Lugubrious

World of Light

Alright, thank you for the clarification. It would be ideal to include what each emotion does when they're used in powers just to have the data in-house, but all in all the sheet's looking quite acceptable.

World of Light

The sheet seems good. The backstory was tough to wrap my head around, but I assume that's just a product of a more abstract sort of game, so that's just my problem. I just have a couple questions about his abilities. Do the emotions Omori inflicts have any gameplay effect, like debuffs, or are they just emotions? Does 'initially in a battle' mean 'once per battle'?

Infactorium: A New 4Xpansion (Overlord RP) [DISCONTINUED]

Cool! Being able to just place things like in Sims would definitely speed up the process over ordering construction and all that. Thanks!

Infactorium: A New 4Xpansion (Overlord RP) [DISCONTINUED]

Just for the sake of clarification, are the new factories already built? Earlier in the meeting (although six months ago IRL time) it sounded like we just had the blueprint, and it would be up to the overseers to design their floors. From the most recent post it sounds like they're done and ready to be turned on and explored though. In either case, could I also ask who built/will build them?

World of Light

Asbestos

Location: Sandswept Sky - Gerudo Town
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, Raiden’s @XoXKieroBombXoX, Panther, Necronomicon, Peacock, Tharja
Word Count:

With the men of the group and any of their sympathizers left behind, the remainder of their party made their way toward Gerudo Town. While not paved at all, the path there across the sand was a well-trodden one, and with the veil of nightfall pulled once more across the Sandswept Sky, it was a journey the lucky few could make in relative ease and comfort.

Asbestos, for one, seemed to be in a good mood. Compared to the others the savra girl had barely broken a sweat at all today, with nothing more than a few training exercises from that morning under her belt, followed by the boredom of sitting on her hands during both legs of the Virgin Victory’s desert voyage. The chance to bully some monsters with her explosive greatshield came as a rare treat for her, but the opportunity to explore somewhere new and exciting was something she treasured above all else. Without the fatigue accumulated by the others during the day’s ordeals on Split Mountain and the Railway Gun, she sauntered along at the forefront with pep in her step, her salamander tail bouncing along behind her with a lantern held tight in its curled tip. That said, a rather severe case of RBF suggested that she wasn’t frothing at the mouth to make new friends or bother with idle chit-chat.

When Jesse spoke up en route to Gerudo Town, therefore, she quickly found herself on the receiving end of a derisive snort from Asbestos. Her tail came around with its lantern to shed some light on the woman who disturbed the peaceful silence. “Huh! If yah came up on deck eahliah, yah woulda seen fah yahself, Red. Look!” She motioned with her head toward their destination. While the gloom made it difficult to perceive all the details, the light of the world’s moons plus the many blazing braziers of Gerudo Town provided enough illumination for a keen pair of eyes. From their position on the ground the campaigners could see only the sandstone walls that encircled the place and guarded the city inside from view, most of which featured tops of uncarved stone rather than battlements, but where walkways existed the fires of torchlight revealed the well-armed guardswomen that patrolled them. Beyond the walls, only the three goblet-shaped monoliths could be glimpsed, their sides and streams of crystal-clear water catching the fickle firelight from below. “It’s like an ancient walled city. And if that ain’t good for yah, just shut yah yap an’ pick up the pace!”

From a distance Gerudo Town appeared to be on the smaller side, judging by the two lady warriors guarding the main entrance, but as the party grew closer they realized their metrics might be a bit off. When she realized that things looked to be a little bigger than they first seemed, Asbestos scrunched her eyebrows up in bemusement, and her confusion only continued to grow until she and the others finally reached the front gate, where she stared up at the spearmaidens in astonishment. The Gerudo, side-lit by the fire bowls set in recesses to either side of the entryway, were no ordinary women; standing up to eight feet, these brawny lasses towered over every newcomer sans Sectonia, and over Asbestos in particular. At a mere five foot one, the defender barely even reached the guards’ belly buttons. When the Gerudo glanced back down at her imperiously Asbestos made sure to give both of them the stink eye, just to make sure they knew how little their stunning physiques impressed her. Anyone who dared look down at her, after all, would soon find that her attitude far outstripped her dimensions.

Although the surliness earned Asbestos a stern look, the newcomers passed the guards’ brief examination. In particular they seemed to approve of Tharja, whose attire suited both their purposes and their civilization’s culture, even if her mood remained murky and distant. After they unbarred the entrance corridor with their spears the Gerudo stepped aside to admit their guests. “Welcome to Gerudo Town,” the more elaborately-armored of the pair told them, her rigid features and commanding glare a little less hospitable than her words. “We hope you will enjoy your stay.”

The rather strict inspection at the entrance set somewhat of a dour tone for the group, but the moment Asbestos proceeded through the stone corridor and Gerudo Town opened up before them, she quickly forgot all about it. A beautiful main thoroughfare greeted them, floored by mosaic tiles, studded with tall coconut palms that swished in the evening breeze, and cut through by glittering canals that babbled softly in time with the flutter and billow of splendid storefront cloths. Masterful statues and obelisks, many with a decidedly Egyptian flavor, could be seen along the avenue at regular intervals. Even the sandstone walls of adjacent buildings featured lovely murals, which danced in the light of the braziers as they flickered and sputtered. Though much smaller in scale than Al Mamoon, the place possessed a sort of thematic, historic beauty that the Cream of the Eastern Desert did not. It also seemed to be much quieter and more serene in the dark, although with dusk only recently fallen and the night still young, plenty of its citizens were still out and about.

And for the most part, Jesse’s intuition was spot-on. A sizable chunk, if not a majority, of the town’s residents appeared to be Gerudo, and one would be hard-pressed to find fault with their appearances, especially if one possessed an affinity for height or musculature. That said, Asbestos noticed a bunch of other female characters as she looked around, a number of whom didn’t fit the place’s aesthetic, such as blue-skinned Elerians and the feline Kaka Clan, so she assumed that this area must be about as jumbled-up as the rest of them. Instead of the local people, however, Asbestos cared more about the town’s facilities. Quickly taking stock with the aid of a signpost, she spotted a handful of stores and stalls that seemed to be open, including a smithy, grocer, and loot exchange. To the left were the Sand Seal Pens, ahead was a commissions counter, and farther on she could see a pub called Warrior’s Honor, the Grand Cathedral of the Chantry (which judging by a cursory glance didn’t look as big as its name would imply), a large inn nestled among the residences, and one fortified structure closer to the palace that appeared to be a dual-purpose barracks and jail, complete with a training yard outside. There seemed to be some sort of commotion over at the jail, but the Savra girl didn’t care. Then there was the palace itself, but Asbestos certainly had no plans to go there. Instead, her hunger and thirst compelled her to set a course straight for the pub without so much as warning the others.

