Final Fantasy Hacktics

"Aw dammit.." He would exhale softly, half at the chest not opening, half at the footsteps above him moving slowly towards his position. Good news was that he was in a small space, any attackers would have to come one at a time to get to him. Bad news, that brick at floor level would quickly give away his hidden position. His situation was tight, but for once he had a jump on his opponent and was able to take an aggressive stance, focusing his power into his fists and feet. He was feeling at 100% for the first time in a week, thanks to the voluptuous nurse that tended to his wounds, ready for the enemies above. Already he had a fist cocked back, waiting for a poor soul to reach under the floorboards.

"Hello!" Quint exclaimed, able to see the faint glint of a chest, still unopened from the dim glow. Still a little wary, he'd prop up the planks up with a small brick that had dislodged from the wall, jumping down into the space below. Rubbing his hands together, Quint would slowly nod to himself, happy to catch a break. Especially since he was this close, he wouldn't take a chance, using his walking stick to prod at the chest..

Still semi-blind, the sounds of the floor's creak in this area was different than the ones from his previous steps, Quint's hearing taking over somewhat for his eyes. Instantly his disposition perked up and he dropped to a knee to examine the wood. Pulling the floor planks up..

Careful steps into a small room, to say it was empty would be barely be telling the truth, more dust here than in the room with windows.. Dark too, so Quint went on guard. If the instructions were so specific, moving beyond the designated area would be an issue, so Quint would step lightly to his left, using an arm to feel ahead of him. With the lack of light, springing a trap could spell doom, his steps slow and calculated.

"Okay.." Quint peered into the room, "Lets get to work." Whatever was here, it was sure to be coated in dust, if this floor is any indication to the rest of the house. He took slow, shallow breaths in an attempt to not deeply inhale the particles that seemingly hung in the air. Though the house seemed to be safe, if dirty, there had to be a reason one had to obey those rules. However, Quint wasn't willing to find out, following the note's instructions to the letter. Finishing his last three paces forward, Quint began leaning left around the corner.

An address, and some very specific instructions upon arrival. Didn't take much headache to figure it was directing to some home in Gariland only an hour away, but what's to say that man hadn't already been there and it was the reason he went berserk? Quint scoffed, arrogant in the moment of his own strength with flashbacks of the monstrous blows of his last enemy still fresh on his mind. If he could handle that, he could ''get what he came for'', no sweat.

Dusting off and this time rising with a bit more vigor Quint would inspect a few pieces of the man's gear, taking what looked like to be a sturdy walking stick, a thick, slightly gnarled branch of wood. It'd provide support for the last leg of the journey, and a little extra insurance against another encounter. But that felt unlikely, it being midday and the likelihood of a city's watch patrol. With a wide stretch at the mouth of the cave, sun momentarily bright ahead of clouds, Quint would set off towards Gariland, note secure in a pocket that had later dried out during the trek.

On his hike, Quint tried to not daydream about what could be the item inside building 512, but thoughts of items to use, trinkets to sell came to mind frequently. Most of all the possibility of an great power would invade his thoughts, the theory flimsily backed by his encounter last night. Another image of himself lost to that power came up, but was quickly shoved aside. Even if it meant being in a state that man was in, if it could guarantee Bahamut's head there would be no second guess.
Well,no third guess. If it meant he'd be naked while rampaging there might be a better way around..

Before long the city of Gariland's gates were clear, sun finally behind a formation of clouds. Mid afternoon and the city was a bustle with business, merchants calling, patrons browsing. With a few nice natives giving directions, first to the local priest for a patch-up, then to the address listed, Quint found himself in front of a crimson red door, it blending into the similarly colored brick wall. As if it knew Quint had the note, the door opened effortlessly behind his push.

Awwww snap we Arena (soon)!

I can't wait, and as always thanks for any and all uploads! Don't know how hard it is to set this stuff up, but can be certain it isn't just a wave of a wand, so I appreciate everything you guys do.

Byes are very very common in fighting games.

In fact, depending on how many other tournaments you place well at, you can get a bye all the way to Top 32 at EVO, widely considered to be the largest fighting game tournament in the world.

So yeah getting 16-17 people a bye in the first round is no problem, just as long as the scrubs (read: me) don't get thrown into the lion's den early.

It would have only felt like a moment after finally shutting his eyes before Quint was rudely awakened by a pair of rather loud birds, almost mocking his exhausted body. Normally Quint would find glee in his hands being bruised and sore, but the difference today was hot hot they were. Looking back, trying to keep the man still with his hands was like keeping hold of a cup of hot water, it took that extra bit of effort to keep from reacting to the heat. Even yawning would remind him quickly of the bruised ribs and a strong kidney shot from one goblin yesterday. Bringing up a hand in a gesture of etiquette that wasn't needed was when he got his first good look at the blood from his nude assailant.  Not like any essence he'd ever seen, and almost like a sugar glaze it disintegrated into tiny pieces upon his touch. Frowning quizzically, Quint would wipe the mess off his hands on a pant leg that was still damp and slowly rose to his feet, trying to fight off his still dizzied state.

Next, a check of the cave itself revealed a few items scattered about lazily, likely the swag of that guy he just beat down. "Least he wasn't completely crazy, or broke from the looks of it.." Quint probably shouldn't have been surprised to find no cash, but maybe this paper's got something worth reading. It would at least give his body a small reprieve.

