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Lilian Rook     The scuffle at Yono was a depressing event to log off on. Though the issue of players struggling through Derivation Bridge being attacked has been nominally solved, the outcome was good for nobody. The exchange was depressing, no questions were answered, and the possibility of an active mastermind currently manipulating the experience of small subdivisions of players has only ostensibly increased.

    Worse, it's started to become clear that the purpose of allowing the Elites to keep gamified versions of their realistic capabilities was never to grant them their god-given role as superpowered heroes resolving the crisis; on a one-to-one basis, many of them were significantly outmatched by a gap of thirty levels and three gear tiers. The true goals of allowing special permissions for certain players, and elevating others with special opportunities, in this theatre of mind that must ultimately conform to the ruthless self-improving grind of videogames, are even less clear, and more dangerous.

    There's little goal left --in service of actually resolving the crisis; there's plenty to do in-game-- around Yono, but to leave and explore the rest of the Ancient Lakes area. Elym and Fucil have both scouted far out to one of the exit points that loops back around into the area (in)accessible from Beachhead; the third point in a triangle. There is, of course, a dungeon in the way, the Lakefont Boundary, but getting through it is an inevitable necessity to finally opening up the sealed way in Beachhead to allow some of Clef's population to resettle without grinding through Derivation Bridge; a dungeon that has already claimed over ten thousand lives in the in-game weeks people have been tackling it.

    By now, you have a solid grasp of the area; you don't have any solution for navigating the fog besides a couple of Elites who were lucky enough to carry over extrasensory Traits, but the threat level of random monsters and anomalies is low enough to get by as usual. The bamboo gives way to maple and cherry which then gives way to grass and reed wetlands, and then finally rises from the water table into mossy rocks and loamy paths steadily uphill, going backwards against the widening of a river until your footsteps are drowned out by rushing whitewater. You see the high cliffs surrounding the crater lake close in by their dim suggestion cheating the draw distance, looming from further than you can see anything else.

    Where Derivation Bridge had you arrive at a collapsed wreck oozing filtered water from its subterranean ruts, the area notification of Lakefont Boundary crossing your HUD with a sound of ethereal bells greets you with the sight of white marble, blue glass, and bronze rivets and bands, like the ruins closer to Clef, worn smooth by water and choked in glistening moss and berries grown in only that perfectly aesthetic way fantasy art allows.

    The water thunders from overhead, coming down in a gigantic waterfall that ostensibly splits the area in half as its landmark, giving the entire structure the appearance of an enormous dam. However, the exterior is adorned with an intricate sprawl of walkways, platforms, ledges, balconies, ingresses and egresses, that are cut into the stone, hang from chains, and move with the slow churning of bronze waterwheels, with the falls as its centerpiece around which the routes curve and jacknife. The entrances on the ground level are several, using rounded white stone doors held slightly ajar by wild overgrowth and packed mud, lined up like different entrances to a maze, but all of them aiming down into the ground.

    There'd be a little time to scan around, if it weren't for the sound of screams, misting down from up above. You think you can see hitsparks through the mist.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants      Phreak has taken the journey here wearing, in addition to his gear, a determined scowl, his golden eyes like smoldering coals incapable of appreciating even a shred of beauty in the intricately crafted surroundings. It remains, through bamboo thickets, forests, tromped-through wetlands, up slippery rock-strewn paths.

    The fights on the way, with roaming monsters, are conducted with a kind of quiet, seething undercurrent of residual anger and a swift brutality that sees him leaning on his physical stats just as much as on his hurlant-focused Traits, much more aggressive and up-close than his usual. It's as if he's satisfying himself against them, for lack of any immediate, more desirable closure.

    Bercilak is less seethingly angry, and more thoughtful--the events of the last time weren't lost on him, either, but of the two, Phreak seems to have taken it worse. Whatever goes on in their heads, however deep the internal workings may run, both of them are sharply called to attention by the screaming. They share a brief glance, before leaping into action.

Phreak: Verse - Wraith
Bercilak: Proof of Bond - Velvet Ghost

    The party screen shows sharp dips in Clarity for both of them.

Someone's in trouble.
I'm not gonna get fucking embarrassed again.

    The Velvet Ghost is a deathly pale stag, slightly see-through, as if made of fogged glass, filled with silver swirling threads near the surface in place of visible veins, with enormous velvet-covered white antlers, fractally forked instead of grown as proper tines, and eyes that shine faded yellow. It is large enough to be called large even in comparison to the Green Knight, and frighteningly quick at navigating the intricately altered sheer face of walkways, platforms and ledges.

    The steed leaps from platform to platform with Bercilak at the reins, fearlessly navigating wet and slippery walkways alongside Phreak. Whereas the steed, owing to its size, makes a zig-zag up the surface, Phreak himself makes an aggressive approximation of a straight line, becoming a grey-brown blur as he races up waterwheels and even hanging chains, a strange visual distortion settling in around him.
Rita Ma      Rita can't resist saying goodbye to the NPCs who've been so sweet to her. She even gives a couple of them hugs. Even if they're not real people, it'd feel wrong not to reciprocate their sweetness, right?

     But when the bustle of the town gives way to the quiet of the road, something nags at her. It spoils the scenery: the natural beauty ought to soothe her, but it doesn't. She keeps tapping at her hologram-like chat window like a vaguely moody teenager texting on vacation.

[To: Fucil, Elym] Rita Ma: Hey v_v
Rita Ma: Thank you so much for your help the other day.
Rita Ma: I'm sorry we weren't strong enough to make it work out.
Rita Ma: I still feel like
Rita Ma: It was worth it to try, right?
Rita Ma: So thank you for supporting us.
Rita Ma: Even if maybe you shouldn't.

     The screams are almost a welcome distraction; something to break the introspective quiet again. The chat window disappears around the time she startles and gasps. "Oh- up there!! Look! Someone's in trouble!"

     Rita breaks into a sprint towards the Lakefront Boundary's facade. Her eyes are already planning out her ascent: she'll hop onto the balcony there, grab the vines there, scamper up with an assist from that brass chain, and-

     Rita jumps, makes grabbyhands above her head, and falls about eight whole feet short of reaching the very first balcony. She tries a couple more times before visibly drooping. It's been just long enough that the adrenaline could make her almost forget.

     "Um, a little help, please?" She puts on her best pleading smile as she turns to look back at the rest of the party. The affected sweetness can't quite plaster over the embarrassment and frustration.
Ishirou Ishirou walks with the group, his own mind lost in his own thoughts.  The previous encounter was...something.  Bad.  Something that was worse than bad, they tried to get through to them, but couldn't.  They couldn't win on equal footing...honestly, it just feels like the situation went terribly rather than it ending more in a standoff.  Those people, he felt, were being taken advantage of as well.  

How much would it crash down on them if they really perceived the truth, that they were killing innocent people..?  Maybe that's the reason why, that they couldn't accept it as truth.  Ishirou rubs at the side of his head, even not really noticing the change in the scenery until he heard the scream.  

Snapping awake, he looks up, trying to hear how close it was, but really only has time to indicate...well up.  The armor is summoned as this version of POD disappears, replaced with the steampunk armor, looking more like clockwork than anything.  Of course, this is right as Rita can't jump up.  He pauses, staring at her for a moment.  

Then he offers his shoulders as a seat before jumping out and flying towards the sound, hitting the island for a bit of a boost, all the time trying to use his enhanced senses to piece through the mist and try and figure out what was going on.  Then he just can send that back to others.
Eryl Fairfax     There's only so much land you can clear and tents you can make.

    In the end, Eryl's campground is only a bandaid. Yono cannot be allowed to become a second Clef. People need to keep moving out to make room for players coming in. Thus, the next dungeon must be cleared.

    And so Eryl puts on his armblades and loads up with smooth stones for his sling in what feels like the first time in forever.

    But more importantly than those is several blank books he bartered from Yono and other players. He hangs back while Phreak, Bercilak, and others deal with roaming monsters, drawing a map on the pages from Yono to the Lakefront Boundary while also cataloguing the threats that parties may face on the way.

    Once they arrive, he starts to do a rough sketch of the waterfall and surrounding cliff and walkways when the sound of screams and hitsparks ring out. The book is put away and he's off in a dead sprint when he sees Rita trying and climb up and failing. Changing path, he runs over and puts his back to the cliff, bending his knees and cupping his hands together to form a foothold.

    "Get going, I'll catch up," he says, going up the path like a normal person once he's boosted her.
Friz Savvy: Relieving pressure on Clef is important.
Moxie: We're just... trying to look like we know what we're doing now.
Dirt: Those people did need the way forward, bud.
Grit: They won't survive much longer.
Moxie: After the lakeside fiasco we should be *leaving*.
Grit: The harsh judgment of the tribe makes that a non-option.
Grit: I've had enough of you both.
Moxie: Augh, fine! Stop giving me those weird *shakes*!
Savvy: Grit it's hard to focus when you do that.
Grit: Do your jobs.

    Friz looks kind of miserable. She's gathered whatever stimulating consumables she can, and downed them aggressively. She hasn't even been working all that hard, she just seems *drained* after that fight with Lavis and Vermilion. Her combat, leveraging a new understanding of how to burst vulnerability into strikes with her pistol, is impeded just a little by a shaking aim and a distinct lack of energy. The sound of screams gets her attention though.