Alice took in the sights through half-lidded eyes, her manner languid as usual. “Hopefully this place is somewhat less medieval than it appears, or we may have some trouble procuring the fuel and material to return the Virgin Victory to mint condition.” She turned to face the others and bid them farewell. “What you do next here is up to you, but make sure you rest well. I would guess that you’ve all more than earned it.” With a slight smile she went off on her business, in search of a workshop or depot. She set her sights on a building of brick and glass, one that looked rather like a train station, which was odd since nobody had seen a train track to or from Gerudo Town since their arrival.

The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Prisoner, and the Skullgirl

Location: Frozen Highlands - Dragonspine Foothills
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Prisoner’s @XoXKieroBombXoX

An eager smile briefly passed across Albedo’s face as he slowly nodded his approval of Frisk’s decision, as well as the reassurance it gave Joel. “My thoughts exactly.” When he leaned over and patted the child on the shoulder, his touch was cold. “We’ll get him back before you know it.”

The alchemist then addressed the group at large. “As for how we might go about doing this, I may have a plan of action. Linkle, while I’m sure you want nothing more than to aid in this search and rescue, since you are the strongest of us I would ask you to stay here, and keep young Joel safe from anything that might chance upon the campsite.” Though sympathetic, his expression and tone of voice were also firm. He spoke with the authority of someone who could figure out the best way to get things done, and despite any misgivings on the Skullgirl’s part he would brook no argument. “The purpose of this is so Teba can join us in our search. Since he is the most familiar with these environs, his presence would be an invaluable asset.” His gaze landed on the Rito archer, who looked annoyed at the proposition. “While I know we may not be on the best of terms yet, I urge you to put your suspicions aside, and to think of Joel. We need your help if we are to find his father, and not aimlessly wander until another avalanche buries us, and rob the poor boy of the last of his hope.”

Though he took his sweet time doing it, Teba couldn’t help but to concede when faced with such a potent blend of reason and pathos. “...Fine. Just don’t expect me to save you if you trip and fall off a cliff.”

“I am grateful.” Albedo paid the bowman’s brusqueness no mind as he focused on Melony, who he offered a reassuring smile just like Frisk had for Joel. “And we’ll keep an eye out for your Pokemon, too.”

The trainer smiled bitterly. “I appreciate it.” A second later, however, her expression tightened. “Wait…but how will you find them, if you don’t know what they look like?”

A moment of silence passed before Albedo blinked twice, his expression emphatically neutral. “...Excuse me, you’re quite correct. Could you describe them for us?”

Melony thought for a moment, then complied. “Yes. One is a Galarian Darmanitan, who looks somewhat like an ape, with blue skin, white fur, and a mustache. Answers to the name Gordon. A stubborn creature, but…lovable, and dependable when push comes to shove. The other is Frosmoth, an elegant insect with a pillowy ruff and iridescent lavender wings. His name is Fionn. Though quiet, he is jealously protective, and would always stay right by my side…”

“I see.” Despite the descriptions, Albedo did not seem confident. He crossed his arms. “These Pokemon sound quite precious to you. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come with us, and seek them yourself? You seem like a tough, capable lady. I’m sure if anyone can overcome this mountain, it’s you.”

Already teetering on the brink, Melony was won over by the flattery. She was a premier gym leader, after all; it wouldn’t do for her to sit here by the fire while the others searched high and low for her precious companions. “...Yes, I think I will.”

“Hold on, that means living Joel in the company of this...girl!” Teba objected. “Let’s at least have them both come with us. With four fighters, we could definitely keep him safe!”

Albedo shook his head. “This mountain is incredibly dangerous, and no place for a child. Linkle here has a true hero’s spirit inside her. She would rather die than harm a hair on Joel’s head, or let him come to harm. Isn’t that right?”

For a moment Linkle looked uneasy, but hearing her heroism brought into question bolstered her resolve, and she clenched her fists to give a determined nod.

“Besides,” Albedo continued, “With my plan, we’re most likely to finish this mission and all get home as soon as possible. No more Dragonspine for anybody.”

His gaze landed on Teba as he said this, and the Rito’s complaint froze in his throat. While he did have a soft spot for Joel, and his conscience wouldn’t let him abandon the poor boy, it was true that he didn’t want to be here, doing this. He glanced at Linkle one more time, unhappy about the half-skulls in her red eyes, but ultimately sighed. “...Understood,” he grumbled, before stalking over to Linkle. “But if anything happens to him, I’ll hunt you down. Understand?”

Linkle did.

Melony, Meanwhile, had been thinking, her lips pursed. Something wasn’t quite adding up. Before she could come to any conclusions, however, Albedo rose from the fire. “I’m good to go, so let’s begin. No time to waste.” Melony rose, and since Teba was already up, he seemed ready to depart by default. The Prisoner joined the three without a word, and Frisk made four. Teba set off in the lead, with the rest right behind, and together they crunched up the snow-laden path.

---

In just a few moments the team left the camp behind, but they soon found they hadn’t seen the last of giantwood. The surface of Dragonspine was rocky, with large stone outcroppings piled high with snow, steep rises and falls, and countless dead trees, many of them a lot like the grim copse they just left. What trails they found were narrow, snaking up and down or curving along the mountain’s slope, but here and there the rescuers found traces of old ruins. Some of the more inhospitable climbs featured eroded stone steps, and both bridges and pillars hewn from the rock lay partially hidden under the snowfall. While Albedo kept his eyes out for any clues, he knew that if Joserf could be found this close to the camp, he would have been already. “Any idea where to begin?”

“Somewhat,” Teba replied as he walked on, bow in hand. “Since arriving, I’ve noticed a number of small camps of similar build, all with numbers. Like ‘Dragonspine Camp Six’.”

