too did they fall within its notice. Whether the red of its eyes was natural to it or by the light of Galeem, one could scarcely tell, but they bore an unmistakably unwelcoming intent. Even from a fair distance, the swelling of energy could be audibly discerned over the heavy sandstorm that they were passing through, and at the first sign of it, Fox threw open the van’s rear doors to get a full visual on the Beast, aided in small part by the targeting system in his eyepiece.

He didn’t get a long glimpse of it before slamming the doors shut a second before the lightning strike, but it was enough time to see what he needed to. Anyone else who was looking for it might find it as well. What he found was that it drew in electrical energy upward through its feet--from the ground and/or movement--to power itself and smite oncomers with… so someone smarter or more familiar with it might hypothesize seeing the same. To him, they were just big, glowing weak points screaming to be shot at by any other like it he had seen in his lifetime. The only problem was he wasn’t sufficiently armed to considerably damage it himself--not without provoking some risk for a single hit (which wouldn’t discourage him from trying it if he saw the need to). While the question was going around about engaging the machine or not, he already had an idea about how to do that.

“Double back!” He directed to Joker and gang. “If we can get under it, and stay there, that may put us out of its targeting range. Six! This is Fox,” he called to the Courier over comms, knowing better than to prompt a response. “You and the other fliers fan out. Keep its attention divided. And if you have something heavy to hit it with, aim for its feet.” At the end of his call, he turned his attention back to the rest of Morgana’s occupants, looking for confirmation--that they had heard his command and of their ability to somehow help see it through. “The rest of you copy?”


Level: 4 (29 -> 30/40)
Location: Eryth Sea - Smash City Alcamoth -> Sandswept Sky - Desert Landing
Word Count: 730 (+1 EXP)


Even for those among Yellow Team who couldn’t fly (which made most of them), the adjacency of the Eryth Sea to their destination made for a painless, largely quiet trip there. It wasn’t as convenient as, say, teleporting, as the other teams had done, but not everyone had the luxury of being so close to their target region’s border that they could simply cross over it on foot. Fox kept a pace or two ahead of the grounded share of the squad--those that were officially part of it anyway. The masked teens and their cat moved and worked at their own pace, seemingly uninterested in uniting their efforts with the collective beyond what was incidental to the conditions of their travel.

The downhill trail through the tight mountain pass bled into the hot, sparkling dunes under blistering, sedimentary air exacerbated by the sun made somehow brighter with the transition--all previously obscured by the range of peaks leading there. It was enough to prompt Fox to mask himself with his collar bandana for the first time in… well, perhaps ever. His eyepiece--not terribly useful under the current conditions--picked up just as much detail as his squinted eyes hand-shielded from whistling dust winds, which was of course very little, but enough to faintly discern a great silhouette snaking around the distant summit. The question (one of several anyway) was whether or not they would actually be able to cross the vast desert on their own power to make it there, or be in fighting shape by then should they manage. For lack of a better way, Fox was just about to hazard it until the youth gang’s feline transmuted itself into a passenger friendly vehicle and, at Tora’s plea, graciously allowed the grounded number of them aboard with a friendly disclaimer of possible discomfort.

Fox, for one, was quietly grateful for being lent a ride, none too bothered by the occupancy shortage or lack of cooling. In line with the others, he slipped off his flight jacket to expose his bare, now sleeveless fur to what cool air there was to take in while they were sheltered, and would make a point to don it again after stepping out into the buffeting sands. In the meantime, while everyone else was getting familiar, Fox zoned out into the HUD of his headset trying to find any viable line of communication he could between him and any of his comrades. Alas, all that showed up was a shortwave, one-way radio receiver on the Courier. Still, mixed results were better than none. At least Fox could potentially talk to him, if not vice versa.

After a minute the car came to a stop, bringing Fox’s attention back to his surroundings. He stepped out of the van and donned his bandana and jacket once more, and he began to survey his surroundings while Morgana rested. It seemed they could use an adjustment to their heading, seeing as they had made no visible progress. The teenage gang and a couple of others deliberated on which direction to take. Toward the mountain following the sun lay their apparent destination, but the gang seemed to have other plans first. Peering into the distance where the sandstorm worsened they could see a great mechanical ungulate slowly treading a circle in the sands, and while it showed no immediate signs of aggression or hostility, one look at it made it difficult to believe that it wasn’t potentially dangerous.

“Wherever we go from here,” Fox began aloud to no one in particular/anyone who was listening, “my guess is we’ll have to get past that to get there,” he said alluding to the giant clockwork camel. As well as that, the roiling movement beneath the sands some short ways off didn’t escape him either. “And maybe more…” he uttered more softly this time. Already he was running through a headful of scenarios for the most likely inevitable series of engagements they were in for. As no one had yet approached the lone woman posted up at the totem-lined path, Fox decided to be the first, hoping she might have (and offer) some insights. “Anything you can tell us about this place? What we can expect to run into?” In his inquiry, Fox opted to dispense with the introductions and salutations, taking the woman from her bearing to not be much for them.
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