Dirt: Think I'm seeing rendering artifacts of combat.
Dirt: Sound too.
Moxie: God-- alright, going!
Savvy: It looks like we'll be a bit before we can get there.
Grit: Take it in a paced way. Slow is steady, steady is fast.
Moxie: Someone's dying up there, though!
Grit: Correct. If you slip, you'll lose more time. Save them.
Savvy: Maybe I can get a good approach.

    Friz looks around in quick, jolting motions, eyes rapidly flicking as she tries to adjust no-longer-extant glasses. Watch the water. Watch the mechanisms. Make the connections.

Savvy: If I can figure out the mechanisms, I can find the shortest path up.
Dirt: Alright, boss, I'll get you all the info I can.

    Whatever the shortest path her highly attentive senses and analytical mind can find may be, she's struggling to take. But she can only take it with a human's capabilities, and she's still impeded by her badly battered emotional state. The loss against the bandits weighs her down.
Rita Ma      "Oh! Thank you, Mr. Fairfax!" Rita brightens immediately. Really, he understands what she wants; the least burdensome amount of aid, something that feels like a kickstart instead of full handholding.

     Once he boosts her up, she grabs the balcony railing and hauls herself up with a little 'hup' of effort, beaming down at him with gratitude and salved confidence. Next, she just has to grab those vines and...

     Wait, no. It wasn't just the first step she was struggling with. That's still terrifying.

     When Ishirou rises to her altitude, she accepts the full piggyback ride with a hasty and embarrassed nod. Feeling like she did something at least halfway by herself gives her enough self-worth to tank the hit of accepting.
Petra Soroka         Weeks earlier....

    Petra reclines in the pilot seat of the Kana, contemplating the modified headset resting on her thighs. Days of preparation went into this plan, and now, on the precipice, she's filled with quiet, vibrating energy. She's in the most private place possible; the Kana, locked away inside of the space station that she only shares with Remee, and Remee knows very well not to interrupt Petra's "me time" inside the Kana.

    Last time Remee opened the hatch without asking, Petra unleashed a torrent of swears at her, and shouted something about chambering silver bullets if she ever pulled that shit again. It's Petra time. Not Petra and Remee time.

    Petra's hands shake with nerves and she grips the headset tightly, but doesn't put it on yet. She mentally runs through the preparations one more time, just to reassure herself it'll work out. She used a disposable Watch phone to ask an asset to ask an asset to pick up an unmarked package and dead drop it for her to pick up. There should be so many layers obfuscating the fact that Petra has a safe Bladecraft: Connect system that no one could trace it back to her. No one knows she's playing. She can do anything she wants.

    Still trying to slow her heart rate, Petra flips through the notebook where she sketched out various concepts. Up in the top corner there's scrawled descriptors of personality traits to keep in mind. Earnest. Supportive. Compassionate. Confident - (but know limits). Scribbled designs for how to best portray those traits visually, to prime people to expect them. It was extremely hard to find any information on the game online--both because there never was much in the first place, and because the vast majority of coverage has been about how the game kills people, rather than the mechanics and setting of the game that kills people, so the designs lack any fantasy trappings.

    Petra smiles lopsidedly to herself, alone in her silent cockpit. It's a little funny that this is what finally got her to draw again. It's like she's making a reference document for a character she's roleplaying, "But that's nerd shit." She finishes her thought out loud, then slides the VR headset over her eyes.

    The transition into the log-in zone leaves Petra on edge, tensed up as if in preparation for some threat to jump out of smooth tiles and round-edged white tech. She takes a hesitant step towards the floating keyboard, then another, more confident. She shakes out her hand. It's harmless anyways, right? Just a little indulgence. I'm still helping--they're still getting help with the mission. People are still getting saved from the game. Petra hovers her fingers over the keys, then starts typing.

        S T E R L I N G      S M I T H
    Are you sure? Once selected, your username cannot be changed.
         >Confirm
Petra Soroka         Now . . .

    Ever since moving out of the space station, she's spent as much time being Sterling as herself. Days spent inside the Kana's cockpit, cycling aimlessly through remote towns in various worlds to make sure no one recognizes her, with a dwindling number of friends to contact, means that she rarely has a reason to see sunlight outside of doing missions. So instead, she passes the time progressing in BC:C, working to catch up with the already present Elites, and, of course, just enjoying her time in the death game.

    On the day that the Elites return to log back into the game, Sterling advanced ahead of their trajectory, conveniently placing herself in Lakefront Boundary to intercept them by happenstance. The goal is, as Sterling imagines it, to greet the group as herself, meeting them for the first time, and integrating into the team as another Elite-tier hero. It's not that weird. It's just in the game, and nothing really matters in a video game.

    Sterling travels alone. Hearing the screams and clashing of weapons, she purses her lips, and with surprisingly little hesitation, the armored girl hefts her hammer, slams it into the ground, and vaults up the cliffside, jumping between platforms with heavy tremors that dissonantly barely make a sound, while carving her metal bootprints into dirt and marble alike. It's only once she's at the top, oversized hammer grasped confidently in both hands as she confronts the threat, that the thought passes through her mind--I hope the others show up soon to see this.

Sterling Smith Level 10 HP: 427 CL: 88

    The player before you, solitary and nevertheless confident in her stance, is a somewhat tall girl with brown hair streaked with grey, at odds with her youthful expression. The most notable thing about her at first glance, is her armor, sturdy and well-crafted, and upon brief inspection, crafted by the player herself. The huge hammer gripped in both her hands, its head comically large in the anime-styled way, has some sort of jet propulsion system opposite the face of the weapon, presumably to add force to its swings. Next to be noticed, though, are the small visual quirks that appear on Elites in BC:C. Poking out of her armor is a long mouse tail, matched by brown twitching ears on her head. Placed neatly between those ears, directly on the crown of her head, is a spinning radar dish. On her neck are two red pinpricks, like vampire bites.

    The curvature of her body is somewhat visible due to the way her armor plates are custom-shaped to fit her. Confident, tall, and a good ass.

    The arrival of the party behind her startles Sterling, despite being briefly lost in thought considering that exact thing. Her tail flicks in surprise and her ears twitch, and she whips around with the jumpy expression of someone expecting to be attacked from behind. Sterling's eyes widen in recognition at Eryl, Lilian, and a brief, suppressed facial contortion at Rita, but she quickly hardens her expression into caution.

    "Paladin cosplayers? I haven't seen you all around the area before. I'm Sterling." Her weapon doesn't lower, and her eyes flicker to where the sounds come from within the mist. Her intent is to come across as wanting to investigate the battle sounds, but being careful about turning her back on the unfamiliar players.
Eryl Fairfax     Eryl is the last to pull up, owing to stopping to help Rita, and taking the most straightforward way up possible. It's a designed level still, and he lacks the toolkit to start speedrunning. But when he does arrive, he's stunned to see a solo player of all things.

    "Not cosplayers Miss Sterling. I'm the real Eryl Fairfax, here in my capacity as Grandmaster of the Paladins investigating the death game currently ongoing. These are all Elites also. We intend to get everyone out of here." Letting his sling unfurl, he drops a stone into its pouch and begins whirling it, just fast enough to keep it ready as he looks past Sterling to the enemy mobs. Showing her that she can lower her guard a little, that someone else has an eye on them.

    "I'm quite amazed to see someone playing solo this far into the game world. For most, that would be a death sentence. We're doing our first foray into this place to get to the zone beyond. Would you care to join us?"
Lilian Rook     "Don't burn through all your ammunition already. This isn't a gunfighting game." Lilian montones at Phreak near to the goal. Having secured no less than four good-quality leather mini-bags from Yono and equipped them to her lower back, belt, left and right pocket slots, she merely drones at him while visibly flicking her fingers through her HUD menu, making the Trade Request pop-up appear in the corner of his vision and offer him four stacks of twenty four iron slugs. "You know those things are heavy, right? And expensive." she says, without putting any enthusiasm into it. Not everyone is privy to the wildly skewed buy/sell prices she'd found at Yono.

    "Don't make me tell Bercilak to keep his twink in line. We have enough difficulty with ours." Okay. That came with a tiny smile. One could swear that her little baby antlers are . . . more, than they were. There's a little fork in them and everything. Did the lily grow a little too?

    Rita giving the NPCs hugs goodbye sees her Composition of Breath tick up its grade-increase bar by minute degrees, after the fifth or sixth. There is no UI to tell her why. Her message window fills simply:

Elym: No sweat. We'll catch up soon.

Fucil: Remember, our 'friends' are about solidarity and collective action! Don't think you've seen the last of us! >:)

    At the sound of the scream, Lilian jolts out of distraction too. It's actually a little odd, seeing her react milliseconds after, instead of milliseconds before. "Take care of her Ishirou! No theatrics!" she says, as he picks up Rita from Eryl's handhold boost. Then she grabs him herself, around the waist, saying "Apologies, Grandmaster, but it'd be a betrayal of the Code to leave you climbing up behind us, so please hold on!" The tell flashes in her iris-halos the instant before she disappears with him, leaving a short light-streak in place with a burst of fading wind particles.