“Perhaps set up by experienced trail guides so that adventurers could find shelter anywhere on the mountain,” the alchemist mused.

“Right, but there are fewer now than before. At first I could find two, three, five, six, seven, and ten. But last time I checked, only two and seven still exist, and two’s already beneath us. Though, I haven’t gone up to check ten again, I guess. Point is, more and more have been torn up and buried. Too fast and continuous for the storms to have done it. Something’s been destroying them.”

Albedo’s expression was guarded, as if he didn’t want to worry Frisk. “Possibly. Have you found any trace from any campsites? Either from Joserf, or whatever destroyed them?”

Teba nodded. “Yeah, I found a bowl up by site six, plus a note from Joserf. Said it’s for feeding the foxes that kept him company while he went up to reach the peak, and asked whoever found it to use the bowl to feed them, too. What a softie. Who’d waste food like that?” He cleared his throat roughly. “Anyway, that’s where we’re headed. Last place we know he was.”

Well before they reached site six, however, the team found something else. At the top of a snowy path where a handful of autumnal trees held out against the cold, they found the half-buried wreckage of a campsite beneath a trio of strange arches, curved like enormous rib-bones through the air. Along with them were the remains of a ladder that once provided access to the cliff-top just ahead, without which there was no easy ascent. Teba had already taken to the air when he realized the others couldn’t follow him, at which point he landed. “...Right, you’ll need to find some other way up. This is site four, by the way.”

“I was wondering,” Albedo remarked. He knelt over the debris and sifted through the snow. “Have you checked these sites thoroughly?”

Teba shrugged. “Pretty much. I mean, snow’s not good for my feathers, so I just scratched with my feet a little.” Melony gave him an incredulous look.

A moment later, Albedo pulled a piece of rumbled paper from a frozen knapsack, scanned it, then handed it to Frisk. It read:

Nothing untoward happened on the way here. The weather remains fine indeed. It seems that my luck has turned at last. Perhaps I can make a run for the summit after all...I'll just give it a little go. If anything happens, I'll turn back right away.

“Promising?” Melony asked the two. She then looked at Teba. “It makes sense that he would stop at each of the sites in his path.”

The archer opened his beak to respond, but before he could there came a rumbling sound. From the earth clawed a squadron of Draugr, the fractured and warped remains of northern warriors, stiff with ice but burning with hatred. Among them were a couple Hel-walkers, the malignant souls spat out by Helheim to wander the earth as accursed beings. All bore vicious weapons in various states of disrepair, and a snapshot arrow from Teba right into the nearest one’s head failed to instantly put it down. Albedo held out his hand, and a frozen sword grew into existence. “I knew it!” Teba groused.

“Focus on the enemy! Come on, you two!” the alchemist urged as the enemies closed in. He charged toward the undead enemies, leaving a surprised and horrified Melony behind.

Dwarves! Interest Check

This seems like a good old time. I'll keep an eye on it as I workshop ideas for a dwarf.

World of Light

I understand, and nobody bears you any ill will, of course. Just make sure that you're ready to re-commit for the long haul before you intend to join again.

World of Light

The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Prisoner, and the Skullgirl

Location: Frozen Highlands - Dragonspine
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Prisoner’s @XoXKieroBombXoX

Teba's suspicious expression gained an air of incredulity as Frisk spoke up, as if the child could possible have anything to say that might sway the airborne archer when Albedo's best attempt to smooth things over fell short. In fact, all Frisk could offer was uncertain reassurance without confidence, and it left a lot to be desired. With a dismissive shake of his head Teba was ready to brush the kid off before they even finished speaking, but at the last moment he heard something that made him think twice. Frisk volunteered not just their help, but that of the entire party, for whatever ends the Rito might see fit so long as he allowed them a respite by his fire. The fact that his eyes narrowed in consideration told the heat-seekers that there just might be something he needed help with as well, enough to make him seriously entertain the thought of obliging the four even when curt refusal had been on the very tip of his tongue.

He didn't debate Frisk's proposal long, but stuffed the rabbit spirit into his pouch and turned to walk away. After a few steps, however, he turned halfway around and motioned for the others to follow with a flick of his head. Albedo complied, leading his party after Teba at a respectful distance, and aware of the sharp eye that his guide kept on his group the whole time, and the bow that never left his hand. Should he, Frisk, Linkle, or the Prisoner make any trouble he seemed ready to spring into the air at the drop of a hat, a deluge of lethal arrows left in his wake. The alchemist took pains not to betray his morsel of goodwill in any way.

Teba brought Albedo's group through a copse of bulky, misshapen trees, leafless and long dead. Their unusual mass and unsettling contours made it difficult to obliviously pass them by, and it took only the tiniest amount of examination to determine that these were no ordinary trees. Instead, they appeared to be giant corpses, their peeling skin and tough as hard as bark, with severed limbs that terminated in clusters of branches, and bodies pierced by multiple trunks as if grown from within. Eerie and macabre, even more than the grove of dolls that Frisk traversed near Treat's lonesome manor, the gravewood encouraged the visitors to hurry on their way, and Teba picked up the pace accordingly.

Just up the hill from the gravewood they came to a particularly large giant tree, those one crusted over in ruby-red sap with sinister connotations. Nestled as if in its lap was the bonfire that the four came to find, and around it were tents that took advantage of the branches and roots for stable construction. There, the newcomers spotted a little boy huddled up by the flames, as well as an older woman with her arms crossed. The moment she spotted Teba on his way, followed by a bunch of strangers, her expression turned as cold as Dragonspine itself. "...Teba. Who might they be?"

In turn the Rito glanced at Albedo and Frisk, his pointed expression saying that they ought to make their case for themselves. "Just travelers, in search of warmth and rest after a snowman ambush by the icy river," Albedo told them. "Your friend brought us here in return for us offering to help with some unspecified task afterward."

Teba's eyes narrowed, displeased that any words might be put in his mouth, no matter how minor. Before he could say anything, though, the little boy jumped to his feet. He seemed to have a haunted sort of look to him, as if anxiety had been eating away at him from inside for quite some time. "Are they gonna help find dad?" he blurted out, his desperate face possessed of only the faintest glimmer of hope.

