Learning the Ropes

One second, HandyMan was stepping into a portal in NetSquare, at the heart of the virtual urban jungle. The next second, or indeed however long data transit actually took, he was stepping out of a portal in a lush patch of ACDC Net. "Verily, this garden is light of dang'rous forecomings, but yea, in the fairest of woods doth hemlock grow," he rumbled, observing the terrain from horizon to horizon with a critical eye.

"Ye'd better be havin' a go, thinkin' ACDC's dangerous, ye daft git," Eoghan noted with good cheer. "Now sitcher arse tight and wait for our new mates to show up."

"By your leave," HandyMan allowed, and returned to observing the terrain as he waited; the vastness of the landscape was enough for him to get lost staring off into.

[Waiting for Lurch]
ClampMan quickly materialized on the portal, followed by a floating window framing Jack and Danny's faces. The Navi's eyes quickly scanned left and right, and was relieved to see it was pleasantly open and relatively deserted. He moved off the platform in a series of diagonal zigzagging movements before stopping next to HandyMan. "What now, Cap'n?"

Jack looked down at the Navi, then to Danny. He really didn't have a clue what to do next, if wandering aimlessly wasn't the correct action to take at this point. Danny surprisingly wasn't starting to appear annoyed by having to spoon feed these two. ["You go looking for viruses! They're pretty easy to find."] "And when we find em?" ["We put in battlechips, and you use em to beat the viruses. Just wait, you'll see."]

Since both Navis were present, Jack decided it was a good time to get moving. ["Hey Owen, if you want HandyMan to take the lead, feel free."] ClampMan continued to look around, then his eye caught HandyMan's tool belt, and the myriad of implements hanging from its loops/buckles. He couldn't explain it, but he felt his smaller left claw reach out and pinch one of the wrenches hanging from the belt. It seemed almost soothing, like a cat batting at a bit of string...
"Well, alrighty then!" Eoghan clapped his hands together at Jack's suggestion. "HandyMan, you heard the bloke! Let's kick off!" He popped the top off a bottle seemingly pulled from nowhere, saluted everyone present with it, and took a long pull of the lager for good measure.

"By thine leave, sire," HandyMan gave a knight's salute back to his Operator, and turned to his crustacean companion. "ClampMan, let us quit this juncture, in search of elements unruly," he suggested, punctuating with a dramatic sweep of his arm across the landscape. One quick translation courtesy of Eoghan ('Silly git says let's go find some chumps t'thump'), the large man took a step...and was halted by a curious resistance yanking him back by the belt. "What-ho?" he grunted, bewildered.

A quick glance behind him revealed the source: ClampMan had reached with his smaller crescent-wrench claw, and grabbed one of his wrenches. Rather than kick up any sort of fuss about it, HandyMan smiled benevolently behind his mustache. "Verily, I too possess claws like thine own; many, as it happens. Wouldst thou let me entrust one upon thee as token?" he mused. Carefully, he reached and somehow managed to pinpoint the wrench ClampMan was attached to; one unclasped buckle later, the wrench was freed, and HandyMan was holding the other end of it, offering it out with a massive arm towards the smaller Navi.

"Aww, big boy likes ye! He's askin' if ye want the wrench...though I can't see why ye'd need the wee thing, with that chomper there!" Eoghan laughed, gesturing to ClampMan's massive duct-fed claw.

HandyMan nodded with a booming chuckle, angling his head in kind towards the intimidating pincher. "Milord speaks true; I've ne'er a hope of matching thine armament!" Free of the other Navi's grip, HandyMan resumed his walk off to parts unknown. "And now, to adventure and combat most glorious, we ride!" he soliloquized, thrusting his barrel-chest out and giving his mustache a resolute smoothing.

"Oooohohoy, this ought'a be good!" Eoghan chuckled, taking another pull of drink and waiting for the fireworks to start.

<(Ready for Battle #1, if Lurch is)>
ClampMan was nearly lifted off the ground as HandyMan tried to walk off, thanks to his surprisingly sturdy grip on the wrench. Upon realizing he was clamped on, he looked up at the Navi and waved his right claw defensively, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Waddaya lookin' at, pal?" ClampMan managed to sputter, not doing much to explain his actions. Thankfully his new ally was more or less jovial about the situation, and even offered to give the wrench to the crustacean Navi. ClampMan was struck with a brief moment of clarity, and realized carrying a wrench around like a totem would be kind of redundant, as his own claws were wrench-like themselves. He released his hold on the wrench, and looked the other way. "Ah, no thanks... Got two of me own..." he said awkwardly as his claws slowly clicked, punctuating his confession.

Jack could feel the uncomfortableness even from his seat on the couch, all he could do was pinch the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb as he muttered, ["Jeez..."] The giant and his NetOp maintained their jolly spirit and announced the commencement of their new adventure. ["Aye, let's be off! Don't fall behind, ClampMan!"] ClampMan looked up at his NetOp's pop-up window as his right claw snapped shut energetically. "Aye aye, Cap'n," he responded, not without blowing a couple bubbles of frustration out of his mouth. He started to scuttle sidewise away from the platform, trying to keep pace with his ally. He kept his right claw tucked close to the front of his body, like a knight keeping his shield up at the ready.

((Ready for battle #1))
As the knight-turned-gardener and the crab-turned-knight wandered off in search of ne'er-do-wells, one might be forgiven for thinking them an odd-looking pair. This was the net, though, and strangeness came in all flavours.

As it was, the pair wandered for a little while, and had some chance to chat before finally happening upon something that might mean trouble. They were in an area of moderately well kept grass fields, though there was a stand of trees on their left, and the grass grew much rougher to either side of the verge. In the distance there looked to be a smaller oval of grass that was much, much shorter cut, with a small flagpole standing in the middle of it.

Much closer to home, however, there was a broad stretch of water covering the fairway, that seemed to be spreading rapidly from a gushing sprinkler system outlet, which was shooting a column of water straight in the air. The cause of this problem wasn't hard to discern. A single metool was standing by the geyser, gleefully banging its pickaxe up and down on the already broken sprinkler, wearing an adorably happy expression and seeming quite pleased with its 'progress'.

The water spread across the terrain in front of them was only shin deep at best, and no good for submerging in, but apparently it was enough to cause the terrain to begin registering as water rather than grass, now. To the sides, a trio of Beetanks trundled aimlessly through the water, making small wake trails as they went, and perplexingly, a pair of CannonDumbs seemed, somehow, to have arisen right in the middle of the field.

To the left, a single shrubby peeked out from behind the trees, then scuttled swiftly through the water to hide behind the left CannonDumb instead. It made a distressed sound, and in response the two fixed turrets raised their muzzles, beginning to train sights on the two navis.