    Friz's frantic analysis draws two paths, and the fact that there are two at all stands out as important somehow. She can see the way the openings in and out of the dam wind and connect together, with paths and ledges looping through and between them, woven like laces through eyelets, requiring a mixture of indoor and outdoor progress with moderate parkouring and probably labyrinthine navigating. She can also see how someone with patience and platforming skill could simply use the architecture to clamber right up the direct way, taking that ramp there, shimmying across this protrusion here, falling onto the platform as it orbits the waterfall, and--

    Her outlines the shapes strewn all over that route for her, clean modern white like her HUD, but standing out like chalk. The holographic overlay of recently defeated creatures, along with death timers ticking inside info flags pinned on them. Enemy level, damage dealt and type, overkill amount, party size of killers, drops found, rough respawn proximity. Someone did just that. Right up that easy path. And now they're under fire. It's clear of enemies for now, if she wants to risk it.
Lilian Rook     The battle is taking place far up enough in the mist to be unreadable from afar, but closing in, player names and status indicators, as well as that of multiple enemies, appear from the fog at distances corresponding to PERception and the Scouting skill. Four players, loosely grouped, on a wide marble square platform, its center all blue glass that has largely shattered as an ambient hazard. A fifth player is practically glued to another; their HP is zero, but they don't appear to be dead. They're being attacked by what read as Godfont Herons, nine in number, each-- level twenty-five enemies?. Over a thousand HP and half as much CL each. Bright blasts of fire flicker in the volumetric fog. A player's CL bar drops from half to empty, and their HP singes down fifty points.

    'Sterling' arrives from the other side (even better), but quickly finds that there are only small, untenable moving ledges around the perilous arena, forcing one to be far away or inside of it, without the power of flight. The Paladins (and Rita) arrive amongst a swarm of giant snow-white birds, trailing long streamers of black feathers, studdied with fiery eyes, taking turns swooping down on the beleagured gathering. Each pass rains down a linear hail of searing bolts that pound against the upraised shields of a pair of level twenty players, that two more lightly armoured are expanding all their Stamina to dodge.

    One of the giant monsters swoops down just enough to stomp a shield-user --the zero HP player is . . . unconscious? over his shoulder-- beneath its claws, guard-breaking him, and then start to carry him away in both claws. It shrieks an alert when it detects Ishirou first; it's beak splits two ways instead of one, matching four burning eyes studded equally around its head. He sees a cooldown timer with his analysis, indicating that a Summon Reinforcements ability is still on forty-five seconds of cooldown, and had failed to trigger upon seeing him, but six of the nine peel off to engage the Elites.

    There's nowhere in particular to stand besides the same killbox. The Herons are only partially damaged. Flight rapidly burns CL at this altitude --it increases the higher up you are?-- and the AoE warnings only show their radius as early as any given Elite has the COGnitionand Tactics scores. Being hit by a single firebolt isn't the end of the world, but multiple at once simply tears right through the starting armour practically everyone is still wearing, hitting for hundreds of raw fire damage that dings Clarity regeneration to a steep pause that lasts uncomfortably long. The less superhumanly strong members don't have the STRength scores to deal with actual melee and grapple attacks, chunking Stamina by the triple digits just for blocking. They have low defense only for their tier; it's still equivalent to the miniboss of Derivation Bridge. And there are nine of them.

    Lilian asks Eryl only "Where?" when arriving, herself not wanting to fight in the air, paranoid of that drain. Upon seeing 'Sterling', her eyes basically only flick to her level. She says in an ordinary, business-tactical voice, all sharp accent and otherwise-focus, "I have my blue checkmark right by my name. Where's your party?"
Friz Dirt: Sighted another player. Nice ass.
Grit: DANGER.
Savvy: What? What kind of danger?
Grit: THE DANGEROUS KIND.
Savvy: Should I ask them about--
Grit: DANGER.
Savvy: Okay.
Moxie: Let me focus on the movement!

    Friz rushes to follow the path. She's starting on the desperate climb, when something shocks through her.

Savvy: STOP!
Moxie: Augh! What now?! You told me to go!
Savvy: Dirt says these guys took the long route!
Dirt: Sure did, boss.
Savvy: But the threat up there is way too over-level!
Savvy: Something inside, on the *normal* path, that should lower the strength.

Moxie: But we'll be even slower! You *said* to go fast!
Savvy: We're worse than useless punching up.
Moxie: And that's what I fucking said before!
Savvy: Please, just-- at least let *him* do it!

    Friz stops, literally skidding, panting with exertion already, glancing around fast. There's signs of a proper path and signs of a fast path. And she has something that can scout the shorter ones quick.

"Rogers. Take the long route, *please*. Help me figure out what we need to do...!"
"Gonna be a problem if I hit something that hurts a ghost, kid."
"I know. Please."
"Not gonna turn you down out here trying to save lives. See you soon, kid."

    While she continues on her short path, the phantom shape that follows her splits off, surging intangibly and invisibly through the proper path, trying to hustle through hazards therein to scout out which parts of the interior might contain a countermeasure that Friz can use to deal with those horrid white birds, maybe something to limit their health, reduce their level, or strike a weakness...
Ishirou This is... incredibly deadly.  The encounter was incredibly lopsided, and it's good fortune that they came when they did or these people would be very fucked...not that they might make a difference.  Ishirou hits the ground to let Rita off near the injured, then draws the clockwork rapier from his weapon cache.  

He marks the one with the summoning ability that isn't up but already has to avoid being fired upon in massive numbers.  The armor will give him some added defense, but he doesn't want to waste it if he doesn't have to.  He soars up, burning the clarity...

Lilian did mention they don't know how the weapons on this thing work yet...so...

"Well, here goes nothing.." he says and activates the two shoulder cannons, and fires down toward the ground.  The aim is to try and start burning the summoning monster before its ability comes back, or they will be truly fucked.  He also starts edging around the battlefield, aiming to try and split the monster's attention at least a little.  

"Please be fast Friz.."
Rita Ma      While on IShirou's shoulders, Rita finds a moment to tap-type at the window again. It's probably to distract herself from the fact that she isn't on solid ground. For all her acrobatic prowess in the outside world, in here, she's holding onto him almost uncomfortably tightly.

Rita Ma: Thanks. (^^;)
Rita Ma: I look forward to it.
Rita Ma: Be careful out there, okay?

     Flight costing Clarity is a bit of a surprise; once she figures it out, Rita charges up her Clarity-'healing' composition and pours the blue energy into Ishirou, letting him stay in the air a bit longer.

     When he gets near enough to the assailed party, she dismounts him with a little stumble, conjures a green glowy sphere into her hand, and- hesitates. Do healing compositions even work on someone who's hit zero? "Don't worry!" she announces, the vibrato of anxiety in her voice making it less-than-reassuring. "We're here to help. Is there anything you need?"

     She ends up throwing the healing orb to the downed person first, then girly-runs towards Sterling while fumbling for her gun, eager to take cover behind someone taller and better-armored before she can become the focus of those fireballs.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants >Don't burn through your ammunition. It's not a gunfighting game.

    "Yeah. Okay," is what Phreak says on the surface. Hollow and just as monotone. Beneath the surface, it goes something like I'm pissed off, alright? Let me beat up on these pieces of shit. It's mixed in with a tangle of emotions he knows well enough are toxic--the idea that something more than the fight was lost, which he can somehow get back, in some small measure, by aggressively trying to steamroll NPCs. He nevertheless accepts the trade request.

>Don't make me tell Bercilak to keep his twink in line.

    That tangle of emotions inside him flares up, about the same time as Bercilak barks a laugh despite his pensive demeanor thus far. "Those two shitheads with the System-sauce did that just fine," he tersely responds. The racket in his head wants him to do more than just that. Fucking assholes. When the fuck is it my turn? To skip the line. Don't tell me you're not tired of it.

>Paladin cosplayers?

    "Nah. Not us," Bercilak--display name showing as xXSir_GrabahanXx--doesn't have much to say, merely motioning with the thumb of his free hand between himself and Phreak as he races past on the Velvet Ghost. There's even less of a response from Phreak.

     The two split up immediately. "YO! Focus on what that guy's shooting!" Bercilak motions with a swipe of his axe to Ishirou. "If you can't reach it, form up on the ranged guys and keep 'em from getting got! Heals incoming from my twink!"

     "Fuck you, Berc," calls Phreak, nevertheless bottoming out the rest of his Clarity to throw up heal-over-times onto the lower-HP players present.

     Bercilak activates the Ghost's Air Step ability to chase after the Heron Ishirou has indicated, herding it with broad swings of his axe, the grip loosed almost all the way down to maximize the weapon's oppressive reach. If he can trick it into flying close enough, or otherwise catch up to it, he'll have the Ghost use its Diamond Gore ability. Otherwise, he attempts to call up Solar Rebuke to see what that's about.
Eryl Fairfax     There's more, and they're in trouble.

    Eryl's implants out in the real world wind up as he analyzes the waterfall basin and the Godfont Herons. Their level is absurdly high, they come in packs, they call reinforcements... that is on cooldown, but not for long. They need to be handled, spread out, and quick.