Another idea:

The 48th team should be a team of champions: Four winners of the previous tournaments create their own unit to form a team. Perhaps to make it interesting (and fair? considering how well versed with Arena the winners are), that team would only have to be defeated ONCE for the other squad to win.

Dunno, just trying to think of something that doesn't require wading through Slow, Stop, Poison, Blind, Don't Act, Death Sentence and Silence..

If 47's all you got an having just another team in there would make it 48, how about some people come up with some random shit?
Unless you wanna go out and find a real 48th.

Whichever's easier, getting another guy or just plugging in a B team from someone else..

Easily audiable over the now steady rain and rumbles of thunder were two sets of pants. One from Quint, who was slumped over, rapidly blinking over widened to regain his composure, and the unknown assailant who thankfully fell down, gasping like a fish in air.

First, assessment. Head ringing like church bells, nether regions still paralyzing at a slight touch, chest pressed in a vice. Breathing was erratic, but possible, and slowly the world came back into vision, what little there was left with the setting sun obscured by spotted clouds on the horizon. His fights were over, but it had wasted much time between himself, Gariland, and a series of heavy storms that were infamous in the region.

Carefully rising to his feet, Quint took one last look at his enemy, lazily spitting a bloody chunk of saliva towards him. It would be at least until the morning that he would even look back on this fatal brawl, right now he had to make sure of his own survival. With winds and rain biting at his rapidly cooling skin, Quint scanned the area for anything temporary and found a small campfire under a cave not too far from the two's battleground; perhaps where the maniac was lying in wait? A slow tromp through muddy and high grass lead to a small cave that kept the winds at bay, and a warm fire to evaporate the water drenching Quint's clothes and skin. Taking no heed to basic camping etiquette, he passed out a few feet away the campfire, body exhausted, mind to weary to worry.

Half second would pass before the first punch from the imaginary clothed man connected with Quint's cheek, but in that frame there was an exhausted, bewildered face greeting the five fingers at his face.
Who is this guy?!

Good news, he had something else overriding the pain in his groin. A series of powerful yet clumsy blows rained down, forcing his attention on defense. With it tough to mount an offense, Quint rolled onto his back, enemy on top. Certainly wasn't the most...comfortable position, it dampened the strikes a touch, which would barely save him from being knocked out cold. When it rains, it pours.

Bad news, there wasn't anything that didn't hurt, save..

A bullish grunt came from Quint, both nostrils flaring as they gathered air. In a flash he brought his hands onto the fiend's skull, pulling both fighters heads together in a clash! Quint had lost all his chivalry a few minutes ago when the squirrel bashed his nuts, so this blow would not only be led by the temple, but with such crushing strength it would briefly matched that of a Minotaurus, utterly devastating.

A struggle would ensue, natural. The two would spin a few times before the blows to his leg became a perhaps unintentional blow to the berries , causing Quint to force a break, he sprawling to even get back to his knees. Stuck between a level of shock and utter rage, he grabbed himself with the left hand and tried to stand, quickly finding that his knees were taking the rest of the day off, causing him to slump back down onto his shins. It's never easy.. His teeth would start to grind, even the molars looking for a way out of this mess. Quint found himself up against an unknown person with unknown motives in a foreign land, and no support. Lacking healing or shelter or even legs to stand on, he found himself a little scared, fearful of the unknown. With his opponent quickly returning for the attack, a familiar sound filled Quint's mind.

Don't be afraid.. A voice whispered to him in the coming dark. His head was dizzy, vision doubled, the man ahead of him ready for the attack. Quint's fist shook then, memories of the past coupled with the urgency of the moment forcing his hand. Pulling his right arm back, Quint focused his pain and frustration into his fist, shooting it forward with a mighty power! His attack was sudden, so it wasn't completely accurate, but the strength of it was much stronger than what he could accomplish without this sudden stress.

Dark clouds rolled over the plains, a cold wind blowing. Quint would need to arrive at the city or find shelter before the coming storm if he were to stay warm. He had just taken solace in the calm that was the aftermath of a good romp when he spotted what he hoped was a person in front of him. He was not green to those...touched in the head, but this one was different. Usually those who were crazed stuck to the cities where they could at least beg for food, but this one stood a couple miles away from anything, mumbling. Quint frowned. With the city only about an hour away, and his head still dully aching, he could not afford another rough scrap. When the man turned his back, he reflexively took a stance, his bag dropping with a audible thud. His time on the poorer streets of Leslia taught him quickly to never take your eye off of anyone, especially those who are in a birthday suit.

Quint wouldn't even get a word out from behind clenched teeth before the man attacked, charging with a fury that generally only came from beasts. Taken aback by both his fatigue and the enemy's speed, Quint would barely get an arm up to block the initial swipe of his enemy's limb, countering by performing a hip toss, using the man's forward momentum to turn him over on his back. He still didn't want a huge altercation, with both the cold and rain descending upon both, a small mist engulfing the air. Quint wanted this over, fast. He tried to keep his weight on the opponent with a knee, but sweat and nature's water might play a factor..

I'm kinda messed up but just let me say this
The stone gun has been the same since vanilla, and if it hasn't been changed by now, don't expect it to be. Initial: Petrify forces your squad to waste at least one turn trying to restore the unit, which sorta puts you at a disadvantage. Always: Slow would REALLY suck, like "damn why even use this" suck.

Restore MP does stuff like that too, even on spells that help the unit they can still react. Dunno how that works..

Amazing videos as always, thanks for the uploads.

Three days remain..