-=Not here to Golf=-

Metool: 40Hp [Water][Mid-Field, Extreme Right, by Water Geyser]
BeetankA: 80Hp [Water][Forward, Right]
BeetankB: 80Hp [Water][Back, Right]
BeetankC: 80Hp [Water][Back, Left]
CannonDumbA: 50Hp [Water][Mid-field, Left]
CannonDumbB: 50Hp [Water][Mid-field, Right]
Shrubby: 50Hp [Water][Cover behind CannonDumbA]

-=Can They Fix It!?=-

HandyMan: 100Hp [Grass]
ClampMan: 100Hp [Grass]


70% Water [Majority of the area, ahead of ClampMan and HandyMan]
40% Grass [Near field, where the navis begin]

Notes: The water terrain is only shin deep, and cannot be properly submerged in. There is a large water geyser on the right edge of the field, which is causing the water spread.

-=Crab-Battle 1, Start!=-
ClampMan continued moving along sideways, occasionally rotating 180 degrees to look the other direction and take in the sights. He was mostly accustomed to the familiar surroundings of the Widget's internal maintenance network, so the trees and other terrain features were almost entirely foreign to him. It didn't take the pair long to stumble upon what appeared to be a golf course, with several viruses causing mischief in the middle of the fairway. ClampMan's eyes darted amongst the viruses, then stopped on the Metool smacking the sprinkler, likely the cause of the flooding in the area. "Jeez, he's makin' a mess of things." Jack pointed at the screen, asking Danny ["So... what're those? Them virus things?"] He nodded, then grabbed the small stack of battlechips on the table. ["Yep! Now we gotta battle 'em!"]

ClampMan paused, and looked up towards the window that followed. "Battle? So I just snap 'em with my claws or somethin?" Danny took one of the battlechips and put it close to the screen for ClampMan to see. The logo indicated the chip contained the "Shotgun" battlechip program. ["You take one of these battlechips, then slot it in through the PET like this!"] He looked over at his uncle to make sure he was paying attention, then slotted the chip in through the port on the bottom of the PET. After about a second, the chip popped back out and a "[-Shotgun chip uploaded-]" message scrolled along the top border of the PET's screen.

ClampMan reflexively accepted the chip upload, and looked down curiously as his left claw rapidly transformed into a cylindrical barrel-like buster. It looked almost comically simple, save for some slight fluting near the end of the barrel. Though he'd never seen it before, he somehow knew what it does; it fires a spread of energy shot, capable of causing damage beyond the initial target. He started to turn in place as he extended the weapon straight out to his side. Like a legged turret, he panned towards the viruses, looking for a target. ["Wait, do you know how to use that thing?"] Jack interjected. ["Yeah, the busting upgrade make's em know how to use the chips. Now, ClampMan, aim it at the CannonDumb with the little Shrubby thing hiding behind it."] ClampMan was about to protest about not knowing which virus was which, but as he surveyed the field, the viruses' respective names popped up over their heads whenever he focused on them. Convenient. "Aye aye..." he instead responded, and panned his body, as well as the shotgun, towards the pair and lined them up.

Once he got a solid line of fire on the turret, he executed the chip's program, which caused the buster to go off with a loud boom and a slight flash of light from the end of the barrel. While ClampMan's arm flexed with the recoil, his body barely budged, an advantage of having 8 legs to the ground at once. As the chip's data described, the weapon fired an expanding spread of energy pellets towards the CannonDumb and the cowering Shrubby. ["Alright! Good job, ClampMan! Now, spread out cus they'll probably start shooting back!"] Danny ordered, then thumbed through the remaining chips. ClampMan raised an "eyebrow" at the mention of the viruses shooting back, then looked at the viruses as he put 2 and 2 together. "Well cripes, I better git movin'!" The shotgun disappeared, leaving his small wrench-like claw in its place. ClampMan squared up on the viruses ahead, and kept his shield-like right claw close in front of his body. He peered just over the top of his claw at the viruses, and started to shuffle left and right as he looked for any incoming attacks. If he caught sight of a counterattack early enough, he'd try to "sprint" to the side in an attempt to avoid.

Danny slotted in a second chip, this one called the AquaNeedle1. ClampMan received the notification and caused it to activate. This didn't cause any of his claws to change, but it did bring up a trio of arcs in his vision; trajectories for the three projectiles he would launch. "Okay, now to deal with them troublemakers!" He started to shift and turn his body, which caused the arcs to move. He focused one to impact directly over the Metool's position, with the other two aimed at one Beetank each. His body started to rumble and hiss, the water in his reservoir-like carapace became even more pressurized. He refocused his aim on the Metool, then tilted his body back before spewed out a quick burst of water from his mouth. The stream of water made a high arc in the air, and seemed to coagulate into a more defined, needle-like shape. As the first salvo fell, he fired off two more quick bursts, which were just slightly smaller than the first. He tried to aim them to fall squarely on top of one Beetank each, but if they were moving it would prove slightly difficult.

ACTIONS -[Passive 15 Strengthen]-
1. Shotgun: CannonDumbA, Shrubby (50dmg + Spread1) (A)
2. Dodge
3. AquaNeedle1: Metool, BeetankA,B (20dmg Aqua x 3 Needles + Variable Targeting + Drop Attack) (B) [+5dmg bonus all hits] [+15 Strengthen to attack against Metool]
Time passed as HandyMan forged his path ahead, and Eoghan enjoyed the show and his beer alike. The walk was relaxing for the both of them, bringing back memories of days when it was HandyMan's job to maintain the idyllic landscapes of ACDC Net. Granted, the tradesman's time as a Maintenance Navi had been a tad more stressful, reliant on a security cadre to keep the viruses back while they worked; HandyMan found the very knowledge of being (theoretically) able to defend himself agreed with him.

Alas, the peace could not last forever, given the purpose of the virtual outing. "Stay wide, HandyMan, I'm pickin' up some activity down the fairway!" Eoghan cautioned, popping his little green chip folder open in anticipation.

One crested hill later, HandyMan and ClampMan arrived on the scene: a golf course, marred by a giant puddle and a bevvy of viruses. "Alack!" HandyMan cried out at the sight of the Metool's antics. "Vile brute! This is an insult - nay, a smirch on mine honour! How now, milord, thou must present me arms!" His mustache bristled like an angry cat; to the knight of order, such a mess of things would not be tolerated.

"Way ahead o' ye, cutter! I've got no bloody clue how this one works, but we'll go with it!" Eoghan admitted without a gram of shame. With all the glee of a child (or a happy drunk), Eoghan picked the most interesting-looking chip in the folder and slotted it in; the RollingLog downloaded into HandyMan's combat routines, and thus the game was on. "Looks like ClampMan's already gotten into the swing of things there! Good show!" he mused, chuckling at the crab-Navi's scuttling antics.

HandyMan studied the chip data he'd been granted, his systems doing the virtual equivalent of poking and nudging the code. Seemingly satisfied, the big man smoothed his mustache and nodded to himself. "Good as the best." And with a 'harrumph', he raised one of his comparatively-skinny legs and stomped the ground once. Right on cue, a thick tree trunk erupted from the ground with a full whump, right before him. HandyMan gave a grunt of approval, and reached to his tool-belt for a pair of safety glasses; one did not charge into battle unprepared, after all.

"That's a mighty fine trunk ye've got there, HandyMan," Eoghan heckled, "but what're you plannin' on doin' with it?"