The woman pursed her lips, then motioned to the newcomers to come over to the fire. "Sit." As Teba stalked over, she kept her eyes on Albedo and the others. "No funny business either. It's not just us here."

As if to emphasize her point there came a sudden surge of cold wind that flapped the four's coats, hair, and scarves. Albedo glanced around idly, but couldn't immediately identify a source. Whatever these campers might have in store, it would be for the best to make them feel as secure as possible. "Understood, ma'am."

Once he and the others seated themselves by the fire, and the boy fixed them with a pleading stare, the woman spoke again. "I'm Melony. This is Joel, and over there is Teba. Joel's father, Joserf, went up the mountain some time ago, but he did not return on time. Teba has been taking care of him since then, bringing food and such." The archer closed his eyes and looked away, as if the very idea offended him. "I myself was on an expedition with my three Pokemon to the caverns inside the mountain when we were caught in an avalanche." Her expression turned bitter. "When it was all over, I only found...one of them, no matter how hard I searched. And then, when my back was turned, my own partner attacked me! If not for Teba out on a hunt, I would have died. Chased it off, but it must have followed us back, because that night it returned, and Teba had to put it down."

Melony closed her eyes and breathed in. "I'm telling you this to warn you. There's something strange on this mountain. Too many have gone missing. Right now, what we need more than anything is to find Joserf for poor Joel."

"Trouble is, I'm the only fighter," Teba stated. "Can't leave either or both these two alone, and can't risk their lives bringing them with me on a long search up the mountain. If you're actually willing to help, then once you're all warmed up, here's what you can do. Go up the mountain, and find the kid's dad."

Following the explanation, Albedo gave a slow nod and looked at the others. "That sounds like a reasonable proposal. Though we have our own concerns, finding this poor child's father is of critical importance. Do you agree?"

World of Light

Tora, Poppi, and Big Band

Location: Sandswept Sky
Level 9 Tora (225/90) Level 9 Poppi (225/90) Level 7 Big Band (53/70)
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, Raiden’s @XoXKieroBombXoX, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, the Scout, Peacock, Tharja
Word Count: 2188

Things had gotten messy in a hurry between the mad scramble for badges and the frantic efforts of mercenaries and Seekers alike to secure a safe retreat for their comrades. While the sand worms posed little threat even if allowed to leap up directly under someone, the Sabogar pack and their twin Saboquill leaders posed a serious problem alongside their more flowery aerial counterparts, all of them boasting both dangerous powers and troublesome passive abilities, as those who took them on quickly found out. Unlike most of their comrades, Tora and Poppi Alpha dealt low damage but could soak up tons in return, making them best suited for tackling the thorny threat. Despite that, since their mission wasn’t to exterminate the Spectrobes but hold them off while their friends got going, a quick switch to Poppi’s Wind Core had allowed the pair to better keep the creatures at bay while taking minimal retaliation.

The others who joined them on the frontlines didn’t get that luxury. Whenever Vandham approached a Sabogar, his twin scythes eager to clear out some weeds, he could do little but grin and bear it as he fought it back. Luckily the Adult-stage Spectrobes reflected only twenty percent of the punishment they sustained, compared to their Evolved-stage leaders’ fifty, and in terms of hardiness Vandham had them beat. Rather than fight them directly, Shovel Knight strove to bury his enemies or flip them off their feet. Sectonia and Midna went on the offensive too, taking on some of the most threatening monsters around other than the stunned Molduga. With a little help from their friends they managed to squeak out a victory against the Florami and Saboquill, taking their spirits as they then fled to safety aboard the Virgin Victory.

While the Twilight Princess dealt with one, the second Saboquill gave its attention to Asbestos. After figuring out what its deal was, the Savra girl happily stopped attacking altogether, and for all its strength the monster couldn’t penetrate her shield. She continued to alternate between taunting the beast and deftly blocking its attacks until her badge warped her back to the ship, leaving her lightly winded and more than a little disappointed that her fun had come to a sudden end. Band shook his head in disbelief at the rambunctious operator, wondering how someone could get a kick out of all that. Regardless of her methods, a quick head count proved that nobody had been lost in the chaos, and the detective gave a sigh of relief. The fact that the extraction had gone off without a hitch was a cause for celebration, a better end than he could have ever hoped for to the craziest day that he’d ever had the misfortune of experiencing.

For Vibrava

New spirit absorbed:
Sabogar
The host’s legs have become more reptilian, with a bulbous cactus-flesh texture that extends up and over the host’s back. The tail has also gotten thicker, with the same sort of yellow spikes that form claws on the legs. Four round, melon-shaped cacti have sprouted on its back, clustered at the base of the host’s wing behind the head. This spirit confers the Power Hit Reflect, which causes 20% of all damage dealt to the host to be inflicted to the attacker as well, calculated prior to defense modifiers and immunities. This also applies to the vibrava’s owner if both are together. This spirit also confers the Weakness Plant Property, increasing the host’s fire weakness to 4x

For Midna

You have acquired:
Sabo Shield
This shield provides a bit of extra defense and a little bit of extra attack. Because of the spikes, it will damage the enemy equal to the damage the player receives while shielding, calculated prior to defense modifiers and immunities. Merely equipping the shield will not grant this effect though

And:
Mimic Tooth Necklace
When worn, any chest the wearer attempts to open will be unlocked automatically if locked, and also be a mimic. The mimic deals more damage depending on the quality of what’s inside it and behaves as if whatever’s inside it is equipped

After the excitement died down everyone settled in for the trip as best they could. Some went inside in the hopes that a shower or similar facility might be present, but as a dual-purpose troop transport and war machine the Virgin Victory was lucky to even have an onboard lavatory. other than Wonder Toilet of course, who did not appear eager to fulfill his namesake’s function in any capacity whatsoever. Worse still, there wasn’t nearly as much room inside the ship as it might first appear, with much of its interior space split between the sophisticated engine room and a massive deployable cannon from midship to bow. When it came to a shower, Primrose and Midna would have to hope and pray for suitable accommodation where they were headed, but at least they could wash their faces in the bathroom and enjoy the air conditioning in the interior. Sectonia, unfamiliar with the technology in use aboard the Virgin Victory, attempted to get in touch with Commander Nelson via the intercoms he used to welcome the Seekers, but with the communication system offline she received no response from the wall-mounted apparatus.