    Thanks to Lilian, his mobility is absolute. Keeping one hand on her shoulder to steady himself, a plan comes together. They use fire as a ranged option, and crushing talons up close. He can neutralize both while remaining on the offensive.

    "Put me behind the waterfall, in a place with clear angles on their flight patterns. Ishirou, keep marking them as you attack."

    Once Lilian drops him off in position, he spins the sling up to full speed, takes aim and fires right through the plummeting water to hit one. The sharp crack is drowned out by the thundering water, and he has to aim high to compensate for the waterfall's pressure affecting the stone. But if they want to come at him, they'll have to either fly through the waterfall, which will likely leave them too sodden to take off again, or attempt to awkwardly navigate around it, giving everyone a clear target.
Petra Soroka     "Oh, my mistake." Sterling's face softens into an impish smile, though her hammer doesn't waver from its defensive position. "Paladin LARPers. I guess I can't blame you, though."

    Sterling takes a step back, to more fully catch the foes and Elites in her cone of vision without turning, then convulses with a rough cough. She puts a fist up to her mouth--then quickly shifts to cough into her elbow instead, hacking painfully. Each cough spews out a cloud of black soot, providing context for the baked-in black mark in her inner left elbow.

    "From what I've seen, it has been a death sentence for most, *Grandmaster Fairfax*. Despite my efforts." Sterling pauses, absorbing Lilian's unique marker and seeming to briefly consider whether she's talking to the actual Eryl Fairfax. In reality, she's struggling to keep talking after noticing Lilian's skimpy MMO armor and aesthetic transformation.

    "Um." Sterling's ears twitch, and her nose (entirely un-mouselike) scrunches up. "I haven't seen that symbol before? Are you actually Paladins? Is there a verification symbol for that?"

<J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, "Ms. Smith, can you protect me?"
<J-IC-Scene> Sterling Smith says, "Are you just wearing high-tier clarity gear glamoured to look like starter trash, or something?"
<J-IC-Scene> Sterling Silver hastily says, "Actually--nevermind. Not important. Just get behind me, it'll be okay."
<J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, a little miserably, "I haven't had much time. And there's not much point, so..."
<J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, "Okay!"

    Sterling seems reinvigorated by being given this task, her caution melting away in seconds as she positions herself in front of Rita. Internally, she's already bouncing up and down with nervous excitement, but she rubs a gauntlet knuckle into her cheek and tries to focus.

"Where's your party?"

    "I don't have one. D-Dame Rook". Sterling stumbles over the title, and tries to convincingly play it off as slowly melting doubt. "I travel out alone. I--didn't always." The lie slips easily out of Sterling's mouth. Her breath hitches for a moment, a delayed reaction to trapping herself into that unplanned narrative. She turns towards the herons and hoists her weapon, letting that comment stand on its own until later.

    A heron looses a firebolt near Rita, and Sterling, tense in anticipation of showing off her skillset, swings her hammer in a wide overhead arc, crashing into the ground and using it to launch into the air like a pole vault. The minimal flight boost drains her pathetic Clarity only slightly, and momentum carries her up to intercept the incoming blast with an uncontrolled arc. She twists in the air and spins in a full 360, the jets on her hammer explosively roaring to life, and smashes the heron's attack into embers.

    Her hammer and the gauntlets gripping it heat up red-hot and her health and Clarity dip slightly, but manageably. She hits the ground with a earth-shaking and quiet thump, her feet digging nearly a centimeter into the earth. Sterling looks back at Rita with a goofily proud grin, just a little bit too familiar.

    "Get those players to safety, right? We're not fighting to the death, here." Sterling attempts to block attacks and send talons recoiling when the herons swoop down, though she doesn't stray far from Rita to defend the others.
Lilian Rook     Rogers splitting off is rapidly discovering 'the actual rest of the dungeon'. The combination of indoors and outdoors, close quarters and dizzying gravity, seems intentional. What he finds is a labyrinth that is much more orderly and sensible than Derivation Bridge's decay-based maze kayfabe, but actually far more expensive, if one considers it vertically. He passes by huge pipes of crystal clear water seemingly unrelated to the waterfall itself, levers and cranks attached to valves and archimedes screws, sub-levels of each floor that fill from the floor above and drain to the floor below, shifting which areas are explorable, swimming up high or walking down low, and whether the aquatic monsters he sees beneath, or the flying monsters he sees roosting in the complex, primitive gearworks overhead, like an ancient clocktower, have territory.

    There's not a chance he'd scout an entire route. Not in this short time. But a spot where the players skipped by on the way up has a water puzzle that would redirect flow to the exterior; out one of those ports that serve as doors on the ground level, and fill the current arena like a basin, in addition to propelling the small platforms around it. Dubiously useful. Not a lot of options though.

    Rita conjures up her very first Composition. A breath of air that tastes of sweet freshwater forms the orb as usual. Her target assist is able to select the unconscious player, where she sees Oirin ~ Lv: 21 ~ HP: 0/628 (-201) - 38% Antiheal. In the process of casting, she sees the negative value rapidly increment to 210, and the Antiheal value increase to 39%. The negative value slowly decreases as her Composition takes effect, but the percentage still gradually goes up. Antonio ~ Lv: 20 recognizes what she's doing, and rushes over, shield held up high, hissing under his breath as the fireblast pounding causes blood voxels to shoot from the joints of his arm.

    Laying the downed player at Rita's feet, then turning to shield her. "She's been under Swan Song for a couple of minutes now. We're out of pots. Don't you have anything else?" he says. "Whatever it is, I'll pay you back. Please. Just get her to zero." Phreak's own heal over time is enough to help Rita close in on erasing that negative value, but 'over time' is difficult; as the percent climbs, the less effective the healing gets.

    Ishirou unleashing his weapons fire sees that the answer is a mixture. His beams use his CL, but his missiles use ammo, which he doesn't actually have. As it stands, the RESCUE-equivalent is on a very limited timer, like high level gear he doesn't really have the stats for yet. His blasts deal solid Brilliance damage, which he sees is a real problem; the Godfont Herons have high resistance to it and Flame, but more importantly, though their Resistance values --percent reduction-- are sane, the enemy hidden equivalent to armour Hardness is much higher --the flat damage that is taken out at the end of the equation-- excruciatingly punishing the previously safe strategy of wearing down the enemy with sustained, suppressing fire. He scans them as being weak to Blunt and Lightning, as well as Poison, Bleed, and Amputate statuses. He only even knows the latter two because of Vermilion.
Lilian Rook     Calling it out does make the Velvet Ghost a pretty even fit at least. It's the optional miniboss of the previous area, and tougher than the herons individually. Diamond gore collides with one mid-air and puts it into a Lock state, as the impaling horns sinking into its body with angry red visual effects constitute a grapple, carrying it away. Still, when the monster strikes back with its tremendous beak, Bercilak realizes how severe the gap is; his armour blocks a whopping sixteen percent of Pierce damage and shaves off eleven flat damage overall. That was nice when enemies dealt 150 raw when he facetanked them. It's different when they hit him for 700.

    Lilian deposits Eryl exactly where he asks. He appears to be outside of the aggro range, and is left alone, checking step one. His aim assist traits, showing him the glowing path of his stone, show very sharp deflection when aiming through the waterfall, but he can make the shot. Tagging a heron throws off mainly blue Clarity sparks; his penetration is massive decreased for the maluses of long range and ostensible stealth. It does, however, cause it, and two near it, to turn and retarget, firing a barrage of fire into the waterfall that might deal thousands of damage if it all hits directly.

    But the gamble is informed. The two colliding creates a great cloud of steam, blending seamlessly into the white mist generally all around the area. Eryl notices concealment status indicators pop up, along with a temporary Flame Resistance buff for being covered in water. They dive after him next.

    What sticks out is that Sterling's risky hammerblow cuts through a heron's CL like butter, chunking off half its remaining HP with a quadruple digit damage attack. Blunt weakness, physics calculations favouring decisive speed and momentum, close proximity, but also the damage values of her gear are quadruple that of the party's meagre starter equipment. The remaining couple of players scramble over to form up around her and Rita, as well as their conscious and unconscious teammates. Sitting down stationary, a faint audio cue, ethereal deep brass, plays as the two shield-users adopt nearly identical crouched stances, shields angled, and gleaming with a subtle light. Two notes of frenetic soprano strings sound as a third with a bow equips four arrows to hand simultaneously, and rapidly strings and fires them in a short stream, puncturing the flank of the heron pinned to the Velvet Ghost's horns and finishing it off.

    Lilian skips by the three charging for Eryl and lands near to the bird pinned down by Ishirou. Heaving her claymore up high, she leaps off the raised edge of the arena basin and cleaves through its neck-- that is, cleaves into-- the sword stops on simulated bone, much to her surprise as her feet jarringly hit the ground. What had decapitated previous monsters instantly only deletes a third of this one's health, and embedding the blade against its struggling causes it to awkwardly thrash and fire blind at her and Ishirou until its health drains away to zero. She blocks one of the stray firebolts, but instead of an invisible tick to her CL, it cuts through and removes a full bar pip, slowing the regeneration.