"Peace, milord, soft, lo where it comes again!" HandyMan responded, in the process of slinging his HandyPack off his shoulders. The metal backpack hit the grass with a muffled clang, and one of the myriad side-doors was popped open with a deftness unexpected of HandyMan's massive mitts. In cartoonish defiance of physics, out popped a full-blown, gas-powered chainsaw, which the tradesman hefted with ease. His oversized fingers curled around the pullstring's handle, and one quick jerk later, the industrial tool jumped to life with a mechanical roar. Angling the blade just so, he cut a ruler-straight line through the log, letting the top half fall before his feet. One booted foot was hooked under the log, and with a cry of, "Have at thee!" HandyMan sent the log rolling down the length of the battlefield, aimed for the Beetank nearest him and ClampMan.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!" HandyMan quoted from memory, and with another roar of his chainsaw, the remaining half of the trunk was felled; what stump was left behind vanished in a haze of junk data. Once again he wedged his boot in the cleft between log and earth, and scoped the length of the battleground, searching out a target. His eyes were drawn almost immediately to the troublesome Metool, but a look to his right revealed ClampMan already moving to take care of the pest with a shower of aqueous spikes. At once disappointed and thankful in equal measure, HandyMan decided on the CannonDumb his ally had left alone: with a force of strength that his skinny legs shouldn't have been capable of, his foot kicked out, and the second RollingLog lived up to its name, steamrollering on a beeline to midfield.

"Nice goin', laddie! Now best to take cover; like Danny said, these guys'll wanna belt ye one for that!" Eoghan cautioned, only to have another busting tip float out of the pleasant fog of his boozed-up mind. "Oh, best to stay on that grass, there!" the man added with a snap of his fingers. "I remember readin' that grass agrees with ye...can't recall how, though."

"Thy will be done," HandyMan agreed, keeping his boots planted on the fairway and keeping away from the messy puddle. It was true enough: despite his feet being sheathed in thick work boots, the feel of grass underfoot was strangely soothing, either due to innate elemental affinity or memories of his job as an actual handyman (he didn't quite know which). Regardless, he took his Operator's advice with a stoic nod and immediately started strafing in a manner rather like ClampMan's horizontal scuttling, his hands held in front of him, and keeping a careful eye on the bevvy of viruses that hadn't been attacked yet.

=Turn Summary=
1. RollingLog1: BeetankA [55 [color=green]Wood[/color] {C}, Wide Attack (2), Ground Attack, Double Attack]
2. RollingLog1 (Double Attack): CannonDumbB [55 [color=green]Wood[/color] {C}, Wide Attack (2), Ground Attack]
3. Dodge
The two newcomers took immediate offence at the gleeful, if wantonly destructive behaviour of the viruses ahead of them, and were the first off the mark for trading blows, though only by a hair. ClampMan Aimed and loosed his shotgun, which neatly shredded the stationary Cannondumb. Unfortunately, the Shrubby was already making an attack of its own just a moment late,r so by the time the spreading blast reached its hiding spot, the little bush had teleported out to launch a log right back at him, avoiding the damage.

The log itself kicked up a spray of water as it ploughed through, but quickly lost momentum, coming to a bobbing halt near the edge of the shin-deep puddle. HandyMan was eager to get in on the RollingLog warfare, sending one of his own back across the plane of water towards the s-curving Beetnaks at the back. Though his attack had more power and momentum than the shrubby's log, it ultimately failed to connect as well, leaving a second log bobbing merrily in the water.

The Beetank he'd been aiming at clearly noticed, and lobbed a bomb in his general direction, but it went wide, creating a large splash and little more. HandyMan's second log proved much more effective, sending all jet-streams of water spraying high as it collided directly with the second turret, even as the cannon tried to make an aim lock on him.

The second tank took a crack shot at the duo, but its bomb fell short. This one, however, sent a myriad of spreading cracks through the area it struck, causing the water to swiftly drain out. The pool continued to flow from the ruptured sprinkler system, maintaining a large body of water between the geyser and the newly formed cracks, but much of the area surrounding the impact site, and further past it, drained away to leave a messy mire of mud.

Menawhile, ClampMan continued his own assault, with a volley of watery needles. The metool that had been prospecting for water on the sprinkler system swiftly received far more of a deluge than it could handle, obliterated in a falling cascade from above that gave it just enough time to register absolute astonishment, before it disintegrated. The other two needle,s though, had less luck, striking down close, but not quite on target to their respective foes. The final BeeTank took a shot at HandyMan, but like its allies, it's aim proved poor. Fortunately this one was a normal bomb, and didn't deal any further damage to the terrain.

-=Not here to Golf=-

BeetankA: 80Hp [Water][Forward, Right]
BeetankB: 80Hp [Water][Back, Middle]
BeetankC: 80Hp [Water][Back, Middle]
CannonDumbA: DELETED
CannonDumbB: DELETED
Shrubby: 50Hp [Water][No cover! Looking for hiding spot!]

-=Can They Fix It!?=-

HandyMan: 100Hp [Grass]
ClampMan: 100Hp [Grass]


50% Water [Large part of the area, beween the geyser and the cracked terrain]
10% Cracked [Small patch in the mid-section]
10% Mud [Drained area to the left of the cracked]
30% Grass [Near field, where the navis begin]

Notes: The water terrain is only shin deep, and cannot be properly submerged in. There is a large water geyser on the right edge of the field, which is causing the water spread.
ClampMan's shotgun blast felled the stationary turret without issue, but the Shrubby had already begun to relocate before its cover was thoroughly perforated. Undeterred, ClampMan's second assault smashed the Metool, but his other two needles fell short. Jack shook his head as he watched the shots fail to hit their marks, then voiced his frustration to his Navi. ["Jeez ClampMan, yer barely hittin' anything out there!"] ClampMan was busy scurrying diagonally right of the cracked terrain, in an attempt to close the distance between him and the remaining viruses. "I'd be easier if they weren't movin' so much!" the Navi exclaimed, suggesting he was just as frustrated as his skipper. "Now gimme more chips! Gettin' blown up ain't something I wanna do today!"

Jack looked down at the table, but saw his nephew had already picked up their two remaining chips. ["Only two left, gotta make em count,"] the kid warned as he passed them to Jack. He looked at them, his brow furrowed. There were still a lot of baddies out there, and not much left to use against them. One of the labels looked like a gun, while the other looked like a set of claws. He decided to slot in the former first, saving what appeared to be a close-quarters weapon as a last-resort. ClampMan received the chip data, which prompted his left claw to be veiled in a swirling mass of data before it quickly transformed into a large gun, almost identical to the turrets the recently destroyed. He had been indirectly advancing upon one of the wading Beetanks, so he felt it was an appropriate target. His right claw was still mostly in front of his body, but there was a significant hexagon-shaped gap between his upper and lower pincers. He peered over the top of his claw while he stuck the barrel of the cannon through the aforementioned gap, then took aim at the virus.