While their companions took it easy in the hold below, Tora and Poppi stayed up top on deck. Watching the sunset was one reason, but the splendid spectacle they really wanted to see was their old friend. “Vandham!” they called together, jogging over to where the huge man sat against the deck’s railing with the wind jiggling his pompadour.

“G’day!” Vandham greeted them with a coarse smile. “Worked up a sweat there, eh kids?” He wiped at his brow to emphasize the point. With how hard he’d fought both his face and his brawny arms were shiny with the stuff, and when the wind blew across his body it helped cool him down just as well as the airship’s AC might have. Plus, his heaving lungs were glad for the fresh, clear air. No amount of sweat, however, would stop Tora from bouncing straight into Vandham’s arm and wrapping his wings around the guy in a big Nopon-hug.

The mercenary leader just laughed. “‘Ey now, what’s all this, then? Don’t tell me you lot were worried about me?”

“Yes!” Tora exclaimed, squeezing tighter. “We were worried that you going sacrifice yourself for us again, meh!”

Vandham shook his head, a quizzical expression on his face. “There ya go about me dyin’ again, just like back in Alcamoth. I mean, I can think of worse ways t’go, but I ain’t in any ‘urry to kick the bucket or anythin’, ya hear?”

“Sorry,” Poppi told him, her face apologetic. “It just sort of hard to come to grips with, after all. Things not make total sense. We just glad to be back with you, is all.”

“Very glad, meh-meh!”

Their friend chuckled and he tousled Tora’s hair, then reached out and patted Poppi on the head, too. “Well, I ain’t gonna question it. All’s well that ends well, as they say. I’m glad t’see ya again too, kids.”

After a moment Tora pulled himself away from Vandham’s chest and looked up at him, subjecting the man to his trademark unflinching eye contact. Memories of past losses, both distant and recent, swirled in his mind. “If you mean it, just promise Tora one thing, meh! If we ever get in bad spot, don’t stab belly with scythes! After everything Tora and Poppi been through, we heroes now, too! We strong enough to make sure all friends make it through, together.”

A flicker of amusement raced across Vandham’s features, but something else quickly replaced it–something like pride. “Heh. Well, if ya say so. Ya do look a fair bit tougher’n last I saw ya, Poppi ‘specially. So yeah, I promise. Won’t go stabbin’ meself, I swear.”

“Music to Tora’s ears, meh!” the Nopon sang. Vandham invited Poppi to sit beside him and Tora, and with a smile the artificial blade joined him. There, the three settled in to watch the sun set over the ocean together, the spectacular display long overdue for enjoyment in peaceful silence. Nestled between his beloved companion and temporary father figure, Tora breathed slowly, tired but happy. “Tora just wish other friends here to see this with us.”

“Me too, Masterpon,” Poppi murmured. “Me too.” She heard a funny sound and looked over to see her creator sound asleep, too tuckered out from the day’s trials to even see the sunset to its conclusion. Smiling, she made a mental note to pin the memory for later.

---

It was well past dusk by the time that the Virgin Victory set down on the outskirts of Gerudo Town. When the airship slowed down to fly a loop overhead, those who ascended to the its upper deck could get a good look at the desert settlement from above, and take in its unique features. The city featured a main avenue dotted with palm trees, the colorful silks and satins of market stalls illuminated by cheery firelight, and angular sandstone buildings whose rooves appeared to be pools of water that glinted in the moonlight, connected by aqueducts to form a circuit all throughout the city that began at the three great stone goblets that towered over the palace. All this seemed to be enclosed by a high stone wall, patrolled by statuesque Gerudo guardswomen armed with enormous spears and greatswords.

In the end, however, the Virgin Victory circled around and came down about a mile south of Gerudo Town, at an oasis bazaar in the desert. Thanks to the lake the ship could land without having to worry about the stabilizing fin on the underside, and thanks to the onboard short-range warp technology the passengers could teleport straight to the shore without having to worry about getting their feet wet, unless they happened to fancy a late-night dip.

Before anyone disembarked, however, Commander Nelson booted up the intercom to address them once more. “Welcome to Kara Kara Bazaar,” he announced. “As you may have noticed, we did not in fact land at our stated destination, Gerudo Town. To put things plainly, men are expressly prohibited from entering that settlement, for what we believe to be cultural reasons. And yes, that goes for males of all species, not just humans.”

Tora’s mouth had opened to say something, but he promptly closed it again.

Nelson’s explanation continued without missing a beat. “As such, all ladies aboard the ship can hike over and find whatever accommodations they might wish in Gerudo Town should they want. Only one member of the scouting team that came this way prior happened to be female, but she reported quite the incredible assortment of shops and dwellings within. Alas, gentlemen, no need to be envious, for while it is a far cry from true civilization, the Bazaar has everything we might need in order to spend the night, including a general store, and an inn. Be on your best behavior for the locals, and I’m sure we’ll all be right as rain, come morning.”

As the intercom clicked off, it left behind a number of mixed feelings. His curiosity ignited by the prospect of a town full of women and further stoked by the idea that he’d be denied entry because of his sex, a frustrated Tora slouched back down against the railing. Band simply sighed. “Well, there go any chances o’ gettin’ my tin can fixed up.”

Tora suddenly perked up. “Hang on, meh. If friend Band’s machiney bits giving grief, Tora can take a look!”

Band glanced at the little fuzzball with one eyebrow raised. “Ya sure ya got the know-how, li’l man? From where I’m standin,’ it looks like we’re on two totally different wavelengths when it come to tech.”

“No problem!” the Nopon declared. “Tora real whiz when it come to figuring things out, meh! Besides, it only fair that Tora do best Tora can. After all…” Wings akimbo, he closed his eyes and gave a sagacious nod as he huffed. “Us guys need look after one another, too!”

His companion, meanwhile, tapped her finger against her chin. “Poppi wonder if allowed in Gerudo Town, since Masterpon designed Poppi to be female.”

Her speculation overshot Tora completely. “Poppi!” he exclaimed, looking horrified. “Surely you not think to leave poor Masterpon out alone!?”