    "Hey! Hit 'em with a Measure already! Or at least an aggressive Composition! Come on!" the archer yells. "What the fuck are with those mounts?! Get down here!" yells one of the shieldmen. "If they run out of gas or retreat while you're up there, you're gonna fall and die!" Someone joins in Sterling's exasperation. "What is that gear?! Hello?! Never mind-- fuck! Some of them are retreating! There's just four pinning us down! Go go go! Let's get out of here! Back down! Back down!"
Ishirou The armor isn't helping, now that he has enough data on the bird things.  With a sigh, he at least knows more of the limits of this thing...but where is he going to find ammo..?  Problems for another time.  

He lands the armor and disengages, which causes it to fold up back into POD and causes it to hang near him again.  Rapier in hand, he considers his position on the battlefield.  Lilian won't need help and likely can keep the Grandmaster covered.  The people here on the other hand likely aren't going to last long if the remaining birds keep them pinned.  

So he skirts the side of the battle, waiting for Sterling to strike, before he dives in again.  His blade flashes in a flurry of thrusts and stabs before he flips back and unleashes a blast of electrical energy from his hands.  The style of fighting is a combination of magical attacks and fast strikes with the blade, trying to keep his enemy off guard by cycling them.

"Just keep striking, I'll coordinate with you!" he calls to Sterling.
Rita Ma      For a moment, Rita forgets fumbling with the safety on her 'hurlant' just to gawk. When Sterling looks back at her, she might as well have sparkles in her eyes. Crushingly, it's a deeper and more awestruck admiration than she's ever shown for Petra. "Where did you learn to do that, Ms. Smith?? You're so amazing!"

     But the downed player soon catches most of her attention. She crouches down next to Oirin with urgency; her gun is set aside, demonstrating full faith in Sterling and Antonio to protect her. A second glowy green sphere starts to form itself between her palms. As long as she doesn't take hits, she can keep this up for a good long while.

     "Anti-heal. Is that because she's down? Will Clarity help? I've never seen it before," she says to the two 'senior' players, acutely aware of her own incompetence. What kind of healer doesn't even know what happens when someone goes down?

     "Don't you have anything else?"
     Her face draws in a prolonged flinch. Her voice is a little rough. "No. This is all I have."

     As soon as the second heal's discharged into Oirin, she starts charging up a third, but looks to Sterling with a pleading grimace. "Do you have any potions, Ms. Smith? Anything?" If someone dies because she's just too useless...
Rubi-Kan Vagrants      "NICE!" Bercilak's fiery eyes light up with elation despite the harrowing damage to his health pool, when the Heron the Ghost had gored is dealt with. He coaxes the mount back down to ground level, because he's a lot better at dealing with criticism than Phreak is. As it happens, being down there means he can add his own heal-over-time pulses in an area around him.

     "God fucking damn it I am so SICK of this shit!" Phreak spits, hurriedly looking through his context menu. "I'm sick of catching up every fucking time I log in! News flash, fucko--I'm not in these rags for a goddamn fashion statement! Here!"

Phreak: Chord - Scoundrel

     The moment his Clarity ticks back up, Phreak sends out a runspeed buff, intending to assist in getting the other players clear--or at least into a more favorable position.

     Keeping a tight formation with the players on the ground, Bercilak switches the grip on his axe to midway up the haft, sacrificing range for more impactful blows. Though his regeneration can't outpace repeated powerful strikes from the remaining Herons, he's hoping to use the extra force from his choked-up grip to coordinate an 'Amputation' status with Lilian.
Petra Soroka <J-IC-Scene> Sterling Smith says, "...Right. So I'm guessing you all just made a particularly unlucky choice during the weekly Paladin game night a month ago?"
<J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "...No, I'm really Ishirou."
<J-IC-Scene> Friz makes a strained noise.
<J-IC-Scene> Friz says, "Something like that!!"
<J-IC-Scene> Sterling Smith makes a small noise, then coughs, spitting up more black ash.
<J-IC-Scene> Sterling Smith says, "Yeah."

    Sterling, as a player trapped inside the game since day one, wouldn't be able to imagine another option. Assuming the Elites were telling the truth, something that she's seeming to slowly warm up to, it's plenty believable that they all coincidentally logged in on opening day, to be trapped along with the rest. So she has to play into the lie. It still feels a little bad. But a little exciting, too.

    Sterling glances at the downed Oirin, and lingers on the ground for a moment. She digs a hand through her hip pouch, and pulls out a healing potion.

    "Take it. On me. If you need another, I've got another." Sterling's blacksmithing was hardly profitable enough to call lucrative after material costs, especially with her shameful Trade, but potions were a necessary splurge when she was traveling alone. Not anymore, though.

    Rita's admiration is warm and bitter in near-equal measure. Sterling struggles to put up a smile, takes a breath, then smiles more naturally, with a tinge of affected smugness. "I've just been working hard, I guess. I don't think I've caught your name, by the way...?"

    Sterling bites her lower lip, the thoughtful gesture framed perfectly ambiguously so it's impossible to tell whether her front teeth are magically elongated to match her ears and tail, or if it's just perspective. "Hey. Don't worry about your gear, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I'll... make you some? After?"

    Sterling nods to Ishirou, then turns back to the remaining herons. She rolls the haft of her hammer between her hands, flipping its face around so the jets are aimed into the sky. "Heads up!" With a squeeze of a magitech-looking mechanism on the handle, the wide jet cones on the back of the hammer explode, firing fist-sized missiles spiraling into the air to explode above the herons, knocking them closer to the ground with concussive force.

    With the group of birds closer within reach, Sterling crouches down and readies her hammer, then charges, getting just enough airtime to strike a hammerblow directly downwards on a heron. The hammer cracks against its back, followed by the heron slamming into the ground, stunned or defeated. Sterling preens briefly, and her cockiness is immediately cut short by a talon swipe into her face.

    Where the talons strike Sterling, her face cracks and splinters, two-dimensional patterns of fractal breakage spreading across her cheek. Within the cracks is glittering pearlescence, rather than blood, and no liquid leaks from the wounds. Sterling squeals, then whips around for a retributive blow, jumping back to return to Rita's vicinity.
Friz "Puzzle here. Moves out of the dungeon."
"Alright! Where?"
"Channel at the basin, moves the water out."
"I can't tell how that's going to help!"
"No clue. But it does something. A good detective's gotta have hope."
"Unless you found anything better, I've gotta try it...!"

Savvy: Shift paths! To that puzzle!
Dirt: I don't have a guide there.
Savvy: Moxie, figure it out, get us there!
Moxie: Ugh. Fine... I'll run us to that puzzle.

    Friz's mad clambering and jumping takes a new direction. She stops, looks around quickly, and then tries to plot a fast path from where she is to that puzzle. How is she going to solve this though? It's a puzzle! In a water dungeon! Those things take forever.

Grit: We don't have time for this.
Grit: Death is faster than creativity.
Savvy: We don't need to be *creative*.
Savvy: Every puzzle is a broken configuration of a system.
Savvy: Dirt, cue up the repair stuff.
Savvy: I'll get Rogers to be a spare pair of hands.

    She rushes to it, baton blazing to strike out at any foes enough to stun more than to try for kills right now. Her footsteps take on an eerie glow and leave behind gleaming footprints as she musters her mental acuity for repairs, trying to get as many hints as possible for the puzzle. When she crashes into it, she should be able to yank levers, spin valves, twist screws, and crank, um, cranks, at maximum speed, shouting at Rogers for extra help through an extra pair of hands.

"There's no way this is going to work...!"
"Whoever's in charge of this doesn't pepper this thing with ambush-killers."
"What's that mean?"
"Something like this? It's influence. Spectacle. A punishment for the wiser ones, a warning that says, 'go off my beaten path and you won't benefit from my mercy anymore.' Safety held hostage. But follow the path and isn't it funny how things turn out okay?"
"I hate that."
"Me too, kid."
Eryl Fairfax     It all works as Eryl intended. Multiple birds exhale their fire bolts towards him, only for it to be extinguished against the waterfall. Now those will be on cooldown, totally wasted. Indeed, the billowing steam and mist now gives him a concealment bonus according to his HUD. But how to use it?

    No doubt that the ones who attacked him will be alert. Most likely, that will give them a bonus against his concealment, so picking a new target will be optimal. The four still on the other party would be the best bet, but there's a risk of missing and hitting one of them. The aim assist helps, but the waterfall...

    Within the mist, Eryl moves, emerging from behind the curtain of water while remaining low. His sling spins and fires, aimed towards the herons still harassing the other group. He puts extra oomph in it to draw out a loud, sharp crack from the sling, immediately breaking his concealment, practically yelling "I'm over here!"
Lilian Rook     The shielding players cluster over Rita and their downed companion. Antonio and Bellari ~ Lv: 23 yell over each other to make themselves heard. "Seriously?!" "Don't!" "Same as the beta test!" "Endurance skill perk! Thought everyone would have that now!" "Neg HP builds up faster the higher it already is! Once it hits neg max you're done! Antiheal builds up over time by CON! Get her back up to zero and she'll be unconscious for ten minutes or so!" "Faster you get to the the better!" "What do you mean you don't have--" "No healing items?! Really?!" They gasp in relief and profusely thank Sterling when she produces the delicate mini-decanter.