Thankfully the virus's movements were fairly methodical and slow, and the decreased range didn't require as much deflection to lead the target. Once he got a good bead on the Beetank, he fired the cannon towards his target with a loud boom and a flash of light. A significant conical spray of water burst from the barrel along with the projectile, which revealed the crab navi used some of his own built up water pressure to add a little extra 'oomph' to the shot. With the shot away, the cannon fragmented as quickly as it appeared, and left ClampMan with no additional weapons to use. He paused, half expecting another chip to become available for use, but nothing happened. He quickly abandoned the idea and expected the Beetank to return fire with a shot of its own, so he lowered his body closer to the ground before he "dashed" quickly to the right. "I need a little more than a peashooter here!" he cried out, bubbles of frustration floated away from his body as he appeared to begin foaming at the mouth.

ACTIONS: -[Passive 15 Strengthen]-
1. Movement: Advance forward/right
2. Cannon: BeetankA (60dmg + Knockback)(A) [+15 Strengthen]
3. Dodge
"Fine bit o' work there, HandyMan!" Granted, Eoghan's Navi had only hit one of his two targets, but compared to ClampMan's rather shoddy shooting, one for two wasn't a bad average. Speaking of... "Oi, Jackaboy! Methinks yer Navi could use some glasses, there!" he heckled in good cheer, saluting the window with his bottle.

Over in the virtual side of things, HandyMan breathed a low, contented sigh. "Lo, how the foe abhorrent is felled. ClampMan, I allow thine efforts preciously," he rumbled, thankful beyond measure that, while not by his own hand, the Metool causing such chaos had been destroyed. Squaring his shoulders, he made to walk into the new wading-pool, course set for the errant geyser.

"Stop the lights! HandyMan, ye daft bugger, where ye goin'?" Eoghan called, stopping the knight(?) in his tracks. The knight's moustache bristled at the shout like a scared cat as he abandoned his step, looking up at the PET window. "The little tanky gits are over that way!" he pointed with a finger at the viruses in question, still inhabiting the expanding puddle.

HandyMan took a moment to smooth down his egregious facial hair, clearing his throat with a bassy 'harrumph'. "A thousand pardons, milord. I merely wished, in lurch o' the cur, to tend to yonder fresh; it called longly to me from afar," he gestured with his overlarge hand towards the geyser; the longing to go and fix it was plain as day on his face.

Eoghan just shook his head and chuckled. "Ye started yer tussle there, cutter, ye can't just be leavin' things unfinished! Now pull yer bloody socks up and go back up ClampMan!" He shook his bottle at the holographic screen, only to squawk in alarm when an unexpected splash of beer revealed that the bottle was not yet empty. Torn between alarm at what he might've spilled on, and delight at discovering he had yet more beer, Eoghan simply decided to take a swig and lean back against the couch cushions.

"By thy will, my liege!" The most multi-talented knight ever to wander the Net turned his attentions back to the battle at hand. ClampMan's peculiar sideways running seemed ideal for strafing around the viruses, and he was doing exactly that. The crab's smaller pincer morphed into a cannon, and the muzzle flash as it traced a shining line from Navi to virus was bright enough to make HandyMan shield his eyes. "Triumph!" he exclaimed in his surprise, "Thine basilisk's venom is surely more potent than mine own. But our foe shaln't be death-practiced by thine vigor alone - go to!"

Eoghan watched bemusedly as HandyMan pulled a modern pneumatic nailgun from his inscrutable HandyBelt and held it aloft; he certainly hadn't noticed the tool materialize, but hadn't seen it jangling from that particular set of hooks and loops either. Questionable origin aside, his Navi did a fine job pointing it akin to a pistol at the same Beetank ClampMan had fired on. With a familiar 'Have at thee!' the makeshift weapon was discharged; a distinct ker-chunk sounded off as the dartlike nail was fired off, nearly invisible in the flash of the Cannon. It was not a powerful shot, Eoghan knew from experience with the selfsame tool: fired from a distance in the real world, a nail wasn't likely to pierce cardboard, let alone something like a Beetank's metal carapace. But this was the Net World, where the laws of conventional physics were granted a certain amount of leeway...or ignored entirely. And so the shot flew regardless, and if the numbers were right, would be enough to serve as the killing double-tap on the virus.

With the easy grace of a western gunslinger, HandyMan flipped the nailgun back onto its belt-hook, and it sank out of sight under the strangely hypnotic swaying and jingling of hand-tools. A quick glance told him that ClampMan had completed his strafe, and was splashing about in the shin-deep pool. He took a moment to steel himself, thanking his lord for providing him with such excellent footwear, and charged into a steady gallop forward. "Nay, sirrahs, here!" he bellowed as he leaned left, carving a steady arc to the left of the viruses in parallel to ClampMan's new position. "Pox on thine houses, vile curs, I bite my thumb at thee!" he continued his stream of antiquated slurs, his bass voice carrying like a drum and drawing attention to himself in most egregious fashion.

As he skidded to a stop, he reached to his sides and deftly undid a couple of hidden clips on his suspenders, detaching the HandyPack from its sister belt. With an ease strange to see from such an unwieldy-looking Navi, he swung the giant metal backpack off one shoulder, planting it on the ground with a messy splash. A side door was opened without hesitation, and in a classic moment of hammerspace comedy, HandyMan's massive arm completely disappeared into the tiny side-pocket as he rummaged about inside the pack, looking for whatever gadget he was looking to pull out next.

=Turn Summary=
1. Buster Shot: BeetankA [10 Null {A}]
2. Movement: advance forward/left, mirror ClampMan
3. Buster Charge
Despite only having a partially successful opening round, the two temporary golf course protectors set about stepping up their game. The nearest BeeTank began to move towards the left as CalmpMan strafed it, but even as it lined up to take a shot, ClampMan beat it to the punch with a souped up cannon round. The tank shuddered, skidding sideways on its treads and tipping to the side, though it looked to still be clinging to existence, barely. Or it was until, moments later, Handy nailed it, quite fittingly with a nail, from range. It wasn't much, but it was still the last straw for the damage tank; the nail struck, bounced away, and then the whole virus shuddered and collapsed into broken parts.

Towards the back of the area, the second second tank continued in its figure eight while firing a round towards the crab-like navi, but ClampMan scuttled out of the way, just barely leaving the dull impact and resulting spray of water behind him. Tot he other side, HandyMan was complimenting the crab's pincer, making a move in the other direction. As one accustomed to all manner of gardening mishaps, the muddy terrain he ended up on was no problem for the knightly navi, and his rather odd vocal taunting seemed to draw attention from the third tank even as it attempted to line a shot up on his partner. It changed aim at the last moment, and the result was a nearly blind shot that went more towards the centre of the area than anywhere else, missing broadly.

It did, however, land fairly close tot he already cracked terrain, and the round proved itself to be another damaging crack round. More of the water-covered course was spidered with thin cracks, allowing a further section of the flooded terrain to drain away and leave messy mud behind. a small portion of overlap fell in entirely, creating a deep pit.