“What happened to ‘guys look after one another’?” Poppi stared at Tora’s pleading expression for a solid two seconds while Asbestos snickered. “Uh…no, Poppi stay with Masterpon, of course.”

“Hooray!”

A minute later, everyone stood on the shore of oasis, between the water and the path leading toward Gerudo Town. After an enthusiastic cannonball into the oasis, Tora got air-dried with the help of Poppi’s Wind Core and then pulled on his overalls. “Have fun in lady town, friends!” he called as he waved to the contingent headed toward the walled city. Among their number was the Virgin Victory’s pilot Alice MacGregor, who would be purchasing the supplies that Shirogane needed to repair the airship on the team’s behalf. Poppi waved them off too.

As she walked away, Asbestos turned and stuck her tongue back out of those left behind. “Sucks to suck, dudes!” she yelled. The Scout gave her the middle finger, which she promptly returned with two hands instead of one. Peacock joined in on the teasing by waving her arms around like noodles.

Once the others had left, the leftovers huddled up. At nighttime, the desert was actually pretty nice, with no humidity to retain the day’s heat. It pretty much went without saying that the inn would be everyone’s first choice, but someone had other ideas. “Alright gents, there ain’t enough room in there for all of us,” Vandham observed. He, Braum, and Big Band made for quite the larger-than-life trio as they stood together. “What say we grab some tents from the general store an’ rough it under the stars?”

“I have endured far worse. Count me in!” Braum declared, as jolly as ever.

“Beats gettin’ the stinkeye after my two-and-a-half-ton can squashes the hotel beds,” Band agreed.

“Roight then!” The three nodded together, then clasped hands one after another in a display of manly camaraderie, then marched off. Tora waddled behind, appreciative of his allies’ resolve but eager to collapse into a bed of his own, and ultimately split off with Poppi in the direction of the inn.

Ms Fortune

Location: Deep Blue Seaside - Limsa Lominscuttle Town
Level 9 Nadia (18/90)
Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN, Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Sakura and Karin's @Zoey Boey, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Rubick’s @Scarifar
Word Count: 1331

Once she pulled up a chair, happy to place herself by the Cadet even if he paid no particular mind to where he seated himself, Nadia launched straight into her perusal of the drink menu. While any of the many unfamiliar beers on offer sounded interesting enough to give a try, her eyes drifted toward the cocktail menu, where she found her mark. “Tequila!” she exclaimed. “Now we’re talkin’!” As much as she enjoyed a good rum, tequila was a quintessential drink for any self-respecting latina. Well, if popular culture was anything to go by, at least; a stray like herself couldn’t boast of much of an authentic connection to wherever it was she’d been born. But it felt right, and it was hard to go wrong with the succinct list of ingredients underneath the name of the drink she had her eyes on. A double-check confirmed that there appeared to be no price listed, but it would feel weird if she took the time to ask, and it wasn’t like this place was out to ruin her, right?

“One Tequila Screwdriver, please!” she requested of Cerberus when her turn came around. Ace’s order, made directly after hers, made her wonder if he knew just what he was getting into. That he’d enjoy himself she didn’t doubt, since given the name of the restaurant rum was probably its specialty, but if he planned to drink straight liquor without any flavoring or liquid to water it down, things could go south real fast. Maybe he’d gotten the wrong idea from how she downed her own mixed drinks earlier? It took some serious alcohol to compromise a body that constantly regenerated, after all, much more than would be normal for someone of her slender physique. But eh, he’d probably be fine. With how much he ate he had to be denser than a collapsing star, or something.

With everyone gathered together at what amounted to a single table, Nadia looked forward to an invigorating group conversation, even if that took the form of several concurrent chats that popped up and died out all around rather than a single all-encompassing discussion. Before anything could really get started though, she found herself distracted by Geralt. She caught the Witcher looking at her funny again, making subtle pointed motions in her direction. What’s his deal? she wondered. Was something wrong? Maybe she’d missed something while cleaning up after her little run-in with those unsavory locals. He might have noticed a splatter of blood somewhere that she couldn’t, or even spotted the hole in the back of her swimsuit where she’d been stabbed, despite the t-shirt she bought to cover up. Or maybe something altogether different concerned him, and it was Nadia Fortune in whom he chose to confide. Either way, it would be better to get whatever this was sorted out now, before she got comfortable and while the staff worked to fulfill the drink orders. Without excusing herself she pushed her chair back from the table, stood, and followed in Geralt’s footsteps.

The two met in the nearby overhang corridor that led back to the street, in clear view of the others but out of earshot. Rather than beat about the bush, Geralt told Nadia what he figured out straight-up. Hearing his discovery prompted no sign of fear or hostility, but instead a wince of embarrassment. “Oh man, I do?” She tugged on her shirt and pressed it up to her nose for a deep whiff. “...I can’t smell anythin’. You must smell pretty good.” She blinked, her brows furrowed. “Uh, I mean your nose smells pretty good. Or…well, ya know what I mean, right?”

Nadia took a quick breath in and out, involuntarily glancing back toward the others, before she faced Geralt again, leaned back against the wall, and crossed her arms. “But sure, no problem. Cat’s out the bag, as they say. Basically, uh, I was in a big hurry when I left my room today, and I fur-got to lock my door. Miiiiiight have, uh, forgotten to close it, actually…” A sudden itch on her cheek forced her to scratch it as she glanced sideways again, an embarrassed smile on her face. “When I got back, my gold was gone. Purr-loined. Couldn’t let that slide, right? Not only was it a stinkin’ ton of money, but it was from my folks, too. Or their ghosts, I guess. So I went and tracked the thief down to this dingy, scummy bar on the bottom level of the shanties. Ya know, the piers stacked up below the towers. I wasn’t plannin’ on things gettin’ messy, but…” The feral hesitated a moment, then sighed.

“There were a coupla nasty customers. Not just tryin’ to beat me, but tryin’ to kill me. One of ‘em was gonna torture me by choppin’ up my leg, one inch at a time. The same dude just flat-out murdered one of his own when they bumped into one another, ‘cause of Galeem’s thing. Another actually stabbed me in the back while her buddy put on the waterworks.” She twisted around, rotating her head to keep her eyes on Geralt as she pulled her shirt to show the hole in her one-piece, as well as the scar from the knife-wound below. The next moment she was back to normal, the reveal brief but highly informative. “At that point, it was kill or be killed.”