    The ground turns red all around, but Rita can see a wedge-shape from the two of them cut away, that includes her and Oirin in it. The shriek of the heron telegraphs the bombing run. The fireballs themselves are scorching and deafening, simulating prickling heat on Rita's bare skin with alarming clarity, but she notices that the damage the two take through their shields is much lower than when they were running around. They'd, of course, be doomed if they just sat there normally, but there's a strategic reason to do so. The spike of healing from pouring the Elixir into Oirin's mouth (the game doesn't care about swallowing, really) spikes her negative into manageable territory, piggybacking off of Rita's effort. The Velvet Ghost coming down to ground sends Bercilak's healing aura into the formation, and finally Rita sees Oirin's health creep up to zero, and then start slowly ticking into the positives. The Antiheal freezes at 40%, and fades grey, inactive, rather than disappearing.

    Given that Bercilak is now slowly healing up Antonio and Bellari (did they name themselves as a group of friends or something?), they call for their archer and their currently helpless 'I fell for the assassin build' looking companion to follow after. A single, faint metallic semi-note plays as they disengage those stances, and start running under Phreak's buff, Antonio carrying Oirin as they go. They huddle together in a tight turtle pack without stepping on each other. Another heron swooping down on their trail is perforated with another burst of four arrows, mostly taking off the half of its CL it'd regenerated, in time for Bercilak hits it with the axe.

    It doesn't feel like he necessarily hit a much harder target, but the way his blade lodges in the virtual meat feels somehow 'dense', as if 'a tough cut' actually applied to his level of strength. He sees the HP bar flash red and drop off to two thirds from the nasty impact, but the enemy's flinch animation is very understated; much less of a dramatic 'please hit me' compared to the mobs before. Lilian appears behind it, possibly reading his mind, and crouches low enough as she approaches that the sword coming from her shoulder revolves fully around and slices through both legs, leaving glowing red gore-lines rather than dismembering.

    It loses another third of HP, and rears back in snakelike telegraph, then begins wildly kicking and stoping and pecking. Each heavy blow makes Bercilak's body feel weirdly sluggish while absorbing the impact, as if it takes an instant for all the force to flow through him and into the ground, like a kind of soft-hitstop. Most of what Lilian parries only ticks at her CL, but one peck to the flat of the blade finally shaves right into her HP with the bleedthrough, visibly shocking her at the first taste of simulated pain. It's hard to get a clean strike in through, requiring a few inelegant hacking chops between the two to take it down.
Lilian Rook     The 'missiles' in use here are as jankcore as the firearms, spraying white hot exhaust with a kind of rattling unsteadiness that brings to mind punctured fire extinguishers escaping into the sky. The explosions are gritty and smoggy and filled with dull fire, like black powder, and batter their targets with Tremor damage and Concussed debuffs. Ishirou's rapier easily finds their weakpoints while they're slowed down and their sensory radius shrinks dramatically from the debuff, and their damaged CL allows his rapier to sink up to the middle repeatedly, causing the heron to flinch from aggregate damage, but even then, one wing snapping out clips him for an easy two hundred and some physical over the slightest mistake; parrying it seems to have a malus for his low weapon tier and the mismatch of his stamina to the damage, barely halving the damage. His starting gear his paper. His HP is lower than Lavis and Vermilion had. It's his skill as an Elite and little else keeping him alive. This is true for practically everyone else here.

Fortunately, he's not in too much trouble. The archer follows suit after him, a single string note-sound ringing out sharply as an arrow flies by with a stylistic whirl of windshock around it, puncturing fully through the heron, and then as Sterling capitalizes on the opening made from the opening from the opening. The seamless stringing together of their attacks, back and forth, is tremendously effective; the final blow lands with unusually high damage, putting the hulking monster into its death animation. However it spares neither him nor Lilian nor Bercilak from "What the fuck are you doing?!" "Use something already!" "Forget the basic attacks oh my god!"

    The group on Eryl banks wide around the waterfall and pursues as he parkours away. The sling stones peel the last two away from chasing the escaping party, but now he has five on him. His Original Face isn't quite the same, but feeds him the AoE well in advance of basically anyone, showing the ground around him painted red in overlapping warnings he has little prayer of actually escaping from. The Flame Resist buff on him is modest, but significant, scanning at twenty percent, but the heat of the fire blasts that land all around him sucks all the remaining time out of it immediately; it's enough to survive with, dangerously low, if he stands his ground, or enough to escape with damaged HP and some CL remaining if he puts his all into evading.

    What matters most is that Friz cuts into the puzzle from the outside, going backwards, and thus skipping the (easier, probably) encounter meant to be blocking it. Sucking the metal and scrap out of her small inventory, the pipe puzzle completes, and she witnesses enormous bronze-gilded canister-vats of water begin to empty out before her. The dam wall opens up and sprays its payload out over the arena. The broken glass means it'll drain out over time, but for now, the pool should logically give fire-cover like the waterfall did. Furthermore, the herons themselves are now Debuffed to Lightning by being wet, amplifying their extant weakness, and the party is similarly Buffed against Flame, which is their primary attack.

    Lilian finally picks up Ishirou's tactical advice, being the only person with access to that particular element innately. The magical circle that appears when she invokes it in weaponized form is different, outlined in the now-familiar Everse colour of the Split and beyond, rendered with fantasy runes that are little more than squirming mosaics of writhing glitch pixels. The flash of lightning illuminates everything but the bolts, traced out stark black empty space. Shooting six in quick succession drains her entire CL bar, but the crawling tendrils of chained-effect bounce back and forth around the five heron V all conveniently bunched up on Eryl, and wipe out their damaged HP with the combination alpha strike.
Lilian Rook     The XP appears to be split between the multiple parties, even though it's shared internally amongst the Elites. It'd normally be nearly enough for an entire level for most of them. A rolling list of drops includes faded godfont down, faded godfont talons, and a rare fulgorous eye.

    Hurrying down to the nearest ledge; a long balcony that passes several doors in and meets a sharp ramp, the group of players finally stops to catch their breath. Antonio puts oirin down against a fluted marble rail and collapses, all of them blinking with flagging Stamina bars and yellow HP values. "God. That sucked." "She nearly died." "This is bullshit compared to the beta test." "Yeah, looks like the devs figured out the cheap shortcut." "Patched. Rip." "Thank you so much." "Yeah we were completely toasted." "How far did you run? You just barely got to Yono, right? You have zero gear and you're all out of consumables. Just finished Derivation Bridge?" "Yeah one of you's got no ammo and it looks like none of you even learned any Compositions or Measures except-- Rita, there."
Ishirou Ishirou drops down, his sword catching the beak and barely managing to parry, but the difference in gear and stats causes him to stagger...while it reduced it, it wasn't very effective.  Thankfully, he had a backup in the form of the archer and Sterling.  Thankfully, the battlefield changes, making the encounter dramatically easier.

And Lilian's lightning smashes through the birds, letting the group retreat back.  Ishirou follows through, landing with the other party and disengaging again.  "God that was awful..." he agrees and sits down.  Though when the talk of compositions and measures comes up, he decides to look through his own abilities to see what he's been missing.

He didn't see any notification for these things, so did he have any?  If not, he shrugs to them as if to say 'I don't have any'.  "I just have what I started with...gear wasn't exactly forthcoming from the dungeons except in the form of mats, and that still requires someone to craft...and everyone at the first city was..." he shrugs.

Apparently, they're now hiding who they are again?  This is confusing because the parameters of the game are changing all the time!
Rita Ma      Conversation is a nice way to distract from the guilt of being a burden. Charging her compositions takes time and effort, but not a lot of focus. "Oh! My name's, umm..." There's a bit of hesitation. What if she recognizes me? What if she thinks I'm pathetic? Wait, isn't it displayed anyway?? But Rita chokes that down with a sincerely vulnerable smile, which would make her easy to trust if 'Sterling' didn't already know.

     "Rita Ma. Thank you so much for helping me, Ms. Smith."

     Her smile gains undertones of feeble bravery at the offer of gear. "I don't know if that's a good use of your time. Even with it, I'm going to be pretty useless. But... thank you."

     The yelling from the other playergroup makes her cheeks burn hot. Her hands shake just a little as she pushes the third heal into Oirin, then applies Sterling's healing potion. "I'm- I'm sorry," she says, almost certainly lost amid the din of battle. They're not judging her, she consciously knows. They're just urgent. Or scared. Or frustrated.

     But it still feels that way.

     Rita heaves a sigh and slumps onto all fours when Oirin is finally back in the positives. None of her bars are critically low, and yet she feels exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, even a little physically. How would she have felt if Oirin had died because she wasn't good enough? She doesn't want to contemplate the dodged bullet. Only grudgingly does she haul herself up onto her feet again and follow the rest of the party.

     "Oh. Ms. Smith. You're hurt," she says with dull fatigue as they all catch their breath. One more healing composition to mend the shattered face is easy: the stakes are lower, now, and so the act of helping steadies her a little instead of fraying her further.