This was bad news for the little Shrubby, who had been searching for proper cover, grown distressed, and was now thinking about fleeing instead. It had crossed the cracked terrain as swiftly and neatly as it could, but had to stop when the patch in front of it collapsed under the impact of the other virus' fire. Stopping, however, was also a poor idea, and within moments the panel it was standing on gave way, dropping the poor shrub into a now slightly expanded hole in the course with a highly distressed sound. If it had been inclined to make one, the Beetank could probably get away with a golf joke there, but it seemed more interested in shooting at navigators.

-=Not here to Golf=-

BeetankB: 80Hp [Water][Back, Middle]
BeetankC: 80Hp [Water][Back, Middle]
CannonDumbA: DELETED
CannonDumbB: DELETED
Shrubby: 50Hp [Broken][In a Hole][Wants To Flee][Very Upset]

-=Can They Fix It!?=-

HandyMan: 100Hp [Mud][Buster Charge 1]
ClampMan: 100Hp [Water]


30% Water [Moderate part of the area, between the geyser and the cracked terrain]
10% Cracked [Small patch in the mid-section]
10% Broken [Small point of overlap from the two crack shots, mid field]
20% Mud [Drained area to the back and left of the cracked]
30% Grass [Near field, where the navis began]

-=Obstructions I didn't forget last time, honest=-

LogA: 10Hp [Two panels wide][Floating in the water, near the Cracked Terrain]
LogB: 10Hp [Two panels wide][Floating in the water near the Grass]


"Bloody hell, where'd that come from?!"

Having finally found what he was looking for, HandyMan withdrew his arm from his pack and set his payload on the ground before him. Said payload happened to be a full-sized pressure washer, and sank a few inches into the mud upon being deposited; Eoghan was fully taken aback by the power tool's sudden appearance, considering the machine was at least half again as large as the HandyPack it'd come from. "Ye planning on explainin' where that came from, then?" he tried again, his voice cracking up an octave or two against his will.

"Nay, sire, I intend upon using yon steel beast!" HandyMan retorted, heroic and maddeningly unhelpful to a T. He snatched up the pull-cord's handle, and planted a muddy boot atop the industrial cleaner. One sharp tug later, the antiquated gasoline engine was sputtering to life with a series of dull roars. "ClampMan, company mine!" the tradesman shouted over the rattling cacophony, "By mine implements, I shall blood and lame these loathsome beasts; their knell-sounding, I entrust upon thee!" His intent was well-meant, but over the pressure washer's engine and his own loquaciousness, chances of his being understood were slim.

"Hang tight there, boyo, I'll go pass it along," Eoghan picked up on his Navi's difficulty, and worked a way around it. Jimmying the controls on his PET a bit, he managed to figure out how to control his PET window, and did his best to line it up in front of Jack's own connection. "Oi, Jackaboy!" he greeted with a wide grin, "What HandyMan's tryin' to say is he'll be roughin' up the tanky-guys fer ye, gettin' 'em nice and ready for ClampMan, an' he's askin' yer boy here to put the finishin' touches on 'em! Oh, and speakin' of, here's a chip for ye down there! Won't be as strong as ClampMan's, there, but what can ye do?" He spun his Cannon chip through his fingers like a seasoned poker player, and popped it into the PET with much fanfare.

"Well-spake, sire! And now, vile curs, look upon me!" The barest hint of a wide grin could be glimpsed from beneath HandyMan's enormous moustache; he planted his feet apart like a cowboy gunslinger, and raised the arm not holding the washer's trigger high into the air. "Turn thine eyes towards destiny, for I am a man of honours unbeknownst to thee, and I hath sworn mine vows upon such virtues! Ne'er shall I strike upon an unwary foe, be they man or beast alike!" His taunting boomed out, daring the Beetanks to turn their attentions from the Navi opposite him. "Yea, do combat with me! I shall messeth up thine visages to such end, thine own mothers would not gaze upon thee! Harrumph!"

Satisfied that he'd gotten their attention, HandyMan squeezed the trigger on the rifle-like switch, and the machine roared to life anew. He fought to keep the bucking hose steady as a torrent of high-pressure water blasted forth, aimed for the Beetank still gunning for ClampMan. Eoghan winced in well-deserved sympathy; getting caught in front of a pressure washer could mean broken bones, and he had two of his own ribs to back that up. Even in the faux-realistic Net World, that would be enough to at least knock whatever it hit for a loop, humanoid or otherwise.

The Cleansing Surge ran dry, torrent dropping to a trickle within a three-count, and HandyMan somehow shoved the high-powered cleaning tool back into his HandyPack. Next up was the Cannon, which was fed into the backpack automatically - the systems working behind the scenes processed it, a series of algorithms reading the chip data and mapping it onto a pre-rendered custom mesh of Eoghan's own making. The end result: a clatter of spare parts fell out of a small side-door in the HandyPack, including a cylindrical tank with an air valve on one end, a series of pipes and connectors...and one potato. "Ha! Forgot I wrote that one!" he positively hooted, seized by an alcohol-fueled urge to be gleeful and cheery as can be.

HandyMan, on the other hand, lit up like a kid in a candy store upon seeing the miscellaneous junk. He withdrew a pack of hex keys from his belt and set off to work, dustpan-sized hands once again proving their dexterity in maneuvering the tiny tools. Within seconds, he held in his hands a jerry-rigged monstrosity of black piping, the C02 canister protruding from one end. Hefting the lot in one arm, he popped the potato into the open end with a casual air that suggested he did this sort of thing every day (and knowing Eoghan, just might have at that). "Hark, ye who hath been unfired upon! I cast thee down!" He leveled the impromptu weapon at the as-of-yet unharmed Beetank. Its last volley had been interrupted by his earlier shout - perhaps his own answering shot would further stumble its aim. Such was his thinking as HandyMan's finger curled around the second trigger in nearly as many seconds, and squeezed. Rather anticlimactically after the roar of his pressure washer, the potato cannon's report sounded off with a comical thooonk, a burst of compressed gas sending the tuber shooting down the barrel, sent on a collision course for the space between the Beetank's eyes.

The cannon disintegrated in HandyMan's hands into a small cluster of swirling junk data, and scattered to the four winds. He planted his boots in the mud, and waited with a stalwart air for his comrade's coup de grace...provided said Navi's accuracy proved up to the task.

=Turn Summary=
1. Taunt viruses, attract attention, be a general medieval nuisance
2. Purifying Arts: Cleansing Surge: BeetankB [40 [color=blue]Aqua[/color] {A}, Stun, Charge Burner]
3. Cannon: BeetankC [60 Null {A}, Knockback]
ClampMan was down to his final chip, but HandyMan still seemed to have some tricks up his proverbial sleeves. Thanks to the NetOp's translation of his Navi's gibberish, Jack was made aware of HandyMan's plan to soften up the enemy for ClampMan. ["Alright, guess you're on clean-up duty. This be our last chip, no time for foolin' around!"] Jack relayed to ClampMan as he picked up the last chip from the table. He glanced towards Danny, who nodded in approval before looking intently back at the PET's screen.