She exhaled slowly, thinking about the more pressing matter that Geralt mentioned. A stab wound didn’t necessarily mean much to an immortal catgirl, but the consequences of her actions, however justified, warranted concern. “As for enemies…I honestly dunno. There wasn’t anyone else in the bar, but even if nobody outside heard or saw anything…and they prooooobably did…word’s gonna get out. I only took out the two scumbags I mentioned before, so that’s five or six free to blab to whoever. In my experience, the authorities don’t give a crap about whatever goes on in the shady parts of town, but maybe things’re different here? And even if the cops or navy or whoever don’t check it out, chances are someone’s not happy. In places like that, everythin’s connected. Like webs in the dark corners of a room. Tug on something, and sooner or later the spider’s gonna come along to check it out.”

Nadia shivered despite the warm air. While she could fend for herself just fine, she knew all too well just how vicious someone could get if one stirred up the wrong hornet’s nest. Crime bosses didn’t appreciate being messed with, to put it lightly. How many more pickpockets, thugs, and thieves frequented that bar, paying their dues to the man behind the counter? And what were the odds that Barth stood at the top of his food chain, despite his claim to the lofty title of Pirate Lord? While brutish and cruel, in a straight fight he turned out to be nothing special, and he lacked the most crucial element of all: brains. That Red Band Rita seemed to have authority over him, after all, but why would their group’s head honcho be whittling at a wood shop right in front of one of the shanties’ entrances? There was no telling what she got herself into, simply because Nadia wished to reclaim what was hers. “Probably for the best we’re leavin’ soon, huh?”

There wasn’t too much more to say on the subject, so the two left the corridor soon too, and returned to the table. Most everyone’s drinks had arrived, but for now Cerberus seemed to be busy delivering bowls of complimentary chips and salsa to the diners around the table, so Nadia had enough time to take her seat and figure out what she wanted before the staff arrived to take the Seekers’ orders. She plopped back down in her seat, took a big sip of her Screwdriver, and began to pore over the menu. “What’d I miss?”

The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Prisoner, and the Skullgirl

Location: Frozen Highlands - Dragonspine Foothills
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Prisoner’s @XoXKieroBombXoX

Even after leaving the frigid avalanche behind, the cold continued to seep into the bodies of the travelers as they pressed onward along the river as it wound and wove to the Frozen Highlands’ northwestern coast. Funneled by the icy river canyon, it blew straight through winter coats and clothing alike. Though slowed by weather-appropriate apparel, that indomitable chill gained ground bit by bit, and what territory it conquered it would not relinquish without an active source of heat to route its offensive. Despite Albedo’s assurance that he would be fine, Frisk continued to worry about his condition, as well as that of the others’. Linkle and the Prisoner might not feel the cold, but without body heat of his own to keep his muscles warm the latter could still succumb to freezing. It made sense, therefore, that the smoke signal of a potential campfire or chimney would get Frisk’s attention.

Albedo didn’t take long to consider the child’s suggestion. Frost had visibly gathered in his hair and on his clothes, even his eyelashes. The cold had even appeared to dull Linkle’s spirit, for she seemed to have fallen quiet ever since the foiled ambush. An odd hypothesis, perhaps, but more pleasant than the possibility of a burgeoning internal struggle with the Skull Heart. “Very well,” he agreed. “We should avoid risk wherever possible. Let’s seek out this fire, and hope that its current tenants are hospitable.”

With Albedo and Frisk at the forefront the group diverted from the bitterly cold river valley and began their ascent past snow-laden bushes, the spindly branches of long-dead trees, and obelisks of ice that cropped up from the ground. They kept their eyes peeled for aggressive snowmen, but the few specimens they found all shied away the minute they caught sight of the newcomers. Other than that they only spotted a handful of musk oxen shoveling through the snow for anything edible. As they drew nearer to the source of the smoke, they rounded an outcropping of rock and alerted a white rabbit a short ways ahead. It turned their way and froze, ears perked up, and instinctively the four stopped in their tracks as well. The bunny was adorable, a contender for the cutest thing Frisk or Linkle had ever seen, but before the rabbit could even turn to flee an arrow whizzed down from the sky and killed it with startling abruptness, pinning its body to the ground.

Albedo blinked a few times, largely nonplussed, and peered up to see a white-feathered bird man descend from above. He landed on the ground by his kill, his sharp yellow eyes narrowed with distrust. “Nearly scared it off,” he told the newcomers, his tone brusque. “What are you doing here?”

“Seeking relief from the cold as we journey along the river,” Albedo told him simply. “We mean you no harm, nor do we intend to steal from you.”

“That’s what they all say.” Unconvinced, Teba kept his eyes on the four as he knelt to retrieve both arrow and prey. His gaze lingered on Frisk, Linkle, and the Prisoner’s weapons, provided they didn’t hide or discard them, and he also couldn’t help but notice that only the Fallen Child appeared to be shivering. “Following the smoke, I assume? There’s plenty of wood around you know, just in case the thought of starting your own fire crossed your mind.”

The alchemist’s expression remained unchanged. “Be that as it may, we were hoping we could rely on another’s kindness. If my friends here were to disarm themselves, would that make a better case for our good intentions?”

Stubborn as a mule, Teba seemed intent on not giving one inch. He sidled to stand in the way, as if to get a clearer shot, or perhaps to place himself between the strangers and something farther up the path. “Only someone with a back-up plan would make such an offer,” he astutely reasoned, his bow not raised, but still held tight. “Plenty of people have hidden powers, and don’t think I don’t know about pocket dimensions. Give me one good reason why I should listen.”

Infactorium: A New 4Xpansion (Overlord RP) [DISCONTINUED]

As it turned out, Faetalis did have something else in mind. Everyone approached the task they'd been given in their own way, several through the lens of pragmatism. It made sense, after all, to forego any special effort when one already owned an item capable of bestowing a human guise, or one could already boast a human appearance. Why wouldn't the more unusually shaped monsters present approach the idea of being stuffed into a human-sized suit with caution, even if Mae herself just accepted the impossible as a matter of course for Supreme Beings, without thinking? In their best efforts to accomplish their objective in as sensible and efficient a manner as possible, however, it seemed as though the Overseers missed out on a crucial piece of their master's assignment: her intent.