     The group's implicit praise warms her a little too. She squirms in place, hands folded tightly. "Yeah. We're trying to get through things fast. Where should we get more compositions, do you think?" Then, embarrassed that she's asking a stupid question: "Wait, what's a beta?"
Rubi-Kan Vagrants      When the fight is over, Bercilak desummons the Ghost and utters a sigh of relief, following the near emptying of his health pool. It's not a sound he finds himself making often, much less the emotion associated with it. Of the two Rubi-Kans, he's definitely the more social--Phreak is sulking with his back against the wall.

     "We haven't really had much chance to gear up, if I'm being real with you," he says with a frown, stroking his beard with clawed fingers. "Like... most of our money was spent on supplies, and we've really just been trying to unfuck the whole Clef and Yono situation." He scuffs a starter-armor boot against the ground.

     "We've got crafters, but again, we blew a big wad of what we had trying to get one over on those two that were robbing people. But... they had a lot of levels on us, and numbers didn't really matter for much."

     Phreak scowls. "And now here we are," he says bitterly. "Behind again. I don't even know what the fuck Compositions and Measures are. I miss real life. When I could just point the goddamn guns at shit and make it go away," he says. It elicits an uncomfortable grimace from Bercilak.
Eryl Fairfax     The risk is calculated, but the odds aren't good. The Flame Resistance buff is a decent percentile, but that's five of them converging on him, and the combined fire bolts of two flash-boiled a large volume of water. Eryl runs along the cliffs and leaps to and from the hanging platforms when he sees the AoE markers appear before him, overlapping in a way that leaves no safe space. But just beyond that is an entrance to the cave interiors, so he keeps running, diving, and tucking into a dive and roll just as the flames impact.

    The explosion launches him, the flames eating up his buff, but he goes tumbling into the relative safety of the caves right as Lilian takes them out. Coming out battered and the light of his halo dimmed, but alive.

    "Well done everyone," he calls, moving to convene with the other party. "Ahaha... yes, I'm afraid other things have eaten up too much of our time. I've been co-ordinating with the beginnings of a guild, and creating a campground in Yono to accommodate everyone coming through Derivation. But, did I hear correctly that you played the game while it was in beta?"
Petra Soroka     Assisting Lilian with dispatching the rest of the Herons (!!), Sterling keeps a careful eye out while retreating to take Oirin and the other Italians to a safe respite. Defensively bringing up the rear, Sterling considers loading up her hammer with her handful of electric-based charges, but decides against it, keeping to aggressive melee strikes.

    Even though abusing the elemental weakness would keep the parties safer / make her come across as more prepared, she's already demonstrated some level of skill, and plans on sticking with the group now. And besides, crafting gear should put her in their good graces forever.

    Once safe, Sterling bites her lip then smiles with thanks at Rita, her eyes unable to properly focus on her. "It wasn't that bad. But thanks, Ri--" Sterling hesitates. What's the most effective way to refer to Rita? Calling her Rita is familiar, and neutral. She knows the reasons why Rita is so polite even to her younger peers--is it better to push that boundary right now, or respect it? Will it agitate Rita, or make her more friendly? "Thank you, Miss Ma." Distance. A little cold, and polite, but kind. They don't know each other.

    Sterling turns to the other part, lips twisted into a defensive pout. "Hey. Don't rag--don't get mad at them. We're safe. That's better than most. And they're actually out trying to do stuff, which is also better than most. Cut them some slack."

    "Well, believing that you guys actually are the real deal, I'd be willing to help you all out with that. With the armor." Sterling pauses, running through possibilities in her head. "I was almost one, too, at one point. So it's funny that I ended up in the same place as you all, anyways."
Friz Savvy: We did it!
Dirt: What did we do?
Savvy: We did it!!

"They're kicking that thing's ass out there now, kid."
"We did it! What did we do?"
"Rained on a parade. Cold showers on people who thought they were too hot to handle. People like whoever's in charge of this... when they show their control off, they like to say, 'Welcome to the real world. The real world is where you have to do what I say, and everything else? Everything you want? Unrealistic.'"
"God, that's bleak. Is that your real psychoanalysis of whoever made this?"
"Maybe. Not yet."

Dirt: Alright, we've gotten out of the dungeon again. New problem.
Savvy: What's that?
Moxie: How do I get back without adrenaline?
Savvy: Grit, anything left in the tank?
Grit: Sleep.
Savvy: Wait.
Grit: Sleep.
Moxie: No!! Take that one back!!

    Friz wanders out of the nearest opening on the dam-structure and takes a huge swig from an energizing consumable, as if it were going to fight off a poison. It's energizing enough to get her the motivation to clamber around and then into the basin, finding a platform or waiting for the drainage. "I'm coming! I'm here too! Hey!!" She calls out, stumbling and struggling. "Space jesus, I'm sorry I wasn't here (I had to-- uh, puzzles), I had to go do that thing." She flashes her badge while panting with her hands on her knees. "Detective... hhaahhhhh... Detective Friz, Bladecraft Volunteer Department! And-- Paladins Chevalier. Is everyone okay?"

    She looks like a mess, her medium-armor coat sort of slung over one shoulder since she had to shed it momentarily for mobility, clearly exhausted with trying to keep up with the elites and not being able to reasonably ask for piggyback rides. Eryl Fairfax's question gets her perking up, scrambling to get out her notepad and then fumbling with it, nearly dropping the thing.

    "If you're all alright, I'd like to do some interviews, after everything's settled! I want to get a gauge on how you more-experienced users have been doing. And, uh, it'd be a huge help if you could spread some of the knowledge around, I suppose! The Volunteer Department needs leads on good gear sources. *I* need better gear..." She fidgets nervously with her badge. "But that's not so important. Did the beta tests ever mention... 'Constructed Consesus', 'Collaborative-Artgumentative mode', 'Iconic Characters', or a 'Prime Conductor'?"

    She starts with her most important questions, but continues on with all the usuals: Have you or anyone you know experienced character creation anomalies? Player versus player violence? Any knowledge of the game master? Distortions or anomalies? And so on. But it's not just the beta testers! Sterling Smith is getting that attention, notepad held like a dowsing rod whose coil detects a secret. But no: Just sincere interest in exchanging aid and finding information.
Petra Soroka     Sterling blinks and looks taken aback by the intense questioning from someone she genuinely doesn't know. Shimmery, grey-tinged blush blooms in her cheeks, and she's gripped with the very possibly real fear that she can't answer every question properly. Sterling is overtaken by another coughing fit, ash hacked up from her lungs.

>Character creation anomalies?

    "Um. If you include all this, I guess? Is that what you mean?" Sterling gestures to her ears, and her tail wraps around her body to demonstrate its presence. She knows what the other Elites experienced, from reading reports. Honestly, it's a relief that she got the same treatment too. Validated by the death game.

>Player versus player violence?

    Sterling takes a moment to respond, remembering her allusion to having previous teammates. I should come up with names for them. "Yeah. Yeah. What about it? People act like animals when they're trapped."

>Game master, distorted anomalies?

    Sterling can answer this one confidently. "Not a clue!" Her eyes track over to Lilian, and then quickly flick away, looking at the ground nearby her. "What, is he a friend of yours? Giving you special treatment? What's your aim, actually?"
Lilian Rook     Rita (well, anyone) can see the Rest status under the horizontal slit of Oirin's status bar. The timer is ticking at 8:53. There'll be time. Her gentle breathing is reassuring. Medical care in general is reassuring when you can see the patient's life juice rendered in graphic user interface.

    Antonio looks at Rita with a pained expression (up close, with his sallet pulled up, she can see that swathes of his face are tinted blue and a little iridescent, and his pupils are a little squashed sideways. People are already grabbing up Traits). "Yeah. Yeah we all want to go home. I get it. But this game was pretty tough back during the test, too. Nobody got past the second city. It's even more dangerous now. Plus the metagame changed. Swan Song from the Endurance skill tree used to be kinda niche; it was usually better to just respawn, but now you don't get to do that. Everyone should be taking it right now. And they patched the speedrun strat to get through. If you run recklessly ahead like that, you're gonna die."

    He looks around the party. "Tier Zero gear? Really? You wanna be Tier Two by the second city. And level ten? Try at least twenty. You skipped Clef completely, didn't you? No comps, no measures, starter trash, no faction lines. How'd you even get all those Traits, damn." Bellari turns his head shocked at Rita's following question. "Like, the beta test? That's a . . . it's like a short, temporary run of the game, where people come test it out for errors and problems and stuff. They get feedback and then make the game better. There was a short one with ten thousand players or so. We got in. That's why we're so far ahead. We've done all this stuff before, up to Lento past this dungeon."

    Antonio shakes his head at Bercilak. "You're not gonna unfuck it tomorrow or next week or whatever. Lento isn't half as big as Clef. There's a lot of little towns I guess, but like, players are mostly supposed to build stuff. Outposts, forts, trading posts, whatever. The cities are just guidelines and quest hubs and safe zones. There's no way a million people are gonna fit in Lento either." His archer friend laughs drily with Phreak. "Compositions are techs that burn CL to do like magic stuff. Measures are techs that burn stamina to do combat stuff. Sword moves or whatever. Y'all seem good with weapons but didn't learn any?" she says.