Upon slotting and the subsequent upload of the RageClaw chip, ClampMan's large right claw began to swirl with glowing digital activity. ClampMan moved his claw as he watched with apprehensive wonder. A second or two later the glow subsided, leaving his claw morphed into something quite different. The mechanical, blocky angles were replaced with smoothly curving arcs and honed edges. In the end his claw looked like a pair of curved shears/tin snips. The Navi looked over his new claw for a moment, snapping it shut and listening to the satisfying metal-on-metal sliding sound. ["Hop to it, Mister Bubbles! Git to work!"] Jack ordered. Truth be told he was just as interested in the change as his Navi, but they were also on an active battlefield.

ClampMan was jolted back on task. The bubbles rising in his carapace tank hinted he was again agitated by the "nickname" given to him by his NetOp, but he couldn't dispute the need to get back to work. His comrade had already gotten to work by firing an abrasive jet of water towards one of the BeeTanks. He wasn't quite green enough to not know to avoid friendly fire, so though he began to make his way towards the enemy, he took a slightly round-about way. He scuttled diagonally out before quickly shifting directions to make a zig-zag pattern as his legs rather easily carried him through the swamped terrain.

While HandyMan was busy pressure washing one of the Beetanks, ClampMan's claw flipped open with a sharp clank. He took additional steps as needed to get close enough, then punched his sharpened claw towards the other Beetank to bring its sharpened edges to bear. If his aim was good enough to get the roughly spherical virus within the range of his claws, he would've slammed them shut like an animal trap. The sharp metallic slicing sound was punctuated by the angry hiss of pressurized water venting from two holes near the Navi's "wrist," hinting ClampMan had used the built up pressure to add some more psi to the shears' closing force.

The claw snapped back open just as quickly as it closed, to allow ClampMan to focus his attention on the Beetank's counterpart while leaving the hopefully wounded virus open for HandyMan. His eyes glanced back towards HandyMan's direction upon hearing the "thooonk" of the Navi's spud gun, then reached out towards the hopefully stunned Beetank. With a slightly weaker-sounding slice, his claw snapped shut in an attempt to deliver a ruthlessly fatal cut vertically across its body, even better if he managed to snip off some/all of its cannon barrel in the process.

ACTIONS -[Passive 15 Strengthen]-
1. Movement: Get within Melee Range of BeetankB,C
2. RageClaw1: BeetankC (40dmg + Slashing) (B) [+15 Strengthen]
3. RageClaw1: BeetankB (40dmg + Slashing) (B)
Nigh unintelligible chivalric taunting proved to be far more effective than anyone might have guessed; he didn't even need to taunt the BeeTank a second time. Rather, it angled itself towards the knightly gardener and took a quick shot. A moment later, the tool man let loose with his high-pressure attack, and thoroughly cleaned the offending virus. Even getting nicked by the bomb aimed in his direction wasn't enough to throw off the righteous washing (-15).

The Beetank was shunted backwards by the blast of water, tipping precariously and reeling. It washed up near ClampMan, but for the time being looked thoroughly dazed. Pincers ready, ClampMan was able to make use of this window to make a vicious snip at the other, less stunned, virus, cutting a nasty rent into one side of it, while it tried to make a bead on the ear-offending navi across the way. Just as it was about to make its shot, however, HandyMan struck first. His potato of doom crossed the intervening space to lodge itself firmly in the muzzle of the BeeTank's cannon. There was silence for a moment, then a couple of brief clicking sounds, a spark, before something backfired within the virus and the whole tank ruptured, collapsing with a plume of smoke.... and the scent of baked potatoes.

Amidst this, ClampMan was able to turn his attention back towards the damaged and dazed tank that remained, and casually slice it from the field with a neat snip. The partially ruined golf course looked mostly clear now... except... from the broken hole in the middle of the field, the sounds of the increasingly distressed Shrubby could be heard faintly. It was having no luck tyring to get out of that hole.

The net environment's natural recovery process was beginning to clean up the mud at this point, though the burst sprinkler was still spraying a geyser of water everywhere.

-=Not here to Golf=-

CannonDumbA: DELETED
CannonDumbB: DELETED
Shrubby: 50Hp [Broken][In a Hole][Wants To Flee][Very Upset]

-=Can They Fix It!?=-

HandyMan: 85Hp [Mud]
ClampMan: 100Hp [Water]


30% Water [Moderate part of the area, between the geyser and the cracked terrain]
10% Cracked [Small patch in the mid-section]
10% Broken [Small point of overlap from the two crack shots, mid field]
10% Mud [Drained area to the back and left of the cracked]
40% Grass [Near field, where the navis began, plus the outside edges which were once flooded, then mudded, and now restored]

-=Obstructions I didn't forget last time, honest=-

LogA: 10Hp [Two panels wide][Floating in the water, near the Cracked Terrain]
LogB: 10Hp [Two panels wide][Floating in the water near the Grass]

The newly weaponized claw worked perfectly, effectively allowing the pair to bring down the Beetanks with relative ease. With them dealt with, ClampMan rotated apprehensively in place, his legs occasionally sloshing about to swivel his body around. "Wasn't there one more?" He asked aloud to no one person in particular. Jack leaned back a bit, taking a bit to play back what happened prior. ["Yeah, one that looked like a bush. Think it went down that hole over there."]

ClampMan was about to criticize his NetOp for how truly vague "over there" was from his point of view, but a very brief search revealed the very terrain feature he likely spoke of. He clicked his left claw excitedly, followed by the heavy metallic *shunk* of his right shear-like claw before he began his sideways shuffle towards the hole. With no more chips to use, he had to get up close and personal. As he made his way up, both he and his NetOp were quiet, focused on the virus. This made it all the more ironic when it was Danny who was the only one who had the foresight to cry out ["Wait!"] Jack's eyes snapped to his nephew while ClampMan nearly tripped as all of his legs went full stop. "Wha? Why?"

Danny pointed down at the screen, specifically the panels surrounding the whole, which were riddled with dark cracks. ["The cracks! If you walk on 'em, you can fall in!"] Jack had a look of realization on his face, impressed the kid caught that before they were made to look the fool. ["Makes sense, good catch Danny boy. Alright, steady as she goes, ClampMan. Test yer footin' first,"] he suggested after commending his nephew. ClampMan didn't reply, but his movement became much slower and deliberate as he tried to ease himself from the water to the cracked panels. Thanks to his multitude of legs, he could reach out with one or two and see if the panels would hold.

If he felt the panels give way, hopefully his center of gravity was far enough back to keep from toppling in, or his outboard legs far enough out to maintain grip on whatever solid terrain remained. Regardless, if he managed to get within range of the shrubby, he'd snap his claw open in preparation to attack. However, he'd probably realize the Shrubby was trapped where it was, and had previously shown only a desire to run and hide. Then here he was, a crab with a tin snip for a hand crawling in for the kill. He didn't quite like the sound of that. He didn't exactly relax his posture, and his claw was still spring-loaded to snap shut, but he didn't immediately go on the attack.