Mae crossed her arms -an impossible feat in her typical form- and developed a pensive expression as she ruminated on what Faetalis had to say. Like some of the others, she'd assumed that her boss simply wanted them to be disguised. To that end, the obvious choice was to select a skin from the grisly spoils of bygone victories, which magic would then allow them to inhabit. When she remembered a way to disguise herself without needing to sacrifice one of these trophies, Mae had been all too pleased at her own supposed cleverness, not realizing that she'd missed the mark. The hidden horror's simulated eyes went wide, mirroring her true self's thoughts, as the corrective words of Faetalis sank in. While she didn't immediately grasp the meaning of everything the Supreme One said, she knew in an instant when she'd messed up. Just being disguised in some way wasn't important; it was how that mattered. Suddenly the Witching Veil seemed like a cheap trick, a stop-gap solution that didn't actually address the issue. Like cooking in a bucket instead of a pot, just because she saw a bucket first.

Moreover, these once-glorious husks weren't hers, or any Overseer's to take. It soon became apparent that the much smarter Overseers were just as mistaken as Mae. As Faetalis continued to explain, however, things didn't necessarily become clearer. She wanted the members of her Raid Council to not look around, but within. Mae blinked a couple times as she looked down, trying to see what Faetalis evidently saw in her, although all she ended up seeing at the moment was her human guise's bosom. A 'Human', inside her? During and after the Guild's more high-profile invasions Mae had a bunch of humans inside her, whether minced, ground, juiced, baked, or raw. It had been a long time, however, since mankind had been on the menu, so she somehow doubted that was what Faetalis meant. But then what did she mean? Unlike her Maneaters, who at one point had been ordinary people before succumbing to their unholy, mutative curse, Mae had never been human, at least as far as she knew. As a Great Old One, she existed as a ghoulish monstrosity wholly beyond the ordinary world, a fearsome deity borne of gluttonous depravity whose hideous flesh made mockery of the human form, of the depths to which their sin could lead them. Maybe...that was what Faetalis alluded to? As Great Old Ones went, Mae did sit comfortably at the tamer end of the spectrum, far less cosmic and incomprehensible than her more 'outer' kindred, as far as she knew. Maybe, instead of a pretty form chosen for Mae, in order to cover her up with a much more appreciable veneer, her boss wanted a human that is Mae, or at least what she represents.

Or maybe that was all just a bunch of hogwash. Mae did feel a little hungry, and nothing distracted her from the monumental task of critical thinking like an empty stomach.

Either way, the headless horror did feel like she had a slightly better grasp of what Faetalis wanted. Her glamour watched, and her blindsight scanned, as her master finished her great work with a flourish and slipped on her new flesh like a jacket. In just a moment the deception was complete, and a totally unfamiliar human stood before the group of monsters, a pretty little thing that smacked of none of the Conquering Technomancer's genius or ambition. Mae couldn't even feel her pressure anymore; there wasn't a single trace of the slightly oppressive 'gravity' that naturally emanated from a Supreme One to weigh down upon lesser beings, such as herself. "Dad-gum!" she breathed, re-evaluating any detail for even the slightest hint of a flaw in the disguise, but just as she expected she found none. "Well, butter me up an' call me a biscuit, that's one downright immaculate costume there, Lady Faetalis!" She then internalized that her boss was cold. Somewhat sheepishly, Mae removed her Witching Veil, and in a matter of seconds the lovely chef ballooned back out into her true, abominable form. Promptly she removed her sleek, dark brown Night-lined Mantle and offered it to Faetalis to drape around her shoulders like a cloak.

No longer possessed of a head to emote with, the great ghoul stepped back and put her hands on her hips as she considered what to do. This place wasn't supposed to be a boutique where the Overseers shopped around for a good fit, but a tailor where they could get the perfect fit custom-ordered. As far as Mae could tell, the 'human' Faetalis asked for wasn't what Mae wanted out of those available, but what she wanted, period. But what did she want? It was a dizzying question. Right now, she mostly wanted a snack, and failing that, to be back in her kitchen cooking something, since that was what she enjoyed the most. But she also wanted to do a good job for Faetalis, of course. And that meant showing her 'innermost soul'. But what was that? Mae felt like she was thinking in circles, getting nowhere. "I don't got the INT for this," she mumbled to herself in resignation. What did Canology Mae want out of herself?

Try as she might, she could think of nothing she wanted more than to provide for her Guild, to make meals that could satisfy body and soul, then send her friends off with full hearts and all the boosts and buffs they might need to do their jobs. As fun as terrorizing that expedition had been, she possessed no particular bloodlust or grand ambition, other than to obtain fine ingredients for the craft of exquisite dishes. Of course, any who threatened her kitchen would soon find themselves on the menu, and she did feel a little ashamed that she'd never earned glory for her guild on the field of battle, but was that what she really wanted? ....No. Let the others pillage, adventure, scheme, and conquer; Mae would be here to get them ready when they left, and to welcome them home when they returned.

A vision sprang into mind--either hers or that of Faetalis, or maybe both. A woman, somewhere in her mid-thirties, at least. Quite stout, but nowhere near as much as Mae herself. Possessed of ruddy, ordinary features, chestnut-brown eyes, crow's feet, and wavy, mousy brown hair, pulled together in a ponytail over one shoulder, covered partially by a white cloth wound around the top of the head. Dressed in a simple forest-green overdress over an ankle-length smock, yellowish in color, and sporting a well-used apron and rolled-up sleeves. Hers was a face that could be found most anywhere, whether in a tavern making beds or doling out food and drink to weary travelers, in a farmhouse over a roaring stove after a long day's work, or at market bargaining for the freshest meat and produce from the countryside. This sort of face belonged to countless mothers and wives, and it was one that just about anyone would happy to see, for it belonged to someone who knew how to take good care of you. Not someone who would ever change the face of the world, whether through war or politics, or who would earn the admiration of heroes or kings, but someone who ran a tight kitchen and kept a good home, beloved by many and respected by anyone with a lick of sense. There could be no doubt about it; for all of Mae's monstrosity, and despite the Witching Veil's glamour, this better represented who she really was.