    Eryl's answer seems to sort of calm them a bit. It makes sense. "Yeah. Guilds are a big deal. Nobody really got much into them. The front runners only started in Lento. Lot of money. You need to know how to make it. And then primo halls go fast. The cities are all a lot bigger than they were in the beta. Like five times as big, easy. Makes stores and quests a pain to walk to. Maybe you should aim lower for right now."

    "You can't baby a million people without getting anything back." "You can't hack and slash through it like this. We tried. I know you're in a rush but like, no crafts? Really? You're not trading? Not using those mats? Not exploring?" "Yeah you're supposed to make stuff. You know. Create. Engage with people. The game barely drops usable loot right up. Not like a good looter shooter where you just pick up the stuff on the floor and keep rolling." "Look after yourselves too, jeez. Sleep good. Eat the highest tier meals you can. Upgrade your gear. Scout the area. Tailor your resistances and weapons and tactics. Brew up pots and consumables. Stockpile ammo. Temper and upgrade your shit. Look around. Invest points in the Traits you like and go to a Tuner to have 'em stored if you don't need 'em." "Yeah, all of us spend like ninety percent of the time not in combat. There's a reason it takes hours to natty regen."
Lilian Rook     The 'Italians' (well, the Modern Civilization is named with that Italian music notation, and if they're beta testers--) groan at Sterlin, but Antonio acknowledges her anyways. "Yeah. Not like I blame most of them for hiding. But there's five times the space, not ten times. It's not going to balance out until half of them are dead y'know. We're trying to help too, same as you. But we're taking it at the pace we can. It's just some advice. You're really skilled. Fantastic players. If you play your cards right, you could get all the way to the end, I'm sure. So I'll be really upset if you die because you rushed. We have what, maybe a hundred really good players out of a million people, right? We can't go wasting them. Can't afford to."

    Friz is really going to need to get some more of that hot drink Tamamo makes at this rate. Bellario waves her down. "Oh shit, you're the one who figured it out right?" He nods at her sagely. "Well, the theme of this place is like, water and sky, right? Like, origin myths. There's some lore about how it's the farthest end of some big heavenly spring somewhere else, but the main thing is, there's submerged parts and water enemies, and high up parts and flying enemies. The flying stuff mostly uses fire and is weak to lightning, and the swimming stuff mostly uses lightning and is weak to fire. Water makes the flying stuff weaker to its weakness and blunts their attacks. Drying out the swimming enemies makes them weaker to fire and makes their lightning less effective than it is underwater. You have to manipulate it against them. You can even make the monsters fight, if you're smart. If you can fly or swim then you can kinda get some stuff that's normally hard to get because you have to change the water levels."

    "Iconic Characters were mentioned in the beta I guess? Like, GMs in really old MMOs. People with busted stats that play to the lore and shit and roleplay as event characters. The other two things are like uh . . . Consensus and Argument are these words you translate off the old war monoliths right? Like, your RPGs usually have forces of Light and Darkness fighting or whatever, but here it's different paradigms. I don't know more than that. We didn't beat it obviously. The beta was two weeks." "Don't know about Prime Conductor." "Yeah." "Yeah." "Mhm."

    Sterling's promise to help earns her a leery look from Lilian (it's crazy intimidating with those eyes), but it softens into a reluctant, guarded smile (also intimidating with those teeth). "Oh, you applied to the program? Well, if you get through this, I'll be certain to put in a good word for you; you're representing yourself well so far." She flicks up her own stat screen. Dimly, Stirling can spy her ANOMALOUS Path. Destined to pursue an ideal that humans are not.

    "I've got Harvesting, Alchemy, and Trade. Enough tradesman skill to maintain and temper plate and blades. We have a few people with Salvage, one with Tailoring, and two with Cooking, one more with Harvest . . . mmh, no critical item crafters. We really do have to set up an assembly strategy. I believe I'll be able to handle whatever this game has for potions and reagents and the like, and some of our needs for the chefs, probably ammunition as well, and we'll make more money going through me, I think. Weapons, armour, packs, tools, keys . . ." She sighs. "We do need a smith." She glances to Sterling's face. "I can probably guess your Template and Path were a good combination. What's that bloodless crack Trait anyways? It looks useful."
Lilian Rook     The group can say nothing about chargen anomalies. They know of PvP but think it'll settle down once the 'duel system unlocks' 'when you reach Lento'. They know nothing about the game master, and they think 'anomalies' means the spooky area hazards. Their leads on gear are using the materials gathered from Derivation Bridge (honestly, they say the tip-off should have been the Opalescent Crusher dropping shell materials that resist the radiation damage), or scouting the Ancient Lake and using Yono's facilities.

    The ruins have great metals for heavy armour and bladed weapons. The rare trees make fantastic bows and medium armour. The animals make light armour and inventory expansions. Bones and claws can be used for consumable weapons and combined into various status-inflicting consumables. The plants there can make decent restoratives, stamina juicing drinks, short-lived attack buffs, low level poisons, and low level anticoagulants. Hurlants are tough to use in this stage; better gas comes from under the lake itself and iron slugs are expensive to replace with steel slugs right now, given Yono's expensive and low-tier coal (used in all forging).
Eryl Fairfax     Eryl's halo, dimmed by the damage he took, only gets dimmer as the group is bombarded by tips and advice that seemed obvious to this team of veteran gamers. "A bow is a bow, a spear is a spear. Materials may affect durability, but this concept of gear levels and required crafting is just...!"

    None of this he vocalizes out loud of course. But it's only when he's told that they might be aiming too high that he has to interject. "A guild is more than the cool name, the in-game hall, the wealth to get it official. It's a collaboration. A fellowship you can rely on. And in this game, people need something to rely on. Those like you with prior knowledge, capable friends, and honed skills currently share this space with the newbies, the solo players, and the inexperienced. They need help that is freely available."

    "But," he concedes. "It's clear that we can only get so far without engaging with these systems. Thank you for the advice. At the moment, I intend to create a guide for this area to disseminate to others to better their odds. If you have any insight to share, I'd appreciate it."
Friz Dirt: I thought those might be gear.
Savvy: No, they're *ear*.

    Friz tries to hide a short laugh from Sterling. "Sorry, uh, remembered something--" She awkwardly excuses herself. "I wasn't sure if that was gear yet, we're still learning more." She jots things down. "You've been going through PvP violence?" She makes a note of the username. "I'll need to get the names and times later, if you don't mind making a statement. Don't worry, it's not about bringing down a justice hammer, I just need to learn more about the social situation and get a handle on toning down the tension."

    She tries to adjust absent glasses again as she gets more of a goldmine. The terms get some definitions! "I'd had some theories... This is so important! Alright, thank you!" She scribbles info fast. "Structuring a plot like this... I don't like it. A story like this loves to raise stakes. Awful..." She shakes her head. "If nobody knows what Prime Conductor means, that's okay. I'll figure it out." She clicks her little pen against the notepad and puts it away.

    Then it's the game interface. "I'd love to follow up more! I'm trying to get a volunteerism department going on, because a lot of that collaboration you talked about is hard to set up just *intuitively*. Anyone want to help out?" Friend invites and suchlike go out to the beta testers, but also Sterling, who gets a bright, if reather exhausted, smile.
Ishirou Ishirou listens, opening up a notepad in his interface, and starts listing down the tips the more experienced gamers in this MMO tell them.  Ishirou absolutely hates this, because they have to dick around in a game to save lives, and now the rules of this game are hindering them.  He swears, if he ever finds the GM of this game, they will not like what he does to them.

Also double worse, he can't be a hacker in this game.  It's like playing an assassin build in this game sometimes!

This means they...should head back and farm the other dungeon a few times.  He has a list of what drops from where, but then it's a matter of figuring out who has what skills to make things.  He'll have to go through things again to figure this out, maybe...

Maybe he could try brute forcing skill increases...not with the hacking, but with getting a lot of material and repeatedly doing things.  He'll have to experiment with the systems and try to find out how to best do things.  Wait, if there was a beta...

That means there might be a forum where people traded tips.  Sure some things might be outdated, but it'd at least be a cornerstone.  "Hey, thanks again.  How much about the crafting system do you know?  Skills and how to acquire them, and the like?"
Rita Ma      Rita does a polite little bow from the neck. It's cute! "You're welcome, Ms. Smith! And thank you. I don't think I would've been able to tned to them if you hadn't been so brave protecting me." It's mostly a compliment, but it also feels a bit like a shameful admission.

     "Oh, but please just call me Rita! 'Miss Ma' feels a little..." She balls up a hand in front of her lower face as she leans against a stone wall, wearing an embarrassed smile. "Well, I haven't grown into it yet, okay?"

     Then: "Oh! You were almost a Paladin?" The eager starry-eyed expression she makes might be surprising. Why would she be so impressed? "That's really cool! Could you tell me about it?"

     The mention of Tuners makes her perk up. She puts her hand on Antonio's arm, waiting for a gap in the conversation to ask: "Did you say that there's people who can help you 'store' Traits? Where can we find those?" Her tone is weirdly near-desperate for someone who doesn't appear to have any, save for the little spark of white light 'in' her chest.

     Then, her voice a little lower: "And... can you show me where to find things for potions? You're right. It was really irresponsible of me not to have any. I didn't know they'd be so important."