If the virus didn't use the Navi's hesitation as an opportunity to attack, he'd slowly extend his claw outwards, as if he were offering a hand. "C'mon, let's git you outta here. Grab on." He'd then try to slowly and carefully hoist the small virus up and out of the hole and deposit it on some safe terrain, if possible. It was up to the virus how the next moments would proceed. If it was mostly placid, it could take up on the Navi's offer to get out of its predicament. If it decided to act aggressively and pull a sucker punch, it would get a very severe trimming from that very large, sharpened claw. With the added hydraulic pressure from his body, the claw had more than enough force to cleave the little virus in two, if push came to shove...

ACTIONS -[Passive 15 Strengthen]-
1. Movement: Transit to Cracked terrain
2. Movement: Carefully attempt to traverse the Cracked terrain to get in melee range of Shrubby, or keep from falling in if said terrain becomes Broken
3. Offer virus a lift, or RageClaw1: Shrubby (40dmg + Slashing)(B) [+15 Strengthen]
"Ye alright there, cutter?" Eoghan ventured, wincing as HandyMan weathered the explosion. "That weren't a firebomb or any such, aye?"

"Nay, sire, 'tis but a scratch. And lo, how the battle is won!" the Navi waved off the concern; true enough, while his work shirt was a bit tattered at the hem and his moustache was singed, HandyMan looked little worse for wear. He harrumphed in confusion as he watched ClampMan go scuttling off across the unstable terrain. "Doth mine compatriot wish to repair the damages wrought? A fine idea!" Smiling behind his facial hair, he followed suit and went clomping down the puddled fairway.

"Are ye daft, man?" Eoghan laughed, before falling silent and looking thoughtful. "Actually, don't answer that. ClampMan's off to go and deal with the wee hedge-baddie...ye saw 'im, the little blighter what fell in the hole! Don't tell me ye missed that, that was priceless!" Once more, he cracked himself up, chuckling at the memory of the little beastie's all-too-amusing distress.

Oblivious to his Operator's glee, HandyMan continued wading down the waterlogged golf course, vision locked onto the ruined sprinkler. The hems of his trousers quickly soaked through from the splashing about, but his feet remained warm and dry in their sturdy boots. As he walked, his hands darted about his kit, withdrawing a multitude of hand-tools and spare odds and ends. A short length of capped pipe, a swiveling socket, and what appeared to be a very large screw were danced through his dexterous fingers, alongside a tiny hand-drill and a screwdriver or two. It was hardly the first time he'd been set to such a task, and his fingers remembered the motions without him having to watch his work.

Slowly, a makeshift sprinkler was fashioned. The pipe had a series of tiny holes drilled down its length, while the screw was fit inside akin to a turbine. The swivel-cap was screwed on, such that one end was fit to the pipe, and the other side could be stuck to the irrigation network. With water forced in and pushing against the screw, the pipe would be able to spin, and the tiny holes would do the work dispersing the water, hopefully to the extent that the original mechanism had done. Such was the idea...and yet, as HandyMan found himself face to face with the gushing siren, it came to mind that sprinkler repairs were generally done with the water off.

"Ehhh...shouldn't ye be lookin' for the valve? Should be 'round there somewhere, aye?" Eoghan ventured, scratching his head.

"Nay, sire, I haven't the choice," HandyMan held his little creation in one hand, stroking his moustache in contemplation with the other. "I shall affix thee as it stands, for pride!" he boomed, steeling himself and dropping to one knee, withdrawing from his belt two final tricks of the trade: a tube of epoxy glue...and a large roll of duct tape. "For order!" A liberal dose of glue was swabbed on the outside tip of the out-of-control pipe. "For honour!" The new sprinkler was forced through the geyser onto the pipe, soaking HandyMan through from the wild spray. "For king and country!" The duct tape was affixed to the new bond, patterned lattice-style for maximum stability while the glue set, and HandyMan stood back up. He was soaked to the skin, but nary a shiver escaped him as he struck a triumphant pose. He didn't bother moving away from the sprinkler; soaked as he was, a little more water was hardly offensive.

=Turn Summary=
1. Movement: wade over to broken sprinkler
2. Fashion new sprinkler-head
3. Attempt to affix new sprinkler-head to pipe
Despite his careful progression, ClampMan would still find the cracked panels falling in behind him wherever he went, one after the other. On the bright side, he never actually fell in himself, and the broken end of the pit that the shrubby was caught in had just recovered itself. This was where the odd scuttles of the helpful navi would eventually end up, standing on the newly reformed solid ground at the edge of the pit.

Upon seeing the navi looming over it, the Shrubby huddled back, looking startled, and spat another log. The reaction seemed to be automatic, rather than actually attacking though, and the log wasn't ever really in any danger of harming anyone. It struck the edge of the hole, filling in some more of the space, and drew attention to the fact that the bottom of the small hole now had several logs in it. In time, it may even have managed to fill the pit up and escape that way, but for now, the navi above wasn't actually shredding it into oblivion and it peeked upwards. It's face still showed great distress, but that was kind of normal for a Shrubby. The main problem was that it didn't actually have any hands with which to accept the helping claw, even though it was tentatively wanting to. Instead, it climbed up on the highest log near the outreached limb and hopped in place a few times. It would probably need to be picked up directly, but if ClampMan decided to do so, the little guy was too nervous to actually misbehave at this point.

As soon as it shrub virus was on solid ground again, it took off like a shot, zipping away to the tree line as fast as it could go... which for a shrubby is pretty darn quick. It did leave behind a small quantity of zenny as it fled, however.

Elsewhere, HandyMan was busy with the true violator of net conditions: the broken sprinkler system. His nemesis gushed violently, sending its geyser of water high into the air while the tool-savy-navi prepared his own brand of special remedy. Weapon in hand, the battle was joined, with vast amounts of cross-fire being driven in all directions while the hero sought to staunch the flow. No quarter was given, or taken, no dry patch left unassailed, before the make-shift solution was finally locked into place.

With no internal seal, however, there was no way to shut the sprinkler off, so even once it was fitted, HandyMan was rewarded with a swiftly rotating spray of water direct to his... well... everything... Still, it would do until a formal repair was made. Problem solved.

the remainder of the excess water was draining away, the mud was gradually being recovered, and the last of the broken in tiles were beginning to restore themselves. All in all the damaged golf course was looking like it was on the mend, and the viruses gone.

-=Not here to Golf=-

CannonDumbA: DELETED
CannonDumbB: DELETED
Shrubby: FREEDOM!!

-=Can They Fix It!?=-

HandyMan: 85Hp [Grass]
ClampMan: 100Hp [Grass]


10% Water [Small part of the area, around the 'fixed' sprinkler]
5% Broken [One small hole still left. It'll recover soon]
10% Mud [Small area between the remaining water, and the restored grass]
75% Grass [Most of the rest]

-=Obstructions I didn't forget last time, honest=-

LogA: 10Hp [Two panels wide][Floating in the water, near the Cracked Terrain]
LogB: 10Hp [Two panels wide][Floating in the water near the Grass]

-=Battle 1, Victory!=-

HandyMan: 930z
ClampMan: 930z

Both gain 4 (2 + Bonus 2) mutual FXP

Thankfully the little virus didn't let its panic urge it to lash out against ClampMan, and instead took the opportunity to make a clean getaway without protest. ClampMan had a hard time keeping up as it zipped away, leaving a few zenny behind before disappearing off in the distance. His sharpened claw began to become swarmed with reconfiguring data, which disappeared moments afterwards to reveal his claw had reverted back to its wrench-like pincer form.

["Good job, ClampMan!"] Danny cheered, ["Now you can pick up the Zenny they dropped!"] Jack raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his nephew. ["Wait, yer talkin' about actual money?"] he asked incredulously. The kid looked up at his uncle with a confused expression on his face, as if the answer was so obvious even a child would know. ["Yep... It's real money, Uncle Jack. I thought you knew that..."] Though his intelligence was partially insulted by the tyke, he only clued in on the fact they were earning real money from this. Sounding excited, he called out to his Navi. ["Ya hear that, Mister Bubbles? We're making an actual haul here!"]

ClampMan was less enthusiastic compared to his NetOp, and was more upset with the repeated use of that disliked nickname than the revelation they were turning a profit. However, that didn't discourage the Navi from scuttling about and plucking some of the zenny from the area around him, leaving a trail of frustration bubbles as he moved about. After briefly combing over the area for loot, he held the datapackets in his small left claw, before it quickly disappeared as the data was downloaded to the PET. Jack couldn't help but grin as he saw his zenny total rise. It wasn't much, but it seemed more than enough reason to continue blasting viruses.

((Ready for Battle #2))
"Triumph!" HandyMan raised his oversized arms skyward in his exuberance. That he was sodden enough that being fully submerged would add negligible further water coverage was more-or-less irrelevant in his victory-instilled glee.

"Aye, that ye did! Just don't forget to pick up some o' that Zenny, eh cutter?" Eoghan was happy to let his Navi's festivities continue unabated, flashing a red-flushed Westman's million-watt grin and draining the last of his bottle. "And onto the next we go!" he mused to himself, getting up for a moment to grab another brew.

"Thy will be done, sire," HandyMan rumbled, mistaking his Operator's beer-gathering for a command to hunt more viruses. Wet clothes sloshing about, he traversed the remnants of the battlefield, collecting his own share of the Zenny left behind. The amassed bundle of virtual coinage was, parallel to ClampMan, palmed in his mitt-like left hand, and succinctly beamed up to his Operator; both Navi and Operator (whenever he got back from his kitchen, anyway) would call it a tidy sum for the work done. Just before setting off, HandyMan looked to his makeshift sprinkler going strong, and mused for a moment before opening a small notepad program. He composed a small note to the maintenance Navis in charge of the area, and exported it to his preferred graphic: an old-timey bit of parchment, neatly bound into a scroll by a small green ribbon bearing his emblem. From his HandyPack, a full-sized pitchfork was somehow withdrawn, and planted points-first in the ground well away from the sprinkler; the note was tucked into the handle such that it was in no danger of falling into the wet, muddy ground, and HandyMan nodded to himself in satisfaction.

"And now, onwards!" the gardenmaster boomed, and started off down the fairway in search of new adventures. Only the cobbled-together sprinkler and the note remained behind as proof that the viral scuffle had taken place...though, given HandyMan's antiquated lexicon, a dictionary might be needed to translate said note...or the nearest university's Medieval Netopian Lit class.

<(Ready for Battle #2)>
((Bonus 1FXP))

Sodden and victorious, the two new friends pressed further into the net looking for adventure, glory, and cash for a reasonable level of effort. The field was indeed a golf course, as it turned out, and once they'd passed by the swiftly recovering section the found themselves wandering cross-wise to another stretch of fairway, hemmed in with trees. unfortunately, they didn't have a lot of time to chat or bond to themselves; their ambling path ensured that they weren't alone for very long. In fact, just through the small line of trees separating one fairway from another, they happened upon a veritable viral party ground, much to the detriment of the course.

The first, most obvious sight was a pair of champy viruses taking turns punching the trees on the opposite edge of the rough to where Handy and Clamps entered. One tree was already a charred stump, and others nearby bore a variety of scorch marks. Not too far from the pair of fiery viruses, two shades laughed at their antics, tongues hanging out in amusement. sometimes one of them would float over and circle around a new tree, which would swiftly become the next target for the two punchy viruses.

Back down to the right, more towards where this hole seemed to begin, a trio of fishy were lining up by the beginner tee line. They were casting glances to one another, but slight tracks of ruffled and torn grass indicated that they'd probably made this hole their race-way once or twice already. By the tee line, a miner was resting casually in its burrow, holding a mine high above its head. It might possibly be acting as their flag holder, but it could just as easily be watching on in between turning the golf hole into minesweeper.

Lastly, all the way to the two navi's left, up on the middle of the green, a large teddy seemed to be sleeping, curled around the flag. It wasn't actually hurting anyone, really... but no-one was going to be playing golf on this hole while it was there. The two intrepid navis only had a short amount of time to contemplate the situation, however, before one of the spooky viruses looked their way and shouted something. One Champy turned to face them, looking eager, though the other continued to punch its tree for now. Clamp and Handy had a lot of clean-up to do here, it seemed.

-=The Back Nine=-

ChampyA: 60Hp [Directly opposite the navis][Grass]
ChampyB: 60Hp [Directly opposite the navis][Grass][Punching a tree]
FishyA: 90Hp [Far right end of the field][Omnishoes][Grass]
FishyB: 90Hp [Far right end of the field][Omnishoes][Grass]
FishyC: 90Hp [Far right end of the field][Omnishoes][Grass]
Miner: 100Hp [Far right end of the field][Omnishoes][Grass]
Teddy: 100Hp [Far left end of the field][Grass][Sleeping!]
SpookyA: 30Hp [Directly opposite the navis][Grass]
SpookyB: 30Hp [Directly opposite the navis][Grass]

-=In The Rough=-

HandyMan: 90Hp [Grass]
ClampMan: 100Hp [Grass]

-=Par for the Course?=-

30% Grass [The Rough][From the right end to the middle, and along the outer edges of the fairway]
40% Grass [The Fairway][Main strip, from about centre field all the way up to the green, on the left]
20% Grass [The Green][Roughly circular patch on the left end of the field]
10% Coal [Those poor trees...]

-=Objects Both Good And Bad For Birdies=

The edges of the golf hole are ringed by a band of tall green trees, and they can be used for cover if desired.

Dividing Trees: 60Hp [Wood][Break-Weak][Flammable] (Each)
Scorched TreesA-C: 30Hp [Wood][Break-Weak][Flammable][Several tress directly opposite HandyMan and ClampMan]
Burned StumpA-C: DELETED [Counts as Coal if stood on][Trees deleted by fire in any way will turn into this.][Three stumps directly opposite the navis, on the far side of the fairway]

-=Battle 2, Start!=-